So it would seem that this little blog of mine has entered its sixth year of existence, and is still blessed with sporadic updates by its creator, although the entries are getting from mundane to random and now downright emo. No matter, the show must go on, even if they're comical tragedies now as opposed to the situational dramas of days past.
For those expecting an extended summary of how my life went on within the lapse in blog posts, I'm sorry but I have to disappoint you. However, my Facebook has my life in photo albums, and they more or less will fill in the blanks with regards to how my life flashed by. In any case, the crux of this blog begins henceforth.
I seem to have a thing for troubled females, as evidenced by the multitude of femme fatales lining "The List". Every girl who walked into my life had something messed up, had a fatal flaw within her operating circuits which drew her apart from the norm. Granted, no one is perfect, but according to my daughter I ought to get a medal for getting involved with this many troubled women.
Number One was worrisome from the very beginning, but virginal love masked my eyes and I couldn't tell the difference between bread and concrete. Yet, as the love googles began to dissipate, the troubles intensified and compounded our contemporary problems, eventually leading to heartbreak and permanent damage to my psyche. Perhaps it was from then that this "attraction" to troubled girls began.
Number Two came a year and a half after Number One disappeared from my life, and I knew that she wouldn't have the approval of the Senate nor the endorsement of the House, but the feeling of being in love - or what's close to it - negated my better judgement. Even if I knew that she was making use of me to achieve her own goals, I held on to the empty hope that she would turn back and reciprocate my feelings for her. It didn't happen, and now I regret my involvement with her in the first place.
Number Three appeared out of nowhere along with Number Four, but the former was located geographically closer to me, and so according to the Proximity Principle, the annoying things called emotions begin to stir, and eventually led me to perform things outside of my normal locus of actions, all the while beneath the radar of our mutual comrades. Number Three also holds the distinction of the one girl whom I poured my heart out to, the one for whom I wore my heart upon my sleeve. I made my point ostensibly clear, and all she needed was to take the leap of faith into my arms, a feat she never attempted at all. As time passed and she faded from proximity, the feeling dissipated as well.
Number Four is interesting cause of the fact that I was kinda making use of her to forget about Number Three, sorta as a distraction from the troubles stemming from that source. Little did I know that Number Four would come on so strongly, to the point that her intention was as clear as day, yet also obscured by a mild fog. I ventured, she withdrew, and ran far, far away into the thick mist, never to be within my reach ever again.
Number Five is the most recent one to date (OMG), and she's unique in the fact that I don't know what the hell she is thinking. Her actions and mannerisms don't match the vibes that she is constantly broadcasting, and many facets of her personality are non-congruent with mine. I made small moves just to test the water, and withdrew once I felt the spiny skin of a dozing alligator. The creature has now surfaced, and - in my eyes at least - is hungry.
Why can't I get a plain simple girl devoid of such problematic idiosyncrasies? Is it that much to ask for? The loneliness is slowly but steadily encroaching, and the fact that people around me are getting together like nobody's business just adds oil to the flame, accentuating the fact that I have no one to encourage me, no one to look forward to on the weekends and no one to just say "I'm around" when I'm feeling lonesome. It gets close to being unbearable on the days when I have to both study and work, it really gets to me.
Humans are socialists at base, but once they get companionship, they became capitalists, emphasizing private-ownership.
Oh, the humanity.
