As the title suggests, my mind is a bit full right now. Unfortunately, unlike Dumbledore, I don’t have a penseive in which to syphon off my many thoughts. Most of my thoughts are either silly analytical waltzes like my post on the sun and the moon etc or they’re anxieties that I hold. Right now it’s these anxieties that I am going to have to write out of me.
I think it should be pretty obvious by now that I write stuff out when I have too much in my head. It’s like having a huge ball of tangled wool that keeps growing so, sometimes, I have to sift through it, find the tail end and start tugging some out to keep it elsewhere. I think that’s what these headaches are alluding to.
Exactly a year ago today is the day that I had my heart broken. It would be nice if I couldn’t remember the date, but I do. It was the day after a foam party at a local club and I know for a fact that that was on the nineteenth. I guess that’s why I’ve been putting off writing in here. I don’t really have much to say about it. I’ve been keeping myself busy, ignoring the fact that I knew the date was coming, but it still makes you feel odd when it hits you.
Social media turns people into neurotic stalking messes – most especially if you’re in a relationship with someone or wanting to be with someone or just checking someone out that you met at some point in time. Everything connects to everything. Twitter, facebook, myspace, msn and bebo have all joined hands in a circle around you, whispering everything that everyone else is doing. Most of the time, you really couldn’t care but now and again you start sneaking glimpses of a particular person’s life because you’re interested in someone. Social media, in general, just makes you neurotic and paranoid. At this minute, I am, indeed, feeling neurotic and paranoid and am desperately trying not to be. The thing is that I can’t really tell anyone that I am this neurotic mess because they can’t do anything for me except pat me and tell me it’ll be fine or tell me I’m wasting my time. Tonight isn’t over yet, but I don’t think this guy is bothered at all about seeing me. He’s been on msn for ages, said nothing and disappeared. Admittedly, I didn’t open a conversation, but I knew he was there. Somewhere in my neurotic mind, a little voice piped up and said, “You don’t want to seem like you’re stalking him or trying to push him! Maybe he’s changed his mind!” This is probably likely judging by recent behaviour, but hey. I guess I’d rather know for certain than just keep these thoughts running around in my head.
So what if I didn’t want a date with him at first? He’s the first guy I’ve kissed since my ex. I think I was allowed to be a bit confused and muddled. Incidentally, I dreamt about the ex a couple of night’s ago. In the dream, I saw his dad go into The Buck (a pub in my town) and then he left to go down the street. So I followed him. I don’t even know why I was following him in the dream except that it felt as if I was supposed to be doing it and as if my ex knew I was there and was purposefully leading me somewhere. He took out his keys to open the door of this house and made a movement for me to follow, but I woke up. I don’t know what that has to do with anything that’s going on at the minute. Maybe it just means that I should stop thinking about him. It’s not as if I even stalk him or look him up on facebook or anything. I don’t. Sometimes I think about him, though. I can’t help it. I have a memory like a video recorder; everything is in perfect detail. I even know the smells, textures and tastes of things. And, trust me, good memory like that is an absolute curse some days. I mean, as much as I loved the look he gave me, I don’t want to remember it in perfect detail and I certainly don’t want to be reminded how much it made me hold my breath and wish that it could be forever.
I don’t even remember holding my breath.
But enough of that. We shan’t go back there.
Anyhow, I am indeed annoyed with this guy. I’d like to know what’s going on. That’s all. I think I deserve that much. Still, I’ll give him until the end of tomorrow (which is now today I suppose) to speak to me. Then we’ll see. I’ll try not to hold my breath and just hope that the impression I got was wrong.
(Lyrics in the title are from The Animal Were Gone by Damien Rice)