Here Goes

Well, here I am, one more lost soul hopping on the blog-wagon because I'm tired of having these conversations with myself... Wait...forget I said that... And anyway, how long should this be? Heh, what's the bet the sheer length of it scares people away and I'm left here once again by myself... Weird, I sounded almost hopeful there, didn't I?

Anywho, I figure I might as well get some of this philosophical rambling out of my head so now that the small talk is out of the way, here's something I made earlier.

I feel stupid. Not 'duh' stupid, but the sort of stupid where you have a really clichéd problem, like wanting to talk to people and not being able to find the words, and you're so annoyed with yourself for not finding a way around it that all you can do is sit around and bitch. Kind of like I'm doing now really. Is that hypocritical of me? To be honest I've lost track.

I mean, here I am, 18 years old and God knows how many chances I've either missed or just screwed up (I can think of five), or how downright ignorant it is for me to write this, but hell, I have to say something, right? Maybe it's just the mood I'm in right now, alone in the night, light buzzing behind me, or something, I dunno. Is that right? It's funny, (I'll be saying that a lot) I sit down here, and pick up a pencil, I mean a pencil, and decide to write this sense of stupidity out of my head, and I manage to lie to myself even here. As if I don't feel awkward enough as it is, thinking I'd dodged this whole angst thing years ago, when really I was probably in denial, but who cares, right? I don't. Hell, I can't even give a decent sentence about why a team should have varied skill levels. Actually, why am I bringing this up here? I'd probably have a metaphorical heart-attack if anyone I knew read this, though the small protection I gained from my writing has been rendered obsolete by the damn keyboard. Maybe I should have burned this when I had the chance.

My wrist hurts. A notebook page-and-a-half of shitty, nonsensical rambling, and my wrist hurts. How great am I? What's even stupider, at least in my mind, is that I'm afraid to keep talking...or writing lest it sound corny or self-important, though no doubt I've already failed on both counts. Maybe I should get out more, sit at the corner barstool with the guys and think about all of the conversations I'd love to have with them, everything I'd love to say, when really I can't hear a word they're saying and half the time I just get lost in the dull roar of everyone else's words. I don't think they can hear me either, seems I have trouble speaking up in a loud place, and keeping my voice down in a quiet place. Wow, I never noticed how deep that seemed.

You know, a few minutes ago I was of a mind to call a friend of mine and say all of this, waste my credit just for the comfort of someone listening, or maybe the illusion of it, but let's face it; I'd never say this over a phone. I suppose I'm a bit like Claudius in this, you know, "Bend stubborn knees!" or whatever it was he said...

I think I'll stop now... Time is short and I need a catchy closing line I can fall back on in an hour when I can deal with the rest of this...

Screw it....
Signing off.