Christmas Rant

I haven't had a reflective rant in a while, so I might as well let my conciousness flow and see what happens.

For starters, with my sister home, my social inatiquacies are brought more and more into the foreground. Being a dreamer and an imagineer (for lack of a better description), I don't think that I'm very much compatible with the social world. In fact, it's hard enough trying to get it into my head that I'm not selling my soul every time I look for a job when I feel like I am. The lines are clearly marked and run deep as to who is the better of the two of us. While I sit in bed with my eyes closed trying to escape a reality I hate and cannot conform or shape, my sister is becoming what she calls a local celebrity.

I don't know why I can't continue dreaming. Compromise doesn't seem to be much of an option. It's probably why I feel the way I do when the idea of looking for a job hits the forehead of my gray matter. I have yet to see any kind of proof where I dreamer can work in a capitalistic world and still do what they do best. Well, outside of Walt Disney, but even his biography borders on the fantastic more than non-fiction.

And people wonder why nutcases like me spend countless hours on the computer playing games. It isn't because we are lazy; it's because we can't deal with reality.

In the video games, I can actually enjoy the effort it takes to get from one point to another. Hell, in the online games that run on a capitalistic idea, I don't mind doing what is considered work for the money you need. It could be in the form of playing a game, but at least it is enjoyable and I don't have to deal with people that will ultimately make me want to rip their heads off. Well, most of the time. Oh, how I wish life was like a video game, but alas, I have better sense. Life is not a video game, and if it is, you only get one life and there are no save points.

I don't know, maybe I'm being selfish. But then again, how can I be selfish when this past few weeks with little to no thought I bought so many Christmas gifts almost impulsively without thinking about price. I mean, my sister's gift alone costed me $100. When you total up the other gifts I bought for the rest of the family, I spent a total of $200 on just four people. I could have been very cheap on the matter and double up on gifts for my parents or even pay for half like what I did last year. But no, I actually spent money knowing full well that I didn't have enough to begin with. Even my sister said that my gifts blow the ones she got out of the water! At least the ones I told her about. Maybe I'm looking for credit where credit isn't due. After all, I don't like how this holiday brings out the worst in people while bringing out the best in others. So who's to say that my gifts are not selfish?

Oh, what I wouldn't give to just be an artist and nothing but with the ability to create and learn how to create the things I want.

I want to say that it's been four years or more since I last talked to the boys, but I'm no longer sure. The emotions are still there event though the events are getting foggy. And even now, I'm not even sure they were ever real to begin with. For all I know, my naiveity took over and want to make them real. But if they weren't, what did I put so much emotion into? A fantasy? Some kind of sick joke? I'm not bitter so much as I am more careful these days. Just in need of closure that I know I won't get. It's probably why I'm so hesitant now to move on so many of my crushes, why I'm afraid to love. I don't want the same thing to happen again. I don't want to think that there is something there when there may not be anything at all.

Why am I bringing this up again? Of the people that I've talked about this to, the few that I trust to actually drop their real name, everyone has said that they were jerks. Even I know they were jerks towards me. Completely heartless, self-absorbed, egotistical, sheltered, perverted, sex-hungry, ignorant, incestual, foul-mouthed bunch of dicks up a son of a bitch's ass if I wanted to be nice with the insults. Yet the emotion is still there wanting to die and move on. I guess I'm attracted to pretty people that will treat me like shit. Presuming they are real, of course.

I think I just answered why it is so hard for me to act on my crushes. So why is it still a mystery to me?

Since the end of the semester, I've been wanting someone in my bed. Not for sex, but someone to cuddle with. The shallow side of me wants someone beautiful and with a very nice body. The deeper side of me wants someone that is accepting to the fact that I argue about stupid things, have insecurities out the ying-yang, and is overall just a big baby in the body of a 22-year-old college student. I have yet to have a dream about this person, but I know my comfort pillows have lost all their fluff as a result of me constantly waking up in the morning hugging them.

Okay, now I'm getting into trivial stuff.

I don't feel like spell checking. Half of the words I would need a spell check to would just come back as not being found in the dictionary anyway.