Ok. The first rant of my brand new webpage. If, of course, I can bloody get it to attach to the original. Tch. I can't, but I think I've got a way around it. Maybe somebody can tell me how to do it properly in the future. Dammit. I finally get round to re-doing my webpage and its taken so long that I've completely lost the mood in which I was going to write. Maybe I should get round to making friends with Captain Morgan again, but maybe that's where it all went wrong. Actually, now I come to think about it, it went wrong on day 8 of University (back in 1999) when I slept with someone, not because I wanted to (although she was pretty foxy), or because I was drunk (I was though), but because I wanted to win a bet. Ouch. When it comes to writing this down I realise how shallow and terrible that is. Anyway, this began my spiral into complete sluttishness of going out, pulling (Although I don't know how. I mean, I'm not good looking. Or rich. How the hell did it keep happening?) and sleeping with somebody who I didn't like and who, quite honestly, I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire. The worst thing is I can't even explain why I was doing it. I was just...doing it. And hating myself for it of course. I really did hate doing it. I could no longer look in the mirror and see a nice guy looking back. All I saw was a disappointment to his friends, his family and himself. I hate that bastard. On the surface to the people I knew I was still the same old outgoing, loudmouthed, confident, perpetually happy intellectual chap but I knew that behind that persona was a complete and utter git. Ok, that may sound a little bit melodramatic since usually it was me who was pulled and the other person who initiated any kind of contact but I didn't say no. I just let it happen and then left. Its not that I feel bad that I was treating people like this, after all, all they were after was a one night stand ("Hey. That guy can dance pretty good. If I'm going to pull it may as well be with him.") with somebody. The thing is that I wasn't even enjoying the sex particularly (which is a whole other kettle of PVC clad fish which I'm not going to go into) I just found it boring and felt like it was something that I had to do - it gave me a facet of a personality that the people at Uni could identify with and that didn't rely on being able to name the issues of Doc Ock's first three appearances in The Amazing Spiderman. What was happening? I'm a nerd! A geek! A poindexter! I get ridiculous amounts of pleasure from watching TV and spotting intertextual references. I don't know what I'm saying. I think I'm trying to justify my actions but to be honest, I was a worthless piece of crap.
Worthless. There's a word that's been used a lot by the other crowd. And its stuck with me. I feel worthless right now. I had everything I wanted and I pissed it all away with my stupid inability to accept myself as a person who could be loved. When me and Kate first got together I used to flinch away from her after sex. She'd try to hold me and I'd just freak out. What kind of loser does that? We had sex before we kissed. Twice. I wouldn't hold her hand for two weeks after we started going out. It doesn't take a psychological genius to realise that, for me, sex and love just don't go together. I did love Kate, and I still do and I think she loved me once upon a time but I just let us drift apart and be more like friends than a couple. I never believed her when she told me that she loved me, I just convinced myself that I was a worthless human being who could never be loved and she was just saying it to make me happy. Who am I kidding? I deserve everything that's happened to me since November.
Writing my old webpage used to make me feel better but now I feel worse. I think its maybe because its the first time I've put all of these thoughts together and I can see who I am. 5 years down the line from 8 days after Uni started and I still feel just as bad.
I've really upset myself now so I'm going to have to write some happier stuff and come back to all this kate stuff later.
Date: 24th February 2004
Well, only four days after the initial rant and I'm back again. To be quite honest I should really have come back on on the 21st after, well, having the talk with Kate. I'd just got fed up of bottling everything up and acting like I'm OK around her and saying I'm happy for her and her new boyfriend when in reality it was making me sick. Physically sick. Oh boy. Well, I've got some things off my chest with her now and explained how I feel like I'm being replaced because of how fast things seem to be happening with her and Ben. I mean, she met him about a fortnight after we broke up, two weeks after that he was her boyfriend, then he was seeing her twice a week and then they were going shopping together and then he might be moving in once Anna's gone and taking her room. I had to really restrain myself from saying something like "So, have you set a date for the wedding yet? Has Ben Jr said his first word?" because, well, those are the things I wanted with Kate and always hoped would happen (although he wouldn't be called Ben Jr., natch) some day. If only he was a bastard so I could hate him, but unfortunately he's a really nice guy. I'm also kind of upset that Anna's going because, well, if she's not upsetting Kate any more then Kate won't need me to cheer her up and won't need me for.....anything, and that means I'll be here on my own. I guess that psychology test thing I took was pretty accuarate. Why does life have the audacity to be so bloody unfair? People have always personified Death as this terrifying character but it my view, its Life that's the bastard. Someone who's existence is based around pissing everyone else off. Kind of like Rush Limbaugh. Now there's a scary thought. Ooh look, I'm trying to hide genuine emotion behind pathetic comedy. I hate feeling like this, so desperate to get everything off my chest but terrified of doing so. I wish I was more like Richard. I'm too cowardly to do this honestly, too afraid of what everyone else will think of me - that they'll see me as the pathetic wretch that I am. Any other decent person would have said "Well, I'm jolly well not going to sit around here moping any longer, I'm going to get on with things!" If I get any more brooding and morose then I'll turn into a goth. Which is a bad thing because I can't afford the wardrobe. Or put up with listening to Fields of the Nephilim 24/7.
On a separate note, I took an exam today and it was piss easy. I think I'll celebrate with - nothing. Maybe a cigarette. My visit back to Blackburn cost me a little more than I initially believed. It was buying drinks for everyone, including that Hyperactive Blonde Goth that Dan introduced us to. Wanting to get a Kurt Cobain tattoo.....I ask you.