I'm talking to you and all your little buddies.  Insecurity, Doubt, I'm looking at you two...

We've talked about this before...

Now shut the fuck up.

Trying to get some sleep here.

tags: we

Holy cow.

Today is January 14, 2008. 

I am shocked by the intensity of the contents of this journal.  Having re-read it for the first time in months, I feel sorry for the confused young man that wrote the previous entries.  Future Matt wishes he could go back in time, give Past Matt a hug, and tell him that someday, it'll be alright. 

He'll be happy.  He'll be happier than he thinks he can be in a far shorter time than he expects. 


Because I am.

Oh, I am.

a thousand miles away, i let the idea of being loved fade away into the sea.  I loved.  I loved.  I loved.  and now I come to think to myself, sadly, if I was ever loved. 
"we went through a lot together" will never mean " I love you. "

After years of her telling me I was so adored, it is gone.  No conversations are to be had.  No late nights staying up on the phone to look forward to anymore.  Someone better took my place.  Funny how she always thought it was I who would leave her. 

A thousand miles away, i reassure myself that i didn't leave her.  I pursued my dream.  I hoped that she would come along.  I stayed with her as long as I could. 
and then one day, she gave up hope.  the very word tattooed upon her soft lips, she forsook.  thousands of promises that I would come back one day were never enough. 
and all my suffering is just masturbation for the poor, pitiful, wreck of a young man searching for attention.  begging on the cuff of those that care not.  that is me.  my misery is misconstrued.  my anguish is unseen.  I assure you, my heartache is real.

and this boy.
this new boy of yours, so wholesome and pure.  i quietly wonder to myself how long he will put up his act to get into your jeans.  i say this because i know boys.  and the majority of them do not care. 

how quickly 'i love you' turns to dull feelings of routine gestures and words.

i am hurt.  i am alone.  i am a thousand miles away.
i want you so badly i can feel your tiny wrists in my hands.  i can see your million dollar, day-brightening smile that can pierce through any cloud or rain. 
you don't miss me.
you don't.  you don't.  you don't see me.
you don't see me at all.

all the time i thought i had someone to look forward to, i was fooling myself.
i am a fool.  A Fucking Fool.  an idiot.  a lovesick puppy dog whose owner grew tired of it being around all the time.

i rant to no one but myself.  with no particular purpose or reason.  no one reads this shit i post.  even if they did, they'd just say 'oh, what a cry for attention.'  i was told i was so high on myself that she had no intention but getting off the phone with me.

I will ask you this.
How many times did I stay on the phone while you told me I was the worst thing that ever happened to you?  How many times did I stay on the phone while you told me what a terrible day you had? 
i guess it would have been pretty hard to tell a boy that you had been through a lot with that you were dating someone else. 
all i needed was someone to say i care. 
all I needed was for you to say "I care."
all I need now is for you to say "I care."  even if it's the tiniest little speck. 

I hold back so many things, just because i never wanted to hurt you.  because i care. 
you just don't understand.  no one down here loves me.  and i don't just say that to be dramatic.  if i died, people would forget about me in a month.  then, when they graduated, they'd say 'oh, i remember that guy, kind of.'  not a soul would cry.  no one within hundreds and hundreds of miles would cry. 
it would be nice to talk to you. and i really mean talk instead of you stalling, trying to find an escape to get off the phone.  but i suppose i would want to talk to the girl i used to know.  the girl who told me she loved me.  the girl who thought i made her happy. 

fuck this.  fuck you and fuck me and fuck the world and fuck love.  love never gave me anything except two fucking black eyes and a bloody nose, with my teeth still on its arrogant bastard shoe.  love is a god damn frat boy.  love promises you that you guys are buddies and that you'll totally go on a road trip this summer.  then love gets drunk and does lines of cocaine, punching you in the jaw and fucking your girlfriend. 
That, Matthew, is love.
That is what you've been searching for your entire life.
an elaborate lie, made up by people who make movies and write books and tell fairy tales.  they never got to know him like you did.  they've only seen the 'before'.  you have seen the 'after'. 

i am insane.

she broke up with me

i just drove home from james kennedys apartment

i can still feel the effects of the half bottle of liquid death cleverly disguised with artificial banana flavoring







i've never felt more alone in my entire life

and with that, I have become the thing I always wanted to protect her from.

This is something that can never be taken back. And something I never expected. I've hit a low that I haven't felt in a long time.

So I told her that the nice, caring, giving guy that she used to know would tell her to have nothing to do with this guy. Then she hung up. I don't know where it goes from here, but I can't even express how I feel about myself right now.

"No one will ever know anyone. You're not ever gonna know me." - Sean Bateman, The Rules of Attraction


I still find pieces of glitter in my pockets.  They make me think of you when you were happy.  I'm so sorry I couldn't be what you thought I could be. 

Thus I descend.

School is everything I thought it would be and more. It's amazing, and I love every minute of it. Classes are great, the teachers are great, and for the first time in my life, I feel really motivated. I feel like I'm doing something great with my life.

Whenever someone asks me about my girlfriend, I never know what to say. I love her. I miss her. But as of right now, school seems to be my #1 priority. It's strange, it seems like most of the people that she talks to thinks I'm being completely unreasonable in this situation. Yet, most of the people that I talk to think that my course of action is absolutely the right thing to do. I think there's not really any good in asking people for advice. We really just need to trust each other. Because without trust, what is a relationship?

overdramatic sigh.

Apparently I'm going through another phase of puberty, though. My facial hair is growing faster than it ever has before, and I could probably grow a beard by christmastime, if it didn't bug the shit out of me as soon as it grows long enough to cut with scissors.

I'll rant more about things I can't help or prevent a little later, though.
For the most part, things are good.


ps. Isn't it interesting that to feel safe about writing in my journal again, about very serious things, I have to resort to this? In a way, the internet has brought everyone closer together. In a way, it's eliminated all privacy. Ironic.

So here I am. a half a bottle of Southern Comfort later. Listening to hardcore. And The Streets. Quite a fucked-up mix, if you ask me. Haha. Matches my mind. Fucked up. Eh. Oh well. Listening to "Blinding My Eyes" is so fucking epic. It's like the end of the world is here, and it's the last song I'll ever hear. It's like it's the last song anyone will ever hear. I haven't been this drunk in a while. Honest to god, I wish I had something more other than the SoCo. Yeah. It's one of Those Nights. One of those nights where you just want to get fucked up beyond all recognition. Where you almost want to get so fucked up that you die. Like the Motion City Soundtrack song "LGFUAD". Golly. I'm pretty sure that I drank too much, and I'll be sorry that I posted this tomorrow.

It's just a 'stream of consciousness thing'. Dont' worry about it. Honest. Believe me. I deserve this high. I deserve more than this high. I almost wish I had something else. Something harder than alchohol. And something that's not weed. It just makes me freak out. Ah well. I'll post this and not proofread it. It'll be a remembrance of that 2006 thanksgivingnight where I got really fucked up and felt sort of like an alchoholic. But didn't quite remember what i posted on LJ. What a night this will be. A night to forget.

And even drunk, I attempt to be poetic. Gosh.

Last night I cried for the first time in a long time. I'm glad that I could do it on the shoulder of a girl that I love.

I had the worst dream of my life last night.

I was the only one in the world that cared for anyone. It was a world full of promiscuity and vengeance. Everyone was far too vindictive and judgemental to do anything but care for themselves. In fact, it seemed that everyone seemed to go out of their way to hurt anyone that cared about them. and I was the only one that held things like love sacred. So I decided that if I held my breath until I didn't want to breathe anymore, things would be better, at least for me. So I did.

I awoke coughing. I think I was actually going to stop myself from breathing in my sleep.


Today I remembered that when I was little, like elementary school or before, I used to hear voices before I went to sleep. I remember a few years ago talking to Jefferson about it, and he said that I was scared at first, but then I got used to them. I guess I could talk back to them, and they would respond accordingly. I'm not sure what it means exactly. Maybe I just had an overactive imagination.
But what I want to know is if I still tried, if I would still hear them. Maybe I blocked these voices out. Maybe I just ignore them. Maybe I told them to leave me alone. Or maybe they were in my head all along.
Kind of strange.

I went to work as the sun was coming up, and I came home as the sun was coming down. It was always on my left. I'm in kind of a strange mood today.

Fuck love.

Fuck every person on earth who has ever been in love, and had a beautiful thing, and threw it all away for a reason that in the end meant nothing.

"I've seen love die way too many times when it deserved to be alive." - Paramore

I tiptoe along a very thin line between overly manic and severely depressed. Sometimes I wonder if I'm a danger to myself. And other times I realize that I could never be a danger to myself. It's just that maybe, just maybe I could get the selfish attention that I constantly crave if I were less reserved.

Every person that always says "I don't believe in love" or "Love is an illusion" lies. They have been in love. And they lost it. Sometimes I wonder about that saying. "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I'm almost certain that whoever wrote that had never been through the things that so many of us have been through.
Actually losing it.

I figured out what I'm going to be for halloween this year. The same thing I am every other day. A fucking emo song.

I'm so happy. And I am so upset. It's windy today. Hopefully it'll blow me to one side or the other of my very thin line. Because even being upset is better than not knowing how you feel about something.

And this is what my posts look like before I format them in my head.

He shivered a bit as he took the walk from his car. He shivered a bit, stuffing his hands in his pockets and keeping his head down. She was waiting outside.

So when he saw her, he shook a little more. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this scared. His mix cd was finally done, but it wasn't what she was expecting. She was probably waiting for just a mix of songs thrown together, but he had more in store than that.
Ever since she said "It won't mean as much," he had been thinking. This was his chance to say what he really felt, since he had screwed things up before, he had thought. So away he went.
Over the course of the past two weeks, he had carefully listened to almost every song in his library, trying to find those perfect ones. The right melody, with the right lyrics. Hard to believe that such a variety of different sounding songs could have so many intertwining concepts. Such a complex, twisted emotion; this love thing.

So there it was. The moment it had all led up to. Would it win her back? Would it make her laugh, cry? Would it have no impact at all? As he handed it to her in its folded paper package, he knew that only time would tell.

I'm in trouble.
I'm in danger.
I'm in ecstacy.
I'm in love.

I'm so sorry for everything that I did wrong. I wish today could have gone on forever.

-
"You never made me a mix cd..."
"I still could, ya know?"
"Yeah, but it wouldn't mean as much."
And with those words that spit out of her mouth, he felt something tear right in the center of his chest.
-

Apart from that, today was the happiest day I've had in weeks. We were both happy. And I wish every day could be like that.

'Make them wonder why you're still smiling.'


So I think I'll give it a try.

When you finally find your passion for what you'd like to make your life to be, and your mother says "prove it..."
When you start a job you don't even want to do to earn money for college, and your father is somehow disappointed...
When you think very seriously about throwing up after work because it might make you feel better...
When you know that a dark season is coming and there's nothing you can do to stop it...
When you don't have any idea how great life is until six months later...
When another six months passes and you think about how great life was back when you thought it wasn't so great...
When you really have no idea what you have until it's too little too late...

'Come find me.'

Opening in theaters in maybe twenty years.
Probably never.

"And even when your Hope is gone...
Move along, just to make it through."

Why is it that people only know what they have when it's gone?




This is harder than I thought it would be, and I still don't even know what's changed.

"Hold your head high, heavy heart. Save your strength for the morning after."

I have realized something about myself. I have this unbreakable desire (I'd almost call it 'i need') people, friends, family, to reach out to me. To say "Hey! I miss seeing you!" Or "Let's hang out! I love hanging out with you!"
For some reason, if I don't get that, I feel as though nobody likes me.

Now, my brain is smart enough to realize that that's not true. But I constantly wage wars with myself on 'What's right' and 'What I feel'. So neither side ends up winning.
Damn, I've got issues. Thankfully everyone else does and I'm not just phsychotic.

Just needy.

Here I can be vague.

For those who don't want to deal with the ramblings of a mind that sometimes can barely contain the thoughts inside of it...
...it's easy.
Just don't read.

More to come, in time.