i'm pretty certain at this point in time that no one reads this. and thank god. at least there's some place that i can feel like i'm being open and heart on sleeve without really doing it. come to think of it, i feel like i wear my heart on my sleeve, even though i am pretty reserved...unless i start acting crazy. b/c i'm pretty much stuck in my head all day, thinking my thoughts and i feel like everyone can tell just by the expressions that cross my face. i've never really felt like i was really particularly closed off, but i'm beginning to see that if you don't say it aloud and tell someone...you're pretty much closed up. but i don't know, i just don't like to rant anymore, it was all good fun when i was younger, b/c i could be angry and cynical without feeling like some old crazy bastard, but now it's like i'm old enough that i should know better, or just do something about it instead of bitching and moaning. that's why i'm getting my life in order. this year, i'm getting something published, by god, and i'm gonna get paid to write. i'm tired of sitting on my stories and writing and writing and never really doing anything with it. so that's check one.

also, for a tangent, and not to get too stuck on my self improvements, i've realized a thing or two about you, well me and you and i don't know what to do about it. i'm pretty sure i'm the one that's gonna get hurt out of the deal. b/c frankly, i don't know what you see in me. i'm just waiting for the hammer to fall. but until then, i'm so enjoying your company, and you're not really my type, which is awesome. i dunno, it's hard to really explain. i mean, i could try, i've got the time right now, but it seems all in vain. like i'm gonna go through all this long list of wow's and wonderful's and it's just gonna be wasted b/c you'll wake up in a couple of days and realize i'm a waste of time, when there's definitely more attractive and interesting people out there than me.

wow, i went from self improvement to self depricating (is that even really a word), anyway. let's just go ahead and open this vein b/c my head's hurting thinking about it.

i am absolutely nuts about you. who you are. how you are. the smells. the looks. the feels. and how you make me feel when i'm around you. and i hate it b/c you affect me. already. so soon and i'm wrapped around you like the red stripe on a white candy cane. it makes me sick to really think about, b/c i'm sure this is all just good and fun to you. i'm someone to hold you, and cuddle and tell you sweet things that are obviously nice to hear, no matter how much someone says them. but eventually, i'll be old news, like an outdated tabloid blowing off in the next wind. but me, what do i want. you. just as long as you figure to stay around. now here's the part that i want to say that i could make promises and oodles of fucking nice secure words, but i can't. i'm not a bad person, but i'm not a good person either, and i've got my own problems. i like you, and i'm letting myself fall for you, despite all the fibers in me that pull against it. i know you're gonna chew me up and spit me out b/c that's what you put out there - careless party girl - WHOO!, but deep inside, there's that hopeless romantic asshole that's just sitting there with his pipe, in a bathrobe reading shakespeare and fucking laughing, saying, "Yes, yes...go for it, m'boy! You'll never get another chance like this!" and it's that hopelessly romantic bastard that's gonna lead me straight to hell. i want to sit here and tell you that you'd be the first person i've cared about, and the first to affect me in this way, but you're not. like you said, i'm tainted. i've lived a stupid life of floating from one heartbreak to the next (not always mine, mind you) and i've become this used shell that's just waiting to be filled. how'd you put it? oh yeah, a robot that wants to be something other than metal. that's pretty much me, you nailed it. i want to tell you that i can give you all the things that you want, and the best anyone could ever promise. but that's not me. what i can tell you, and promise, is that i'd do my damnest to make you happy every chance i got, and i'd stick around as long as i was wanted/needed. i'm pretty good at that when i need to be. i want to say that i'd never get tired of you, wake up every day and stare in your eyes and know it's where i need to be, but i can't. i can say that i'll never wake up one day and not be there, i won't wake up one day and automatically want someone else. i know myself well enough to tell when things are deflating, and heading down that road. and if you still wanted me around, i'd work at it. but i know this isn't what you want, which is why i know i'm gonna be the one broken to pieces when the tweets and texts stop.

and now saying all this, i realize how vulnerable i've made myself, how uninteresting and boring i've just become. no one likes the safe bet that's gonna tuck you in and kiss you on the forehead when you're feeling down. they want that exciting person that'll carry them away on some fantasy until the day ends, and the night only gets better. i'm not that person. i'm real. i'm here. do what you will and kick me to the curb, i'll live. and five years from now, i'll still be the same person b/c it's who i am. not starved for love, hell - i'm pretty sure it's just a naive idea, but not completely closed off no matter how much it hurts, over and over. i'm that idiot. full of stupid hope, and a little luck that never really goes anywhere. hopefully, though, one day it will. i'm that guy that no one wants to be, b/c deep down under the cynicism and anger and stupid jokes, i'm soft. i'm pretty sure most people know that, but i've never admitted it to anyone. that's that. plain and fucking simple, whitey.

man...i've really just lit up the page with words. sorry. hope i'm not wasting anyone's time here just rambling on like a five year old that just found out about being able to stand up and pee anywhere he wants. pretty amazing stuff, no?