Yeah, It's a song by Juno Reactor. Not sure why it's titled that way. (MEANINGFUL RAMBLE WARNING)

It seems that most people, no matter how good natured, just can't seem to stop asking if I have a significant other. And the astonishment that I have never had one ... that doesn't stop, either. Kinda irritating. They don't really get that I know that I'm in an unstable spot in my life, and am also emotionally unready for that kind of attachment. (And I feel so young, anyway...)
It may outwardly seem like I lead the ideal life, with nothing better to do than hang around campus and chum. Facts are, I'm faced with too many decisions right now. I go find people, to keep myself sane. One may ask, then is it not the ideal time to have someone to steady you? Au contraire, I feel that is cheating; having someone close soley for one's own comfort is a selfish using of another.
Though there are times when I wish I had just such a person, to give me direction and encouragement, I know these are just dreams, whispers into the wind. I am too wild, too rebellious to follow any but one who has my complete and total respect. As of yet, God is the only one to ever claim that respect. And against him, I still rebel. A fool's errand.
My mother always knew that I'd be difficult. I enjoy pushing most limits and most people to exasperation. Authority? Generally obeyed, but usually with a telling, sardonic expression. This is not to say that I get in trouble, but that I humor those in higher places because it isn't worth the trouble of getting in trouble. I'm slippery as an eel, very seldom doing anything quite wrong enough to get snagged for it (or those times when I flagrantly break the rules but have a good reason for doing so, and heads just turn the other way), but have a history of infuriating authority figures. I slip away on technicalities, aware that some rule will probably be written to forbid whatever I did. But bending the same rule over and over often gets boring after the first or second time.
I can be a master of persuasion and reasoning, as well as beating around the bush. Being specific and vague at the exact same time delights me. I'd like to think that on-the-fly explanations and making up reason makes up for my inability to fight my way out of a virtual paper bag (i.e. vidgames).
I'll play mind games only with particular people and in particular circumstances. The power, ability to wrap someone around my little finger can be, in the least, slightly frightening. Therefore, it is the least developed of my abilities.
This power of mind frustrates me at times because I can also decieve and play mind games and tricks on myself without even realizing it. Thus, I have to constantly check my perspective, view, against cold, hard reality. My family has a history of being both stunningly brilliant, and slightly mad. I am doing everything I can to avoid the insanity of having a powerful mind. It bends and twists and contorts over on itself, power greater than the ability to manage it. This manafests itself the most in school. I will grasp an idea, and my mind will grab it and rocket off in a different direction than I need to be thinking. Much like a wild, willful, powerful horse under an ignorant rider.
My victories are few and far between and I am ill-equipped to handle such power when I do harness it.

And yes, all of this relates directly back to the first idea I presented. This is a large part of why it's impossible for me to have someone majorly in my life. I need to get a good many things finished and do some major work on self before I could ever even consider another in my life, especially a dominant.

But when/IF (big if, there) he does come around, I think I will know him by his depth of character, power of will to match or exceed my own. I have to be able to respect him. This is its own challenge, as I will challenge him many times in uncountable ways. He must prove himself worthy of leadership. Metal is proven in the forge.
"Your standards are too high, you'll never find someone like that."
Yeah, well, I won't settle. I WILL wind up taking the reins from a man who cannot handle me, and I will seethe under a cold, authoritarian hand.

But for the man who gains my respect and respects me in turn, I would go to the ends of the earth to find. He must first love God and then me, with a depth and strength beyond words; I may love him all I can, but if he does not love me, it means nothing. If he does not love God, who will show him, in turn, how to love me, the relationship between us would suffer from the lack of that structural integrity and vibrant power.

I have seen him once but faintly... another story for another day.

My own senseless anger irritates and saddens me beyond reason. The anger itself slams me down into depression, the bitter fire searing my heart. Leaves me drained, regretting the passion. Every time, it opens a long, shallow wound that heals quickly, but leaves a scar. There is a part of me, deep inside, that it doesn't touch... place of sadness, stillness, gentleness. Though the storm rages within, I let it run its course, knowing that if I do, it will leave, as opposed to bottling it up and not allowing it recognition.

There are no words for this rage so violent. A hurricane pales in figurative comparison. And the trigger, the mention or sight of one particular individual. I know that is neither right nor good, however, things are what they are.

It bothers me that some things bother me, more than they should. Like dreams. Most of the time I'm fine... but sometimes there's a dream sequence that just unsettles me. Or the fact that a certain person is in a dream. It shouldn't, but it gets under my skin. Don't know why it irritates me to such an extreme level... I'll growl about it for days as I'm reminded of it. Most dreams I can control, but there are some that are beyond my grasp, and that really gets to me when there are people in my dreams who I don't want to think about. Consciously or subconsciously. There are no words for the frustration. Nnngh.

Shredded pieces of yellow notebook paper litter the floor. Tired of thinking, feeling. Wanting only to move myself. Do something, anything. Burning under my skin to silence the doubts and step out of self-imposed prisons. But it's so hard when I'm so cold. Emotions have been shutting down for years, raging behind blast doors. It's what I do to survive.
I'm sick of just surviving. I want to grow, to learn how to live again. I've been in the same place for over two years, two years too long. Sanity only lasts so long in solitary. I've kept myself locked down for even longer, only interacting on a surface level, never trusting enough to let go. Seems like there's no counter to the pain, and it's all that ever comes. I fight the bitterness it brings, but without trusting, there is no antidote to the poison. It slams through my veins, black fire that fuels fear and anger, killing my heart and hope. Flirting with apathy about the things that matter most to me, becoming dangerously unbalanced. Falling into the very state I hate the most, walking dead.

I fear what you would find if you really took the time to look. Do you know? Do you choose to see, or turn away? I'm a mess and I know it, but it hurts when you don't give me a chance to show my better sides, don't let me make you laugh. For all the struggles and darkness, there is a simplicity, a warm summer day to a spring thunderstorm. If I'm being too intense, clue me in so that I can adapt, or, even better, go toe to toe with me.

Current Location: in my truck
Current Mood: Freezing in the truck.

Such was quitting work at the car dealership. I had had enough of being treated subversively, manipulated, singled out among the women, etc.

No one can make me into something I am not.