Loz (lozenger8) wrote,
Loz
lozenger8

The essence of good storytelling is embellishment...

You know? Reading through past entries wasn't quite as cathartic as I thought. Angsting and wangsting ensues.



Articulation of one's feelings is a funny thing. Sometimes it improves the situation immeasurably. Other times it becomes the glorious mud which bold hippopotami like to wallow in.

Of all of the things which could be wrong with my life, this is surely trivial. Things could be worse - much, much worse. Yet it paralyses me with feelings of absolute inadequacy. The kind which has me skipping classes at University, lying in bed for hours, and staying in my room watching comedy - because I need to feel something, something more than stupidity and loneliness and terror.

When I write it down, it looks so very pathetic. It's a testament to my failure as a human being. I'm such a cracked record about it as well. It's entry after entry, throughout the five years of journalling.

I've never been kissed, let alone had a boyfriend, let alone had sex. And for God's sake I'm 22. TWENTY TWO. It's this enormous amount of years. I've travelled halfway across the world, written a 13,000 word thesis, taught 66 young souls, but I've never been kissed!

And the thing which gets me the most, the thing which brings about these paralysing feelings of inadequacy is; I'm really not that bad. There are uglier people, fatter people, stupider people, less charismatic people, more neurotic people who have managed to somehow, oh, I don't know, have someone express some kind of interest in them. It's the curse of the ego. I'm not hideous. I'm not! I refuse to believe so! Yes, I'm overweight. Yes, I'm shy. I've definitely said and done stupid things, but haven't we all? I'm not such a human leper that I should be shunned by society.

So why? WHY? WHY WON'T ANYONE KISS ME? WHY WON'T ANYONE EXPRESS AN INTEREST IN KISSING ME? WHY?

Oh God I'm laughing so hard because it's so fucking absurd. I never meet anyone. I hardly want some person to just walk off the street and kiss me. Obviously I need to find some way of meeting people. But then, of course, that terror wells up again. The thought of going out there and doing things. It's a scary, scary thought. I'm going to be doing Mandatory Notification Training and a First Aid course in April, and these are a worrying enough notion - but it's not like there's going to be anyone kissworthy there anyway, so I hardly have to fear in that regard.

Because, now that I think about it, I don't really want to be kissed. I will surely fail. I have no idea how you go about kissing someone. The image of that much intimacy with a person worries me in and of itself.

It's just... no, no, how is this possible? It confounds me.

I'm going back to crawl into that hole in the wall now. The tears of laughter aren't so full of joy anymore.
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