I spend too much time online.

I'm not really kidding, either.

      Practically all of my free time is spent online. I probably suffer from Internet Addiction, even though I don't personally consider behavioral addictions to deserve their own distinctions. I'm sure gambling addiction is justifiable in some sense, but almost all behavioral addictions operate the same way. Not that I actually know much about this, just what I manage to remember from my psychology class, which I had a C in. That too, is probably because I'm on the internet too much.

      If I think about it, the internet is probably the primary source of the majority of my troubles. From shit-posting on Facebook to the annoyingly frustrating arguments on online forums, (and more shit-posting) it's a center of frustrations.

And generally, it all leads to depression.

Actually, a lot of things do that. But recently, it's been my sluggish behavior when ever I start to feel depressed that makes it worse, and sends me spiraling down into further depression. Whether it was started by a fight, someone I care about being depressed and feeling their pain, or just contemplating the fact that the universe will end by sheer lack of energy. But really, there's no point for me to slump into depression like that, right? Right. So why do I do it?

Because I'm a hypocrite, that's why. I always tell people that they shouldn't get down, and to try to live their lives happily. Then, I turn around and do the opposite, wallowing in misery and depression. Contemplating suicide, running away, ditching my future, a few other things. The scariest part is that all of these seem like viable options to me, and I don't even have that bad of a life. I just hate myself anyway. I guess that's why I have this. because I need a vent.

Oh yeah, it's been a while since I posted.

Yeah, I know it has. I was in PA, and I was there because my friend lives there. Well, I'm home now, so I guess I can use some of my wallowing time to post on this thing. I doubt I'll ever be able to hold to my schedule, but at least I can post. And who knows, maybe I'll even continue this when I'm in tech school.

Oh yeah, and to a certain someone reading this, I love you. Feel better, okay? :)

Day two, and the attempt at a schedule.

Things get fucked up.

I'll be the first to admit it. My sleep schedule is fucked up.

      I'm not kidding, really. It's horrendously fucked up. So are my thought patterns right now, probably because of that. I'm trying to reset my sleep schedule, but it got pushed forward and entire hour, somehow. My average sleep time is 4am. For the last week, it was terribly skewed, but for reasons previously discussed. Now though, I'm laying in bed, thinking of how I should schedule this shit.

That reminds me, actually.

      I need to set this up so I'm on a regular schedule, kinda. I'm thinking I'll be doing these somewhere between every four days, and every week. That way, I'll actually have something to ramble about, instead of just a bunch of spoken nothing.

And now you're going to hear about my dream.

      I once lost a G.I. Joe on the side of a road. It was devastating to me, because he was my favorite. I was too young to remember the name of him, but he was awesome. Last night, I dreamt of it. Well, kinda. The dream started out ans my typical sex dream, which seems to be the most common final dream of the night, aside from my mind reminding me of my fear of rejection. That's a different topic for another time, though.

      Last night, I dreamt that I found my G.I. Joe right in front of the house of a kid I knew. I began to ride my bawlin' ass Motorcycle away, because apparently I want one of those and I don't know it. However, before I could get anywhere, the kid's father came out to do yardwork, and caught me. I rode off, and he chased me a good thirty miles. That's right, this G. I. Joe was so precious, a thirty mile chance was necessary.
     At one point, I ducked into a mall. He was literally right on my ass the whole time, and the only reason I managed to keep him from catching up to me was that I had magically learned how to free run. So there I was, jumping from store roof to store roof, then swinging to the ground from a decorative tree, all so that I could keep my prized G. I. Joe. I can't remember much more than the ending from here.
      When we finally left the mall, he caught me. And then, for fuck all reasons, he left. That's the last time I will stay up that late.

Manly Men Don't Cry.

      I'm not entirely sure how this works, to be honest. Openers, I mean. I've never had a blog before. I've managed a friend's for him once, when he had no Internet. I'm sure the reason is because I've been opposed to the idea, because I'm just not one to be open about my feelings.

I guess things change?

      Really, it's only the recent events in my life that have shown me I need to find somewhere to pour my heart out when the ears of someone aren't available. I guess this will just be for me to calm myself or something like that, because that seems to be the trend with blogs now; blogs are some place to pour out your heart so you can actually think clearly for a few hours.

      And it's now that I'm starting the second paragraph of this section that I am realizing that, like every other site, the tab button still does not indent the paragraph. Fuck. Well, there goes the second paragraph.

You're probably wondering how this has to do with the title, huh?

Well shut up, I'm getting to it.

      For now, let's talk about stupid things, because pouring my heart out isn't going to just happen. Nooooo, you have to earn that. Because manly men don't cry. Not that I'm at all a manly man. Sure, I'm your typical level of masculinity, if not a bit less because I hate gender role and such. I suppose now is a good time to admit that I'm not quite straight, but I have no fucking clue what I am. I don't care for labels in this respect anyway, so why bother? 

Aaaaand the title.

      I've always been the kind of guy who likes to keep his emotions hidden, and goof around with friends. Me and my best friend get along all the time and can have very heartfelt conversations, because we're so close. That doesn't change the fact that I always try to hide my feelings from everyone else. Hell, my girlfriend even doesn't get to see my feelings a lot, and I'm sure it aggravates the shit out of her. Sorry everyone. Basically, my entire life, I have grown to believe that if you cry, you're weird.

      Maybe I just got the wrong impression from the schoolyard banter, or maybe it was the looks my "friends" gave me when I cried after a fight. Now that I think about it, that happened a lot. After almost every fight, I'd cry. Fuck you, puberty.
      The last time I cried, and this is not counting any time within the past year and whatever, was... Sophomore year, in high school. It was shortly after I had moved, when I had finally begun to get set in with my new friends. Then me and my best friend ended up is a massive schism that put us at odds with each other for months, before we magically began to talk to one another. It was during that time, when i felt as though everyone I cared for had abandoned me, that I cried. After that, I had never cried again. That is, until a couple of weeks before my current relationship, and a situation I shall not explain twice. Sorry, I just explained it.
      Since then, thanks to a few rather unkind words from someone I would rather not talk about, I have made attempts to be open. And open I have not been, by any normal standard of the term. Only a year ago did I let myself become attached to someone to the point that they're now my life. I'm 18, so I suppose that's a normal time to start this. I've grown so attached to this person that I'm hating myself for everything that I've done up until now, because I realize that I've still been acting like a complete dick. Well, I am one. I'm a complete and total asshole, and I have the Internet myself to thank.
      Only it's grown completely out of hand. I've become such a dick that my passive-aggressive tendencies which I've done great to keep in check, almost tore my relationship apart a few days ago. For the few days since then, sleep was impossible, feeling good was a matter of whether or not I could get a few minutes on the phone or not, and I wallowed in misery.

Go cry, Emo kid.

      Exactly. That's exactly what I told myself. And do you know what I did? I cried, and I cried for quite a while. Well, not that anyone could see that I cried, I did my best to avoid showing anyone. Except for today. Today, I cried in front of her, because I couldn't help myself. And as bad as it sounds, that's the only thing that saved my relationship. I suppose that's a good thing, because I was actually showing feeling for once. If anyone could tell you how apathetic I act, it's her and my best friend, but meh. So I suppose that's that, right? No. Now I have an even harder and ultimately life changing road ahead. I have to prove to her - and ultimately myself - that I can be more than just an asshole. I have to prove to myself that I can actually do sometime right in a relationship, and make this work.

      As a final note, thank whoever designed this composing page, because that automatic save feature saved me twice here. Peace.