Thoughts: Approach Anxiety

So I go and sit down in the library and I see this girl.

She’s sitting alone to my left, in a glass-walled ‘discussion room’ that’s usually used when two or more people want to fuck around under the guise of ‘studying’.

Sitting cross-legged on the chair, she intently pores over the pages strewn in front of her. A black dress that with hangs with strings from her shoulder reveals her tanned skin that glows with a healthy hue. Her dark hair is tied back in a bun, with a fringe still perched across her forehead.

She leans on one arm, then the next, then back again, shuffling and re-shuffling collections of pages. She seems frustrated, stressed. I can’t approach now. I’d be interrupting.

Or would I? Continue reading

Windfall – End of Week 11 – 27th of January 2014

This year is going to be interesting, at the very least.

The last few days back on campus have made me feel like I’m approaching the tipping point, the breakthrough that all of the painful years since puberty have been leading up to.

Though I’m getting tired of having to bring it up all the time, I should probably start off this post with how much my ex has been on my mind, especially the drunk texting episode I had two nights ago; and the fact that I ran into her in person today for the first time since the break-up nine months ago. Continue reading

Early

12315123A frantic, cathartic first draft. Subject to review.

I want to be funny. I want to be ironic. I want this post to have a punchline somewhere. I’m in such a goddamn world of hurt right now, I wish I could just laugh it off and know that shit’s going to be okay.

I moved back to campus three days ago with the intention of returning to a place I’ve always found vexing in one way or another. Be it that I’m surrounded by people my age, or the free availability of good work environments, or perhaps just wanting to get an early start to what was no doubt going to be a very tumultuous year. I thought it was going to be a positive change. Continue reading

Moving Out

Can’t stay here anymore, cooped up in an apartment, doing nothing.

There’s no real driving force for anything in my life. Friends and acquaintances, people I’ve sat down with and talked with non-stop for hours, they have dreams, passions. The guy that got recruited by Harvard before he even left high school, because he was the best squash player in the country. Across all age groups. Trained through congenital kidney failure, compartment syndrome, still managed straight As at school. He’s Jesus to me and every other guy running a self-improvement blog on the Internet.

Or the girl I got stuck on since I met her during the first week of university orientation. Smart, funny, reasonably good-looking. Told me she gets up every morning and goes to class because she wants to learn, because it’s genuinely fun for her to crack open a textbook and absorb the finer details of Saccharomyces or some shit. I run into her on campus all the time, stop and talk for a minute or two, reminded why I leave the apartment instead of completing all my courses behind a bedroom door.

Class starts in just under two weeks. All of the existentialist angst that’s been brewing during the break will disappear like mist under the sun. I’m going to be among people; real, corporeal human beings living their lives around me. Continue reading

Cabin Fever – End of Week 10 – 20th of January 2014

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Cabin fever really, really fucks with me.

My MacBook died on, what was it, Wednesday? I take it in, standing in the iStore amidst the bustling crowds of the financially overburdened. They tell me the hard-drive broke. The expensive-as-fuck, solid-state drive just said fuck it, I’m out and obliterated itself.

This felt unfair. The worst I stored on it was one porn video, right there smack-bang in the ‘Videos’ folder. The title was in Spanish. It was amateur, of a couple. Harmless shit. There were no barely-legal teens harmed in the making. There is no cause for digital karmic rebalance.

Anyway. I wasn’t terribly perturbed, since all of my academic work consists of flash cards that are backed up on the ‘net and various other devices. I lost perhaps 12 hours of other work, but all things considered, I wasn’t punished nearly severely enough for ignoring the daily warnings to back up my system. I thought I lucked out: I could fetch my old Dell monstrosity from my flat and use it in the meantime. What’s more, since the cooling system on it is fucked, I also had an excuse to haul my 27” monitor, keyboard and Razer™ Naga® Gaming Mouse with me. This meant that I could leave my laptop closed and upside down, vents facing upward and unobstructed, and ‘work’ (read: play DotA 2) with ease. I also had an excuse not to go into the office.

So I thought things were looking up. Continue reading

Testicular Sovereignty – End of Week 9 – 13th of January 2013

MY GENES ARE YELLING AT ME AGAIN

MY GENES ARE YELLING AT ME AGAIN

What is perhaps most frustrating is reading through old material and realising that, barring changes in age and location, shit is still pretty much the same. There might be a good deal of improvement, sure, but the core fucking issue is still goddamn there.

There’s this monolithic problem that sits atop my life, a colossal wall of but I don’t want to or maybe tomorrow or fuck I could really do with a great jacking off right now. I chip away at it from time to time, but the boulder blocking the way still rests invulnerable with inertia.

This is a forum post I where I put up an excerpt from a private journal I was keeping in October of 2013. Again, barring details, it word-for-word describes what I’m still stuck with:

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This is an excerpt from a journal entry that I wrote today. There’s a lengthy chunk of text that precedes the discussion of vulnerability, which has been highlighted in bold, so feel free to skip towards the end. I’ve added a note or two clarifying points I thought were pertinent.

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[Background: Times have been tough lately, fell off the wagon with my general routine of studying, exercise, cooking, cleaning etc. Had a moment of weakness on Thursday where I began texting my ex, being needy as fuck, looking to her for comfort as I did in the past. She was unreceptive.]

I’ve continually made it clear to myself that once I find someone else, all of this desperation and neediness surrounding my ex will evaporate. Lately, I’ve used E——*, the engaged girl I approached in biochemistry, as an example of the type of person that waits for me if I persevere. Even just passing her on campus today and talking for a minute or two, I felt loads better. Continue reading