The Write Words.

Sometimes the amount of time that passes as I search for the proper words to speak my mind, amazes me. I guess if anything, it proves to my own critical mind that, I am indeed a writer.
Always searching for the right thing to say. Always worried that if I don't word things properly, or explain myself as best as possible...the wrong interpretation could be made, and things could go horribly awry. Yet at the same time, I get so angry that I often edit the things that initially come out, just so that the wrong thing isnt misconstrued.
The time that is spent going through the "Nope...not happy with that...must delete" process in my blogs, is near ridiculous.

Bear with me.

At this exact moment, I feel like I'm in a room with four walls and seventeen corners. I feel like I walk slowly, edging against the walls.....though all I really want to do is hide myself in the corner.

I'm not sure why I've been in this ...misplaced sort of mood today. It's one of those things I can't escape. Not today, not yesterday. Last week. Last year. Ever.

I'm not exactly sure, if it goes back to the horrible way I was raised and always feeling inferior to everything...or if its just something that gradually happened along the way to where I am now....
But, I tend to take minor things that most people wouldn't see as a "thing" and find a way to spin into some sort of personal attack against myself.

I tend to automatically think everything I do is wrong. That I'm not good enough. That I'm never going to be good enough. For myself, for someone else. For anything.
My opinion of myself, especially in the last few years has gotten so ....exasperatingly small. It almost feels vaporized.

This becomes a problem for me, quite often. Sometimes I'm able to shake it off, and sometimes it tends to linger around for longer than it should.
Today is one of those days, where it's all kinda grabbing me by the balls and not letting go.

I spend alot of time, trying to seem like a tough guy. I give a valiant effort towards appearing to the masses, as a strong willed, independant kinda guy, who could care less what a person thinks.
And, while that's part truth, it's also part fiction.

I think, I want people to think good thoughts of me. Then, if I find out they don't, I say "fuck you..i dont care what you think..I dont like you anyway". Or something to that extent.
But, when someone has something good to say...I feed off of it, like a homeless man to a 40 oz.

I'm one of those people that, if not recieving compliments, I feel like.....theres something wrong.
I panic. I worry.

I guess this all sort of started over this person leaving me messages. If you've been lucky enough to see them on the blog, before I've deleted them...consider yourself lucky.

Deep down, I know that this person is just trying to get under my skin, and by letting him/her...I'm giving them what they want. I know this. And half of me is like, whatever..I don't care.
But, if I'm being honest..I do care.

As mean, and brutal as people think I am....I'm really not. Deep down, underneath the exterior walls I build around myself, I'm actually a really good guy. Someone who cares alot about people, and feels compassion. Somewhere along the road I learned that, that guy gets mauled upon....and if I'm going to survive with my heart/mind intact, I've gotta adapt myself into something that can survive in my surroundings.
Somehow, I turned into someone that...seems unconcerned with feelings belonging to anyone but my own. But, infact this is not true.

This person leaving comments has found a weakness in me. A crack in the wall, in which he/she can stick their hands through...and ultimately expose me as a fraud.
What will the world think of Nick, if they know he isn't a heartless bastard, with real-life feelings?
The part of me, that is afraid of people "getting one up on me", or making me look bad, is so afraid that this person is going to say something about me, and someone will read it, and....then what?
Instead of focusing on the fact that, anyone with common sense, reading a blog, and the comments by some anonymous asshole will be able to differentiate between fact, and someone just talking shit to get under someones' skin....I focus on, well...."what if this person says something stupid like.. "you have aids" and..someone reading actually believes it". "What are they gonna think about me".
And, I'm ashamed of that. The fact is, I shouldn't worry about what someone else says about me. Nor should I concern myself with what someone else is going to think, about me after hearing these things....true or false.
I'm afraid that this person is going to say something about the person I love, that others might frown upon. Or, that I myself might let get the best of my paranoid thoughts, and start to question. Which, by all guesses...Is exactly what this person wants me to be worried about.

The fact is if you read this blog, you either know me, or you don't. You either know my boyfriend, or you dont. And, my defenses of what a random person has to say, isn't going to really combat anything other false accusations, and maddening ideas.
A force of negativity, placed into my life by someone wishing to make things difficult for me.

I've speculated for weeks over who it could be...I get messages to my phone. Emails. Instant Messages. It's almost like I have a stalker. Which, is almost endearing.

The words that this person has to say, isn't what hurts me. It's the trickle down effects of the comments that suck.
I start to get all "well....maybe i am ugly" Then I feel like..I'm never told otherwise...it must be true! and I get all sequestered. I distance myself...because I feel worthless, or not what I should be. Not enough.
And, that's where I'm giving this person strength over me.

I'm sure this blog will stir up all sorts of things, causing this person to give themself giant pats on the back. So, I'll save you the trouble and just say...congratulations. You have succeeded, in making me feel like shit.
But, I'm done with it now. Your wins are now your losses. You can continue if you wish. But, my tendency to beat myself up over words that aren't valid, by someone who can't even list their real name....has reached it's conclusion.

Maybe I am ugly. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I am HIV positive. Maybe I'm not. (I'm not! lol)Maybe my boyfriend has a history that he isn't proud of. Maybe he's a different person, in a different situation. Maybe he's not. Maybe I should kill myself because noone loves me, and maybe I shouldn't....maybe someone does.
Either way, your words, whether they be fact or not, are not going to have me afraid and angry of/with myself anymore.
Lord knows I beat myself up enough, without the help of anyone else.

...
I just wish my life was easier. I get so tired of being me, with all my idiocrasies. All my difficult ways. My hard to manage personality. My destructive ways of loving, and what nots.
My journey to feel like someone special....continues. It's all I really want.


"I wish I was special......So fucking special. I'm a creep." -Radiohead-