I've all these questions that I've already answered ages ago, things that I've figured out long before there was a need to really figure them out, and yet, here I am once again, trying to deal with the same old shit, what I thought was over. I feel like I'm going in circles, trying to rewrite a clear, impenetrable conclusion, trying to tweak the reasoning process so that I would reach a different ending. But it's all moot, really. I know what I want...or rather, I know what I don't want. Yet, knowing what I don't want doesn't seem to matter when I find myself re-visiting the EXACT SAME line of inquiry, asking myself the same questions, and getting the same fucking answers. Always the same fucking answers.
What am I still doing? Why is this still a problem? It's simple, it's clear cut - it's impossible. It's completely absurd, utterly ridiculous, that I still seem to think that there's a problem. There isn't a problem; it's buried and dead, it's no more. My answers can't change because the facts have not; my answers can't change because I am still the same person I've been throughout it all. And I'm not about to change myself for anyone, especially not for something that I can't even picture anything but failure at the end of it all. It's failed before anyway; why should now be any different?
There are sacrifices to be made, trade-offs to weigh. But I can't give it up, no matter how much I think I need to. I can't give it up. Either way, no matter what, I've got everything to lose, nothing more to gain.
I need an eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.
Maybe it's FINALLY time to get a boyfriend. After all, these are dispensable the way some absolutely essential things in your life are not. It is especially so if...
Maybe I just need to be alone. But I find my thoughts travelling down dark alleys where they don't belong, hurtling towards a bottomless abyss in which there is no future, no past, no present, no beginning and ending, just blackness stretching beyond the limits of infinity, endlessly suspended in vacuum. Being utterly paralysed, therefore, in that position, unable to move forward, to go backward, because I don't know what to do. It's never been a question of taking a step forward; it's always been about maintaining the status quo. Because I like the status quo - it gives me peace, it gives me stability, it doesn't make me wonder about what ifs and what could have beens. The status quo is a place where things just are, no complicated questions and hypotheses and trying to make things work.
If you have to try to make things work, it's not worth it. If you have to talk yourself out to trying to make things work, it's obviously not right. And if something isn't right, surely it must be wrong. If talking about it scares the living shit out of you, then don't do it, and more importantly, stop thinking about it. Everything sounds so attractively rational and logical and it shouldn't be hard to adhere to.
But if rationality and logic rule every single aspects of our lives and faculties every single second of the day, we would have it all figured out, wouldn't we?
And even after we have it all figured out, it doesn't mean that the nagging feeling in the heart is instantly wiped out. It doesn't mean that it overrides your feelings and your emotions. So maybe I'm not as cold and unfeeling as I had thought after all. I think the only reason I love Juliet Draper (of Cashmere Mafia - stupid name, but I love the series) so much is because I see a lot of myself in her. The ice queen facade hides her true feelings, and for me, these feelings need to be annihilated and exterminated, like pests.
Life would be so much easier if we were all robots, if feelings and emotions can be easily suppressed and compartmentalised by a very simple logical analysis of the situation. You know, how Fact #1 plus Fact #2 leads to Conclusion, QED. Quite Easily Done.
I wish I could be like that. But increasingly it's becoming obvious that I'm not like that. My feelings are not a mathematical proof, a scientific deduction. QED? Not even. QED, but so what. Fuck your logical conclusions; they're not making this...thing, this abhorrent thing, any easier to resolve.
Then again, fuck it all. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's avoidance. Flippant, escapist Whatever.