| Subject: This is probably important... |
Author:
Samantha
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Date Posted: 15:51:41 03/13/02 Wed
I think it's finally happened. I didn't want it to happen, but in the back of my mind I always knew. Besides, I'm about the right age for this anyways. It was inevitable. It still hurts.
The curtain has set on my time here. I'm quitting, in a sense. To some of you, this may hurt as much as it hurts me. To others of you, you couldn't care in the least. But I've realized that for months ow I never post and I havn't been in chat, and I don't feel guilty. I don't feel sad either. I don't particularly feel happy, but I do feel free. I love all my charcters so much, but very few people agreed with me. I'm going to immortalize my characters, though I haven't figured out how yet. I might draw them all, I might make a site for them all, but the biggest idea I have is to write their stories.
JBTH was a great experience for me, ans I'll never forget it. I've learned so many things here, and I've loved most of my time here. But, as we all know, eventually you just get too old. When anyone else said this, I never believed them, but it's true.
I realize that I'm the co-owner and that Lauren's never around, so I'll still keep that role, even though I don't do much. I think JBTH can pretty much run itself. That's something I've always loved about this game.
Unfortunatly, the online RPG world is dying. I think this is due to online computer games that reach the safe effect without the player needing to write anything. These games are actually pretty nifty, but the mb rpgs just can't compete. I don't think JBTH will ever be able to reach it's full potential again, and I'm sorry to see that. I've tried, and I nkow you guys have tried, but it's just not going to happen. Too many people are getting too old and there aren't any new people taking their places. JBTH is a great legacy, but also a fading one.
If you've got any questions, comments, or you just don't want to loose contact with me, here's my contact info. You know I love all you guys and I'd love to talk, and maybe even rp on ims some time, but I just have no will power to come back here for role playing.
e-mail - witchbaby@thevortex.com
aim - rymbaby
msn - rymbaby@hotmail.com
icq - 152723470
Now, everything below this is my own rambling. No one has to read it. If I were you, I wouldn't. But maybe if you care about me and what's wrong in my life, you'll read.
I think the final blow to my considering quitting JBTH was this feeling of worthlessness that has washed over me in the past few days. Kind of irnoic that it happens during spring break, the partying point of the year, but it's happened nonetheless. I feel pointless. I want so badly to write, but I'm never motivated. I want so badly to draw, but my art never stacks up. I don't sing anymore because I quit choir. It got too competitive. I miss that. I want to read but for some reason I can't focus when I'm in my room, unless I'm reading off the internet. I'm constantly bored.
I'm crying as I write this, and I don't know why. I never cry. I don't even cry about the girl I'm in love with anymore, which says a lot. It doesn't mean that I care more about myself, it shows that I'm in a really screwy mental state.
My back hurts. I can't lean against the chair. I fell down the stairs a little bit ago. I also have this inflamed bruise on my elbow from it. I felt completely embarassed, even though the only person who saw was my dad, and he's the only living person that loves me unconditionally. I think I look like such a failure in his eyes. I hate that.
I'm worried because I don't want to cut myself. That sounds weird, but I know how wonderful it feels, and yet I haven't picked up my blades in months. I used to do it at least once a month. I haven't done anything since early January. That scares me. I know I'm in pain, but I don't want to help it. I think it's because I don't understand the pain yet, and so I don't want to do anything just yet.
I'm a waiter. I always wait for something to happen before I make a move. I've been waiting since July when she told me she didn't love me, and nothing has happened. Sometimes she flirts with me, and I think she still loves me, but then she never talks to me. We haven't had a serious conversation since she told me she didn't love me. More than 8 months ago. Our relationship has never been this bad. And I don't think she even sees it.
My elbow hurts. It's funny how I can complain about that, and yet I purposefully cut myself at times to heal the emotional pain. Self-mutilation is the only kind of pain that works. IT's done with a purpose.
I don't even understand what I'm saying anymore, and if your'e still reading this, you're only reading because you're trying to understand. Even I don't understand. I'm bitter with the person I love. I don't care anymore. If I never end up with her, so be it.
But I can't be alone.
I'm dying for someone to love me. I think I really need it. But the only person at this point who's really capable of loving me has already told me she doesn't. There's no one else close enough to me that could love me, with the exception of a few friends who don't swing that way.
What am I going to do? I sat down a few minutes ago and asked myself, if I could do anything in the world right now, what would I do. I couldn't think of a single answer.
I was so happy last night, and now I'm dying. I feel like I'm in a cage or something. I'm so lost. I think I need to seriously start writing something, so I can get rid of some of this intensity. I can barely read the screen anymore, my eyes are so blurred with tears.
The girl I love might move. Her parents want to go to Kansas City so her dad can get a job. My dad's been out of a job for twice as long as her dad, we're a poorer family, and we haven't moved yet. We're both 17, less than a year away from being adults, and they want to move now. Of all times. She might get to live with me, though, if they do. But she still can't go to Tarleton college with me if they do. So I'll go with her to college in Kansas City. Maybe. I want to share a dorm room with her. It's been our dream since we got into high school. Before I fell in love with her. I don't know what would happen if she moved in with me, or if we shared a dorm room, but I'm certain it couldn't be bad.
But then again, she might find my blades. What if I'm still cutting by then. I told her once that I cut myself, after the very first time. She told me if I ever wanted to do it again, to call her, even if it was the middle of the night. I've done it again many times. I've never called her.
What if she found them? What if she found a lot of things. My room is a sacred sanctuary. It wouldn't be as personal if she lived with me. She wouldn't be in the same room as me, but we'd probably hang out together all the time. But what if we got sick of each other? The gap between us is already painful enough. I don't know that I can handle anything greater.
When adults talk about their old friends, it's always their old friends from college. What about their friends from high school? What's going to happen to me and her if we have to go to different colleges? I hate those thoughts.
I'm sorry if you're still reading this. It's a ton of thoughts that I have to put somewhere. I don't keep a diary or journal or anything. I should. It might help.
I took a drug test the other day. No, not that kind. It's one of those "if I were a type of ___, what would I be" tests. I'm heroin. I wonder if that means I'm immune to it. I'd love to find out. Of course, if heroin is like me, I pity anyone who's addicted to it.
I created this really cool character today. She's a lion. I'm into lions right now. Oddly colored lions. She's got a cool pattern though. Maybe I can get some praise for her down at this archive I just joined. Soon as I can scan her. Her name is R'ied. Her name and coat pattern came from a can of Big Red I was drinking when I drew her. I like it.
I should get writing. I've got some nice ideas, and I still have to edit the novel I wrote in freshman year. It's awful though. I don't want to edit it. I'm lazy. Editing means rewriting because it's so bad. I can't believe my writing skills sucked so much back then. Of course, they still do suck.
I still have to work on my conspiracy story. The one with Vincent and Sylver. I liked where that one was going, and I love the name Vincent. I want a husband named that. Or a son. I want a son named Vincent with jet black hair and I want him to be in a band with some of his friends. That would be awesome.
I've also got that mystery story in the works. The murder one. And of course, I have to write Rym's story. Rym is my muse now. He's my favorite character. He's a mercinary. He's in something like a cross between current day and Gundam Wing times. Something are more technological, but it's still pretty basic. It's how I see the world in ten or twenty years. Everything in his world is on the internet. TVs are built into the wall. Phones are absolete.
I'm feeling a bit better now, thinking of my stories. But when I realize that I have no motivation to write them, I feel crappy again. My elbow still hurts. And the inside of my other elbow is still bruised from when they took blood last friday. My back kills too. Damn stairs.
I don't care anymore. I don't care about life. What do I have to loose? I don't care what anyone thinks about me, and I don't care if I loose my friends. I've fallen back into my loner state. Well, at least I know I'll always have one friend. She told me that when someone becomes her friend, they're her friend forever. And I doubt that the girl I love would stop being my friend. We'd just be friends who never talk and who don't know each other anymore.
No one knows me. I realize that now. When I first meet people I act differently, and then when they become my friend, that's how they see me. I can never be myself. 'I'm changing, think it's funny how no one knows.' But I don't care. I just want to feel comfortable with myself. I haven't felt that way in a long time.
My tears are dry now. I don't know when they stopped. My face is all thight now, though, from the salt. I'm glad my family isn't here. I'm glad I'm alone.
I saw this guy that I've adored for three years the other day. He was skating along the sidewalk when I drove past. My heart tighetend up and I almost began crying. It's so weird that a guy who I haven't talked to in forever, who I almost dated, who I don't think would even recognize me anymore can evoke such feelings in me even after three years, and the girl I love can't even make me cry anymore. She can only make me wishful. The only problem with the guy, besides the fact that we havn't talked for three years and the last time we did was when I bungled up asking him out, is that he does drugs. I told myself long ago I'd never go out with a guy who did drugs. But I'm changed. Not to mention I've heard rumors that it's just all talk. I wish me and him had some contact, a class together or something, so I'd have an excuse to say something to him. I miss flirting with him. He's a real jerk of a person, but he was always nice to me. I wish I hadn't been so naive and frightened back in middle school. Who knows, we could be coming up to our third year anniversary if I hadn't. Ouch.
I should probably stop writing, but it's a healing process for me. The best one I've ever found. Normal, though, I write poetry. Poetry that my best friend [aka the girl I love] adores. She says I like to write stuff that most people have felt, but they don't want to remember. I like that. I write about depressing stuff that everyone can relate to, but it hurts to think about. We have this improv night at school called Afterhours. The next one that comes up, I'm going to read her favorite poem of mine. Even though I hate public speaking, esp. when what I'm reading is my own work. But for her, I'd do it five hundred times.
"Humor is like a rubber sword; it makes a point but no one gets hurt." I read that quote today. Forget where. Forget who it was by.
I'm hungry now, and my dad's enigma cd is calling to me. Maybe I'll go play around on Neopets or something. I'm collecting plushies there. I can't seem to tear my fingers away from the keyboard though. I'll be bored if I do. I'll get depressed again if I do. I want something to do.
The tears are coming back. They can't be from boredom though. I don't understand them. Stupid salty drops. I hate crying. It makes me feel weak. Someone save my soul.
Maybe I should... no, scratch that idea. What should I do? Where should I turn? I'm so lost and confused. Maybe this is typical for a teenager. Maybe this is just typical for an insane person. Maybe I should draw some more. Or scan something, since my dad is gone.
This spring break is such a major waste. All my friends are out of town, although that's probably a good thing, so they don't have to see me in such a state or talk to me on the phone when I'm like this.
However, I want a certain friend to get home, and I want her to call her freshman friend Jason. I think I like him, but I need to talk to him some more to find out if I like him or if it's just my natural tendancy to like to flirt with guys. He hasn't been home in a long time though. I haven't talked to him in probably a month. He seems cool, though. He's very sweet and very unperverted. He also likes to make fun of people, though he hasn't said anything bad about me. Actually, all he's done is complimented me in a fashion that insulted my friend. It was great. He's pretty cool.
With that thought in mind, I guess I'll go. If you are still reading this you're probably bored out of your mind. Maybe now you know a bit of how I feel. Maybe I'lk try and talk to the girl I love, since she's on AIM. It's a miracle. She's never on. I don't understand because she says she doesn't get on because she doesn't want to deal with people, but she blocks everyone exzcept for the people on her buddy list, and she can easily block them too. It makes me wonder...
Anyways, I'm out. I feel a bit better, as I usually do after I write something. This isn't my typical writing style of choice, but it helped anyways. I think I'll go put some ice on my back. I think it might be scraped up, or bruised. Maybe I'll go day dream or pray that someone loves me, and we can live happily together. I wouldn't even care if we got in fights or anything. I just really want someone to understand me, and to love me unconditionally for it.
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