People don’t like me. They tell me what irks them. I change the habit, but people still don’t like me. They don’t listen and they don’t care. Last night over dinner, some girl at the next table returned from exchange and she was telling her family about her experiences and them asking her about what happened. No one ever does that for me. No one in my family does that. In my family, I tell a story and I get drowned out by another conversation in 15 minutes. I tell my boyfriend a story and he drowns me out with eiher rationality or his work/story. I had lunch with C today, and I told her about some issues I faced at work, and in response, I got a blank face. Some day, some day when i make enough money and i decide that that’s all the hurt I can take, I’m going to travel the world and meet new people and if that doesn’t work out, I’ll throw myself over the edge and into the sea in a foreign land. The immigrations officer will only know that he has an alien running around the country, not knowing that my body would have disintegrated into nothingness, fed to the fishes of the sea.
The lackthereof excitement/attention/interaction in my life of late has made me weird. Like obsessive-complusive-i-live-in-a-fantasy-world-kind-of-obsessive. I have had clandestine thoughts about a certain fantasy someone of late. Growing interest, jealous moments and wild dancing amongst the other varied things that have been going through my head. Seriously, I am freaking nuts and I need to get it out of my head because I have trouble focusing at work. Fantasies are not called fantasies for no reason. Fantasies are meant to remain as such. Then why is it that I keep thinking about it, and dreaming up disturbing and improbable situations for myself?!?!??! I’m in such a weird place now. Help.