Rambling is what I do best

Hey, you. Please, go on and walk the other way if you’re going to come to me and talk about yourself for hours on end & expect me to listen & comment on each and every single thing, but then when *I* make a comment about my own life or hint that it’s my turn to talk, your attention span magically lessens to the point of disappearance. You lose interest in the conversation. In fact, you go so far as to cut the conversation short! Well, gee, if you’re going to be such an a-hole, then don’t expect anything less from me.

I’ve always given my 110% to everyone–I’ve always been more of a listener than a talker, and to be honest, I don’t expect much from people. I don’t *expect* them to listen to each and every one of my worries & woes, which is why I don’t bother burdening them with so, because I’d rather not make it awkward or annoying for anyone. Most of what I feel remains within, but when I *do* ever decide to open up and unleash the demons that reside within (which is rare, but it does happen here and there), the least I expect is some decency and respect. Hell, even if you’re being FAKE and pretending to show concern, it’s good enough for me because then at least I can know to stop & not proceed any further without it hurting me. However, when you can’t even give your attention to me because you’re so bloody immersed in your own insignificant existence & there’s no room for anything or anyone else, then I’m going to walk away. I don’t care for company like that & make it a point to avoid it at all costs. Anyone that cannot give me the time of the day does not remain in my list-of-people-worth-talking-to.

Now that that’s written, I feel a little better. I’ve had the worst anxiety/depression/paranoia problems lately, and I think this is God’s way of making me compensate for my sins and wrongdoings. A perpetual state of sadness is what I get for every time I wronged something or someone. It’s my firm belief that for whatever I won’t get punished for in the hereafter, I will have to pay in this world in some way or another. It sucks, but it’s life and although at times I want to seriously give up & not try any further, I know that I’ll have to persevere and conquer all the odds.

I’m not liking the semester ending–something about the finality of it all is tearing me up inside. Everyone (or most of the people I knew) is leaving & even M won’t be here next semester. It’s going to seriously be dreadful in the fall, and I’m definitely not looking forward to it.

It’s funny how I’m always waiting for something or another. In high school, I was desperately anxious for college to start. During college, I waited and waited to start “real life” and defeat the world. Now that college is ending, I have yet to get a taste of “real life” because honestly this doesn’t feel like reality and I don’t know when reality will hit. I have a feeling “real life” is going to be a slap in the face when it does come, if it ever comes. Maybe this is real life and I just don’t realize it. I don’t know. Life is just endless waiting & then it’s all over and you’re left knocked off your feet wondering where all that time went. It’s sad, but it’s true and I’m scared of being knocked off my feet after wasting too much time.