6/22/99 - "I am a stranger, alone and afraid in a world I never made". -- an existentialist writer whose name I can't remember, but whose quote I used in my high school yearbook.

Medication can't cure my loneliness; that's what I realized last nite.  Ray and I went by Paul's to pick up the bong they borrowed on Saturday night, then on the way home we stopped by Carl's Jr. so I could get some dinner.  On the way back home, Ray was really very quiet, and my attempts to inspire conversation were pretty fucking futile.  The book I'm reading, East to America, got me thinking about Korean American issues that kids face growing up, so I asked him pretty awkwardly if he had any.  He said no.  He didn't talk to me the rest of the way, and when we got home he still wouldn't talk to me beyond a simple response to a question.  Then he went out and I finished up my dinner (including the wedge cut fries I secretly bought for him) and went to sleep.  It was a pretty boring night, beyond watching a ghetto bird searching for someone near Paul's house.

So, uh, what does this have to do with loneliness?  Somehow my warped mind got me to thinking about how lonely I was -- Ray was gone, his mom was out at church, and so I was all alone.  I imagined other people I know hanging out together on a Monday night, or with their boyfriends or whatever, and I just felt so alone.  Ray's silence towards me really freaked me out, and I was wondering if I said or did anything wrong to piss him off.  I realized how scared I am of losing the friends that I want to keep, and how I might push them away unintentionally by being such an uninteresting do-nothing loser.  That would naturally lead to my fear of being alone my whole life, which isn't so much a fear as it is an unrealized expectation.

I know, the answer to all of this is to love myself and not be concerned with what other people think of me.  If I can be myself, then other people will like me for who I am and if they don't like it, well then they don't deserve to be my friends anyway.  <-- I think I just summarized the dogma my high school English teacher tried to install into all of her students.  Anyhow, yeah, I should love myself.  Somehow, loving myself seems as easy a feat for me to achieve as obtaining a Ph.D. in Microvirology from MIT, but at least I know what I should do. 

Speaking of far-fetched analogies, whenever I make a wish on anything, be it a coin in a fountain or a lucky cigarette, I always wish, basically, for the same thing - to get some, and to get some from some I care about.  I also realized last nite that I treat wishes like fantasies that won't come true.  I might as well wish to be 7'4 by then end of summer and get a try-out with the Rockets.

Yet another realization while I was lying in bed last nite (all this self-realization makes me feel like a moody, nocturnal Buddha): I concentrate on my food way too much when I eat.  I usually eat alone, especially lunch.  I like to eat by myself, and it's easiest that way - no fuss, no plans, none of that shit.  But when I eat, I'm totally into my food, and I don't look around at other people too much, unless I catch a glimpse of a hottie.  Maybe I'm nervous about people seeing me eat alone and wondering why I'm such a loser.  Or maybe I'm afraid b/c they'll see me and notice the huge Red Rooster Sauce stain on my tie.  Whatever, further evidence that I am a dork. 


 
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