I don’t know.

And I know even less how to get out of this state of unknowing, or how I got there in the first place.
Everything that I seem to write, or say begins with this line: “I don’t know”.
I don’t know why. Oh here we go again.

And I’ve erased every other blog I have. – I have multiple, that’s how indecisive I am. For a period I thought I was bisexual, and frankly people still believe that and I don’t plan to correct them just yet.
I’ve decided to leave this one alone, not because I somehow prefer Livejournal- not at all, it sucks majorly, but this one is somehow private. I’ve managed to evade (with no fault of my own) any readers at all. I’m actually amused at the thought that my random blog was randomly overlooked by everyone who stumbled in.
It’s fine by me. This is (finally) just for me.
And for some reason thoughts flow naturally when I type.
Odd.

I’ve put my talents on hold. It’s like I’ve died and haven’t realized it yet. Everything I try to do/start is paralyzed by fear, and I can’t get over it- I’m too weak.
There’s just nothing or no one to keep me going.
I don’t even have myself to push me over obstacles, so I just stop and don’t progress.
I somehow keep on hoping that someone stumbles into my life by mistake and saves me from all of this.
I don’t think I’ll survive ‘till that day. The little voice of logic in my head patters with every day, it says that I can’t keep on waiting for someone to make my life better, I have to do it myself, it’s my life after all.
And someone told me today that it’s my choice to go out or stay in on Friday and I got angered by the notion that it might be my own fault for being so lonely.
Nothing gets through to me. I’m so frustrating. I know all this and I rationalize it just fine, I just… don’t seem to care whether I progress or…dry out in the same spot.

My insecurity. It’s one of my biggest problems. My tragic flaw or at least the base of all other flaws I have. I (haha) posted my picture on this stupid rating website and was rated 4. Lol. And I thought that 8.5 out of 10 was an awful tragedy. Even writing this now is somehow embarrassing because I don’t want people to think I’m some hideous freak that could get only 4 out of 10 on an appearance based rating site. I can’t seem to get it through to me that beauty is subjective and superficial and so insignificant!
But I’ve always had this obsession with being perfect and beautiful…
And many people tell me I am, and sometimes I even see it myself, for a brief moment.
But this doesn’t go away. Maybe I’m not past puberty at 18, after all.
What shocked me the most was how these nothing, middle aged, balding guys got mid 8s and beautiful women got 6s for not being half naked and smiling a goofy, willing smile. What comforted me the most was that a small percentage of people gave me a 10! For someone out there I am the perfect definition of beauty! I got 9s, 8s, 7s, 6s, everything. Even 1s…- thanks. I got 6s and 1s the most.
Maybe my big green eyes and timid smile didn’t seem HOT to most. Maybe they just thought I should be competing for the “Cute” title on some other website. Maybe some were annoyed you couldn’t see my cleavage in the picture, just my face. I honestly can’t stand the thought of people thinking I’m hideous…

I should let this go. My insecurities get the best of me. I get upset if someone makes snide remarks concerning my intelligence at a chat. People I’ve never met and never will, people who don’t know me, whose opinion doesn’t matter. And somehow this affects me as well. And I can’t help it.

For the longest time I felt that only losers fall in love with me.
But who the hell am I to decide who’s a loser and who isn’t?
Someone has written poems about me, I’ve been approached and given a love confession in a sealed letter. I’ve felt stared at and let myself drift away in day dreaming about being desired. How many girls can say that about their lives?
What really bothered me about all this was the guys who claimed to love me never really knew me, or so I have felt.
No, I’m sure of it. It’s for me to decide who knows me and who doesn’t.
They fell for my girl-next-door look, presuming I’m innocent and quiet and nice in every possible way. And that angered me because I am anything but nice.
It’s funny how one of those has so easily “gotten over me” when he got to know the bitchy, sarcastic, perverted me.
That’s what he said at least.
We stopped talking, for some reason.

It happens quite often. Most relationships I have with people just cease.
I never realized that it might be my fault. But perhaps I never felt any of these relationships were worth the trouble. In these lonely two years I haven’t found anyone who I felt understood me, or cared.

I feel like I want too much. I’m too demanding. And nothing comes easy, not to me.
I never wanna compromise. I never wanna fuck someone I don’t absolutely adore, I’ve already had my first kiss with someone I didn’t like or even known because I felt it was time. And I felt dirty after…
I don’t wanna compromise.
But what if that means I’ll forever stay alone?