Sunday, January 29, 2006
Bitch
Time is a bitch. It seems like only yesterday I was moving into Bruce for the first time and had no idea about what was coming. It's hard to believe that since that day I've been through two girlfriends, two hall of the year awards, numerous friends who have come and gone, two other places of residence, I've seen more and done more than I ever thought I would and I'm only 23. Sometimes you stop and think about how much you have changed in the last few years. I would have to say that I have definitely changed since I was 18. I mean, having your heart broken and having your parents divorce will no doubt change a person. Am I better off though, that's the real question. I suppose in some ways I am. I'm wiser with who I give my heart to and more determined to get the hell out of this town. But maybe I am not as good off as I think. I used to be a lot more out going and friendly back then but now I'm more of a shut in. In large groups I don't speak up like I use to and I find it kinda hard to meet new people now days. Of course that may be because everyone around here is 4-5 years younger than I am. Aren't girls suppose to date older guys? It makes it all the more odd to see people hook up in a matter of days of knowing each other and then me having to go home alone. Everyone keeps saying, "just wait she'll come." Well that's great but none of that helps me now. I'm still sitting here by my self. I still go to bed alone night after night with the only person to keep me company being my Winnie the Pooh. *sigh* Bad enough Son is gone, but now everyone seems to be hooking up lately. What a shitty mood I'm in. Time is a bitch.
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Maybe the ladies are jealous. I mean, who can compete with Winnie the Pooh? That's asking a lot, man. Advice is only worth what the hearer puts in it, so rather than offer advice, I just blurt out stuff--although far less obscene than in my younger days. C.Chaplin had gone home to England after living in the States for over six or seven years. He looked forward to seeing one person, his first love. He knew she had married, but he wanted to see her again. On the train into London he met with some old friends, one of whom told Chaplin that his young love had died shortly after WWI of the flu. It broke his heart to say the least. He had less than three minutes to compose himself before the trian arrived to enormus crowds. His butler/body guard asked him, "What do we do, Charlie?" Chaplin looked at him and said, "Smile." That's kind of my motto, ever since I read that occount in his autobiography. "just smile."
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