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Ah, Saturday.

Late Friday night I had been out with my bud Christ; it had been at least a month since I've come over to see him because we're both caught in this same boring town and can't seem to find much to do. So our conversations go along the lines of "Hi." "Hey." "What's fresh?" "Not much, same old, you know?" "Yeah..." And that's that. We went out that night to the mall with mutual friend Emily and Chris's "somewhat former girlfriend" (I'm reallly not sure how to describe her, nor how to describe the status of the relationship between them) Well anyway, all I mean to say is that it felt nice to get out of the house for once, share a few laughs, and to stay up into the wee hours of the night.

One way or another I ended up gaining two or three hours of sleep last night, finally dragging myself out of bed after my mother (supposedly) woke me several times previously. You see, I have a Saturday English class that begins at eight AM. That is, the English class is on Saturday, not that I have a class about the type of English exclusive to that day of the week.

Every once in a while one gets in the sort of mood where he or she wishes to do absolutely nothing with himself, make no effort, and just generally laze around for a day. Today was one such day. I couldn't deal with flat out telling my mum "No, I'm not going to class", so I made like I intended to go...Note that by the time I finally woke up, I only had 20 minutes to get to the campus. No time for a shower, and I absolutely depend on showers to start off the day, otherwise I'll be a groggy mess for hours. Or even the whole day, if I allow it to affect me mood enough.

I got in the truck and drove off, but instead of going north towards the college, I went south for a short while, and then travelled county road 632 for a good 40-50 miles to the east. Travelling east would be further and further away from civilization, most development to speak of is near the coast. I went on for miles and miles, following an endless stretch of massive power poles well out into the horizon. Oddly enough, there was a horizon to speak of, because one of Florida's major exports is phosphates, and if you've ever seen a phosphate mine, there are hills of processed earth, mountains even, that stretch for miles, ground that man has been picking clean for decades.

I was not feeling terribly well at all. You can already imagine what it's like to be rudely awoken after a minimum amount of sleep, and right away I was forcing myself to concentrate on the road. I did not feel safe with myself the least bit this morning, cruising along. Very hungry. Eyes very much scrunched and mucousy. Tasting my unclean breath and feeling altogether dirty from having not showered. Oh and shivering, oh I was so cold, the heater in the truck didn't start working to the potential demanded for a good forty minutes. I suffered without it until then, wiggling anyway I could in a vain effort to produce some extraneous body heat, although my body was much too tired and undernourished to want to cooperate with itself.

Hills in Florida. Maybe made of phosphate, but they were hills nonetheless and allowed a breathtaking (as breathtaking as possible for feeling so ugh and given the nature of the scene I beheld) view of the town of Bartow, small town in the countryside nestled by a small river (I wonder which?) with it's factories and...yadda yadda. Attempting to describe the details would be fruitless, given my state of mind and poor memory, yet I did feel at peace, driving totally alone, not another vehicle on the road, twist and turns, forests and swamps, houses and lack of houses. It was just one of the those moments where you feel a certain something about life, a certain understand or acceptance..."This is it bub! Make the most of what you have, 'cause what you have ain't much, your friends will try to steal it, and you'll die before you accomplish a tenth of the things you hoped to!"

Yeah.

I did a small amount of housework chores today when I arrived home, as is the custom for weekends here, and mostly I lazed around just as I figured I would. I killed a lot of time playing an online multiplayer rpg of sorts, actually the past two weeks I've placed an unhealthy amount of time into the game, addictive as it is, and I can see the results: hunger from skipping lunch a few times, a few pimples on my nose for not moving around enough. It's nothing to complain over, but my body's telling me that I ought not to spend so much time up front of a monitor. Fair enough, I do what I can. After all, the other week I went to many parks, stayed outdoors for many hours, and hardly came online but to shout hallos to friends who are dear enough to wonder about me. Oh, I should doubt anyone cares, but for the curious the game is called Ragnarok Online, Miz introduced me to it. I've had great fun and admittedly like trying to steal attention away from Mio. A big raspberry to her if she reads this, ha.

Not two hours ago I had a late dinner, simply meat loaf of sorts and a baked potato covered with nothing but butter. I complained about the meatloaf, I'm very apt to complaining about foods these days, and would rather make my own food than nitpick over tastes of my mother's cooking that I've grown tired of. I know, I'm a terrible son. Grateful, yes, I make it sound worse than it really is. The situation I mean. I don't remember where I was going with this. Well I do love food. After eating I went to log into RO (said online game) and discovered that my trial account is finally used up, so now I'll actually be forced to find other things to do with my time until I can get over to the bank and deposit all these nickels into my checking account. Hopefully I can take care of that Monday. Addicted, addicted.

My mood today has not been the best. Sour pickle if you will. I'd like to blame it on the conditions I woke up to this morning, and while they undoubtedly play a role, I don't accept that fact and somehow ascribe my unpleasantness to a flawed personal character. I think of all kinds of faults I have, real or imagined, and starting making up thoughts in my head about what an inadequate person I am, what good of a boyfriend am I going to be, what good of a worker, what good of a believer in what I hope to accomplish, and it all turns up with me thinking that I'm no good at all. That I'm plain. Not plain as in ordinary, but plain as in boring. (I dismissed all these thoughts as nonsense rubbish that gets in the brain from time to time, with exception of this ordinarity I am discussing)

These thoughts about being a boring individual creep in after 1) Talking to people I admire, who I see as deserving a friend far more...less prone to thinking the thoughts that I do, and being as "boring" as I find myself; and, 2) After instances of last night, being with Chris and the two girls, I followed behind the three of them the whole time, talked infrequently, and didn't express any of my crazy fun energies.

It's been so many hours since I was thinking these thoughts that they've long since been sorted out in my mind. For example, with the mall experience I blame my feelings on my shyness, being around people I was not familiar with and being expected to act just as I always do; and also I blame it on my...social...um...dysfunctionality. I do tend to avoid social situations unless they are strictly with friends, and I know throughout those formative years of school, my self-isolation from my peers has caused me to be somewhat lacking in socail experience between groups of people. Not that you would notice, I'm not that bad, but I feel as though I don't associate with groups of bodies as well as most other people seem to.

So, I find logical and acceptable explanations for my feelings, I disprove my fears (if you'd call them that) and I end up...here. Now. And I realize any one of my friends would tell me that I am interesting, and not just a lame (gosh I still can't think of the word, a person who's about what you'd call the opposite of a socialite) with nothing better to do than spoil everyone's fun by not being as cheerfully bouncy as everyone else. And my friends would not say this to be nice, they would say it because it is indeed truth. So...what else?

Oh, Christmas. Something else that has been on my mind is the fact that many individuals now know where I live and have sent/are sending holiday cards and what have you to me as gifts. What's wrong with this you say? Well really nothing at all, I do appreciate and enjoy such thankfulness, yet...I am broke. Again without cash, so...so far I have nothing prepared to send out to any of my friends, and this wrenches my heart so. I feel as though I am wronging every last one of them by not showing them my appreciation for them, by not sending something to let thek know a thing or two of what they mean to me. I do very much enjoy giving to people, I spend more money on my friends than I do on myself, because to me, people are important to hold onto and cherish. And I feel soooo good to let someone know, to do something for someone, because that is how I am. My happiness comes in pleasing others, and I feel terrible about not doing anything, especially now that it is Christmastime, quite the appropriate time to be engaged in such activities. What to do? Send things late? That's not right at all. Borrow money? Not from my parents, not from my friends who are strapped for cash as it is, yet I could get some small amount from my brother (far better than nothing) and all these coins I rolled today for the bank, well, that should be enough money to send at least a card and or letter to all of my friends in the States. I will delay getting to play that wonderfully addictive game for a month or six weeks or however long just to do for others what I mean to.

Musings...I have no musings, I have laundry to sort and I have grown tired of typing for now. All in all, the day has been pretty neutral, I am not feeing any bit depressed, but a certain euphoria I used to carry about me doesn't seem to exist anymore. My friends say I'm still the same old Dave, but I don't feel quite so alive anymore. I feel as though I've been rude to people, I feel as though I've been a bore, I feel as though...There was something I had that made me happy, that made me so wonderful and driven, that isn't there anymore. Maybe not outwardly noticeable, but I don't feel like the fiure's going anymore. Is it because I need change? Is it because I allow silly things to bother me? Is it because I fear that the things I desire will fail me?

I hope I've been confusing, because I am confused. See,s like I'm never able to sort it all out in my mind (this is where people say I think too much and overanalyze everything; yet, sometimes I think that's just an excuse for covering up something that could be more properly mended) and every night and every day I have the same jumble of thoughts flying this way and that way through my head, and every daily complication just makes things harder to understand. Ramble.

I'm hungry.

Hmm, haven't listened to any music today either. It's been so long since I've danced. =\

Edit: *makes face* I am so long-winded, and I don't think I made much of anything readable there. This is what I need and like to do, but if this is not board appropriate, I will finally write in my own blog and reflect upon it whenever, and share the link with whoever's bored enough to peer into my mind, heh.