Eight Hours & I'm A Thirty-Year-Old Woman

Wrapping up what I was talking about the last time I wrote here, absolutely nothing happened with that girl I wrote about. Which is perfectly fine. About a week later I slept with a girl in my sound design class. It was surprising and it was a lot of fun. I came in late for class, as per always, and she mimed towards me that she wanted to talk to me after class, which was confusing. In the back of my mind I was hoping that she was going to profess her feelings for me, because I knew that she liked me at least a little because every girl who likes me is surprisingly obvious about it or maybe I'm better at figuring it out than I give myself credit for. Anyway, she kept talking about irrelevant things so I kept telling her to get on with it and that she might as well just say what she has to say. She eventually tells me that she has been harboring anger towards me because during class I laughed at her and said that she is not the same person she was at the beginning of the semester. She had apparently been through a lot in her personal and social life so me saying that really cut her deeply. I didn't have a clue that she would take it that seriously because I had never spoken to her outside of class and I didn't really know anything about her. I said that because at the beginning of the semester she always had plenty of questions and the first day of class she asked five questions about the syllabus and eventually she stopped showing up and rarely did the homework and watching the digression was entertaining. Cut to her telling me a minute later that she couldn't help but not want to be angry because she knew that she barely knew me and that she was "weirdly attracted to" me. I told her that I was obviously attracted to her as well. We talk for a while. I walk her to her statistics tutoring session, or whatever it was that she was doing, she flirted with me and I went to lunch. Flash forward eight hours and its 10:00pm the same day. She texts me and asks me if she can come over. I'm baffled by this. I ask if everything is okay and I say of course, whatever she needs and what are friends for, etc. She comes over. She massages my back. She kisses my shoulder. We have sex. It was a weird day. I haven't spoken to her in weeks. I would feel bad, but there is no way that could have gone anywhere.
Let's move on to the next girl because holy shit. I've realized a shitty pattern I seem to have with women. It's a beautifully simple thing, but it puts me in a situation where I'm inadvertently taking advantage of these girls for sex and then not treating them very nicely. I'm not abusing them physically or anything, but when I say that I'm not treating them nicely, I meant that I'm essentially not addressing them at all. The problem with the last several girls I've slept with over the past year or so is a combination of our faults, which is fucked up because the thing that they are generally doing is incredible, which is probably why I've so quickly seized the opportunity. I continually have sex with girls after not really knowing them at all. Physical intimacy seems to just happen with me and girls if we're in a room alone together, I don't know how it happens, or what I'm doing or if it is just the way I act, but these things keep happening. After not having sex for two straight years, then hooking up with this girl in March, I've had so much sex in the past six months with four different girls that its crazy how I feel like I've gotten to the point where I don't even need to pursue it nor do I desire it that badly. I feel like a thirty-year-old woman: I can get laid one week and feel satisfied for like a fortnight. The only problem with this is I can't help but feel like I'm taking advantage of these girls only when I have the desire to get laid and then I'm not really talking to them in the interim. It's not like they come over, we fuck, then I tell them to leave, but it sort of feels like that is what I'm doing. I don't think that is the greatest thing to do. I might keep doing it anyway...So here is the situation I'm currently in. I've met another girl. She's a natural redhead. I'm just gonna say that first. It needs to be said. I've wanted to be with a natural redhead since I was a lot younger. The thought sends shivers down my spine. I think the only way I'll be able to have a functioning relationship with this girl, sexual, or otherwise, is if I don't sleep with her immediately. I still don't know if she is interested in me as a guy, or if she is just interested in me as a person to be friends with. I'm trying to play it safe, but I've found myself falling into my own trap: I get way too excited about the prospect of there being another girl in my life so I seem really eager to hangout and get to know her and that surely makes me seem sort of obnoxious. I really want this girl to be a part of my life, but my excitement gets in the way of acting normal.
Basically what this comes down to is that cell phones make communication bullshit. Avoiding the reality of how conversation should operate is far too easy.
I'm gonna end this ramble of a post now.

Inadvertent Instigators & Maybe I'm A Turtle

I haven't written in a very long time. I would do a large rambling wrap-up of things that have happened between now and when I wrote on here last, but I rarely even remember what I was thinking about yesterday when I try to actively recall it, so that would be pointless. Thinking always happens best when it's accidental. Thoughts. Thinking. Think. Here's what I think: When I - or anyone, really, but this blog is like a sanctuary for me so I'll be ironically ego-centric in this sentence - speak passionately, emphatically, in a particularly gesticulatory manner (wild words, bitches) about something, it seems inappropriate for the conversation to briskly move on to something else. If someone is speaking almost with no pauses about something they are clearly passionate about, that conversation should clearly be acknowledged. That person doesn't want to be ignored nor do they desire the opportunity to calm down so that you can talk about something else. Clearly what they are talking about was either prompted by something you said, something you're involved or somewhat participating in, or you are someone this person generally wants something of a response from. A vacuous reaction and sense of being essentially ignored makes all of the responders instigators of that individual's passions turning inflammatory. Ask people questions and entertain ideas, its how you should want to behave, otherwise why have friends or interact with anyone?

Something else. I've recently found a new, different girl to satisfy my interminable, oh-she-seems-interesting quota. I'm yet to completely figure out what this girl's deal actually is and I've heard plenty from plenty, but and honest outsiders perspective and pursuit could be just the satisfaction I'm looking for right now. She's all flirty and sexual and beautiful and clearly damaged and people think she is mean and ethnically ambiguous and friendly and there is a slight possibility that she is interested in me. I'm gonna see how slyly I can sneak my way into her mind at least enough to perpetuate the possibility of being interested in me. My ultimately selfish goal would be to enjoy a sexual experience with this girl, but if she let's me in (I mean personally and mentally, but, still: ay-oh) that would be more than fine. She seems like she needs more people in her life that don't purely see her as a sexual object. Let me qualify that: I would absolutely love to explore her body and give her something she may not have experienced before, but I don't just want to get with her and then throw her on the curbside for the day-laborers to collect her for disposal, I want her to want to be around me and submit to a conversation with me outside of pleasantries. I've never seen myself as the kind of guy who walks into a room and girls automatically want to jump my bones. Like many other guys, it takes girls awhile to realize that I could be good for them or that I'm perhaps more attractively than they immediately thought. Maybe I'm foxy. Maybe I'm a dog. Maybe I'm a turtle. I have no honest idea of what any girl really thinks about anything I do, nor have I ever so the struggle continues, but using my apparent indifference and mystique and occasionally coy attitude around women has been wildly successful in the past, so I'm gonna see how far and convoluted I can get with this girl, regardless of which path it goes down. So long as it isn't the road that loops back around to the starting point. Counter-production isn't often what happens, but the possibility still exists. I'll try to let you know what happens in reality. It's been nice talking to you, Me.

I'm Trying, Ringo

I haven't written on here in ages and I've recently been struck with an idea I think is absolutely worth writing about. I was originally prompted to write about the reason I wanted to start writing again: this reason being a lovely girl. One who I'm very curious to start something of a relationship with. Things will go how they'll go. I'd rather not dwell on them too much now, as there is plenty of time for that when there is something to actually be done. I'm nervous. I'm excited. This is irrelevant to what I'm writing about here, now. I'm prompted because when I realized the subject several hours earlier, she is the first person I wanted to talk to about it, almost habitually. I realized and considered the subject and my first thought was that she is the person I want to consider this with.

I'm dwelling and being self-indulgent. Ha! It's a fucking blog. What do you want from me? Let me explain nonetheless: technology is terrifying to me. Its beneficial in all its ways, but I dare you to have a conversation with someone and not look at your fucking cell phone at least once. Over the past several years I've told my parents that I don't want an iPhone because I didn't think I could handle the distraction, I really didn't think it was necessary, I didn't want to participate with everything else my generation was fixating on, and honestly, my game plan was to just get a smart phone when that's just what phones were. As you well know, I'm a fucking hypocrite. I currently now own an iPhone and I hate myself already. I still like myself better than most because I haven't become them, though, but I'm now more terrified of my future than I ever was, and as you know, my future from my perspective always looked a bit bleak. I have two examples of why I'm most scared, both of which happened earlier today. All of which happen every fucking day, but as you read, you'll recognize why I'm right. Every other example happens during every part of your day. Look around. Your life is terrifying. If you don't spend some time in silence, or your non-technological version of that, you don't appreciate life the way you probably should. If rain and wilderness, etc terrifies you, maybe you shouldn't still be allowed to appreciate the things in life that the rest of us do. Anyway. I'm in Auckland, NZ for a few weeks. Me and my dad met my brother and his special lady friend at a $4 pizza place ((which, given the fact that a single serving pizza would normally cost around $13 here, is fucking unprecedented, this was awesome (yes I realize what unprecedented means, but recognize the situation!; fuck off, self)) and not even ten minutes of us being there, all three of them were sitting there staring at their phones. We weren't talking about anything interesting that they were reading. They were having internal conversations with themselves instead of including the people that were around them. The thing that disappoints me most about this, is that even if they were to include us in what they were reading (my father excluded because more often than not, when he is looking at his phone, he is looking something up for reference) it would be some uncircumstantial meme, some top 13 list, something irrelevant, something fleeting and unnecessary and something which prompts a conversation for about ten seconds. I hate this reality. It hurt me worse when I was sitting here in my brother's apartment here in Auckland a few hours ago. I was sitting where I am now, with my computer sitting next to me, but off and away from distraction, mind you, fucking passive passers by, and he was having a very candid conversation about his career and current job choices and it was beautiful. He was honest. We made endless eye contact because there was nothing else in the world he cared about in that moment. He was purely himself and he was happy. He was unhappy about what his job currently entails and requires of him, but he was talking passionately about what he wants out of his life and out of a job, and that made me really happy. I was happy. He was happy. My father was happy. His girlfriend, however, had that soft, inconsiderate glow of a smart phone staring at her fare the entire conversation. She used it for the first five minutes, admitted to him that he was just reiterating what he was complaining about for weeks about this future job, but she wasn't exactly interested in his actual opinions about his own life. I like to hope that they have had this conversation before. But. I imagine if you're in a committed relationship with someone, that even if you're listening to them reiterate what they've said to you and a dozen others before, you would want to listen to what they have to say, because you might learn something about them, or you might learn about how they deal with repeating themselves, or how passionate they truly are about their own lives. No. She stared at her fucking life-altering cell phone. Her internal world which has everything to do with absolutely nothing. It's the most all-encompassing nothingness that exists. Its fucking terrifying. But you know where I write this from: a blinding computer screen. But. I'm trying. I'm trying, Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd..