Unsettled

So lately, I've felt a great sense of uncertainty. The constant transition I had bitched about for months previous is all coming to a t in the next short few days; I'll be moving out to Santa Monica, to start over. New school, new friends, new surroundings, tabula rasa. Just what I'm used to by now! As excited as I am for a change, I can't help but feel some trepidation, to leave it all behind. Even if it may be undesirable, it's familiar, and that's comforting to some extent. This I share with an abuse victim, hence my motivation for change, despite the uncertainty D:

I've doubted myself more than I generally do. Not necessarily out of insecurity, but it seems as if painful truths are coming to light in greater frequency. After my first gravity bong experience a few nights back with some I'd consider to be former enemies, it became clear that like it or not, the alienation I underwent in middle school through high school ultimately made me less socially inept, so in a fucked up sense, they helped me to actualize myself a bit, even though I'm well aware this was not their intent. To be fair, if I'd known myself, I'd likely have shunned myself as well, I was quite the prick in days of yore.

Now, to the insecurities more relevant to days previous: I constantly debate whether my assumed girl problems are the result of my evident lack of game (which I don't think is the issue) or moreso my hesitation and not wanting to fuck up. Funny how a pair of beautiful blue eyes can completely throw off a generally well-composed young suitor (in my case, perhaps a bit less composed). I lamented to a friend earlier today that it's as if God is playing some sick joke on me; showering me with the grace of ladies far more attractive than I'm accustomed, and watching the resultant trainwreck. Well, maybe not so harsh as to say a trainwreck, but not a gleaming success with flying colors by any means.

I wonder whether my personality is to blame, in a sense, my inability to relate to most. My inability to "bullshit," as she put last night. Funny how I can endlessly extrapolate upon the most miniscule detail, and yet when it comes to self-produced thought, especially in regards to (somewhat formal) introductions, I seize up as if in a catatonic trance.

On a side note, how cruel a celestial joke as to make myself appear the most eloquent motherfuck to walk the earth in my existential ramblings, yet in reality, come off as an awkward, stuttering mess of curly mexi-hair and pubic chinstrap fringe.

A cannabis-induced epiphany of sorts occurred the other night in which I decided I need a new outlook, a new PEET, and ceremonious as I am, I intend to cut my hair short and shave, which I've not done for likely a year. This is somewhat reminiscent of the Royal Tenenbaums, except I don't intend to kill myself afterward. I seek to lift the veil of my insecurities with this move, and cast it to the past, where it belongs.

On a final ending note, to paraphrase the Royal Tenenbaums again, these last few weeks' freedom have given me the opportunity to realize, and, more importantly, cherish the friendships I hold, so that being said, these last two weeks have been among the greatest of my life. Despite the supposed raincloud of romantic despair floating overhead, I remain optimistic as ever, if not a bit daunted.

I wonder how often I misuse "big words" by misreading their context and not knowing the actual definition. Hm.

Redlands and Riverside, I'll miss you.