Do you.

Do you enjoy this?
I believe you do.

I went to the bar last night with Kamila to see the Speakeasy. I didn't want to be there. I don't want to talk to anyone.

My one friend doesn't appreciate his girlfriend. I want to shake him. He's so lucky to have someone. At the end of your life, none of this will matter but who is with you when you die, well, IF someone is with you when you die. Otherwise you leave alone. You die lonely with no hand to hold as you retreat to wherever we go. I don't believe in God and I have a cross on my chest. I am a walking contradiction.

Everyone I know is telling me to just be alone. Learn about myself. Try telling me that when you're alone. You won't. You'll respond, "yeah this sucks." I wish people would put themselves in my shoes sometimes. I know who I am. My dilemma is finding someone who can deal with who I am, because not a lot of people can. Right? Yeah...

Man, I'm a bitter person right now. This is not me.

I have a Radiohead lyric stuck in my head. "Why so green and lonely?"

I just looked at my coffee mug that my job gave me. It says, "Be green."

Life, you toy with me too much sometimes.

What will I do today? Go home around 5:30pm. Grab a piece of cheese. Go to my living room. Throw my cell phone and lap top in the trash. Wishful thinking. Turn on the TV. Press 52, automatically, since I've been programmed since 12 to turn on MTV, which I don't watch anymore. Anyways, so I'll press 52. Then, without even seeing whats on, I'll change it. Most likely spoiled kids showing their houses off. Then I'l hit 33. Commercial. I'm too impatient to wait. So I'll turn on 34, TBS. Everybody loves Raymond. I'm not feeling funny today. Change. Hit 55. Comedy Central. Commercial about some sort of Restaurant. At this point I just turn back on Everybody Loves Raymond. Fight with my mother. Zone out. Make strange noises at Sadie. Wonder if the car I hear outside belongs to anyone I know. It doesn't. But I get glimmers of hope. Not that I'd want to see anyone anyways. Maybe Clint Eastwood stopping for directions. Imagine?

I just rambled. Because I'm bored. And angry. And upset. And tired. And confused. I would like someone to take over and tell me what to do. I don't know how to fix this. The triangle block is not fitting into the circle hole. And the whole cube is full of circle holes. I'm a fucking triangle in a circle world. When I was little, I never had the patience to figure out where to put in the blocks. So I'd throw the cube around till it cracked in half. I guess i do that in life. I force things instead of just letting them fit.

I don't know what I'm talking about.

I want to make an epiphany in this blog. Ready? No. Nothing.I might go for a walk.

I write in this blog, because I always hope that one day. One day I'll look back at it. And I'll be happy and content. And I'll remember this and smile because I am ok. I wish future Alex would send me a telegram and let me know things will be okay.

I need to get out of here. Out of a state that is full of heartless and cold people that whisper my name under their breaths. Out of a state of people that sucked me up for "fun" and then dropped me when I let my walls down.

I'm trying to think of where my life was last year at this point. I was still heavily upset over Chris. I believe that slut Linnaea called me around this time to tell me she was fucking him. That was lovely. A real treat, let me tell you. I was still friends with Meghan. And Fredi and I were inseparable. We were going to Boston. And had the greatest time. I was so happy just being with the two of them. I didn't need anyone. Did I? I don't know.

And then Halloween came. I was Goldilocks, since I had blonde hair still then. This guy Brian that I met through my friend called me and asked to meet up. It was about 2 am. I was in a slutty Goldilocks costume. Half drunk. Lost in Paterson with no gas. I remember running into a local Dunkin Donuts and crying to the police officer to get me out of here, in which he did. I finally made it to the back of Brian's tattoo parlor. We talked for hours. And clicked.

Man, I've had about 15 repeats of that.

I'm just so great, right?

I'm tired of people telling me I'm so great and an amazing girl. Such bull. Save the fucking pity party for a day when I'm not around.