chuma.org

Well, it’s less than an hour until my final exam and the end of the whole bloody semester. It’s been a big fucking mixed bag for the past four months, that’s for sure. I really need to have a huge big rant soon.

Back when I was still BBSing (yes, children, before the Internet) I used to be in a message group on CANet called Teen Chat. At the time I was around 12, so wasn’t really a teen, but I really enjoyed talking to people there. One thing that everyone did was post big long rants. Pretty much any message over ~150 lines was considered a rant. Everyone read everything and offered advice, or just kind words. It wasn’t even necessary to get replies to your rant; you knew that it was getting read by hundreds (maybe thousands) of people, and that they cared a little bit.

Maybe that’s what I wish my web page was like. I get hits from some pretty diverse groups here: my friends who read regularly or semi-regularly, people who pick up the URL from my signature in an e-mail on a mailing list archive or deja.com, people looking for Newton Resources, wayward search engine results, my parents who know that this exists and read every now and then (hi Mom! hi Dad!)

I really don’t care who reads this stuff. I’ve never been attacked for anything I’ve written here. Most of it is just my own personal ranting – rants like I used to write on CANet Teen Chat. It’s therapy. It’s out there for anyone who wants to to read, or not read, as they choose.

Anyways, I’m pretty sure now that this semester mostly sucked. I feel like academically I’m up against a wall. Socially things are just changing – in the last month I’ve been spending more time with Sandy at the house and less time with my other friends. For reasons beyond my comprehension I still feel pressured by my parents; even though I know that they love me the most, and will always love me the most, I have this unshakeable fear of them. It’s a curse. A curse that I can’t seem to get rid of. It’s fucking pulling me down, I think. I’m trying to get away from them but keep on fucking things up and I could get help but instead I just lie, lie, lie, lie until I start believing the lies myself. I’ve gotten really really good at lying to people and to myself.

For some cosmically bizzare reason I don’t lie to Sandy. We are connected, somehow, so that I am totally open to her. And I think she is totally open to me. It’s always hard to tell with another person unless you can crawl inside them and look through their eyes; but that’s pretty hard to do, believe me I’ve tried. But she is the best thing to happen to me this semester, this year, maybe even in my life.