smoking too much these days

ive been feeling oddly, intermittently stressed this week. since the weekend, i guess.

started hanging out / talking to X a lot. haven't talked to him for over a year, havent really hung out since freshman year. i had disconnected myself to the point where i just made scathing, offhand comments whenever he came up / whizzed by. it's so weird the capacity for human cruelty once we are able to dissociate ourselves from the object of our contemptuous scrutiny. im ashamed of that part of me. last night he popped a sleeping pill and we were lying in our respective beds, talking for hours. about the difference between our campus/college persona and our selves. he was talking about all these rumours about him, unfounded or uncharitable, spread by people he barely knew. i listened in silence with guilt stewing, as his words recollected all of my own poisonous slips. now i feel like i would never say those things about him no matter what he does, i mean who am i to judge. for some people, its just so hard to even be alive, whatever mask they might have perfected.

i wanted to make him feel better, give any meagre happiness that i could, but i couldn't. it's sort of silly and presumptuous too, this "savior" instinct. its so clichéd, and girly. the desire to respond to need, to want to be the one who makes things okay. i wonder if i would feel that way about anyone, or is it specific to him, because i still have these vague remnants.

then, i talked to Y about this, and life in general, which left me more in equilibrium and raring to start my work. its so ironic how the inert passiveness in Y that frustrated me soo much would be greatly appreciated in X. that's just how things are, i guess. we can't have everything. i can think of many examples of this ...

so just to give an insight of how messed up my subconsciousness is, this is the dream i had last night: It was morning, and X was in the kitchen. He had made crepes with strawberries and chocolates and an omelette for himself, using food that wasn't his, without thinking of offering me any. I was kinda mad, but I didn't know how to tell him. Something happened, i went away for a bit, came back and he had been replaced by JY, who was sitting there with all that food. Suddenly I could unleash my fury, and I did, and he got up immediately and came to me thoroughly repentent and sorry, then he kissed my neck. I felt a yearning awoken.

There you go. My astute dreambeing has it all figured out. Of course, I know the clear answer: it's not X, Y, or JY. It's someone else who hasn't come along yet. Or modified version of F. Actually, I think F is the best fit so far, personality and interests and many many things wise. But, at the same time, obviously disqualified. Y is a close second, except he's so fucking passive. And too short.

This blog entry sadly unravels the pretense that I had tried to weave about this being a "literary" blog. I guess it's just me in the end.