Just short stories.

I've got a bad habit of doing it. Can't say that I do it on purpose. Can't say that I like it. Can't say I know how NOT to do it, but it's something that family and friends have accused and think of me. I've had a secret admirer and been one myself. Being on either end sucks.

Recently I had a girl email me. She's from Salinas. She's went to school with me before. I gave her one compliment while at work and things have never been the same. Almost 2 years later she still has feeling for me. All this and I don't know what to do. I guess til this point I've done nothing but hurt her and with my luck, it'll continue. But it didn't start there and it won't end there.

Recently I had a girl give me an intense look. Well, she was with her friend and another guy. I'm not one to hit on anyone with others around. I get nervous too! Well, I just left. I look in the reflection of the window to her behind me and she looked devasted, her friend was dumb struck, and homie quiet. I had no idea she had eyes for me. Sad thing is, I haven't seen her at school since when I saw her everyday til then.

Recently I saw spoke with this one girl at the store. I hardly talked to her. I had a class with her. Damn, she kept making hard advances. She kept making herself noticable to me. She smiled and made herself approachable. I did nothing with it. I saw her progression of optimism to impatience. I don't know what it is now, but seems that window is closed. But for me, those windows always are open, just with reluctance and disgust on their part. Whatever the case, I won't lead her on, although it was utter apparent she was in anticipation.

Recently I hurt my first girl-friend. I had no idea what she wanted. I had no idea that it was I she wanted. I had no idea I had a chance with a girl her calibur. I just talked. I just messed around. I just reveled in her company and using her as bragging rights. I gave gifts. I gave precise compliments. I did all that. Still I had no idea that there was something there. I had no idea there was a window. And through all that time she was being lead on.

Recently I lead on one of the two prettiest twins I've seen. I saw their interest early this year. I heard them say "Oh there he is sitting up there." I say her eyes. I saw the look in her eyes. I've seen it before. It's not a good thing for her because I know it'll lead to a dead end. It's not a good thing for me because from then on I'll have to deal with wasted potential, with anticipation left hanging, with mixed messages, to name a few. I saw that, I spoke, I smiled, I laughed and she did likewise. She too made herself noticable to me, but I did nothing. All that time she was being lead on, unbeknowest to me.

Recently. God if I keep on going my stories will rise clear up to the sky. Just take my word for it.

Recently I did away with all potential, opportunity, and entitlement. I'll curb my flirting. I'll seek balance. I'll try to spare yet another heart. Most important, I'll spare my own.

A Self-fulfilling Prophecy

He saw them there. Both of them had a glow about them that he noticed. The rays of both marvel and glamour emited around. Glamour that they worked to project, but have yet to comprehend their profound affects. It is the intrigue and arousal these young women wielded by doing nothing more than being there.

There they were going about their business. They were playing amongst each other. They were captivating him with their laughs. They were stimulating him in ways that he couldn't explain and presenting him with unnamable sensations, and he wanted part of it.

He wanted to love. He wanted to feel. He thought if he knew it was that made them happy, that he'd be able to develope it as well. He wanted attention. He wanted their attention. He wanted to experience all this because all he felt at the moment was unrest and turmoil.

These young ladies were tearing him from within. There they were creating false hopes. They gave him the idea that he could win. They were raising expectations and having them appear attainable. They had made themselves seem approachable although they were far off. By the merits of their beauty alone they did this, and it made him ponder over the occasion.

From his sideline view there was tension. It was a wrestling of his two strongest personalities. It was between the rational side of him and the wishful visionary. They wanted to control the other so as to take control of the situation. These two are at constant tension because they seek to gain for him, while holding differing ideas on how to do so. It is of this make up that can explain why they are always at odds.

The rational side is a jerk and always puts him down. The rational side always scares him before he even gets a step close. The rational side is logical and rational, but lacks imagination and can hardly be coaxed into being daring. The rational side keeps him from danger, chance, but also from pleasure. This is the polar opposite from the wishful visionary.

The wishful visionary is exciting, brash, and presumptuous. The wishful visionary jumps head first and takes no regard to caution. The wishful visionary sees all means as fair exchange for gratification. The wishful visionary is willing to take the good with the bad or the loss with a win, where they rational side is unwilling. From his sideline view he had a inner dialogue.

"Why even bother if they're out of our league? And why even stress if we are like the lint on their sleeve? Is it not him that we will decieve? Why give him hope then promptly bereave? Why see his tears flow while his soul does grieve?" "But why not try and why not believe? Why not pursue that which one can conceive? Who's is to say that we won't achieve? If we don't ask then how will we recieve?"

"They are pretty so let us not forget. If we enter the equation then the balance we'd upset. Who can forsee the disaster that would be subsequent? Let's do this by the books cause in my ways I am set." "What is it you fear or what is it you fret? Why do you stay still when caught in the net? There have been far greater troubles that we have been beset. We've trekked, we've climbed, we've flew for the prize to get. Let us press on, because I refuse to regret."

"And who are you to tell me what to do? You take all the facts and carefully misconstrue. Or carefully persuade when the evidence is skewed. You live with out fear, pain, and other things you can't undo! You live for the now and don't think things through! I'm the one to trust, but I can't say that much for you." "With such lack of confidence, I can tell why you have a negative view. When you're the one running things all of them he fails to woo. You seem to always give up and this you know is true. At least this time let's get up and follow through." But that did not help, and in this way that latter was subdued.

He saw them there talking to someone else while he was talking to himself. He saw them laugh with someone else, while he was agitated. He saw them giggle and play with someone else, while he wore a frown on his heart. He saw them enjoy theirself, their life, and that "someone else," and all he did was stand by himself. All he did was look from the sidelines with a hand full of pain.

He watched in pain. He stood knowing they did not know how he felt - that hurt.

He saw their eyes and could tell they wanted, too. He saw their interest.

He saw their interest wane.

He noticed an opening and did nothing. He failed to sieze the once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity.

He noticed.

He saw them there and he saw them gone.

He saw them leave, and didn't know what to do.

What does it feel like to be alone?

"What does it feel like to be alone? Do you cry like me," she asked. "Do you wish you were someone else, or some place else" she inquired with great intent. She had to think about those questions to herself before she asked them. She wanted them to come out the right way. She pressed forward with her inquiry.

"Why do I need others, but others seem not to need me?" At this point she stood up and looked out the window waiting to hear the answer. She saw a car go by then another. She looked as they passed and saw them shrink into the background. There was a tear but she was quick to regain composure. She wanted answers. She was desperate.

"Why don't I leave? I'm looking right at the door but I feel paralyzed" she says with bewilderment. The young lady finally discontinues this fruitless venture. She's getting no response, and doesn't want to be frustrated. She put on her coat and lie down right there on her couch. She pans across the room before she closes her eyes and notices no one there. A tear, and then she goes to bed.

Great pic. Funny how your eyes can be alluring in other pics yet in this one very tame. Much is implied and much can garnered from just looking at your eyes alone. I see eyes that have seen a lot; what you know is what you've seen, and what you've seen is more than people want to know. I see Alice - a young lady without direction in a world where friends are hard to identify. Much like the Cheshire Cat they fade in and out. I see someone who is smart, intelligent, and expressive, but alas naive to the trials yet to experience, much like Alice. And still, she finds herself falling without control. But nevertheless a pretty young lady eager to learn.

Green stained glass window, roses, snail, church bathroom, grocery store, bushes, dresses, candy in boxes.

I guess I'm just feeling sad right now. I just miss everything, I want to be six years old again. I miss everyone, I miss my brothers and sister and parents the way they were and the way I was. I feel so old. I don't ever want to regret anything, you know what I mean. When I die I don't want anything I wanted to do to be undid but I don't want to die after I do everything. I don't know if I like life, to tell you the truth Everything is going alright and all but Eventually something's got to happen. Who is going to die first, I dont want to bury my parents and I dont want them to bury me. Will we die together, will I fall off a cliff while ryding the only tricycle? Will I jump off? I want to talk to my five year old self. I want to know what she wants, I never asked her when she was me, I just liked washing imaginary dishes in the dark. Now I'm afraid of the dark. Will the tall man from school teach me to tie my shoes again? Will I remember a story from tommorow wrong when I'm 30? When I try to remember things about my life they are all from before I was 11 or so. I guess i didn't feel the need to store things as a teenager, oh well, I'm only sixteen. I need energy, I need sleep, I need water. I miss everyone already, I guess I'm trying to make up for it before It's too late. I want to be grateful for sitting here being able to look over at my sister all the time or be mad at her for no reason, maybe when I'm 80 I'll really want that back. I don't want to be alone when I'm 80. I already feel like I'm 80. I'm so old, I miss being a teenager. I don't ever want to forget what my mother's face feels like, sometimes I sit and touch her face to ensure that I don't forget it. I remember when I was little i would touch my dad's face when he hadn't shaved and it would feel rough, I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. It's strange, I want to go back and apologize to five year old me for not being a better person but I know she wouldn't hold it against me. She would probably just hand me a crayon and invite me to color with her and I would start crying. I would give her a hug and she would feel uncomfortable, like when she gets hugged too tight by her grandma, I know how grandma feels now. I want to give her a hug, I dont ever want to forget her either. I miss everyone so much. People think that I try to be weird, I only tell people I am because I've heard it so many times, I just want to warn them is all. I don't want to become crazy, I'm afraid of it. I think about it at night when I can't sleep, I don't every want to go crazy. I have a hard enough time with anxieties for no reasons and for normal reasons, I don't need extra nonexistant crazy reasons as well, I'd have a heart attack. Life is too short as it is, why would I want to ruin it by being sick, what would I have to gain? I don't want to be sick... anyhow, I think I can sleep now, goodnight. If I stay up any longer I won't get to bed and I'll be depressed tomorrow.


Best introspective I've read. I read it over and over and couldn't help to think it's borderline prose. Great prose at that! Of course the issues are very serious.

Who hasn't felt an ambivalence toward life? Who hasn't indulged in a bit of cynicism from time to time? Who hasn't wished to right the wrongs and still enjoy what parents and others consider wrong? Is there anyone who doesn't want to want, no matter how unreallistic? Who of us want to be left alone and yet still need others around?

Aristotle said that if you didn't need other humans you were either a god or an animal. Humans are social animals dependent on touch and communication. Babies need touch to live, believe it or not. People who live on the streets will bump into others just to get touch. Humans will die of boredom if left alone for a long time. People need others, no matter how hard they try to deny it. Those without either wish for the time when they had both.

Most of us wish for a time when we were innocent. We want to be unjaded it seems. "Ignorance is bliss" - there have never been truer words spoken. When we were younger we never took notice how bad and horrible and cruel the world was, there was no need to. Mom and dad did that for us back then, and we just enjoyed life. All we did was play, or color or laugh. Yet we never took notice of those who cared for us. Life it seems, is not without a sense of irony.

Adults always wish they could "go back." The feeling of overwhelming regret for not feeling or caring or anything toward their loved ones of their youth haunts them. Most could tell you that. If not to share a tear, then gain some sort of resolution. Some don't get that chance. Some live with this branded into their hearts, as disheartening as that is. Saying "cheer up" would be foolish of me. But to say that life is worth living is somewhat apropos.

Life is not without balance. There is equilibrium in all creation. I don't want to sound like a philosohpiser here but it is true. Even the best cynics or most miserable individuals (homie Philith) have to admit. There is always a little good with the bad, the bad seems to be a bit more long-lasting than the good, which I'm sure you noticed. Seems no matter how much we curse life, we want to live it to enjoy what we can find.

"<b>When I die I don't want anything I wanted to do to be undid but I don't want to die after I do everything.</b>" I stand corrected, I just found those "truer" words just now.

A lost art

You know them when you see them and you drool at the very sight. You know how you like them, but you can't figure out why. They are enticing and are the embodiment of the greatest euphoria a man can experience. Silky and smooth the "go all the way up." They cross and curl and bounce up and down. Legs.

Legs are a major food group in a man's lustful diet. Sadly, it is something that we don't get enough of these days. Legs are more than objects to accentuate the rest of the body-- more than the parsley to the dish--they are key components to a woman's beauty and acclaim. Legs are what every man dreams of having.

Men use their eyes to judge what is ideal for them and usually start from the bottom up. Check any man's eyes as a beautiful woman passes and you'll see how they are first fixed far below their boobs. It is because subconsiously they are determining the strength of the prospects genes, which are found in both their legs and booty. These arouse a man greatly. Though it is the face that allures him, and the boobs that stimulate him, it is the legs that arouse him initially. Some dirty and obscene ideas might spring up --which is natural-- in his mind while he examines. In todays climate--especially in this area--they are examined through pants.

Women today are covering their legs up more and more. Women nowadays are more self-conscious then ever before. Beauty in this culture seems to be a premium. However, some just can't measure up to the expectations for some reason or another. Some are not biologically pretty and some not, but both parties know they have to. Which ever the case it seems that they are so self-conscious about their body that they are covering it up, and none more obvious than their legs. In this case legs have been banished and locked away into a dungeon with out the light of day. And for some, they have forgotten what they are supposed to look like. They forgot that some men adore them and it would mean more to have them more than anything less the personality and face. It is sad indeed. Nothing can make this situation worse than the fact that legs are being overlooked in an effort to upgrade other areas of concern.

Legs are being passed off as things to walk on, and not sterling symbols of beauty as they should be considered by women. Women don't take care of their legs as much as they do their face with make-up, their push-up bra for boobs, their perfume to make their inviting aroma, or ill-fitting pants to make firm their booty. Women today seem either to rely on youth or genes for a nice pair of legs but not hard work. The average woman won't hit the gym until she feels their is a great need to do so--if she knows she's getting fat. This is sad because not only are they covering them up, but when they are not uncovered they are hideous to look at because the lack of tone et al. Like an overgrown yard that hasn't been attended in a year, this happens to a woman's body during the time they focus their energies on other areas of their body. But like a front yard attended to every weekend is to be marveled upon, so too a nice pair of active legs.

Legs are a piece of work for a woman. Men usually start from the bottom up, so it would stand to reason to take a concerted effort to shape them to be seen as appealing. But sadly they cover them up most of the time, or feel they need to work for them. Legs can be such a head turner. I know this because I was staring at a girl with some sporty light blue shorts with pink trim and amazing, toned and taned legs. Even the girls had to take notice. She deserved every bit of attention from the guys. Guys wanted her today. Guys want that in their girl. Guys want that period. And really, is there anything wrong with that?

I hurt her today and I could tell.

She is cute in every sense of the word. She was a short Filipina that has a bubbly personality--I like that. She likes to laugh and talk. She has nice shade of skin that was in no need of a tan. Her smile is one of a kind. She's loud but not offensively or annoyingly. I've noticed her a long time ago.

I can remember the first time I saw her and what she was wearing. It was a sunny day this past spring semester and everyone was looking their best. That day I saw many pretty girls, but it was her that stood out. She had a skirt on that caught my eye. She had on flip flops which I believe were white. She had her hair pulled back into a pony tail and her hair bounced up and down. I saw all of this while I was sitting down on a bench in front of the library.

I usually sit down in front of the library and watch people. I study people. I study their behavior. I like to know what it is they are doing and why they do what they do. I notice even the smallest things. I can tell what they are thinking from their face and the sound of their voice to even the way they walk. I've gotten good I guess. One time I noticed her behind me with a few of her friends.

One day while she was near me I could tell she was nervous. I remember her friends heckled her. They said "there he is." She got even more nervous and anxious. I noticed all this while she was behind me and thought to myself that she might just like me--she might have feelings for me. At that point it was a thought, but I believe now that might be a fact.

Today I might have hurt her. I didn't mean to at all. She was walking and I was walking. It was just the two of us. I was nervous and flustered and she looked to be too! I started laughing because I couldn't think of any other way to react. She took it bad I think. It was then that I felt I had just lost something that I never had. It was then that I felt bad just like her and decided to write for myself and to her. But I always have bad luck with girls, and I guess this situation is no different.

Rosemary

Where do I start? Do I start when I first saw her? Do I tell how I mistaked someone else for her? Do I start when I seen her with Heather?

What do I say? What can I say? What am I feeling? Why do I feel this way? How do I say what I feel? What would I say tell accurately how I feel? I don't know if they would, but I'll try. I'll start with when I saw her, the first time.

She sat right next to me. I sat down by myself in the library one day. I was reading my book for english. I left to the bathroom momentarily and as I came back I saw her put her bag next to mine. The library was full of empty table so I found that peculiar but interesting. What was it about this girl that intrigued me?

She had a different kind of beauty. She isn't gorgeous. She isn't flamboyant. She doesn't dress in slutty clothing that reveals everything. She not like that at all. She doesn't need to be. She has only a little bit of make-up. She has tan skin which is smooth to the touch I imagine, and there are no flaws. She has a piercing in her nose to off-set her single color pallete--it's a little shining crystal. Her clothes are very artistic and tasteful. She wears flip flops but not with remarkable colors. She has, what seem to be, faded pants that are factory made. She usually wears traditional mexican or native american shirts, which is definately unorthodox in this area (ironically so). She wears a bun all the time which just so happens to be one of the things I like. She was pretty and she shares a common interest.

She is majoring in Sociology, which is a field I take great interest in. Attending Cal State Northridge in the LA area normally, she comes here for some summer classes that relate to that dicipline. I told her that I happen to like sociology. A huge smile crept slowy but then glistened. I told her why and we shared a few words. But it was time for me to leave to chemistry, which I now regret seeing that we only spoke for a few. The initial encoutner was sort of akward, though.

We both waited for the other to talk. Well, I knew she wouldn't say anything, but I decided to wait it out a little. I wanted to analyze the whole situation. I still wondered why she sat near me and that made me think. She was reading something and I couldn't tell what it was. Finally she turned her head and covered her face behind her hand leaned toward me to make sure no portion of her appearence was visible. That's when I knew it was time to talk, so then I began. We talked for no more than two minutes before I left. Happy with just that, I left knowing I would have someone to talk to in the library. But after only two minutes that wasn't enough to nail down her face.

As I was lifting weights, I mistaked Rosemary for another girl. It was about 10, a time I don't usually go to workout, and I had my sunglasses on--they are a shade of blue and you can't see through them from the outside. I just perused the scenery and caught a young lady looking at me. Huh. So I decided to hit her up. She looked way too much like Rosemary and thought if I didn't chit chat with her that she'd think I was stuck up or some. So I I tok off my glasses and approached her. I casually asked her if her name was Rosemary to which she nodded side-to-side with a playful smile. I then asked her if I saw her yesterday in the library and she nodded once more. I felt like a fool. I apologized and left. Damn they looked alike, and now when I see the other one there is that thing. I don't much of it, but it's there. I didn't know if I'd get another chance to see Rosemary again I guess, so I took every opportunity. Well, that's how I explain that whole shpeal. As luck would have it I did see her again.

And then I saw her when I was with Heather. We got out of class early and me and Heather decided to hit the infamous library. We talked about nothing because we had a lot of time to do so. It just so happened that this was the same table that I saw Rosemary the first time. Like clockwork she came in at the same time and sat at the same table, about one seat in between her and Heather, with me being at the head of the table. She looked nice once more.

Rosemary looked better than the first time. She had flip flops but with that straw theme on the soles. She had those faded pants with a greenish traditional shirt again. Unlike the first time, she had a belly net around her waist. She had long Native America earrings on that were turquoise it looked like. She looked the same, but all different. But then again that's Rosemary.

I thought she'd think me and Heather were together, which I didn't want, so I had Heather talk about her man as I wrote some info about her on a paper. Heather fell for it inadvertently so. Me and Heather then moved to her, actually, and more generally the girls that can pull off the look she had, as discreetly and as tactful as possible(but without hesitation, of course). She heard and that didn't bother me much, but I wanted to Heather to leave already to so I could pick up where I left off 3 weeks ago. She didn't then, but did when she went to look for info. I thought it was time for action.

I spoke with her a little because I knew loud Heather would be back. I just asked if she liked to sit here because this was the last place I saw her--who really asks those type of questions anyways. But I knowing that she would be back, I waited for Heather to come so I could dismiss her and so I'd have the table and her to myself. And came she did, with the worst results.

Heather put me on blast bad. I tryed to hint to her to leave or scram but she didn't. Even better, she asked why....again and again and again hella loud. Man I looked freakin' stupid because Rosemary knew I was going to rap to her. Yeah I finally lost it and that made me look even worse than that weak-ass line. Heather got it and left, but so did Rosemary right after her. I sat there like a total fool by myself. I learned though. Next time I'll explain to my girls why to leave.

So where do I go from here? Do I try again? Will I see her again? Will she be at the same table again? What do I say when I see her again? How do I approach her the third time around, seeing how I failed the second but passed with flying colors the first? Can I even talk to her again? Will she think I'm stalking her? Do I try or avoid her? I'll try, but I don't know if I'll win--I don't like the unknown. But there is one thing that I know: there will be that thing with her, which will make two in one semster. :nonono:

i had a friend i liked as more and i knew he knew that but hes very friendly and im sure he didnt purposely try and make me think he liked me as well but i wold have appreciated it if it would have been clear wether or not he actually felt that way since he probably knew i would think he liked me if he was nice enough to me

regualr stuff people wonder about where feelings are involved
********: i still dont know for sure whether or not he liked me at all that way
********: i dont need the confusion of romantic feelings for people so i dont want to look for that kind of stuff
********: I trail on when i have a lot of thoughts there
********: sorry about that
********: I do try and have as much tact as i can though
shorlineFlame: na na I that's good stuff. finish it in the email if ya want. I just got to head off. That was good stuff no doubt. You have a good habit of writing prose without thinking about it.

It's not as easy as you think, you know
Going up to someone you don't know
and trying to talk to them like they are someone you know
making conversation so easy or telling them something they don't know

It's not as easy to tell someone how you feel
and erase their the akwardness they might feel
you watch and watch them pass knowing how you feel
but you don't say anything because you don't know how they feel

It's not easy to say the right thing
because you always wonder if it is the right thing
and whether it is or not there is always that thing
that keeps you away. It grows, it haunts, it stays, that thing

It's not easy to get what you want
because what you want might not be what they want
what you know might not be what they want
what you feel might not be what they want
and that's something you don't want, you know?

I told her but she didn't believe me


"at any one time you have some guy with his eye on you, and probably thinks he loves you." well, that's what I told her. she didn't believe me for a while until the sincerity in my eyes made it resounding. it's sort of creepy when you think of it.

she didn't want to accept that someone was looking at her and was sort of put in a state of paranoia. but what is wrong with that? He'll prolly come up to you one day and talk to you. who knows, this might be prince charming; mr. right; love of your life. he could?

He could. what if he said all the right things or made you believe that you were special. what if he was exactly what you wanted. what if your envious eyes had finally found a resting home contentment? would you still think he was creepy? He could be everything you wanted, if you gave him a chance, I told her.

what I really wanted to say is wait and see. You might catch lightning in a bottle. She might. I just hope she isn't creeped out when it happens.

byebye

trying to find something worthy of saying, but it seems i've already told myself everything before. every emotional muscle in my body, all the energy i've wasted, makes my brain and my heart sore. i'm sick of rhyming, but i guess it gives me something to work towards and i'm sick of you reading, but i guess it fakes some sort of connection, whatever it is i'm stuck looking for. i wish i could just suck it up, ****ing stop worrying about **** i can't control. but i can't stop, i don't know how... and until i figure it out i'll just keep whoring out my soul. and if your eyes won't listen like your ears, then i'll keep it all in like i used to. when the mask was only every once in a while, it was occasional, symbolic, and new. every bruise beneath was hidden by an opaque sheet covering me from head to toe. how ****ing stupid, i used to look out at all of you through two small rose-tinted windows. people use their worst judgement when they've been blinded by a simple sparkle. i'll force myself to digress to the degree of denial where it will be something beautiful. i'll make it less painful, more helpful, less harmful, more fruitful. it'll fill every void while hiding scars of the secrets i once wanted to share. don't you know, there is so much clogged up inside me... that no one knows because even i have lost the ability to care. and until you're in my skin, soaking in my sweat, shaking with my nerves, sliding in my wet, i'll smile to your smug face and curse you behind my back...you better count your lucky ****ing stars that i do wear this mask.



Misunderstood and positive attention. It would seem the speaker is rather unhappy because of wrong interpretation and lacking positive reinforcement.

Distraction and misleading. People use a facade to appease negative feelings towards them. Though continually acting out a role that is not congruent with your personality is not healthy. There is no expression, but repression.

Without direction. The speaker is crying out for someone to understand her, and yet there are not qualified takers. However being bitter is not a sociable acceptable norm, so she puts on a smile and wears it like a piece of garb for the day til she gets home, takes it off, and laments with a pinch of loathing for the world and her actions. It sucks. People will never know, and she'll continue this cycle until she finds her sense of self: HER wants, HER needs, HER preferences, and HER ambitions. She is just finding out that the world is miserable, and oh how it loves company.

Self-delusion and immaturity. With time comes experience and with experience comes maturity. The speaker does not know that yet, and will have to learn this through time. Being serious is not being mature, but it is asked of us as adults. The speaker believes that by "forcing" or willing herself to learn that she will. She is fooling herself. Only by being willing to learn will one learn, and so her solution is an exercise in futility (I believe. Sucks since the only thing to do to get over the pain is experience it, then modify your approach the next time).

Again I find your work intense and emotionally draining. I'm not one for cursing because I believe most use it for the shock value, yet here you put them in spots where they are most effective, bringing out the most of the lines. e.g
i wish i could just suck it up, ****ing stop worrying about **** i can't control.
In the first portion before the comma, you take a passive approach to language. Then, immediately and without a warning, you hit the gas hard--0 to 60 in no time flat. You went from weak to vicious, and I love it.

I love your inuendo. You take common phrases and word them different to avoid the blunting strikes of such cliches. e.g
i used to look out at all of you through two small rose-tinted windows.
Rose shades glasses.
people use their worst judgement when they've been blinded by a simple sparkle.
Love at first sight or love is blind.
i'll force myself to digress to the degree of denial where it will be something beautiful.
Ignorance is bliss.
It is simply amazing--no doubt.

The irony is what caps this reading experience. The speaker says that she lost the ability to care, and yet desires for some individual to accept her. More entertaining is that she still vehemently scorns the subject, adding to the irony that she doesn't care.

I loved this piece. I didn't want to assume this was about you because it would be wrong of me. So I wrote this as if it were just art. I did not get personal, but atttempted to interpret as best I can. As with other of your pieces, I can empathize! =)