6:34pm

In the last few days, my ex and I have begun e-mailing again. However, the result wasn't exactly a positive one.

You ever just...sit back and take everything into prospective? That's what I'm doing right now. I'm taking everything she said to me in her last e-mail (which was basically all insults), as well as my home situation, the fact that my best friend is M.I.A., my girlfriend's situation, and the shit going down at my sister's house, and I think I've reached the point where I say I dont want it anymore. I'm finding it difficult right now to spill everything I'm feeling into words.

Ever since I was able to form a coherent thought, all I've ever wanted to do was make an impact on people's lives, but in a positive way. I'm approaching my 20th year of life, and I can successfully say that I have done just the opposite. I've been nothing but a pain to my friends, my family, my teachers, my co-workers. Anyone I've encountered, I've burdened. Please don't think this is a pity trip for me. I'm just getting out how I feel about my life at this point. I could care less if any of you reading this fucking care or not.

I think the main reason I decided to sit down and spit this shit out was because of what Martine wrote me. It wasn't that she offended me. It just made me mad. I told her how I felt about our past relationship, and how I do want to be her friend. She comes back with insult after insult. I would've hoped that somewhere in there, my thoughts of her as a better person than that were true. But as usual, I'm a poor judge of character. Regardless of what she wrote about me or called me, I still care about her. She'll always be my friend.

But there's something else that maybe I should touch on. One of my biggest problems, and many people have pointed this out to me, is that I'm too laid back when it comes to being pushed around or insulted or taken advantage. Choose whatever term you wish. 90% of the time, I talk how I would never let it happen, but in the end, I'm full of shit. Maybe the nickname "rug" is very fitting, since I'm always getting walked all over. Ok, now I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm straying off-topic here.

Is it so wrong to want to please others? It is and it isn't. I mean, let's face it: at some point, everyone has done something for the simple satisfaction of hearing someone say "Good job!", "Well done!", "I'm proud of you!". Now, take into account how good you felt when you heard that. You were the King (or Queen). You were on top of the world. Are ya ready for it now? While you're perched up on your soapbox, someone comes along..."YOu cost us the game!", "Nice score on your test, stupid!", "It's not my fault you're ugly!" What's wrong? Don't feel so high now, do ya? You feel like scum? No wait...do you feel lower than rat excrement? Like the white stuff that forms at the corner of your mouth when you talk too much? Good.

Now you'll read this and maybe understand me a little better. Everyday, at some point, I have to look in the mirror. Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but everytime I see that fuckin' guy in the mirror, he pisses me off. I don't see some have said: cute, smart, level-headed, nice, a good, whole-hearted guy. Know what I see? Shit. Failure. I could have a shouting match with him, but then people might discover just how screwed up I really am. Like tonight. I had a shower about...I dunno, 25 minutes ago. My ICQ Occupied message read:

"But you can be anything you want, Rug." Bullshit. I don't have the motivation to be anything, be anyone. I've accepted the fact that 20 years down the road, I'll still be a Custodial Arts Specialist (a fucking janitor). I'm not ok with it, but I'm convinced there's nothing I can do about it. Christ, I work right now as a room runner at a bar. I love working in a bar. I love the people. That's probably why I'm trying to find another job that works around my current job. If I quit, I'd feel bad. They've probably gone through hundreds of employees since their opening, and wouldn't blink at the thought of me leaving, but here I am concerned about that very thing.

It's funny, y'know. At AskMe.com, I'm one of the experts in the Mental Health section, because I feel I could share some advice through my own experiences. And yet, here I am pleading to you, the ones who can't hear me, for help. Help for what, I don't know. The mindless babble of a lunatic, I suppose. Do you think they'll lock me up for this? Time to get out the straight jacket. We got us a fresh one here! Immortal.

I sit here, too emotionally and mentally exhausted to think. Yet, I spill out my thoughts...my fears...my inner-most secrets to you, the one reading this. You sit there, smoking your cigarette, drinking, thinking of how Mario Lemieux got in the All-Star Game, or how much you hate that bitch that tormented you in high school. You, full of fears and doubts, hopes and dreams...ideas...perhaps ingenius ideas that will never sail because you're too scared to propose them. Propositions can be an evil thing, no? You sit here, understanding me, because you too hate the fucker that stares back at you everytime you brush your teeth, or shave, or put on your makeup. Everytime that glass shows an image, you're full of loathing as I am. And all that you put aside and sit here because you're curious to see what's running through my head and my heart today. Today, you've done something that very few people do anymore. You listened.

Thank you.

Sincerely Yours,