What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here...

I had three parties to go to last night.
THREE. One would think I'm fucking 'social' or something.
I chose Kaine's... I chose his and it was "perfect"... meant to be, anyhow. So fucking special.

Felling betrayed; a little angry.
Very much ALIVE, however.

More complications.. not what I was after, but it sure makes things interesting.
Perhaps I should stop analysing.. lying on the floor, freezing, curled in on myself.. it was like old times, while it set the "low"... The desperation was gone. Hurt without the release. Some thing's got to happen.

Feeling less [human]. More detached. Not feeling LESS, simply not being affected by what is there. Tired, mostly.

There's an eloquent way to explain this, I'm sure.

On a long enough time-line even the most extreme things begin to feel contrived.


-----------
3hours & 4minuntes later


I need to write because I.. it seems I have lost the ability of talking and the will to express myself any other way..

Before I get into that, the story of the Canadian Engineer:
It begins (as many interesting stories do), with a bottle of Vodka.
Smirnoff, of course. Like drinking metho from a wine bottle - there's something romantic yet truly repulsive about it.
The setting, Quinn's house; if there is a place that hold more mixed feelings and memories I don't know of it.
We'd been speaking on and off all night. Physics, engineering, a bit of philosophy. He knew his stuff, but I knew far more.. it felt good, showing up a fully qualified engineer while very, very drunk... but the most amazing part of the night was curling up half on the couch and half lying against his chest. I do not even know his name but for that mere 45minutes of stillness, of listening to his heartbeat, his breathing, and the occasional sound of him drinking his beer.... it was WARM and SAFE; I felt CONNECTED to another Human. He assumed me to be sleeping and just let me cling there, against him. When, finally, he had to go, he slipped out from underneath my head and covered me in a blanket saying "I've got to go Fin, I hope I'll get to see you again sometime."
The kindness of others astounds me sometimes...it's so fucking perfect.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND PEOPLE.
Yet, I do. I'm just frustrated.

And I'm mad at [you].
I'm mad at [you] and [everybody] and [everything]... and really I'm just mad at myself.
For being stupid.
For caring.
For not caring enough.

And, truly, I'm not even mad.... betrayed, perhaps. Uninformed. Sad, mostly.

Going around in fucking circles; that's it, I'm breaking this chain.