nostalgic ruminations of a long lost mind

I am tired. But more than that I am bored. It is difficult being a student; every once in awhile you find yourself with nothing to do. This is especially true during spells of vacation time without a vacation spot to go to. They should make vacations optional, on a demand basis, and subject to quotas. Imagine your classmate's face when he is told that he would have to forego the annual visit to his grandmother in some remote part of the world where people go to visit their grandmothers once a year, because the "Students Visiting Their Grandmothers Annually in a Remote Part of the World Somewhere" quota has been filled.

Hah! I would pay to see that. It wouldn't be funny if it happened to you, though. It'd be funny to me. Anyway, I have no plans to speak of whatsoever. Oh, I had plans; I had planned all kinds of things once I saved up enough (read: never gonna happen). Not anymore. My plans got screwed up because of the war in Iraq.

Well, because I broke up with my girlfriend of eight months anyway. But, in many ways, our relationship was a lot like the current war in Iraq. What started out as a pre-emptive strike of mistrust and misunderstanding, soon became a full-blown battle for moral supremacy when unexpected insurgencies of emotional baggage came into the scene. A Molotov cocktail of harsh words and lack of commitment was bad enough, but the arsenal of insecurities and personality clashes unleashed was just too much to bear.

Walking on eggshells in the minefield of sensitivity and throwing grenades of jealousy became par for the course. A well-aimed grudge missile here, a dose of unreasonable napalm there, and -- as far as the eye can see in every direction -- stockpiles of radioactive stubbornness littering the landscape.

I'm surprised that the war lasted as long as it did. One side was usually giving up while the other did not relent with its assault. The war dragged on even after there was nothing left to fight for. The casualties of feelings and emotions were immense; the only survivor: heartbreak.

And just like the ongoing Iraqi War, the positive results are minimal and the bad immensely difficult to deal with. The fallout will be felt for years to come. You can hardly tell the good guys from the bad guys; neither is willing to give in, and both are as brutal as humanly possible.

I believe I am still recovering from post traumatic shock. Doc, I can't feel anything from the heart down. My head's all messed up, I find myself staring at nothing all day, and the only way I'm coping is through chain-smoking and pacing around the house restlessly, waiting for something to happen. Doc, help me! Give me drugs, give me alcohol, I don't care; give me something to relieve the pain! I’m dying here, Doc! I am sorry, Doc, please don't blame me for being difficult. I am merely a soldier, fighting for a lost cause.

PLAYLIST

I'm Not Ok (I Promise) -- My Chemical Romance

Sex Is Not The Enemy -- Garbage

Shut You Out -- Millencolin

15 Minutes -- The Strokes

Goodbye My Lover -- James Blunt

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