I'm fucking stupid.
I've been on this bus struggling to think of something to do to pass the time as I have my internet-less laptop and nothing to do, and in trying to excavate an idea from the far depths of my mind, I didn't think to write anything! I can write anything wherever I go; all I have to do to put it on the blog is copy and paste! DUH!
Whenever I first open my laptop, my immediate instinct is to click directly on Mozilla Firefox. I've done that at least twice so far, not even considering that there IS NO FUCKING INTERNET ON A BUS. I think I may have an addiction. Perhaps I need help.
I'm not sure why, but I ended up in a short traffic jam on Interstate 57, about 10 minutes south of Interstate 80. For some reason, there is a traffic jam at this location about half the time I pass by it, and it's not even a busy or heavily-populated area. I don't know what it is about that place that always gets it all jammed up.
I should have downloaded an arsenal of music to listen to on the bus as opposed to the smattering of a beat the douchewagon behind me is blasting through his headphones. They're probably ear-buds too. The ear-waxy kind.
I don't know how much literary merit these musings bear. I don't know how much I care about how much merit they have. I guess I do care somewhat. I DO need to manipulate these words in the best way that I can so that the thoughts that you think are in my head based on reading this match the actual thoughts I have in my head as closely as possible. So I weave and stretch and move and bang these words into place so that what's in my head ends up being very similar to what ends up in yours. The only problem is that there are infinitely many ways to do it.
There's an annoying kid three seats from the front who keeps asking stupid questions, the epitome of which is "Are we there yet?" I feel like responding, "DID YOU SEE THE BUS FUCKING STOP? 'NO?' WELL THAT MEANS WE AREN'T FUCKING THERE YET. USE YOUR TWO GODDAMN EYES."
In my desperation to find something on my computer to keep my attention, I found a folder I made called "Old mementos." (A couple of obnoxious Harley drivers sped past us just now. I hope they die. Anyway,) In this folder I found the products a tactic I've used to combat insufficient self-esteem that may come my way: conversations I've had on instant messengers with girlfriends I've had in the past.
Sometimes I feel like no one is capable of loving me--hey, we all do at times (for some, it's just more frequently than it is for others). But then I look back at the evidence I've recorded. Hell, you might actually like to try it yourself. It helps you to remember all of the wonderful things you've experienced in your life.
There are some conversations I've saved that are pretty much useless. I know I've had girls I've considered to be mistakes. You don't know until you try it, and I tried it...And it turned out like shit, for some of these girls. Those are the conversations that I don't care to look back on. Some of such conversations are in there. But there are others...MUCH better ones.
So I looked back at those. And I wondered what the hell happened to end all of them (because obviously I'm single now). Some were my fault, some were the girl's. But it's interesting to think about the passion that you felt, the passion that you know is real, and the passion that you thus must be capable of expressing in the future. Fuck, if I've done it before I can do it again. That gives me hope. I wonder if any of you do the same thing.
I should be arriving at the station now. Instead, I'm about 10 minutes away.