Living on a television screen

For a moment, Kim was right when she pointed out that I treat my crushes as if it was the biggest thing on earth. It's as if there was a past, as if there was a hurtful break-up, and as if there is a terrible need for moving on, with counseling involved, even.

I think that's the closest I have to adventure. Honestly, though. I've had quite a lot in my eighteen years and there are only a few instances when those names just seem to pass me by. If you know where to look (and if you're lucky enough) you'll realize there's been quite a lot more. And maybe I'm just too hyperactive to prevent myself from doing a song, a dance and a poem about whoever it is that caught my eye. Nevertheless I can't help but live off inspiration; the only thing is, people do get annoyed.

It's quite legendary that there are some of us who apparently have a crush on every girl they see. At least that's how they say it - I could be reserved and think of the people that don't exactly pass qualifications, if you know what I mean - but nevertheless it sort of amazes when you see that, somehow, they're succeeding. This could be another effort to drag me down, but fact number one is, I'm not exactly assertive - I could be effeminate even, and say that intimacy is a little oft-unexploited expertise of mine. Or maybe oft-abused. But, you know, images of what should be done and all - that particularly sucks, really. Seeing that it all flies away makes you realize that you're not really cut for it.

And when you tell things to other people, you're led to thinking they're listening - but apparently, they aren't! Fact number two is, nobody has been exactly interested in the stories I tell. Maybe this feeble attempt at getting myself heard is going nowhere, minus the fame that I was originally aiming for. But get me talking about my crushes, past or present, and I'll be able to kill so much time you'll fall asleep. But no, you're all good at pretending that I'm a good storyteller and actually listen. But if it was awkward already to talk to Ale about me having a crush on Ale, what more about talking to other unaffected people when it comes to, say, the latest glimpse-catcher? Enter repressed emotions.

And thus I start living a life that's quite sad, precisely because I'll realize that nobody is willing to share their plights - or have me share it with them. I'm insufficient burden. I'm unnecessary baggage. I'm an extra YM contact you're wondering about. Essentially you'll wonder why I'm even telling you stories about me buying Kizia a copy of The Little Prince a year ago, for instance, because you don't actually need a book review - what you need is moving on. I'm not always telling you of things precisely because I fear that you'll just laugh at me - suddenly nobody seriously cares. Or, remove the seriously and make it sound so much worse. Fact number three is, essentially, I'm just having fun all by myself, thinking of names for weeks and significances to each hand grabbed or person hugged.

How pathetic, you might think. Seriously, though. Am I that deprived of love?

Companionship is essential, or at least that's what the lessons say, for a person to flourish. And maybe that's why I still treat myself to the usual fanfare whenever someone manages to turn my head around and give me a stiff neck. I also need my entertainment, you know - I need enough of an escape because already the people around me don't care. They're just too busy proving that crushes aren't a big deal, that there is no need for moving on, that there is life after you turn your head to one direction, that there is no sense in spying on someone who you can't essentially talk to - basically, they're having fun making fun of you. You'll wonder at how relationships are formed and you realize that they've popped all fingers at you in disdain.

Eventually I'll have no choice but to enjoy mindless entertainment. They don't call it the idiot box for nothing, you know. They just use other people for their pleasures, without them knowing how you really do it. I'm just using other people to keep me afloat, and they're not aware that already I'm looking at them with a different twinkle in my eye.

Or maybe I've been falling in love every single time someone's eyes look into mine. Just maybe...

And your responses...

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