If Books Had Arms...part II

I've decided that I'm a terrible blogger. I can only blog when I'm experiencing dangerous surges of emotions.

Guess what!? Now is a PERFECT time for blogging.

Apart from school pressures and the impending tragedy of Thanksgiving at home, I'm having some issues with love of the unrequited variety. Three cases, to be precise. I must be a masochist.

First and potentially foremost there is a guy I will call "Ted." "Ted" is pretty much the ideal male in my eyes - except for the fact that, how should I phrase this....all signs point to gay. "Ted" is a very intelligent political activist whom I not only admire on a personal level but also on that of a fellow progressive-minded individual. I won't go into the myriad reasons why I haven't got a chance with him; suffice it to say that I have a better chance of contracting syphilis from Don Knotts.

Then there is another guy who is actually a friend of mine. Again, I haven't got a chance. He's also very intelligent and politically savvy, but in addition he's poetically inclined and one of the biggest pains in my proverbial ass that I have ever experienced. I honestly couldn't tell you why I still have feelings for him - he has a love of theatrics and crushing feelings.

Lastly, there is a girl who reminds me a lot of me, but she's smarter, stronger, and much prettier. This particular affection is one that I haven't shared with anyone, let alone her.

The only one who actually knows is the second guy...and after seeing what a mistake it was to tell him, I can hardly fathom telling the others.

This all feels a little high school for me - I mean, I don't do this. But the fact remains that I am harboring obsessions of varying severity and haven't the slightest clue what to do but hug my knees and cry while listening to "November Rain" by Guns n Roses.

If books had arms, I wouldn't need men

On a university campus you would expect there to be myriad selections of intelligent men...yet I have met to date only two I would even consider dating, one of them being a very good friend of mine who I'd rather not date for fear of ruining a fantastic friendship, and the other being the embodiment o everything I could ever want from a man. The former is probably my best guy friend on campus. The latter is a politically savvy, extremely bright man who oozes charisma and dissolves the very foundation of my being, leaving me to collapse in on myself like an ancient monument to unrequited love.

He brings out a dramatic streak in me.

It stuns me how tremendously I fail at speaking to this man. I suppose for now I'll just curl up in my bed with a book...if only books had arms to hold you with.

I Propose an Experiment

Let me begin by saying that blogging is not my "thing." I've never had a serious journal or any such record of my life. But I think it'd be an interesting sort of experiment to try this out - see how it affects my stress levels. I've heard that venting actually makes some people feel better xD

I suppose I should introduce myself. You may call me "Willow." I'm a college student, an activist, a writer, a reader, and a thinker. I suppose you might say I'm a nerd, and I don't think I could argue. I'm just unconventional, energetic, and at the moment pretty tired.




Listened to during this post:

• "Stairway to Heaven" - Led Zeppelin
• "Sweet Child of Mine" - Guns 'n' Roses