bar.

in an effort to pull my head out of my ass, and be social/happy/normal(ish) i went to my bar. alone. while i was meeting friends there at ambiguous times, i had, believe it or not, ever been to that particular place alone.

awkward.

well, people came. i talked, i drank, i got some smiling in.

then i got bored.

then i looked around.

i saw a person i tried(ish) dating a month or two ago. met him at joe strummer's birthday party, but...we never got around to hanging out after that.

he tried.

i didnt.

he gave up.

well.

he was there with a girl. in a pretty party dress. with long hair. and no tattoos.

all of a sudden, my black tank, black leggings, black chucks seemed.....un-pretty. too tough. too "fuck off and die". i felt....odd. similar to how i used to feel when the object of my affections went for the cutesy preppy chick over me.

it's a bizarre dichotomy, being surrounded by people who think youre a badass and seeing someone who found it all too...much.

"too much" is my Achilles heel.

i am constantly, through out my entire life, "too ____(loud, talkative, sensitive, complicated, angry, abstract, dominant, needy, political...)". for me, the concept of being over the top, being beyond a palatable amount of one adjective or another, has been a consistent reminder of how hard it is to be around me. how im someone unworthy of time and attention because its too overwhelming to be around me, too much effort, too much...well, just too much.

i find it hard to separate myself, even now, from the sad teenage girl getting chosen second to the girl the boy really wished he was with. the one he could bring to mom, the one who could be "cleaned up".

i have a grit that no amount of designer body wash will scrub off, and sometimes i find that to be a difficult reality to face.