The Other World

"Ylioppilaskunta järjestää keskustelutilaisuuden salissa Whaeva klo 12 ylioppilaskunnan organisaation uudistuksista."

Juu. Että näin. Voi saatana. Edustajiston varajäsenenä sain kyseisen uudituksen loppuversion sähköpostiin viikko ennen kokousta. Mukana seuraava teksti:

"Asiakirjan sisällöstä ei saa keskustella edustajiston ulkopuolisten henkilöiden kanssa, eikä asiakirjaa missään nimessä saa välittää edustajiston ulkopuolelle."

Taas kerran kihahti allekirjoittaneella. Mitä vittua?! Miksi ei? No siksi, ettei potkuja tulevaisuudessa saavat tienneet että näin on tulossa käymään. Heidän kanssaan ei ole viitsitty tästä keskustella. Kaikessa hiljaisuudessa edustajisto hyväksyy hallituksen esityksen ja kaksi viikkoa sen jälkeen asiasta järjestetään rivijäsenille keskustelutilaisuus. KAKSI VIIKKOA! "KESKUSTELU"TILAISUUS!

Paskanko hyötyä siitä nyt on keskutella, kun tyypit ovat omassa pienessä piirissään tekstin sorvanneet ja sen läpi saaneet! Ja vitut. "Keskustelutilaisuus" on vain kaunisteltu termi "ilmoitustilaisuudesta" (yksipuolisuus), joka saa aikaan illuusion demokratiasta. Ja tästä ilosta joudun maksamaan Suomen korkeinta ylioppilaskunnan jäsenmaksua. Ai miksi? Sen takia, että edellisten hallitusten idiootit päättivät, että VYY tarvitsee ylioppilastalon statussymbolikseen. Ja nyt ollaan sitten vuokraamassa tiloja ulkopuolisille, kun ei enää rahat riitä tuon peniksenjatkeen ylläpitämisksi. VYY on kastroitu, mutta kalliiksi tuli sekin. Saatana.

I could be on my way to a pub, to watch a pub quiz. To try to be social. But no... even if we ignore that I was a bit sick yesterday and on Tuesday...

I can't do it. I can't go to a place where all these people have fun with their friends and loved ones. I can't. It's as if each day makes me feel more alone than the day before; one more day of loneliness, of constant yearning for *her*, for even one friend. Anything than going days on end without speaking to anyone face to face. Knowing all the time that *she* is out there living *her* own life, a life with friends and -what kills me at the moment the most- a loved one.

Why do those I find perfect for me are ones out of my reach? Is this what everyone has to do; to settle for someone else and secretly wish they were with the some other? If so, why bother at all?

It seems getting a pizza has become a rather adventorous experience nowadays. The local Kotipizza tends to always have TV 5 on, and come 9 o'clock... oh dear. Tonight the mindblowing entrance to the "adult" TV turned out to be a bunch of men talking and showing explicitly their use of penis elongator (or whatever the term is). NOT what I'd normally watch. Lovely, isn't it: billions of years and this is as far as we've come, non-medical cosmetic surgery without knife on TV. I'm sure the three teenage boys there must have had an "educating" time, considering the looks on their faces.

Do those things even work? Skin you can stretch but veins, not without surgery. Apart from that there's the one surgery thing where they cut off a ligament to make the penis hang lower but that also makes erection tricky. So what the hell's the point?

There's someone I like. Not Her, for those of you who have an idea what the capitalisations means. After four years, finally someone else. I doubt my chances are at least as low as with Her. Let's call her... fuck, I don't know, *she*.

Anyway, I could go and see *her* today. I just have no reason other than wanting to see and talk with *her*. Not good. I have a baddish day. It seems likely I'll sleep through the day to spend time, or watch a TV series. I have no one to talk to; I don't have a meeting with the psychologist until Thursday. I was hoping a package of books would have arrived today so I would have had a reason to go outside. Lectures are no longer a very good motivation to even get out of bed, let alone go through the trouble of clothes and shoes and bag and going out the door. I'm a fucking zombie. "Sometimes when the heart has a disease, it doesn't kill you. Then you have living dead." I feel like a living dead most of the time.

Sitting at the square, watching light in the windows of the surrounding houses. So many apartments, so many lives. Even though it is an statistically inaccurate assumption, it seems to me as if all of those people I see in the windows are happy. I feel as if they all have someone else in the apartment with them, someone who loves them and who they love. I go home and sit on my bed with all lights turned out, in the darkness.

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"E says hi. She says you started studying the same year. We're on the same German group. :)" One message from my sister and I'm better already. So easy to better my day but so few times that actually happens.

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Sex drive is on the highway again. Not only during day time but in my dreams as well. Maybe I should begin prostituting... :/

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In a couple of months I'll be 25. A quarter of a century. I'm getting too old to still be like this: never having dated anyone, never having had a romantic relationship with anyone, never having been even kissed let alone anything else. And at the same time I have plans laid out for a permanent job, buying a house, mortgages, car, maybe weddings, maybe kids... And then be hit by the reality again.

This is a downward spiral no cutting can fix even momentarily, no amount of sleep, no nothing. Dwelling in Studio Ghibli's worlds which usually can make everything better... even dwelling in them doesn't help since so many of the films are based on outsiders finding companions, partners.

My usual blues seems so easy to fix compared to this: just going out and get involved with some student activity. But right now going out means seeing all those couples walking there hand in hand... all those people that lead their usual lives with relationships... all those women that might have been if I were different... fuck, now I'm crying again. What's the use of crying over something that won't change?

Everytime the same thing. I see drunks in my vicinity, I go on a Fight-or-Flight mode. It doesn't matter whether they're batshit drunk or just getting taking something or with a hangover.

Today I went to Hesburger around noon and two drunks were there before me on the line. I've seen them both before: they're the same ones that hang around the market square all day long. These two... the other is in a wheelchair, I think his legs are amputated. The other was the usual skinny, bearded and smelly variety. I kept my distance to them and stayed back when they went to the table. I had so many moods going on in my head. On one hand, my loathing for drunks, my fear (knowing perfectly well that drunks are very unpredictable), my pity (for them being in that state where drinking has become their solution), my whatifs (would my father have become like them in the end, wondering without a job and a home and the only people to call family would be the fellow-drunks, living from hand-to-mouth), my disappointment (with myself for not being able to let got of this, not being able to not go to the fight or flight mode, not being able to act normal around them, not being able to not let my past affect me this much still)...

I wonder if I'll ever get rid of this.

The second first lecture of this academic year and I'm not there. Not because I'd preferred sleeping but because I sprained my ankle. Lovely. Not exactly the way I'd like to start a new year but no can do.

Note to self: read books while walking ONLY on main roads.

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Additional observation to the previous entry: I quit last Monday. Felt a whole lot better right after saying that. :)

Another work-related entry. This firm is really testing my patience. Yesterday there was a problem that pissed me off pretty nicely. Today I get that sorted out and now I have a brand new reason to be even more pissed than yesterday.

My work station today was next to a blabber blabber guy and a young woman. The guy gave me the third degree:

"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."

I guess my tone had some undertone in it that I didn't hear because the next question went thus:

"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No, not at the moment."

Clearly the guy was after my marital status (for reasons I just plain don't get.. again!) and what happens: he doesn't really even bother to conceal it as he jumped up and ran to the supervisor/colleague to talk about me. Now, this isn't even me being paranoid: he pointed at me and the supervisor looked at me. I mean FUCK! What is he, a fucking mentally teen asshole. And the "best" part was "with" the female. She's a gypsy and the tradition there is very homophobic. So what do I get? I have to get up from my chair and bend down to get a wire away from the chair's roller so I won't break anything. And her reaction? She made the guy ask me if I'd dropped my pen and I explained no, that it's the wire that keeps getting stuck on the chair roller. And then she did something I've only heard of before: she left hurriedly to the bathroom explaining as she went that she really needed to do that. Coming back she explained rather loudly something about "personal reasons".

I'm already wondering what tomorrow will bring as if she or anyone else tries to pull something like that again, I'm going to have to speak up. And maybe, just maybe, I'm actually not going to be so hurt I can't think of anything even remotely clever to shut them up for good.

It seems that many of you are working, so I assume you have some experience on this matter. I remember Aboa mentioning of a colleague who kept referring to his husband as his "wife" knowing perfectly well he is a he. So what the fuck are we supposed to do this type of situations, especially when the superiors don't have the spine to cut it out once and for all. I mean, hello! It's not like she doesn't know about this, she was there and part of the gossiping circle, goddamit!!!

~Note bene: I wrote this last night but the bloody computer jammed up and refused to upload it~

Just like to share this with you: about a week and a half ago on Saturday I had an energy surge and ended up cleaning my flat like never before after I moved in. In the same activity euphoria I ended up putting job application to different places, mainly telemarketing companies since they're the ones that have most of the jobs available. A few days after that I had a phone call and an invitation to an interview. Five days ago I walk out of the door with a job. And today was my first day. Very fast, indeed.

I was a bit nervous.. because I wasn't nervous about the job at all. Maybe the previous telemarketing thing a few years back was just so unpleasant that this couldn't possibly go worse. And it didn't. I was actually the first of us five newbies who made a deal! And the place is okay, AND the bosses are women!

There's a company weekend coming up. I was asked to go there but I'm still not in favour of it. I mean, to go to a remote place, too far to just pop in and go back home, with a bunch of people I just met today, who are planning to get drunk. My mentor specifically asked me later again; maybe I'm a human experiment to see if the selling tactiques work on humans as well, or maybe she'd like not to be the only one not drinking there. I really don't know what to do with that. To go to a place I most likely won't like (I just can't help imagining the bloody ABI-risteily... aaarghh!) or risk being labelled unsocial spoilsport not really committing myself to the people I work with.

Any advice, anyone, on this one?

...The trip does make me think of my trips to Menkijärvi when I was a kid. My family and my mother's parents used to rent a cabin there and spend a few days there, swimming, barbecuing, picking berries, swimming a bit more... I really liked it. I don't know why we stopped one year. Later on I've discovered there was some double murder or something in the area and another murder or something soon after that. Dunno.

Anyway, one night isn't that bad, right? And I'm still in the same town so theoretically I could walk back home if absolutely necessary. Granted, I would have to start right in the morning but it's unlikely I'd have to take such drastic measures in getting out of there. But then again... watching my colleagues and bosses get drunk and potentially make complete fools of themselves just might not be the best way to begin my career in a company.

~And this bit I wrote just now :)~

But now I'm getting ready to go to work. Perhaps this morning shift wasn't such a bad idea, at least for now I'm not that tired. But I do need to fix the timetables; yesterday I just threw in random numbers, today I need to change them to be a bit more accurate. I mean, I'm a part-timer, so no reason to go above the 20-hour quota too much.

You know Derren Brown? The British illusionist, mentalist, magician, author...? He is so hot. I repeat, HE is so sexy.

I am a bit confused.