In light of what I've found out about *A* recently, I'd like to rewrite this post. It seems I'm off the mark. Not only that, but I'm being obnoxious, and am jumping to conceptions that could well prove to be incorrect.

This past week was without a doubt one of the most event-filled weeks I've had in my life. Hardly a dull moment, I guess. I read Jian's blog today, and stumbled across an abbreviation my one friend has, that he quotes whenever someone is having personal problems. That abbreviation, WWWH, stands for women, wealth, work, and health. This week saw my thoughts pretty much entirely fixated on those four things alone.

Wealth needs no explaining. I'm a student. And as for health, is it worth going there? I'm going to just sort of skim over that topic.

Work is piling up. At least it's not too hard to get a handle on what I've got on my plate right now. I just need to apply myself to what I've got in front of me, and all will go well. I'm focusing a bit better too just lately.

And that brings me to the topic of women. Where to begin?

As I said, I feel like I'm mentally setting myself up for a fall with Tammy (Tamara, for those that didn't make the association), and I even told Rob about this on Friday night. I've actually come to kind of dread being in these kind of situations: the kind where I start feeling something for someone. In the past, the results of my actions whenever I've felt this way haven't exactly been what I would've wanted. At the end of the day, no matter how rock solid we try and be, how invincible we make the facade we put on look, we still tend to be absolutely vulnerable to emotion, and it almost always feels like a concious choice. Go figure.

So, as I said, I feel like I'm setting myself up to fall for Tammy. I went to movies with her, Hara, Lauren, and a few of her friends on Thursday. She invited us all, since her church had been offered tickets to the premiere of The Passion Of The Christ. It seems she doesn't have a boyfriend. At least, you'd have expected him to have been there, if she did have one. So, let's assume there's a long distance relationship. But then, that option was seemingly ruled out on Friday, when I got onto the topic of friendship, and she said how she'd grown apart from her best friend, firstly because they now went to different educational institutions, and secondly, because of her friend having a boyfriend.

Isn't that a subtle way of saying, "No, I don't have a boyfriend, if you were wondering."? It strikes me as that. As I said, she's agreed to go to coffee with me, and I just need to organise the details. So we'll see. We shall see....



I went through to The Doors on Friday. It was a somewhat surreal experience. Since I was feeling a bit miff, I wasn't in the mood to dance, and as a result, I spent a decent amount of time walking around on the roof, and outside. At around 11:30 pm, I wandered through the parking lot, and spotted a feminine figure lying in a somewhat dark corner of the parking lot. Her soft cry for help was barely audible, such that Rob didn't even hear it.

And guess what my response to this was? I merely sarcastically thought to myself, "What a shame....", and carried on walking.

I proceeded a further 3 metres down the road, before I stopped myself. I then asked Rob, "Did you hear that?".
"What?", his replied was.
"That cry for help?", I responded.
"No? What are you talking about?", he said.

And the next thought through my mind was, I quoth verbatim "What the fuck is wrong with me?". I stopped myself, turned around, and went to help her out.

It turns out she was fucked on both alcohol and weed. She was violently puking her lungs out on the pavement. She wasn't in a state to direct us if we were to attempt to take her home, and the guy she'd come with had seemingly just left her to her intoxicated, drugged state. I caught myself thinking that she was lucky I'd stumbled across her, simply because if any sicko had come across her, they'd have been able to rape her, she wouldn't have been able to resist, and come time to file a report at the police station, she wouldn't even have been able to identify her assailant.

I guess I'm a caregiver type at heart. It just was somewhat oddly surreal that it took me awhile to stop myself, and go help her out of the puddle of vomit she could have potentially suffocated to death in.

We ended up finding the guy she came with, because she was in a mental state sufficient enough to give us his cell number. He ended up taking her home.

I still can't believe how disinterested I was in helping her at first, though. I think maybe it's to do with some of the pills I've been taking, and I've been taking a fuckload of prescription shit that I've actually resolved to stop taking. I don't need pretty much anything to function adequately as a human being. Either find the problem causing my lack of focus and dizziness, and treat that, or don't treat me at all. If I don't have a problem, I don't want some fucked up prescription drug to treat some obscure symptom.

One question I have to pose to myself though, is, "Was my behaviour because of the drugs, or because of who I'm slowly becoming?". Secondly, should I care that I didn't care about her predicament at first, until I stopped myself, and basically asked myself, "What the fuck?". I think I should, and the fact that I don't care about not having cared originally is kind of disturbing.

I'd like to blame it on the medication.

I don't know if what I'm experiencing lately is insomnia of some form, or what, but I'm feeling so physically fucked lately. Sleep doesn't seem to restore any energy, and I've had a rather nasty headache for probably the past 3 weeks. Kind of whacked.

Made a coffee arrangement with Tammy. Just got to make some concrete plans regarding it. This week will probably be out, since I'm going to be pulling a long 5-hour-a-day Mathematics haul this entire week at Varsity. Unkief.

We'll see where it goes. I really like her though.

Another thing on my mind is the concept of friendly flirtatiousness with a total lack of intention to act on it. To give an idea of what I mean, imagine a friend of yours with whom you just absolutely click on a number of levels. She has a boyfriend whom she intends to be completely faithful to. Flirting, talk of kissing, etc, takes place, and she ends up 'owing you kisses', which she'll make good on when 'she doesn't have a boyfriend'.

Women are ev0l.

Now listening to Bob Marley 4tehwin!!~!`1

I seem to be able to focus for a reasonable period again. Of, say, two and a half hours. Maybe it's lifting. Applied Maths pracs should give me a hint in that regard.

As of late, a number of mates of mine have been prescribing treatments for my mental sanity that I'm not truly fond of. "Karl, you need to get laid.", they all say. And I tend to respond with a well-deserved, "Bollocks!". For crying out loud, if I needed to get laid to relieve some sexual tension that I'm supposedly experiencing, there've been enough opportunities anyway.

Anyway, on the relationship front, I can see myself setting myself up for a fall here. Her name is Tamara. She's an intelligent, mature, pretty, caring, sweet, Christian, 19 year old that attends a number of the same lectures I do. *sigh* Silly me.

Here we go again?

I'm still having problems with my concentration span. It's not something I like telling most people I know in real life about, for two reasons. Firstly, they don't quite understand it, no matter how I put it to them, and secondly, my skills of elucidation seem to have taken a beating by this whole thing. I zoned again in Applied Mathematics today after all of 15 minutes. The 'zoned' feeling feels like I'd been given gills, and thrown in a pool the size of a never-ending abyss, after having been fed large amounts of tequila and barbituates, and will only hit on certain days, after I concentrate for a reasonable period of time. (in this case 15 minutes. It lasted longer than it took to get today)

The doctor believes it's a neuro-hormonal imbalance. I hope he's right. I just want the ability to put this episode behind me, because it's made me fall so far behind in certain subjects already. Maybe if I focus on my major and pull some pretty decent marks there, I can sweet talk my way around prereqs, if I have to. I don't want to though. I know I can pass all the other subjects if my body just allows me to concentrate properly. It's actually frightening how little control we have over our lives, to be honest.... Anyway, I've been given a script. Let's see where it puts me in a week from now. It could all be over by then.

This probably sounds all somewhat gloomy, but at the end of the day, it's not me being all down and gloomy. I've resigned myself to the fact that I have no control over my body in this sense. And, not that I know many people that read this blog, but all the same, if you bring this issue up, I'm going to tell you to fuck off. I have my reasons, and they're good ones.


Maths I semester test 2 in 3 hours. *sigh* Let's hope it goes well. Let's hope the last minute studying goes well, and that my concentration span doesn't give out on me, like it did on the weekend I set aside for the purpose of this. It's not that I'm unmotivated, it's that I'm incapable. And it's not that I'm ordinarily incapable either. This shit is easy, and I know it....

Although, I'd say this has taught me without a doubt the most valuable life lesson ever. It honestly has. It's not something I'm prepared to document here. Buy me a beer and I'll happily tell you. I think that regardless of who you are, or how you may know me, you'll appreciate the way in which I've summed up my thoughts on what I've been thinking lately.

Listening to: Frank Black - Ten Percenter and Frank Black - Hang On To Your Ego

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I'm probably going to walk into that semester test blind. So, wish me luck, since I'll need it. Love you all lots, in a non-homosexual way, of course. :D (at least, everyone that I know who knows about my blog, ie my friends. I believe that you all appreciate me, in spite of my eccentricities, yet care for me anyway, and that's what true friendship is about. That's one area of life where I've been truly blessed: the friends I've been allowed to make). Peace out. May life bring you whatever you wish out of it. And may you enjoy every experience you go through, no matter how fleeting. At the end of the day, you'll grow from it, and you'll come to cherish those memories, the memories of how you grew, and why, rather than the hardships you endured in growing.

I know I do, and I've only recently come to.

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Maybe Jacqueline was right when she said everything happens for a reason.

I want to spend more time with her, because I'm starting to care for her beyond all this physical teenage infant relationship bullshit, and I truly treasure our friendship. The reason behind me wanting to spend more time with her is that I can see she's really battling, and so dearly just wants someone to open her soul up to. She can't open up to Graham, (her boyfriend), and she can't quite open up to Greig anymore either. (I think she may have a crush on him)

She's already opened up so much to me though, and it'll make my month to be that person, the one she opens up further to. I feel like she's my sister, almost.

I believe it was Lord Byron who said something along the lines of, "The greatest friendships possible will develop between different gender friends, but only if the physical should never become a factor.".

4:46 am. I'm taking a break from my studies. My focus has gone, again. This time, however, I managed to get in two incredibly solid hours of studying, and in that small space of time, I've actually gained quite a large amount of respect for Mathematical Statistics. It's one helluva hardcore science. The very principles of probability and inferential statistics are actually so fucking well thought out that the subject itself becomes very interesting. You've got to big it up to the people that developed this shit. They were hardcore. Maybe they didn't get much pussy, but they were still hardcore. :D

I said that the Vicky saga was finished, but I was wrong. It isn't. I received a message from her shortly after I'd actually gone to bed, however, I don't intend to go into this in length now. I don't have a fuckload of time before I need to write my test, and the only reason I'm blogging is to give my mind a well deserved break while listening to some good music. So no Vicky. No females at all. :D Studying > females.

I'm also finally getting into the kind of routine that my course warrants, so that's also cool. Another thing to be cheerful about. I'm slowly getting on top of the work. Granted, I've fallen a month behind in Accounts (I don't know how people can do this shit for 7 years simply with a view to doing it for the rest of their working life), and about 3 weeks in Maths 1, but I've got sufficient time to make up what needs to be made up. At least I'm happy with where my major and Applied Maths courses are at this point in time.

At this point, I'm feeling so at peace with the world. I could fail my Stats test tomorrow, but it wouldn't phase me. There were circumstances beyond my control that hampered my ability to learn for this test. I'm referring to the concentration span problems I've been having. Whatever happens, I'm not phased. I'm happy with the progress I've made thus far, and if the trouble I'm having with regard to focussing on my course material continues, I guess it's just something I'm going to have to learn to deal with. No biggy. We all need to make sacrifices to achieve that which we truly want, and if I'm going to be hampered by problems of this sort, I'll just need to make the necessary sacrifices required to learn the material I need to know. Maybe I'll lose a few hours of sleep here and there, but the end justifies the means, not so?

At least I'm not stuck with the 20 minute attention span I suffered with last week anymore. I'm up to about 2 and 1/2 hours, which isn't bad. I can make do with 2 and 1/2 hours. Mind you, it's still cause for concern simply because I used to be able to focus for a good solid 6 hours at a time, but I'm seeing my specialist physician on Monday. So, obviously, this is a topic that, until Monday, shall be laid to rest.

Listening to: Nirvana - In Bloom

"I don't care, I'm so horny. That's ok, my will is good. Yeeaaah, yeah."

Right. More Stats 4TEHWIN!

- Wednesday 10 March - Edit: I was wrong. This seemingly isn't going to be the last post.

This is to be my last Vicky post. The final Vicky post. Ever. I have closure. Slightly depressing closure, but closure nonetheless.

Since she chose to ignore my very final bout of self-disclosure two weeks back, I decided to sever all contact on my side. Quite frankly, I just can't be bothered. And as such, I was a little loathe to see her at Varsity, since I, in all honesty, felt a bit hurt.

Today, however, I saw her sitting having coffee with Andréa and one of their other friends. I don't know what possessed me to go and talk to them, but I sure as hell wasn't going to be seen to not be the one with the balls. I have muchos grandé cojones, amigos.

So, what happened, is I walked in there, said hello, and was offered a seat, which I accepted. I basically just engaged them in chat. And the shit that came out of their mouthes, my fuck. I'd think I was their gay friend, the shit that came out. Stories of sexual encounters, stories of sexual fantasies, stories of how if Vicky had three weeks to live, she'd spend the whole time going around pulling into really hot guys. Now, I've been contemplating maybe doing this myself, simply because I can. Snog a chick, maybe fool around a bit, send her on her way, and chalk it up to alcohol. But I won't do this to myself.

I'm not that kind of person. There's a little hopeless romantic in me, and he's telling me that I'm meeting the kind of women right now that I could fall for, at University. I honestly get that opinion. And they're genuine. They're not concealing themselves behind a hatred of men and an apparent over-interest in physicality, thereby portraying themselves as shallow. These women seem somewhat scared of men, simply because they seem like they're worried that their hearts are going to get stood on by some random arb players that want to just fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

So, on the Vicky topic, for the final time. I'm over her. She's become the kind of woman I'd politely tell to fuck off, if she showed interest in me, and this saddens me a little. This isn't the person she once was. Not at all. She never used to be the kind of person to discuss sexual fantasies with male friends. She used to frown upon any idea of premarital sex. So, while I'm saddened by what she's become, she's intelligent enough to introspectively control the way she turns out. She has nothing to blame but herself.

At the end of the day, I have closure. I also still believe that women exist out there that have the same view towards relationships as I do. We'll see how much luck I have tracking them down.

There's something gravely wrong with my body, but I can't put my finger on it. It's nothing that's impairing me physically. Looks like I'm in for a ride. Fasten your seatbelts, return your chair to its upright resting position, and please await take-off.

Whee, Tammy, Sara, Colleen.... Who to ask out. I'm leaning towards Colleen. Worst case scenario, I ask one of the others out.

As much as I said and believe that it must be pretty obvious that a woman is interested in you if she "turns, faces you, smiles, and mouths" the lyrics to Marilyn Manson's Sweet Dreams cover, truth be told, I honestly didn't click on the night.... And let me tell you, that is something which I have down to a fine art. That, being the inate ability I possess to be absolutely fucking oblivious to any and every signal any interested party puts out regarding their feelings pertaining to me. This puzzles the living fuck out of me, since at the same time, I can also immediately tell if someone is interested in someone else, i.e. in one of my friends, and so on.

To boot, I'm not sure why, but I haven't been myself at all over the past week. If this incident had happened this week, I think I might've been a little quicker to pick up that she was interested. And this week I probably would've acted on it, whereas last week, even though I knew she was interested, (my man Rob pointed it out to me) I did nothing. Truthfully, I don't know what's different. It's almost as if I've completely devalued sentimentality. If I was in the same situation right now, I'd at the very least score her for a reasonable period of time. I doubt I'd take it to the point where I climb into bed with her, or anyone else, because I don't feel that's exactly worth it. Don't ask me why I don't. I don't know the answer to that. Essentially, if I have to analyze it, I'm feeling exactly like I did when I thought I was going insane, the only difference being I'm no longer concerned about what I get up to with any females, short of sticking things into them lest they get pregnant. This all seems rather fucked up, but it isn't stressing me much. A week ago, and it would've.


Certain things are dragging me down a bit. First of all, there's this blasted headache that I've had for about a week now which refuses to let up. Secondly, I'm having major trouble concentrating. It's not even a case of being distracted. Rather, it's a case of as soon as I concentrate for half an hour or so, I start feeling faint. And the feeling is so intense, it feels almost as if, should I be able to concentrate for long enough, I'd pass out completely. This is also the reason I'm refraining from taking headache pills. I'm thinking that the cause might be the fact that I've been taking way too many of these things lately.

And the feeling really is fucked up. I could liken it to the kind of feeling I think I'd get should I consume half a dozen shots of tequila on top of three sleeping pills. So, in a sense, I guess if I was to liken it to being hit by a metaphorical central-nervous-system-depressant truck, I wouldn't be far off the mark. I probably need to get myself checked out by a doctor, because this is ridiculous.

Women are also playing havoc with my mind. Not any in particular, mind you. It's more of a case of the whole aloneness-vs-loneliness argument. I've been alone for pretty much my entire life, but for the first time, I'm feeling lonely as well, and it really isn't very pleasant. This, coupled with the dizzy spells, is fucking me around like I cannot believe. I actually hate being human. I dislike the way my body is wired. I dislike the physical and mental imperfections I, like others, have. We really are such a fragile species. If we weren't sentient beings, I reckon we'd definitely be extinct by now.

Vicky's been out of my life for nine odd days now. I'm feeling an inner peace I haven't felt in ages, most likely not since I stepped up out of my chair in the middle of Sandton City after just having won myself a trip to Korea. I don't miss the insecurity, the uncertainty, the silent treatment....

Life is good. There are plenty of fish in the sea, as varsity proved to me. I've met so many women there that I'm interested in, and based on the signals I get, they're also interested. They're also probably far more down-to-earth than Vicky. I just need to make sure I don't fail while I meet and socialize with all these new people.

There was a lucky draw for a PS2 console Saturday night at The Doors, and I won it. All the issues that were in my life seem to have resolved themselves. Vicky is out of my life, through her own choice, and that's good, because it'll mean that my life won't get hit by the all-too-familiar hurricane Vicky anymore. No more disruption. And I don't give a fuck.

Anyhow, I've sold that PS2, and I'm going to use the money to purchase what Jian would definitely term a well-deserved upgrade. So at least I'll still be able to keep LANning with my friends, enjoying the type of games I enjoy. This put me into quite a good mood. So, as far as LANning and sociliazing with my LAN buddies go, I'm covered for another reasonable period, and this puts me in a pretty good mood.

I have an analogy that I use to describe the way I am when I drink. Basically, there are two me's. On the one hand, you have Karl, the man who's in charge most of the time, and on the other, you have Karlos, the happy-go-lucky mexican who is always fond of a good jol. All it takes for Karlos to come out, is a shot of Cuervo or two. Send down a shot of Cuervo, maybe old Cactus and old Jack as well, and they convince Karl to help them break Karlos out of prison. Send down more reinforcements, and Karlos will successfully escape. Subsequent to that, they all throw a big fucking party, and I walk around in a mindset that is far less tactless, far more uninhibited, far more enjoyable, really.

To get back to the topic of The Doors on Saturday, I had a good night last night, obviously. I won a PS2 console, 'nuff said. There was someone on the dance floor that was catching my eye last night, and I was in two minds. Her smoking was a bit of a put off, but I'm pretty sure if Karlos had've been properly sprung out of jail by that time (I was driving), I'd have said, "Fuck it.", and started dancing right up against her.

How did I know she was interested in me? Well, everyone is familiar with Marilyn Manson's cover of Sweet Dreams. A certain part of the lyrics go like so: "Everybody's looking for something. Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you. Some of them want to abuse you. Some of them want to be abused."

I think it's fairly safe to conclude that if a women turns, faces you, smiles, and mouths those lyrics while dancing right in front of you on a dance floor, it's indication enough that she's keen on you to at least some degree.

Listening to: Marilyn Manson - Sweet Dreams