why stay when no one wants you

I am sorry for not being a very good friend
because
after you have ranted to me
I try to say nice things
I try to sympathize
I try to empathize
but my own troubles are at the forefront of my mind and so
I am sorry for not really being there for you
forgive me,
but I'd almost rather be in your place than mine.

I ranted back to you
and tried to get it all off my chest
but I'm afraid that you didn't understand fully
you don't get it when I say "awkward" I really mean
something is missing, and without that something
everything between us in nothing.
I have the strangest urge to laugh and cry at the same time, to hate you and like you at the same time.

I wish people wouldn't keep bringing it up
I wish people wouldn't keep reminding me of it
I wish people would leave me alone
when was the last time I had a conversation with one of you without someone's name popping up within a few minutes?
It's irritating, it's annoying, it's not what I'm friends with any of you for.
And I would appreciate it if all of you people could see that I am uncomfortable, that I hate it when you keep talking about the same person, that I want to slap all of you across the face and get some new friends.
It's not that easy, of course.
So I stay with you, and stay silent while you laugh at me, and resist the urge to break your nose.

and I am also
wondering whether it is possible to forget everything
and start over.
The proverbial 'blank slate'.
I would like that very much
and maybe because of that
Life won't let it happen.
@_@

Nevermind,
I will go
bring Kafka on the Shore (by Haruki Murakami) upstairs
and read in bed
read about all the grotesque, weird happenings that happen to Kafka Tamura, Nakata and his cats, Sakura, Miss Saeki --
read until I am too tired to remember and too tired to fall asleep.
I don't dream anymore, but on the strange occasions that I do it's always a happy dream. A happy dream, but I can never remember it. I'm just left with this content, horribly unsatisfied feeling. And when I try to follow that thread of a feeling, it snaps gently in my mind's hand.

Today I said, out loud, almost without realizing it
that I wanted to die
without feeling any enmity
or hatred
or bitterness
just a faint point of view.
and Albert turned and gave me a weird look
and asked me why
and all I could say was, they look so peaceful
and cold.
corpses, that is. And if we all die, sooner or later
(ashes to ashes, dust to dust)
why not sooner rather than later?