Well...

Blog. Such an odd word, to describe a public diary of someone's life. Take me, for example. Stephen Zuckerman, a sixteen year-old caucasian male from Dawsonville, Georgia. Simple, factual designations for what could be nearly anyone in the world. Names, apparently, rarely do a thing to describe what they label.

Blogs are as varied as people... Understandable, that, as it's people who create them. Each one, different, yet many show common themes. People run in veins, too, but none of that really matters.

This is my blog. Stephen Zuckerman... Sometimes known as Perrin, or Jonathan, or Jeyuu, or any host of other aliases. I'm known by people from all over the world, yet I could go to the bookstore I've shopped at for three years, and not see recognition in a single pair of eyes. Entire communities are familiar with my name, but not a single person in them could tell you why. Infamy coupled with anonymity... A state of limbo, that constantly catches me off-guard.

I've been through plenty of relationships. Romances, sexual flings, casual dating... Any variety one can name, but not a one of them has worked out very well. This latest, in particular.

I met her back in January of this year. She was funny, sexy, caring, and comforting. Energetic to an extreme, and a professional musician. I loved Carmen Jones very much, and couldn't get enough of the girl. We had hopes, plans, even, for our relationship to last forever, yet... Just like all the others, things soured. Lies, unfaithfulness, and a general splitting of life's goals and priorities. A difference in stances on life in general, and too many conflicts to name; far more than I'd like to recall. I broke up with her last week, and my life's been a bit less stressful ever since. I still love her, but I realize that I simply can't stand her. She's infuriating... Emotionally shallow, and clinically listed as violently psychotic.

I can't say I can argue with the doctors. She's done too much to her sister, who I'm good friends with, for me to even consider opposing thier diagnosis.

That same sister, TJ, I have actually been friends with for quite some time. She's an abuse victim, like most in that household, and I'm the one she comes to when she has the most trouble. I calm her down, and I'm happy to do it. Tabitha (TJ's not-yet-legal-but-still-real name) and I have lately become a bit closer than just friends, but she's not the type that I could get into a serious relationship with - She's too young yet, emotionally. Physically, she's quite a bit older than me, but... She's built up such complexes in her mind that it's too much of a labrynth for even me to navigate. I'm afraid that she'll always remain where she is, mentally, until she gets out of an environment where everything she sees is negative towards self-improvement. Where everything's buried in multiple standards, and there's not a single person who could be considered mentally healthy.

I really want to help her, but at the moment, there's nothing I can do. Seems to be that way with most people, but... Again, there isn't anything I can do. When there is, I'll rush off right away to do it, but... Damn.

Things are hectic, right now. I'm catching up in school, having to do an entire semeter's work in half the time, for three classes. I'm trying to start up a clan in RPGC's C/G that will help bring a bit of continuity to the place, that can't get more than a few inches off the ground before a project of someone else's is complete. I'm trying to balance the people in my life, from Sara, an ex-girlfriend who somehow remains a friend, who wants a physical element to our friendship, to TJ, who relies on me emotionally, to my family, which is falling apart at the seams.

Still, there's not much I can do but go on. There's this huge tension in my life, overlaying a profound calm. Hurry up and wait, Stephen. Right now, there's nothing that I'll do in my life but put it back on the track it should be. Nothing that will have a lasting effect, or that I'll even remember more than vaguely, twenty years down the line. It's a terribly lonely feeling, knowing that none of this will really matter, after a while. All of this effort, all of this scrabbling to get things done, all of it... Absorbed into the flow of time. I'm tempted to do something, to tear this train off of it's calm, unworried tracks. To impact my life so soundly that I'll not lose the vibrance, the pure living that the past four years have been.

But no... I can't. My life would find a way to absorb even something like that, and I've had my doubts as to whether it's even possible to end it entirely. I wouldn't want to, in any case. An aching hand is better than a numb one, but a numb hand is better than no hand at all. Best would simply be a hand, fully feeling, but... Well, time will tell.

I just have to wait, and listen.

12th Septembre, 2005.