I know what I'm not, but not what I am.

He makes new friends.
His new friends tell him very personal, probably-should-be-kept-private stories.
One friend gets philosophical and makes James contemplate some heavy stuff (which makes the consumption of more alcohol very necessary).
Another new friend (straight) repeatedly kisses James on the hand and top of the head (which is both a tad awkward and amusing).
Same friend continues to make remarks about how James’s date at the bar is much more attractive than James but thinks he makes it better by reassuring James that he’s a good guy and his date doesn’t deserve him anyway.
He doesn’t need to hear strangers point out his insecurities/shortcomings (especially while intoxicated).
His very existence apparently angers homophobic strangers at the bar who then threaten James’s new friends.
The night ends with James feeling heavy-headed, guilty, undesirable, confused, regretful, etc. 

This is (all) why James doesn’t go out very often… 

I’m beginning to wonder if my life will contain any more milestones. Or events that I look forward to as “milestones” but turn out to be utterly underwhelming in hindsight.
I keep hearing/seeing things about people graduating from college, and I look back on last year and think of how excited I was, how proud of myself and how much I believed I had to look forward to.
Then I realize that I’m sitting at home on a Saturday evening with my Taco Bell and my Netflix and my nobody to call because I haven’t got that many friends anymore, and it doesn’t matter anyway because I’m too tired after working my awesome Starbucks job. But I’m not so much physically tired as I am emotionally/mentally drained from all this damned thinking I’ve been doing and from realizing that it doesn’t matter how much I work or how much I think, because my life isn’t moving forward.
I’m stuck. I’m stagnant. Because I’ve lost sight of any kind of bright future with a job I actually enjoy or a place that I love living in or a person I feel connected to so much that I don’t constantly crave attention.
Bright spots are few and far between these days, and I put forth effort and have moments of warmth and fuzziness, but they’re so bogged down by the waiting and the worrying that I make myself so unhappy by the end of the day.
It’s my fault.
I’ve tried to allow someone else to give me a reason to hope, but of course that’s unfair. I am twenty-three years old as fuck. 
There are days I contemplate an escape, but then I remind myself that the $8.50/hour I’m raking in isn’t leaving me room to save, and I’m always willfully ignorant of my bank account’s balance, because I know there’s only enough to cover the next round of bills and rent.
I’m positive I shouldn’t be airing all of this on this poor blog, but it’s all I’ve got to say, and I haven’t picked up a pen to write anything more than my signature in months.
You’ve known this was me all along though, right? 

File the events of last night under: “Things I will only talk about, a) when intoxicated, or b) when I finally start going to therapy.”

…inconsiderate. Lately at work, I’ve dealt with so much hostility and misplaced anger (coming from customers), that it’s had a major effect on my mood. I’ve said “I’m sorry” so many times, I do it now without even realizing (or meaning) it. I’ve actually teared up a couple of times, because I’ve been so worn down, emotionally, by these people. I’m trying to hold myself together.

…wonderful. My parents, my roommate, some new friends, and a few old ones have really made my time away from work so fun/relaxing/rejuvenating lately. Sometimes all it takes is the sound of a person’s voice, a smile, their presence in a room with me to alter my melancholy mood. I appreciate the people who listen to me, laugh with me, and share moments with me that I can remember when I’m feeling blah.

…confusing. Of course, I realize I fall into all of these categories. I tend to replay each day in my head as I lie in bed at night, trying to recall the reasoning behind various actions of my own and those around me. The problem is, none of it ever makes sense. And thinking about all of it only compounds the frustration I feel. I guess I realize more and more how many decisions we all make on the spur of the moment, because we have no choice. But all that action results in reaction, and so often we continue on our way without ever knowing the impact (major or minor) we’ve made on other’s lives.

…necessary. Even though, sometimes, they make life extremely difficult.