I got 11 hours of sleep monday night and it's only wednesday and I'm already exhausted and I can't think someone help please help

I'm okay.

I've got a test in an hour that I should be studying for, but I work well only under the maximum possible degree of pressure, so I'm going to wait awhile. Just to get the point across, I'm going to waste five minutes staring at the cursor. There. Much better. Now that I've got even less time, I might be able to write an interesting post and have just enough time left over to just barely pass my test and just barely keep my scholarships. I'm self-destructive. Some day this is going catch up with me, and I hope nobody is depending on me when it happens.

There's a topic for discussion. Maybe everyone is psychic, or maybe everyone is just perceptive beyond what they convey. Maybe everyone secretly hates me, on top of those few people who openly hate me (although please don't think that my casual tone means that the thought doesn't bother me, I'll have my friends know that I care greatly what you think on those occasions when I know what that happens to be). The point is, for one reason or another, nobody depends on me in the very least.

"Maybe," my Kanjou says to my Risei, "they know that we can't be relied upon. Maybe we've let them down in the past and we just don't remember."
"Maybe you don't remember," replies the Risei. "I remember everything."
"Well then is that it?"
"I'm not telling you."
"You're such a pain in the ass. It's exactly that attitude that alienates us from our friends. This is why I'm so paranoid. I never know how we've been treating people when I'm not looking."
"Have you considered that maybe it's nothing personal, that we happen to have friends that don't need to depend on others?"
"That's simply not the case. They all seem to--"
"There's that word again."
"--trust and rely on one another so much. I feel left out."
"There you go feeling again. You should try thinking some day, we'd be better off."
"Stuff it."

Okay, that's not exactly how my mind works, but that is a small taste of one of my more primitive inner dialogues. I have this dire contrast between my life and my mission. My goal in life is to have a good family. Secondary to that is publishing my book and everything else that trails off into oblivion. Basically, my goal in life is to serve my family, my friends, my niche in life. It sounds paltry to those who have been ingrained with the sense of a greater destiny, but if you had good parents, consider them once as a guideline for success rather than a springboard to it. The point is, I have lost myself. I never had myself, I have only this goal and this illusion. I serve nothing. I freeload off of my friends and have nothing of value to offer in return. I'm condescending to the people who deserve it least. I do small and unsolicited favors to those for whom I would carry the world on my shoulders if they only asked.

The unanswered question is this: Do I push people away? Do I make myself seem untrustworthy or unreliable? Am I a token individual because people can't trust me or because I don't make myself available?

I have a different topic. When I write, especially lately, my goal seems to be the incitement of discussion. I choose topics that everyone could have one sort of opinion or another on, and topics specifically that don't apply just to me. I write about hanging around high school because all of us still have friends in high school, all of us can talk about the subject of hanging around. I know everyone has opinions, just bring Bruno up in a conversation and it derails like so many of my topics from their initial destinations. I talk about soap opera blogs because it's topical, because we all either follow events or specifically don't, and I know few people who don't have one opinion or another. I talk about 'the look' which applies to me, and then extend the topic unto listening in general, a topic with which, hopefully, all of us are acquainted. I feel silly whining about the lack of responses to my posts, but I'd like to carry writing a slightly different direction.

Why? Writing used to be a release, whether anyone was listening or not. Now, there is no release. "I couldn't cry, so once again, I couldn't sleep." I want to write as a means of discussion, of exchanging ideas, humor, poetry, life. I have smart friends, and so hopefully some smart people read this site, among whom I am certain there are some ideas to pass around. I suppose what I want to do is run a forum, but I don't have a forum. I have a blog, and I try to make the best of it.

I don't do very well on my own. We all know that for truth. I can't do this successfully alone. The goal doesn't allow me to succeed alone. I don't want anything alone, except perhaps silence, and fortunately that's the one thing I'm good at doing on my own.

I want to open this blog up to others. Comment. Leave your blogspot name. I'll give you posting access. If you don't want to, or don't feel you'd ever write, or simply aren't interested in anything I've ever posted, just leave me a note to talk to you about it. I hope that nobody reads this post without leaving a comment one way or the other.

This comes around to a theme I've noticed in my blog, Jill's, Jackie's, TJ's, and at least once in every other blog I've come across. Should we discuss things that are meaningful to us, or should we discuss the day's events sans emotion? I opt for the first choice. I don't get to talk to some people about what they really feel. I usually opt for the answer that there is simply no time, no means, rather than the alternative solution that they simply don't wish to confide anything in me. If you're reading this, I have confided in you, reluctantly but time and again. Do the same, give it a try, we'll see how it works out.

I've got a test in twenty minutes, and I really must go study. Fare thee well.