Just a facade

Life’s going well. Too well actually. That bothers me
Well, not too well. Grades are okay, but there’s something about my friends.
They’re okay, they’re cool, they’re fun, whatever. We hang out and we have a good time, but I’m starting to feel that I am alone in spite of having lots of friends.
Last year I had “something” with a girl and it ended badly. A few months ago I apologised and everything is okay now. Before doing that, it was awkward and I thought she hated me.
This year, I started talking to more people. It went well actually, made a bunch of new friends, but I still have no close friends.
The weird thing is that there are three or four people that think I’m their best friend. One is a good person but sometimes he’s completely idiotic and I want to punch him in the face. No, wait, make that two. The other one is a girl that has waaay too many problems and I don’t have any problem with her telling them to me, because I occasionally give her advice, but I can’t tell her my problems because she would be much worse.
So, in the present, I can only see bad things in people. I can have a good time, but when I’m alone and I start to think about them I think of their bad aspects.
But I didn’t use to be that way.
You see, people started telling me bad things of others. And those ideas got stuck in my head. Let’s say person A despises person C and person B doesn’t like something about A.
Person A tells me what he thinks, and so does B and C. Now every time I think of A or C I can only think of what I’ve been told of them, what they have done or what they are.

Last year I liked a girl that I considered my best female friend. But I didn’t do anything since I knew she didn’t feel the same.
It turns out she’s quite proud of herself (I mean really proud, she’s also arrogant).She seems to also have bad opinions of everyone. Yet she spends all the time with her friends. I can’t believe how people do that. And it’s not only her, it appears to me that everyone is like that: fake. You could have a really good time with someone, yet it wouldn’t mean anything. How can I be friends with people knowing that they might hate me? How do I know if someone hates me? When do you *really* get to know each other?

As an example, I’ll mention the case of the girl who thinks I’m her best friend. A month and a half ago she and I talked a lot, she shared her problems and I, mine. We talked about lots of stuff. But now something has changed and I only think bad things about her. Yet she still wants to talk to me. In this situation, I am the person who thinks bad of the other, and that person thinks good things about me.

I mean, I know appearances can be deceiving, but come on! The other day, this guy was tickling the girl I liked last year. He hates her, yet he was tickling her, laughing, and receiving tickles too.

Here’s a scrap of something I did while bored. Not much sense in it actually.It’s just so this blog isn’t short.

My neighbour and I are the only people left in the building. He’s an inconsiderate bastard who last week, at three in the morning, started to make lots of noise with a drill. The sound pierced my ears. He lives downstairs, right below my apartment.
Even though I am unemployed and didn’t have to do anything the following day, I hate being woken up in the middle of the night. I considered calling the police or even going to his door and tell him to go fuck himself. But that wouldn’t be fun, would it?
I booted my computer, calmly turned on the sound system, pointed the subwoofers at the floor and started looked for the songs with the lowest frequencies. I found the perfect one, it was an underground dubstep song. I disconnected the other speakers and turned every volume control to 100%.
I clicked ‘Play’.
BAM! My room and his roof were vibrating, it seemed like an earthquake. I could feel the sound waves travelling through the floor, to my feet and through my entire body.
I could hear the drill, the bass, and my laughter. Somehow the whole situation was really funny.
Ten minutes after, the song had ended. He continued to make noise like nothing ever happened. I waited another twenty minutes before I decided to go to his door.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
The creaking door opened slowly and a horrible-looking, short, old man with a gray face and lots of wrinkles appeared from the darkness. It was the first time I had seen him in 10 years.
‘Y-yes?’ he whispered in a slow, stuttering voice.
Suddenly all the anger I had disappeared. I had knocked the doors with the intent of finding a middle aged white man and insulting him.
There was a short pause.
‘Hey, I was wondering if you could stop drilling your ceiling. I’m trying to sleep’
‘But I’m not using a drill’
‘Then who is?’
‘I didn’t hear anything except for knocks on my door.’
‘Oh, well, okay. Sorry for that. Good night.’
His eyes gently closed and he closed the door.
So, well, I was confused and I was still hearing noises. I went to my apartment, left my keys on the table, and changed back into my pajamas. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I tried to determine where the noise was coming from, but I couldn’t. I tried using my noise-cancelling headphones on, but I could hear it still.
The clock struck 5 am.
I got up, put on my jeans, my jacket and my vans. I went out for a walk. The second I left the building my ears shut off. Not really, but the noise abruptly stopped. I went to the bridge and threw a few rocks at the river. I returned home around 7 am since I was getting cold. The sun wasn’t out yet.
But there was no sound.