The inner cold, heartless bastard

Exams fast approaching. One, English, on tuesday. The other, Chemistry, friday. Truth be told, I'm not particularly worried about either of them.
Summatives are done. English handed in, Media Arts pretty much finished, Lit done and submitted, Chemistry finished yesterday in class. The year is nearly over.
And yet... I don't know. I'm not really apprehensive. I don't feel much of anything at the moment. To be honest, I don't really feel anything. At all.

If I know that I'm acting strangely, does that mean it's intentional?

I'm in a dangerous state of mind lately. The other day I asked a girl out. It was one of those if-you-don't-do-this-now-you'll-never-get-another-chance moments. Of course, she's already got someone. No hard feelings. I don't really know what I'd have done if she'd said yes... Ah well. She's nice, and all. Probably doesn't need someone like me in her life.
It does stir some things about, though. Not up, just about. Some part of me still craves, no, demands attention. I want to be part of someone's life. I want to matter to someone. I wonder how much of this is just my hunger impulse. Well, I won't give in to it. An I continue to blog about feeling empty inside, so be it.

My mother once asked me to describe how I was really feeling. I said words didn't exist to say it. She said I'm creative, put words together. I told her it felt like there were purple insects eating my brain from the inside. She asked me why purple. If you have to ask, you'll never know, I thought. But I didn't dare say it. People don't get it.

I dreamed I found a baby septapus. (An octopus with seven legs, that is.) I cradled it in my hands and tried to find a home for it. Even when by all signs it should have been dead I kept carrying it. Its tiny, unseeing eyes drove me forward. I fought past the people who didn't seem to care, found that those who said they would care for it simply left it as they found it, ran down a hall of full aquariums as it shriveled in my arms. I wonder if I was able to save it. That I don't remember. It doesn't seem likely, does it?

Song I'm obsessed with of the month: Straight, by Amanda Palmer. It seems to suit me. Except I'm not female.
I sat down awhile ago and had a good think about my overall identity. I decided that I'm not gay and I'm not transgendered, though I do have a lot of feminine characteristics. I'm male and I (generally) like girls and that's the way it's likely to stay. But sometimes, when things get difficult, I really wish I'd been born a girl. The world would just make so much more sense that way.