My middle finger hurts

The left one with the peace sign ring. I've been wearing this ring since last Christmas and haven't taken it off once. The ring of the other middle finger was my grandma's class ring. I never wanted a class ring and didn't get one either. But maybe I should have, so I could have given it to someone who I thought would like it - how selfish is that?

It is incredibly insane how we all make such stars out of people, out of ourselves for other people. It is interesting to see first impressions go down the drain, and the more you get to know someone the less you actually begin to like them... Are we/ I so lonely that we keep this up? Is there anyone else on your mind, in your eyes? Well, there is for me, and they are all out of reach, of course with time, there is potential for blooming, but time is just one of those things I don't seem to have... You are, of course, in hindsight. I love the definition of hindsight in my iDictionary - In hindsight, I should have never gone. And I shouldn't have. Here we are, back with time. I can call this or that person, but why? The outcome is the same if I just stayed home and read or wrote till I fell asleep. I could also get drunk and hang out with these faces which become blurred after a moment, and the outcome is the same: I wake up the next morning with no valid memories of the day before, and I continue on this path, not noticing that there is a wall or cliff or bump in front of me until I run into it face first. Hindsight.

I feel so guilty about some things (my finger really hurts). Mostly about the things I didn't let happen or the things that I have forced, or the things that I expected and in turn was disappointed. I feel so guilty about things that the only cure/distraction is to leave - AGAIN - start over fresh, like I never knew who I was before, and I don't, didn't, and will not. This will continue forever!

What do you know?
I know nothing, not matter how much I learn, I will still have no grasp on anything, everything, the let overs.
No matter how much I do or don't do, I'll never know. If I choose to be a crack head for years, I'll have lost those years. LOSING YEARS! I've already lost two or something. But I could have been in AFrica or Europe, but if I was there, I could have been here, being less selfish. But now I'm here, being a selfish fucking person. And they'll, my family, will never understand me so matter how much I fucking try. I feel numb right now, after work. Having to stay an extra 15 dreaded minutes, and you're getting off right now. And we're doing nothing but thinking and wishing. All the time, that's all I do, is think, wish, repeat.

"I had that dream about you again, where I stayed outside until you let me in"