Anyone Listening?

Sometimes I feel like I have no one to talk to. To whom I can talk. I hate that. One one hand, I hate it because I know it's not true. On the other, it makes me feel really lonely. I don't even know where this feeling comes from. From where it comes. Maybe it comes from the same place as that feeling that I have absolutely nothing to wear. Is it boredom? Restlessness? Discontent? General insanity? It's like that feeling where you don't want to go home, but you don't know why, and you have nowhere else to go. But I fantasize about it anyway; I'm driving home from work and just keep going up the interstate (or freeway, as they're apparently called out here) until it feels right to stop. But then what? Being realistic really sucks sometimes. Because then the fantasy disintigrates into the banality of Where would I stay? What would I do? How would I get to class on time tomorrow? What about my roommates (they would be worried)? What if I didn't like it where I went? And that sucks. These are the troubles with fantasies; they are difficult to continue when you obliterate them with ridiculous logic. Don't get me wrong, I have a rich and vivid fantasy life. It just depresses me when I destroy them instead of letting them live where they like. They are dangerous sometimes when they accidentally turn into hope, and then they don't materialize because they were never meant to in the first place. Nothing is worse than disappointment, disillusion, and despair.
Anyway, I'm off my subject. If I did feel like I had someone to talk to, would I even have anything to say? Lately I've taken to rattling on about nothing while some poor soul is forced to feign interest and wish they were somewhere else. I don't want to be boring. I want to be fun and exciting and witty. I want people to eagerly await the next verbal encounter they have with me instead of hope they'll be able to keep it short. Nothing is worse than being a boorish windbag. And I can see it when their eyes glaze over and their uh-huh's and mm's become less and less frequent. They start looking at the nearest clock or watching people pass by, hoping someone will be able to rescue them. And I'm too fucking stupid to just shut up. Some mechanism in my head insists that everything be expunged onto some poor innocent bystander. God I hate that. So this is my (late) birthday resolution: I will try to talk less. I will try not to bore people. I will try to say things that are prudent or important instead of extraneous or tedious. Maybe then I won't feel like no one wants to listen.