Female Rejection.

I just helped someone take another, better option than suicide. I talked her out of it. I didn't even know her. My friend Diana, lives in Ireland, said she had a friend online that was about to commit ignorance of self-murder. i.e., suicide. She told me to call her, and gave me the number. Like.. Damn it. Why me? I'm not a nice guy. Why should I help out? I was in a jam, but did it anyway. Helped ease her into better thoughts, and pull away from suicide. Sounds like an awesome gal, just pushed into a rut at the moment. Either way. I hate being the hero. Fuck you, Superman.

God do I hate it. I realized a newer level of my disdain for change, as I read through posts made around livejournal by friends. Thoughts abound to elder days of roleplay and conversation. I miss those days. I'd give all of my Poser art, the hours of online gaming with Half-Life and it's mods, just to get a couple minutes of those days. My golden days weren't out at high school, wasn't out on some random escapade with friends. It was online. Roleplaying. Not quite sure if that is pathetic, strangely poetic, or just absurdly fucking pointless and maybe I need to stop being a geeky pussy.