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[Yoink]

Vector, I really don't know anything about this sort of stuff, but it sounds to me like the best approach might be the direct approach.
By that I mean, confront him on it the next time he glares at you. Just raise your eyebrows and go, "Problem?"

That should get all this stupid crap out into the open. He obviously knows he's doing it.
Ask him just why he's making things so awkward, it can't be any nicer for him than it is for you, and suggest just putting it all behind yourselves. Or something. I don't know, maybe if that doesn't work just beat some sense into him with your epic martial arts skillz.

Fakeedit: Or you could listen to these more worldly, sensible people, I guess... But c'mon, how can you pass up an opportunity for a martial-arts-ass-kicking?!

[Hanslanda]

I agree with Yoink, in that, if possible, you should spinning-roundhouse-face-kick this guy through a plate glass window if you can.

[Truean]

Look, how do you say "stop glaring at me pointedly when I'm sitting with your friends and walk by to the back of the room really, really slowly" or "stop going up to the cash register and asking if your order's ready yet if I happen to walk into the same cafe?"  It's ignoring with a mean edge attached to it.  Just plain ignoring is cool, I don't care.  This feels really weird.

I can't talk to him because the one time I did say hi, he flinched and looked... revolted.  I'm not talking to that dude.  It's not worth it.

He's doing this because I broke up with him and had irrevocable evidence that he'd done me wrong and kept doing me wrong despite my continued requests that he treat me differently.  Honestly, I try not to go "hey, that guy is just plain fucked up" the way I used to, but I'm having a hard time understanding why he's using exactly the same techniques as he does on people who are literally proven sexual predators.

.... I believe you may be too innocently generous to let yourself see what's really going on here:

He's just a jackass and this is an understatement.

You are what is today considered intelligent but it has bred into you an exploitable weakness that can be used by the perceptive jackass. You ask "why," in pretty much everything and your days in whatever varied form are spent trying to understand and answer "why."

Things concerning humanity often have no why; they simply are, or just happen.

Why did that man steal my car instead of all the other cars?
Why did that police officer pull me over for speeding instead of everybody else?

In your case, "Why is my ex being such a total jackass to me when that's so needless?"

He just is. There is no why, but you will keep looking for it despite it not being there.

"Why" in this case is a question you will probably never be able to answer and the more you think about it the more it will drive you mad. Thinking about the question will make you think about him and how he hurt you and is still hurting you.

Look, how do you say "stop glaring at me pointedly when I'm sitting with your friends and walk by to the back of the room really, really slowly" or "stop going up to the cash register and asking if your order's ready yet if I happen to walk into the same cafe?"  It's ignoring with a mean edge attached to it.  Just plain ignoring is cool, I don't care.  This feels really weird.

Place your little finger against that one critical spot in anything and it will fall to pieces.

He's doing it for your attention; he wants you to feel weird. Write him off as dead, because he is not worth your time. May his glares pass right through you without harm or ascribing meaning to them. Notice them, as you notice anything else in the background but give him no value. To hell with what he wants and especially to hell with what he wants you to feel. Carry mace in your purse in case he tries anything, but otherwise the thought of him isn't worthy to enter your mind.

Wish him away without a thought or a sound.

Simply, he is a troll. Do not feed.

[Vector]

Okay.  Thank you.

As I said, blaze of glory--I should be more specific--what I meant is that I feel like there's a fundamental misconcentration of my mental faculties, and that I'm using far too much brainpower on something that should not be thought of.  I could, instead, be translating novels, writing novels, watching movies, anything else... but I'm wasting my time with people, at times.

(Sometimes it's totally worth it to ask "why," because you learn something about what you should change)

I am doing better, though.  When my friend gave me the brushoff, I didn't wonder "why."  So I'll keep working on this one.

[Truean]

[hug] I do hope that helps.

[Hanslanda]

I wish I could speak another language fluently enough to translate writing. D:

[Pnx]

So anyway, two sads for me.

1. Class signup woes, signups for the summer semester starts on the 18th, but I'm really not sure what classes to sign up for. Math would typically be an easy pick, but because of various things I've been persuaded that this is a bad summer for me to take a math course. I'm sort of contemplating taking Drawing I, because learning to draw has been a big thing for me for a long time, and taking a drawing class might help me do that... but I'm sort of nervous about this considering I have absolutely no drawing skills whatsoever. I have no clue what I'm doing there, or what other classes I might take.

2. This thing I've been writing... I've sort of run into a block when it comes to a poem I'm inserting in there, I sort of think I've set myself up with a really tricky set parameters to fulfil with this crazy mixed alliterative/rhyme verse I'm doing. I'm finding it very difficult to put in something for these four lines that will match the story, but also be aesthetically pleasing... I dunno, I'm considering changing the style of the poem, or maybe just writing out the poem entirely in this case.

[Hanslanda]

I didn't go to prison today and somehow I'm still depressed. :/ I've been depressed now for like two or three months. I can handle a week or two of depression, but when it's prolonged like this, it's... Not good.

[kaijyuu]

Need me to drive across two states and give you a manhug, hans?

[MaximumZero]

Blurgh. I feel for you, Hans.

My sad seems very minor in comparison to everything, but here goes: I am taking American Literature, Science Fiction, Composition II, and Journalism and Mass Media. The lit classes are, for all intents and purposes, full of annoying, boring, pretentious bullshit to read, Composition has been less about writing and more about reading pretentious bullshit, and Journalism has been about...well, nothing, because the class is nothing but pure, unadulterated chaos. When there is a direction, we "learn" a little bit about advertising, with such activities as "make the boys pose like the girls in advertising to show them how objectified women are!" (Then I get yelled at for playing along, and then I get yelled at for cussing someone out because I actually know what it's like to be objectified. [Until you step in the ring wearing only a pair of spandex underwear with a few hundred to a couple thousand people screaming for blood, you really don't know what a piece of meat feels like.])

In short: I cannot wait for this semester to be over. It is full of blurgh.

[Hanslanda]

What I really need is some sort of motivation. I have none, whatsoever.
-Keep out of prison? Eh, prison isn't as bad as people make it out to be, I'd be out really fast too.
-Better my life? I'm happy with not having an amazingly successful life. I just want to be a normal person.
-Get a girl? Huge can of worms to open there.
-Follow my dreams? What dreams?

Blurgh. I feel for you, Hans.

My sad seems very minor in comparison to everything, but here goes: I am taking American Literature, Science Fiction, Composition II, and Journalism and Mass Media. The lit classes are, for all intents and purposes, full of annoying, boring, pretentious bullshit to read, Composition has been less about writing and more about reading pretentious bullshit, and Journalism has been about...well, nothing, because the class is nothing but pure, unadulterated chaos. When there is a direction, we "learn" a little bit about advertising, with such activities as "make the boys pose like the girls in advertising to show them how objectified women are!" (Then I get yelled at for playing along, and then I get yelled at for cussing someone out because I actually know what it's like to be objectified. [Until you step in the ring wearing only a pair of spandex underwear with a few hundred to a couple thousand people screaming for blood, you really don't know what a piece of meat feels like.])

In short: I cannot wait for this semester to be over. It is full of blurgh.

That's some shit right there. Writing is supposed to be the most creative form of expression available to man, but apparently it's supposed to be boring and pretentious in college.

[MaximumZero]

What I really need is some sort of motivation. I have none, whatsoever.
-Keep out of prison? Eh, prison isn't as bad as people make it out to be, I'd be out really fast too.
-Better my life? I'm happy with not having an amazingly successful life. I just want to be a normal person.
-Get a girl? Huge can of worms to open there.
-Follow my dreams? What dreams?

Blurgh. I feel for you, Hans.

My sad seems very minor in comparison to everything, but here goes: I am taking American Literature, Science Fiction, Composition II, and Journalism and Mass Media. The lit classes are, for all intents and purposes, full of annoying, boring, pretentious bullshit to read, Composition has been less about writing and more about reading pretentious bullshit, and Journalism has been about...well, nothing, because the class is nothing but pure, unadulterated chaos. When there is a direction, we "learn" a little bit about advertising, with such activities as "make the boys pose like the girls in advertising to show them how objectified women are!" (Then I get yelled at for playing along, and then I get yelled at for cussing someone out because I actually know what it's like to be objectified. [Until you step in the ring wearing only a pair of spandex underwear with a few hundred to a couple thousand people screaming for blood, you really don't know what a piece of meat feels like.])

In short: I cannot wait for this semester to be over. It is full of blurgh.

That's some shit right there. Writing is supposed to be the most creative form of expression available to man, but apparently it's supposed to be boring and pretentious in college.

Well, we could put two and two together and write a book: "The Shit that Hans and Max Did: You Won't Believe This Shit."

[Scelly9]

What I really need is some sort of motivation. I have none, whatsoever.
-Keep out of prison? Eh, prison isn't as bad as people make it out to be, I'd be out really fast too.
-Better my life? I'm happy with not having an amazingly successful life. I just want to be a normal person.
-Get a girl? Huge can of worms to open there.
-Follow my dreams? What dreams?

Blurgh. I feel for you, Hans.

My sad seems very minor in comparison to everything, but here goes: I am taking American Literature, Science Fiction, Composition II, and Journalism and Mass Media. The lit classes are, for all intents and purposes, full of annoying, boring, pretentious bullshit to read, Composition has been less about writing and more about reading pretentious bullshit, and Journalism has been about...well, nothing, because the class is nothing but pure, unadulterated chaos. When there is a direction, we "learn" a little bit about advertising, with such activities as "make the boys pose like the girls in advertising to show them how objectified women are!" (Then I get yelled at for playing along, and then I get yelled at for cussing someone out because I actually know what it's like to be objectified. [Until you step in the ring wearing only a pair of spandex underwear with a few hundred to a couple thousand people screaming for blood, you really don't know what a piece of meat feels like.])

In short: I cannot wait for this semester to be over. It is full of blurgh.

That's some shit right there. Writing is supposed to be the most creative form of expression available to man, but apparently it's supposed to be boring and pretentious in college.

Well, we could put two and two together and write a book: "The Shit that Hans and Max Did: You Won't Believe This Shit."

Best. Title. Ever.

[Xantalos]

Blurgh. I feel for you, Hans.

My sad seems very minor in comparison to everything, but here goes: I am taking American Literature, Science Fiction, Composition II, and Journalism and Mass Media. The lit classes are, for all intents and purposes, full of annoying, boring, pretentious bullshit to read, Composition has been less about writing and more about reading pretentious bullshit, and Journalism has been about...well, nothing, because the class is nothing but pure, unadulterated chaos. When there is a direction, we "learn" a little bit about advertising, with such activities as "make the boys pose like the girls in advertising to show them how objectified women are!" (Then I get yelled at for playing along, and then I get yelled at for cussing someone out because I actually know what it's like to be objectified. [Until you step in the ring wearing only a pair of spandex underwear with a few hundred to a couple thousand people screaming for blood, you really don't know what a piece of meat feels like.])

In short: I cannot wait for this semester to be over. It is full of blurgh.

High school is basically this, only less objectifying and more snotty books.
AND THEY CANCELED THE ONLY CREATIVE WRITING CLASS IN THE SCHOOL

[LordSlowpoke]

What I really need is some sort of motivation. I have none, whatsoever.
-Keep out of prison? Eh, prison isn't as bad as people make it out to be, I'd be out really fast too.
-Better my life? I'm happy with not having an amazingly successful life. I just want to be a normal person.
-Get a girl? Huge can of worms to open there.
-Follow my dreams? What dreams?

i'm just going to say i know this, mainly for lack of anything more useful to say.