Sometimes I feel as though I'm seeing the world through the lenses and filters of a camera. They're constantly changing the light and colours I see in my perception, so much that the world I'm in doesn't even feel like it's happening, as if I'm just watching. The mundane things I barely remember, like the film itself has been exposed. And the people I meet are always bathed in this soft light, just... characters who I know can think and feel, but aren't real enough to touch. When I'm gone, they disappear into the fade until the camera ever picks them up again.
And I'm not there. There's a man who's speaking, who's acting, but he's not me; I am gone some other where. But when things are quiet, and I stop thinking just long enough to look, I can see it all at once. Pulled back into the distance, just barely aware of the misty fog and silvery strands that cover everything, it's so beautiful. Hauntingly beautiful. Lost in that moment is the only time I seem to really exist; pressing my hand to the glass, trying to pass into it, and willing the ghost world to flow through me.
post a comment
When a person doesn't believe in fate or destiny, the question "why am I here?" becomes suddenly and uncomfortably complicated. When people die young, die senselessly, die without ever living, the idea that everything happens for a reason, or that we exist for a reason, loses so much of its ground. A person cannot possibly be born and die only to serve as a test to you; you and I are simply not that important. The world continues to move along without them, as it will continue to move along without you or me. It almost seems as if nihilism is the only adequate response to the nature of reality, the "unberable lightness of being." People die, as adults, as children, as parents, brothers, sisters and friends, and there is simply nothing you can do to stop it.
But if there is nothing you can do to stop death, couldn't you also say there's nothing you can do to stop life? It is knowing that which provides me with the sense of comfort that a "meaning" is supposed to. Meanings are meaningless; I have lived twenty-one years without one, and I may live twenty-one more before I find anything that applies. Knowing simply that life will keep going, that is what I think the origin of hope is.
We all face rejection, every one of us, in just about every facet of our lives. The ability to deal with rejection is the same - you don't believe in the fated encounter, you believe that you can win. You know that you can win, you have sampled the taste of victory, and that is so much better than simply believing it, holding yourself up with some fallacy. An entire life spent failing, spent losing, spent running has never equipped me to handle rejection well. All I believe is what I know is going to happen, and the confidence in being accepted is just a veneer, all this broken glass glued back together and polished.
All that polish can't hide cracks, and I can see through me, knowing when they're showing. Sometimes the glass is invisble, sometimes murky, and sometimes even tinted by hues and colours that well up inside me. Ever so rarely, it's reflective, showing the person that I want to be, that I know I'm supposed to be. I am the reflection of him, the one who's grown up, the one who's achieved the poise and the practice and the experience, surrounded by the people he chose to include. I am the reflection because although I can imagine him as me, I can't imagine how I can reach him. The glass creaks as I fight to move it, rocking backwards and forwards, straining, reaching - awkward and haphazard. And it is always when I can start to feel it warming up, as if my flesh is finally about to break out from the mirror... something happens. And I am shattered. And I return to Stage 1:1 to glue everything back together, lost count of the times.
I want to grow up. I'm tired of these teenaged desires. I'm tired of having to relive them. Just once, I want to know what it's like to be that man, the one who got what he wanted.
It's nobody's fault that glass is brittle, but it's light. So unbearably light. And in all this lightness life just keeps on going. I will keep on going. Without the sense of touch or taste, I will keep on going.
post a comment
I've really got to switch the albums I have on my iPod. I mean, as much as Funeral is my most favouriteist thing in the whole, wide world, I can recite all the lyrics backwards and forwards at this point. In French. That's the problem with having a nano, (and a very old nano at that) you constantly have to swap out new playlists or things get stale pretty fast. 400 songs seems like a lot, but it really does not take long at all to get bored of a playlist.
post a comment
I haven't felt like updating. I mean, it's not like there aren't things to be discussed, I just don't want to discuss them through only myself. I seriously put myself through the wringer last week, and I'm not even sure why - nobody really needed to listen to my self-depreciating nonsense, anyway, but thanks to the people I made suffer through it regardless. I just... feel really lonely sometimes, especially when my self-confidence gets knocked down. I'm incredibly, really; I can inflate my ego and self-worth to almost monolithic proportions with little more than bravado, but it all hangs by such a tiny thread. Even the slightest breeze risks unthethering it.
I guess the thing I still fight with is the fact even when I'm presented with opportunities to strengthen friendships and opportunities to create better new ones, I slink away for pathalogical reasons I don't even understand anymore. I have got to break them or I will drive myself to the brink - I mean, I'm almost twenty-one, for chrissakes. It's time to move on from all the things that destroyed me in my early teens.
So I haven't really been listening to any new music lately, per se, but I hav rediscovered my passion for classical and renewed my on-and-off curiosity with opera. A few years ago my mom picked up some Libretto's to a few famous operas at a garage sale, and (of course) Madama Butterfly was one of them. I finally went and found a version of the opera a few days ago (The... 1957, I think, Anna Moffo version, which is apparently not all that revered, but it'll do.) I followed about the first act of the opera with the libretto, and I can't think of much else to say other than the fact it's fucking amazing. I've always entertained the fantasy of going on a ridiculous classy date to the opera, but first I need to find a woman who doesn't completely despise the idea. There's always a catch...
Academia is an unyielding success. I am becoming bored. Boredom is the worst thing that can ever possibly happen to me - and everybody else around me. Life better get interesting soon or I start to do things about it. And those are inevitably reckless and irresponsible ideas.
post a comment
I can't believe how utterly useless I've felt for the past two weeks. To be perfectly honest, spring break was an utter waste of my time, and the week that's followed hasn't done a whole lot better. I mean, yeah, I got my haircut and my shopping done, so "two outta' three ain't bad," but I just feel so psychologically wrecked and I'm having a bit of trouble really grasping "why." It's really not the attitude I want to be prevailing for the start of spring, although I guess the start of spring, weather-wise, has been a bit slow in coming.
School is: satisfactory. I got another math unit exam back this morning for my second 92 in a row, which is a nice confidence boost. Hooray, I can do grade seven math! Take THAT, twelve-year-old self! I'd feel less humiliated if I wasn't actually learning so much, ironically enough.
I guess my problem right now is all spiritual and philosophical. I mean, I did a reasonable amount of the "hanging out" over the last two weeks, and I just... I'm not feeling it. There's no worse feeling than going to a club and feeling simultaneously claustrophobic (because of all the people) and lonely (despite all the people.) I don't quite understand why I struggle so hard with approaching people I don't know, and trying to better bridge the gap between the people I've already met. My friend Tom once mentioned to me that he was utterly confounded by the fact he was a social genius only when he existed in lower Manhattan, but an awkward, nerdy outcast everywhere else. I kind of feel something like that, but it really only applies to work (and to a much smaller extent, school;) how embarassing that I only seem completely okay with myself in the confines of a grocery store where no attractive people work.
There's a girl who rides the same bus as me in the morning and afternoon; she isn't always on the same bus as me, and in fact she disappeared for a few weeks until I saw her again on Monday. She looked at me when I sat next to her, and then started drawing, as if she was waiting for me to say something. Just seeing her again satisfied me for the day. I'm hopeless.
all i want in life's a little bit of love to take the pain away
There's something uniqely hilarious about a math based webcomic, probably because there's nothing surprisingly clever about math. I mean, it's mathmatics. It's clever by it's very definition, wouldn't you say?
post a comment
It looks like this is going to be another evening spent largely awake by myself, struggling to get anything accomplished. So I've decided that since I'm thinking about it, I might as well get something accomplished (yes, I'm still on about that. I haven't been the most religious about enforcing it, but I am still there.) Assuming I can find a decent, non-shitty RSS reader, I'm going to try and collect my ever-increasing blog roll into a more manageable format. LJ definitely isn't the best format for a "serious" blog, and this definitely is not a serious blog, but like someone else I know did, I'm sort of thinking of branching out into legitimate blogitude to keep me busy. Excluding the last couple of weeks, I think I've been pretty solid about updating this, especially considering 99% of the material is personal and not project-related, which isn't always conductive to constant entry production.
I've been meaning to bug another friend of mine about the sports blog idea he mentioned to me a little while ago. That seems like a really hot idea and he's just about the only person I know who'd follow through on a consistent blog.
Hold on, I think my pizza is nearly reheated.
Yeah, I can't eat leftovers cold. Anyway, I wouldn't say I have a rigidly defined plan for the evening, but it definitely should include something vaguely new or productive, up to and including doing some cleaning that I've been meaning to for the last several weeks. Really, I expected that I would spend most of my spring break time sleeping, but I had assembled a to-do list prior to this week that consisted of three or four things I considered essential to the week being a success. Clean up, get a haircut, do some shopping. Coupled with a long list of other "non-essential" things I'd like to do before Monday (have a party, have another party, listen to all the albums on my albums to listen to list, finish the four anime series I started, finish the webcomics I started, get my car running, do some drawing, etc etc etc) and the fact I've actually got a few "enrichment" checkmarks knocked off, as long as I can get those other three things done, I think I'll be satisfied.
You see, this is why I could never do the list thing. When I actually make a list, it demonstrates how I want to do fifteen thousand things at once in every different direction.
you got me on my knees
With my first free week ahead of me in what seems like generations, I have a million things I'd like to do, a million things on my plate and, in all likelyhood, a million hours of sleep that will be caught up on instead. It would be deeply unfortunate to waste spring break doing as little as possible (that's why summer's were invented, after all), but I'm not going to dillude myself into believeing I'll get everything I want out of the next seven days. Just the same, I should damn well try.
post a comment
Things actually started out pretty well (for myself, at least) Saturday night/Sunday morning, as my dear friend Devon celebrated his nineteenth birthday. As a man definitely lacking command and organizational skills, you can expect how drunken celebrations generally turn out at his place. By the time I showed up at 11pm, there were not one, but two people as drunk as I have ever seen them, and I was rewarded with being able to play maid, nurse and nanny after the inevitable stomach fireworks. Honestly, I don't mind, since I myself kept going in between cleaning blood out of the carpet and checking on my charges; it's something of a point of pride that I have to be the one who keeps things in order among my friends, because that means I'm the one who can handle his shit.
I hang out with this particular "crew" fairly often, and it's one of those cases where everybody there are the friends of my friend, but not really my own friends. I don't mind them, per se, but they're not really people I fit in with. I appreciate the ability of alcohol to equalize on this front - when you're drunk, everybody gets to be your peer group. I did, however, have the pleasure of meeting one of Devon's friends I was rather impressed by, a fellow by the name of Justin that he hasn't spoken of in glowing terms. I can understand why, probably because he's the sort of general delinquent who exists on the edge of Devon's comfort zone for people he's friends with. It worries me - not a whole lot, but it still tweaks a bit in my mind - that it's the fringe guys he knows I get along with so much better; due in no small part, of course, because he had some pretty wicked bud, too. As I get older, I really do find myself a lot more comfortable around that outside edge, and I think the only thing that makes me worry is that I never imagined that happening. I know it's just my irresponsible hedonism acting up, but goddamn. I like the outside edge.
They say that as a person, that is to say, our personalities, don't stop developing until about twenty-five. They also say that our judgement is the last part of psyche to be fully-formed. Additionally, once it has, the person you've become stays pretty constant from that point on. I believe that, mostly because I've experienced probably the most radical shift in my judgement I've ever had over the last two-three years. Knowing that, I can't help but be curious to know if my increasingly erratic state of mind is a latent thing that I repressed during all the time I kept to myself, is an allergic reaction to the massive amounts of new stimuli in my life, or is just how I would have developed if I had gone to high school. I always imagined that if I had done that, I would be a completely different person than I am now... but I'm actually not entierly sure anymore. I suspect the answer is that it's a combination of all three ideas, and the real question is whether or not it's permanent, or just a brief retort to years of ennui. Either way, I enjoy the way it affords me the chance to be a better raconteur, if nothing else.
you and i must fight to survive
Fucking colds. I picked up one over the weekend not unlike you would shop for groceries; in fact, I'm fairly certain I caught it from people who were shopping for groceries. Outstanding. To use a technical term, I'd say it's pretty much "killed the fuck" out of me over the last couple of days.
post a comment
Maybe I've just lost my touch over the last few weeks, but I can scarcely bring myself to blog at all. Even though life has been a little touch-and-go lately, I just haven't felt anything worth talking about. I did have a little episode the other day, but I don't really want to talk about that. I made one logical argument to myself and my perfect tantrum wound down at almost record speed. It was... disappointing, to be honest. I don't like being done with being angry until I've completely satisfied myself.
I brought a journal (that is, an actual paper journal) to school with me to try and break out of the LJ slump. I'm finding that it's increasingly difficult for me to focus on things when I'm at home, because the second I step through the door I'm instantly ensnared by waves of exhaustion. The real truth is probably that I'm far too comfortable at home and I let my guard down, so I rarely feel the motivation needed to get any work done. This is why I stay after school or go somewhere else if I really need to do something - as long as I'm out, I feel the need to justify being out. Once I'm home, I don't want to do anything; usually, I just end up wanting to sleep. Anyway, I haven't really recorded any relevant thoughts into it, but I have done a bit of story sketching for something I was working on in November. A particularly absurd and off the cuff NaNo project that I became particularly fond of over time - of course, like so much of my stuff, I probably won't get around to writing it until I can figure out what the stupid plot is supposed to be. Then again... maybe this one doesn't really need it.
You can tell when I'm forcing writing because it looks something like this, completely lacking cohesion. I like to think I have a ridiculously good sense of composition, and when it's on the words flow like they're on tap. I think I'm just so mentally preoccupied with (still) one or two overriding things that I grow pale in their shadow. I have mentioned many times before that I have to go in every direction at once, but when something stops working, and it's too important to let it slide, it becomes a monstrous sort of thing that I lose control of and let smother everything else. My social concerns have lessed somewhat, but I'm getting increasingly worried about my finances, since everything I want to do hinges on my finances. Let's add in the fact I don't know precisely what's going to happen after I'm done upgrading: By the end of this term I need to know whether or not I'm going to leave Alberta for university, and if I am, where am I going to go? I have some sketchy details, but with the money, math and time concerns, it becomes twisted and complicated. Formulating a plan out of this, along with everything else I want to do before the summer comes, leaves me feeling among the walking dead. It doesn't help me that the last few months of my life seem about as real as zombies, either.
imma tell you like you told me
I just had some cake. It was pretty good cake, I have to say. Feel free to make your own jokes here; I know there are potentially thousands of decent-to-good cake-related punchlines.
post a comment
No, my computer didn't break again, I just haven't felt like writing anything related to a blog recently, as unusual as that honestly sounds. I suppose this is how most blogs end up going south, but here I am, paddling against the tide in an effort to avoid being swept out into the middle of the ocean to starve to death. On the bright side, I'm actually conscious of my predicament this time around. I think, for the most part, the fact that this week has given me virtually nothing to write home about and the long weekend has resulted in basically nothing I really wanted to do getting accomplished means I don't want to share any thrilling new discoveries with anybody in lieu of this. Ooh, I really hate work. Aah, I want to socialize more but I don't know how. Etc. We've been over this, and I'll talk about them again when we've got some new discoveries to record.
I did have a vaguely interesting Friday night, to be fair, but not that interesting that we need to spend several paragraphs describing it in dramatic, superlative laden detail. I might go to a concert or something this week, I haven't made my mind up yet. Shit costs money, man, it's ridiculous. I also should really, really probably get my hair cut this week, too, but the problem is I can imagine exactly the potential expense of that. I'm also a bit unsure of where I should go to get my hair done - either one or two places I've been before or somewhere entierly different. All things considered I'd rather just leave it, but I'm not talented enough with my hair to style it and not have it look ridiculous more than two out of seven times. Unfortunately
On a totally different topic, I'm pleased that we finally seem to be into spring without any further setbacks. Of course, having said that I completely expect to get at least one more dumping of snow before we're fully into April. Still, I'm pleased we seem to be passed the totally unnecessary amount of cold and snow we've had in the last two months. I like the winter and all, but temperatures below -20 are totally unnecessary, and the snow is only fun if I have something to do in it. Season change always gives a person a powerful, if brief, shot of excitement and encouragement to get going on whatever it is you want to do. Of course, I can't seem to make up my mind, so all it does is make me believe I can move in every direction at once. One of these days I'm hoping I actually do instead of remaining stationary, and that it provides a ridiculously good result.
I've been having some extremely strange dreams of late. Strange, perhaps, in that I can remember them, as I usually can't. But also just strange all on their own.
showin' how funky and strong is your fight
Another day, another crisis resolved. My Mac hath returned, and I am joyfully back to work, listening to the exact same songs I had on my iPod and fighting with my half-borked mighty mouse. Pretty cool.
post a comment
Nothing of note has really taken place in the last week, outside of another horrible grade in math on account of somehow missing the entire last page of questions on my latest test. I've been told that, since I did so well up to that point, I probably deserved that. Jerks.
So after finding about about them sometime last week, I picked up a super cheap gym membership through Norquest the other day. I can think of a wide variety of ways this could fail spectacularly, but I've never followed any truly serious exercise regimen (I was doing pretty well up until my appendix blew up two years ago, and I'd like to think that's a decent excuse for not getting back into the swing of it,) so who knows. Come the summertime, I could be lean, mean, ripped, chiseled, buff and jacked, perhaps at my most shirtless ever.
To follow up briefly from some previous entries (I'm not really feeling a journal tonight, but I felt it necessary for posterity,) I was, indeed, smashing it up for hours come Monday evening. It took a lot of the edge off of losing my fucking Mac for a week. Although to be perfectly honest, I'm so used to randomly losing my computer for indeterminate amounts of time it doesn't bother me that much. Minus the initial blowup, anyway. I've still been meaning to do those album reviews I promised aeons ago, but I'm honestly not too sure whether or not they belong here. I've noticed that I kind of haphazardly go back and forth between exactly what I want this blog to be; I think that someone else had the right idea by having a "professional" blog and a mindless personal blog. I shall investigate this possibility more in the future.
Still feeling a greater and more overwhelming desire to be social than I can remember. Didn't really stimulate it that well last week. I think I can do better this time.
half awake in a fake empire
So... I'm without a reliable computer again for up to ten days. Huzzah. In the midst of trying (and failing) to do a math assignment I had totally forgotten about at 4am this morning, the display of my iMac died. I thought that was pretty cool, seeing as how it's supposed to "just work" and all. I'll never win with computers.
1 comment | post a comment
Anyway, I spent about the next hour banging my head against my desk, as I was going to have neither my assignment, my computer or my sleep for the day, and eventually just decided to skip school somewhere around 6. Not exactly something I want to make a habit of (especially since they're what I would charitably describe as attendance nazis at NorQuest,) but I guess it's somewhat perversely more acceptable to miss a nothing day of school than miss a day of work. Urgh.
Anyway, I suppose updates for the next week+ might be either sporadic or non-existant, as the only reliable computer access I'll have is when I'm at school. I want to avoid using my stillborn PC as much as possible. I suppose it's not all bad - every time my computer goes down, I rediscover something I'd forgotten about, like video games or, god forbid, books.
Maybe I'll even get some of my homework done for a change.
Oh dear, it has been almost a week since I updated, hasn't it? Do forgive me, but it's not like you've missed anything interesting. I haven't felt particularly excited about this week.
post a comment
This weekend has been what I would charitably describe as an utter waste. After losing my wallet last Thursday, I successfully talked myself out of going anywhere this Friday. I suppose the odds are fairly low, but I really didn't want to lose my passport on top of everything else that's disappeared. That thing took too fucking long to get and is way too expensive to replace, so better safe the sorry, I guess.
Seriously, though. As much as I'm trying to include the few friends that I have in my life more often and get out to different places with them, I really think I need to start going by myself and urging myself to talk to people I've never met before with absolutely no prompting. It is extraordinarily difficult and unusual and, frankly, scary for me to just think about. I'm still absolutely clueless as to how you're supposed to actually become friends with people after you've started talking to them. But the more people I manage to get acquainted with, accidentally or otherwise, and the more customers I play the conversation game with at work, the more I realize that I am dying for social contact. I'm tired of complaining about not knowing anybody else who shares my interests. I need to find those people. I need to find the crazy, implusive friends I'm lacking. I need to find a hook up. I need to find a girlfriend. And I need to learn how to do this for both the simple and complex - and if I do, I will learn it totally cold. I don't think I'm ever going to find a damn mentor.
I only wish I could convince myself it would be easy - and I only wish what I've learned so far ever worked on the people I'd like it to.
On another, more upbeat note, I will probably have been smashing it up for hours by this time tomorrow. Huzzah and hurrah.
you shoulda' heard 'em just around midnight
post a comment
Hot damn. What a thumping. I believe the technical expression for what the Tories did to the Liberals and NDP tonight in Alberta is "straight wrecked," or perhaps "killed the fuck out of." I took a nap almost right after getting home from voting, but I woke up to find out that CTV called a PC majority thirty minutes into the results. Hilarious. I think this election (as well as the US Democratic primaries) serves as a vital reminder that you should not trust polls completely, and you should not trust the media completely. Nobody really knows what they're talking about when it comes to this shit.
Personally, I'm not really surprised it turned out to be a Tory landslide, but I am kind of surprised it turned out to be a Tory landslide. I figured Premier Stelmach's status as a compromise candidate (a political endeavour I well and truly loathe) and as being about as interesting as white paint on a wall and only slightly more erudite would cost him. I thought his lack of an established powerbase in Calgary and the fact Edmonton bleeds red might lead to a Tory minority caucus, but clearly, I was wrong. Whoops. I don't feel too bad, so was everybody else.
I hope now, with this enormous mandate we've just given the PC's for the eleventh fucking time, means that they'll actually start addressing the problems they've created in the province instead of pretending Ralph Kelin's accomplishments from six years ago are still somehow relevant. You have your powerbase now, Ed Stelmach. You may stop sitting on your hands at any time.
Perhaps with this new, outrageously huge majority, the government will finally address enviroment issues in some way better than their ridiculous forty-six year Made in Alberta plan. Look, guys, you have the seats: why don't you just propose a bill abolishing the enviroment? We probably won't have much of one left come 2012 anyway. Just get rid of the damn thing right now; the fucking thing is too hard to keep clean.
And to all the Albertans struggling with the massive cost of living, don't be annoyed: Kevin Taft is about to join you in collecting a meager EI cheque and moving into tent city.
i have two colours in my head
MUST DO CUMULATIVE MATH REVIEW YARR WHY AM I WRITING THIS INSTEAD
1 comment | post a comment
Ugh, I'm thinking about too many things at once. As a result, I'm unable to do any of them. It's a logic fallacy in my previous invulnerable plan! Catastrophic failure! I must recalculate.
No, but really, it's no so dramatic. I know I should review the math, but I fuckin' know all of this already, so it's hard to motivate myself. Working on the weekends really preoccupies me in my brain, and makes it super difficult to get anything done before I've finished work - and super difficult to finish anything afterwards, since I'm so tired. Fortunately, I declined to have my shift extended today and shall only have five hours of mind-numbing, menial, retail bullshit ahead of me. Huzzah. Hopefully I can sit down and do the work I was supposed to do since Thursday then.
I've just had a bad case of the "don't wannas" since Thursday, actually. I can't really explain it - partially because I haven't been sleeping so well, I guess, but partially because I'm tired of thinking and doing so much all at once and just kinda' want to sit down, listen to music, watch anime and not worry about anything for a little while. I remember a few months ago I had to retrain myself how to relax properly - I may have to review that as well as the math I've been taking for the last month.
Having a really horrible experience with gin on Thursday night probably didn't help me any, either. I am no longer friends with that drink. At all. Not even a little bit. Went to a club to celebrate a friend-of-a-friend's birthday that night, and I just wasn't feeling it basically from the very beginning. It was rather upsetting. Getting shoved away but at least three different girls on the dance floor really didn't help matters, either, and neither did losing my wallet in the cab on the way home. Wasn't my kind of club. Wasn't my kind of night.
To the surprise of nobody, working on the weekends is really not any more fun than working full time to me. I mean, yeah, I only went back to Safeway because at least I knew what I was doing, and yeah, I only went back because I know everybody who works there and I find them mostly enjoyable, and yeah, I am quite pleasantly surprised that more attractive girls work in a grocery store than a record store, but still. It honestly feels like it's getting in the goddamn way of everything - the weekends aren't my time to do anything or meet anybody, they're just two days that get in the way of me being in school, punctuated by spending most of them doing something I don't derive any genuine enjoyment from at all.
I had better engineer some way to make sure work is working for me, and figure out some better distractions for the next couple of months. Let's just call this one a write-off and move along, I think.
this isn't happening
So I finally woke up.
post a comment
I went to bed around 4:30 yesterday. That would be 4:30pm. I didn't crawl out of bed until around 11:30 this morning. I know I've been running pretty hard without too much sleep lately, but goddamn. Of course, I suppose the results are a little skewed since my body is probably used to sleeping at least twelve hours a day every couple of days, but still. I'm not sure whether it's good or not that I haven't really been feeling that tired while working or at school, although I have been concerned over the fact I've actually had to learn how to nap so I can sleep for an hour and then continue functioning properly some days.
I feel really, really compelled to spend the next two days (which are PD days, or non-instructional days, or whatever the fuck you want to call them) doing as little as possible, but I honestly can't let that happen. Other than the fact I have to work on the weekend and I have to go out tonight, I genuinely need to spend time studying. I could probably also stand to clean up a litt... er, a lot. I also need to have a look at my finances and determine where, exactly, I'm standing this month and next month. I'm hoping it's better than I think.
Also need to fit in some artistic endevours between here and Monday. I thought about it... so you know what that means. I guess I should also probably eat for the first time in over 30 hours, too. Yeah. Yeah, that wouldn't be a bad idea.
if i just lay here
After a weekend of work, drinking and indifference towards my usual mallaise, I finally came home. Came tired. Came sore.
post a comment
I had an interesting couple of days, I think. All that talk about using "building blocks" is basically a reference to enjoying my friends as they are and growing out from there. If I keep waiting for a perfect person to come along and steal either my heart of massive, intellectual brain, I'm never going to be satisfied. Hell, I'm not perfect (though I can pretend to be for extended periods of time), so I should really stop expecting everyone else to be.
Is this what empathy is supposed to be? I keep meaning to talk about me and that particular emotion, but I never get around to it. One of these days soon, I think. It's something phenominally complicated for me.
Anyway, I spent some time just hanging out with my ex, and that's where most of the surprises come from. I am now completely confident we are never getting back together as long as we both live, and frankly, that is perfectly okay with me. For the first part, I can stop wondering whether or not that's what she's ever wanted, as she's sometimes indicated she's unhappy with whatever current moron she's dating on any given week and would rather have my predictable blandness back. For the second, and this was the big surprise, we function on a completely different and more compatible level when there's no romantic pretense involved at all. We can socialize without any of her jealousy or neediness showing, she's infinitely less moody because she doesn't expect that from me, and we can actually have real conversations instead of those stupid, ulterior talks where we're trying to find hidden meanings and just leading up to an argument. Obviously, she's a completely different person to whomever she isn't in a relationship with, and I might be as well. I had never thought about that, but I'm perfectly comfortable with it. We'll see how this goes.
Assuming this clubbing thing becomes a regular activity, I'm going to make an effort over the summer to learn how to dance properly. I did some of it the other night - I guess. I mean, if you could call it dancing. I definitely get the appeal, though - it's fun to go out and pretend to be somebody else for a while. Or, rather, an expression of my more theatrical, sexual sex. I can be my academic self during the week.
A friend of mine mentioned that I look better than he can remember and I seem more confident. If that's what school, work, journal, art and socializing are doing, well... stay the course, man. Stay the course.
the mean of our heights is divided by the nights which is timesed by the daggers in the root of all our fights
|Subject:||Walking It Off|
I thought to myself that once again, it might be too late to write an entry, but I forgot that the last time I thought that I had something together in less than twenty minutes, so that ain't gonna' work. Damn my overbearing talent for the English language.
post a comment
So, yes, working from small building blocks does grant measures of success. I feel a lot better today, though I think the biggest part of it was that I just needed to get out and do something. I must keep this in mind for future reference and continue referring to it in moments of profound doubt. Also, I was completely right about the fact I can't go to the mall without somebody else, and am pleased to say that the wardrobe refit is slowly starting to take shape. It will, however, require more time,, and probably more paycheques, but that's going to have to wait until next month.
While on the communal poverty tram (ie: bus) back home, I ran into one of the girls I used to work with at HMV. The one I had a thing for, I should probably point out. I'm not sure what I find more embarrassing: that she recognized me easily, or that the best I could do was mutter an unconvincing "hey" back to her and then say nothing else. Sometimes I succeed wildly when put on the conversation spot, other times I fail mutely. I can't imagine it would have gone anywhere interesting, but I always complain nothing random happens to me while I'm out, and then somebody finally recognizes me and I can't figure out what to do. Whoops. I'll do better next time... I hope...
My hormones rarely take full control of my brain, but I need to figure out what to do with them, and fairly quickly. There's definitely a disproportionate amount of willfully celibate nerds out there, but I am not one of them. I don't even have the benefit of saying I'm sexually confused to my credit. My deeper and more powerful desire is definitely to have some kind of mutually fufilling relationship (as my whining can attest to, I think), but coming up on twenty one and still being a virgin definitely does werid things to my brain and my pysche. Sex isn't the be all end of life, and first times tend to be massive letdowns, but Jesus. I don't like admitting that it's kind of a controlling factor in how I approach relationships with women, (and probably why I find it so hard to have female friends) except in moments of weakness, but for the sake of my sanity and self-confidence, I can't help but make it a priority. I only hope I don't do something stupid because of it.
Fifteen minutes to spare. Am I good or what?
we'll just have to adjust
post a comment
Okay, so once again I may want to step off it a bit. All this talk of accepting and expanding weirdness and moving forward with a new self-image like so many marketing campaigns is wonderful, and genuinely heartfelt, but occasionally does conflict with my terribly self-conscious reality. It's very easy to make life-altering decisions from your armchair and then u-turn come a moment of truth. Or even a moment of vague frankness.
Went to the mall today. I have got to realize that never in my life has that been a good decision. Nothing cool has ever happened to me at the mall, I have never met anyone interesting, I have never been blessed by serrendipity, I have no friends to speak of there and I can't do shopping therapy. Really, though, it's just the shopping that gets to me. I hate shopping - looking at stuff I want to buy just reminds me of all the things I can't find in my life. I actually don't think I can go to market at all unless I'm just buying bread and milk, becase it's just one of those things I abhor doing alone.
I said I'd expand on one of the two things I talked about the other day (or review some albums - that's probably coming, but we're all just going to have to wait with baited breath), and I think this all ties very sadly into my comment about my extraordinarily well cultivated loner culture. Putting it simply, I spend most of my time by myself, and as much as I've gotten used to it being that way, I have never really gotten good at being alone. Basically, you could say I find it very hard to act independently. I never go out on Saturday, for example - and really, why would I? Unless I have somebody going with me, I lose the group dynamic that's vital to me. It's a controlling issue: I'm hampered by my general inability to reach out to others individually, and also hampered by a longstanding desire to do things by myself, because I just don't know how to operate outside of that mindest. If you understand what I'm getting at, I think it illustrates why it's taken me so long to get my life steadily moving in one direction - as Tom always says, I'm all concept and no execution.
I'm trying, maybe not as hard as I want, but I am trying to break it so I can finally be happy with what I'm doing, whatever the hell it happens to be. But I can't help getting discouraged easily. I suppose on the bright side I'm not as hopeless as I was a few years ago, and I actually have a few small building blocks to my credit. But I have got to learn to fucking use them instead of aiming way past what I've learned so far and setting unattainable goals, which I will inevitably fail at just so I can say I tried. (Self-fufilling prophecies are another one of my favourite past-times, they are never positive, and I have to try and outgrow those fuckers, too.) I definitely know what I want from other people and what I expect from myself, so... let's regroup and try this again.
i go to sleep and imagine that you're there with me
In quickly scanning my last ten or so updates, I just noticed I've used the "full" mood four times. I'm such a glutton.
post a comment
I honestly feel like I've got a whole bunch of things to do and I'm not really sure where to start. I mentioned the other day that my entire diet seems to consist of music lately, and while that is perfectly okay, I have definitely been more intellectually active. I may have to start setting little goals to make sure I diversify, ie: read x amount this week, write x amount the next week, watch x amount the week after that. I'm sure I can tweak the system to be a little more flexible than that, but you get the jist of it. I probably shouldn't complain about kicking back and listening to a whole buncha' tunes this weekend, since that's basically what I told myself I wanted to do on Friday. So dunno, I guess it just feels like I could've done more.
I have spent maybe two hours with my friends over the past two weeks, and that's kind of bothering me. Not just because I am of constant worry that I'm drifting, (although the friends I currently have are of varying value in my mind) but because even though I have cultivated this extemely potent loner culture within myself I know that I really need to be getting out and doing pointless things every now and then to get my head into the clear. It never, ever meets my increasingly complicated needs in the way I would like it to, but I usually enjoy myself and that's the important thing. (It should be noted that this makes a lot of my whining self-aggrandizing, and me into my own worst enemy, but that's a discussion for a different day)
Kind of a filler entry for today just to keep the good streak alive. Either an expansion of one of these topics or some album reviews tomorrow.
i'm going down among the saints
When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.
post a comment
As the last few months have rolled by, I've slowly begun to come to terms with how weird I am, naturally. It's always kind of been there, in the back of my mind, the awareness of it. I have weird hobbies, I like weird music, I have weird tastes. I have an extremely weird and often awkward manner, which is usually what I self-consciously focused on. It just seemed... unnatural somehow, though. If I think about the personas I cultivated, mentioned in the last entry, it would probably be safe to say that my weirdness didn't fit into what I was imagining, even though the entire action was VERY strange by definition. Anyway, I guess the point is that I used to try and hide it, or would wait a long time until I began to express it, like it somehow undid me. Now I've reached a point where I no longer feel like hiding the fact I'm eccentric, I'm at peace with it, although I can still take some time to express it.
However... lately I've been feeling as if I should try ridding myself of that 'problem,' too. I've accepted the fact I am genuinely a little touched - and now that I can deal with it, it seems to make sense in my brain that I should try pushing the envelope on how weird weird is for me. I'm not exactly sure why, but... I seem to want to see myself as a canvas for my own self-expression, not just what I do or say. Wait, let me try and make that sound less ridiculous. I'll explain what I've been thinking:
I'm finding it easier to relate to people in a group level than on a personal level. Some people fear public speaking more than they fear death, which I can understand, but not empathize with. For me, it's easy to find a simple, underlying theme to relate to in a room full of people, stand up at the front and speak to all of them at once. To me, it almost seems theatrical, because I'm trying to form a completely different relationship with them than I would one-on-one. And for some reason, nothing about that is threatening to me the same way that talking to a single person, face-to-face is. Thirty people could look at me and think I'm ridiculous all at once, and that wouldn't bother me in the slightest, because that may have even been what I was trying to achieve. It's honestly something theatrical to me, as if I think of a group as my audience and I reach them on that specific wavelength. But when I sit down with just one of them, the goal has changed: there's no theatre in that, and the shared experience I'm trying to form is on a much deeper, more serious level. One person is not an audience, and I am really not free to 'act' to them. If someone thinks I'm ridiculous here, I feel as though I've lost them; that is almost never the intention. If I fail at communication in any way, it's that I cannot reach out to people individually; if I can succeed anywhere, it's that I can cultivate a group with minimal effort. Thus it is said, I have many acquaintances, but no friends.
So I suppose what I'm egging at is that I want to stand out more to the naked eye. If it really is so easy for me to speak to people as a group, maybe I should work harder at that, and make myself more interesting in the process. And if I'm lucky, reaching multiple people on a low level might help me finally figure out how to reach a single person on a higher one.
work you out like a mathematician