2009

This is probably going to be a long post...just saying. It's the last day of the year. Everything is quiet, and everyone has been writing notes on facebook about the past year and decade. So I guess that now it's my turn. And yes, I could easily write this in a facebook note and tag friends and people involved and hell knows what else. But I'm not going to. Because I've always been that quieter one, who reads everyone else's note but never writes their own...even as I compose it in my mind. So here goes nothing.

2009 has been crazy. It has been a year of infinite changes. And a lot of firsts. I mean a lot of firsts. But let's not linger on that too long. So many things have happened. I can't even believe it. I've done things I never thought I would and pushed myself to limits I could never have imagined. I have fallen deeper than I thought possible, and risen higher above myself than I could have foreseen. But I've made so many mistakes. I can't undo what happened, I can't go back to the past. What's done is done, what's happened has happened. And now I have to live with it.

In the next year, I will have to change things. No, not that I will have to, but I will. I am not going to let myself make the same mistakes I did in the past year. So many memories are flying through my head...so many moments that I remember so clearly. I've been hurt, and I've overcome it. I've moved on with my life and been willing to leave some things, and people, behind. Sometimes I wish I could have some of that back, or change things...but I know I can't.

I'm here for a fresh start. I'm willing to let go of the past and look forward to the future, because I know that I can't keep reliving these moments, pushing myself into depression. I want to be able to move forward with my life. And in order to do that, I need to talk to someone, I need to be able to tell the full story, the missing piece that nobody but me has known. I know this. So I've made the commitment to tell someone this story. In this new year, perhaps the only resolution that I will make is that I will talk about what happened, tell the truth...and accept it, and move and and allow myself to grow from it.

This has actually been shorter than I thought it would be, but I guess I've still left pieces out. That's okay though. I covered everything I needed to in terms of the past year and what I need to do in the future. Or rather, in what will tomorrow be the present. So that is how it will go. To all I know and love: Happy New Year!! May all the best come to you with this fresh start, and may you be happy and healthy as you can be. In eleven hours, I will say to all of you: welcome to 2010!

I Feel Better Now

I don't know what it is, but today is a better day. Maybe it's because I finally slept well for the first time in hell knows how long, or because I actually managed to wake up and fall asleep again, which I rarely manage to do. I don't know, and it really doesn't matter. For once, I'm not upset, angry, suffering with a headache, or cursing the world in general. I'm actually almost...dare I say it...excited for what comes next.

Maybe this has something to do with the fact that the year (and the decade) is ending, or maybe it doesn't. Whatever it is, for once, I can open my eyes and look around me without wanting to cry or cringe or lie down and not get up. I'll admit, lately, that's all I've been. Spending too much time alone and not wanting company leads to a depressed me struggling to get through everything and fighting against emotion. But today it's different. I'm not fighting anymore. I don't recall having made a conscious discussion to just let go and relax a bit, but I think I have.

So here I am, breathing in the smell of a candle. Certainly, life isn't perfect. But it's alright. If only for one brief day, I'm enjoying my life the way it is without making demands or wishing for the impossible. Even sorrowful moments have turned into more level, fascinating ones that I can approach from a different angle. This is one of those days that really makes me believe that everything truly will be alright, no matter what happens between now and then.

Life is short, and there are so many things we can be doing. The great part is, I don't have to be doing pretty much anything to be happy. I can sit back on the couch and stare off into space, thinking, and still be happy. I don't need to try food of every cuisine, visit every place on earth, read every book, or meet every person. Some of those could be nice, but they're not what ultimately determines my happiness. While I'm still in this contented, relaxed mood, I think I will go and make good use of my time by reading a book...not because I have to or I can, but because I want to. Here's to taking a deep breath and making the most of today!

365

It is December 29th, 2009. Not that you didn't know that by reading the date somewhere above or below this post, but that's beside the point. That means two more days until the 31st. Two more days until we all sit up to watch fireworks and drink to the new year. Two more days left of 2009. And it doesn't feel real. Sometimes it feels like this year never even happened, other times it feels like it has dragged on forever. So many things changed in the course of these 365 days that I will come to call 2009.

Friendships came and went, as did relationships. Tastes in music, clothing, and foods fluctuated and altered. Moods went up and down more than they ever have before. Some things I lost, others I gained. I became a different person. This year probably changed me more than any year before. I can remember the end of 2008--my hopes, my dreams, my aspirations, and my motivations. And now they're all so different.

365 days. That's it. That's all that passed. But in those 365 days, there were 8760 hours. And in those 8760 hours, there were 525600 minutes (yes, just like that one song). Each of those minutes was in its own way significant. Take away one, and the rest of them change. At some point in the next two days, I'm going to make a list of the significant changes that have occurred, perhaps in a way a time-line of 2009.

I've always been sentimental, but this isn't stemming from that part of my nature. This is my idea to better understand who I am and how the past year has affected me. Since only several days ago the full effects of an event of the spring hit me, I've started realizing that maybe I should begin to more closely analyze major shifts in my life, how they've affected my moods, my tastes, etc. Looking back on a year like this is strange, and I can't help but wonder where that time really went. But I guess what's done is done, and now all I can do is move on the future, remembering the lessons of this past year.

Intimidation

At the very end of a long train of thoughts I had today, starting with a comment made on my intelligence, I came to this conclusion: I'm afraid that I will never be loved because people are intimidated by me. Even typing that out, I realize just how off the phrasing is from my thoughts, but there is no way I can think of to change those words to be more comprehensive. And that's the truth. I know that I am intimidating, it has been confirmed to me by friends and others numerous times, and I guess I could easily come off as inherently unapproachable.

I once noted to a friend that for the past year or so, all of the people who have been romantically interested in me went after that friend, first. And it's true. It made for a laughable moment between the two of us, but at the same time, it made me notice just how a combination of being reclusive and intimidating keeps me from getting to know people. There, it's not even about love or relationships...it's about basic friendships.

I know how conceited this is going to sound, but I'll say it anyway, because it's the truth, at least as I perceive it. I know that I am intelligent. I know that I am more accomplished than most of the people around me. And I know that because of this, my partial nonchalance, and the added bonus of my stature, I am intimidating. I don't try to be, but in shielding myself from the world, certainly I have developed an external shell that is largely impenetrable. The thing is, though, that knowing that I have attributes that I could lord over people hasn't led me to do so.

Most of my friends feel inferior to me and have confided the sentiment. Most of the people I know have told mutual friends, who in turn have told me, that they can't compare to me if they tried. And what do I do about it? I downplay it. Every major accomplishment, while the rest of the world screams and shouts about their results on facebook or in real life, I keep it quiet. Because unlike the rest of the world who gets to celebrate when they do well, I am expected to do well, and if I do, everyone casts that away, and if I don't, I get mocked for accomplishments that for others would lead to applause. This is what I deal with. Sure, it sounds pathetic, and egotistical, but right now, I don't care.

Frankly, this hasn't affected how I treat people or feel about them. My last ex was a wonderful (note the sarcasm) proponent of telling me just how it feels to be looked down on, standing next to me. What did that change in my mind? NOTHING. I've learned by now not to judge based on so-called rankings of intelligence or mere facts about people. I've stopped judging the lazy, the promiscuous, the outspoken, the reclusive. My attributes may be intimidating, but I try not to be. I am human, I have thoughts, feelings, emotions just like everyone else in this world. I may also have a set of numbers floating above my head, a list of accomplishments behind my back, but that doesn't determine who I am.

Sometimes I wish that people could just look past all of that. I'm not saying that they should forget everything they know about me when we talk, but I mean that they shouldn't let it cloud their judgment, like I try not to let it cloud mine. Because all too often, the only things people know about me are the numbers and the accomplishments. And I'm afraid that someone's unwillingness to look past the trivial factors and see who I am is going to leave me more miserable in effect. I apologize for how stuck up this must sound, but I promised to write the truth, and I would be lying if I said this wasn't it.

Sleep

Third night.
Too little sleep.
So tired.

Hell, I'm not even thinking straight anymore. Everything is fuzzy and a blur. I don't know how I've managed to carry on any conversations today, but I know that I have. It's so early but I'm already falling asleep. And I don't want to wake up tomorrow. If it was possible for me to hibernate, I would. I need the sleep right now. I'm completely and utterly exhausted.

Maybe after dinner I'll just curl up under the covers and hopefully fall asleep at a reasonable hour for once instead of lying awake or tossing and turning until 3 in the morning. Then again, I don't want to wake up early tomorrow...that means more time in unpleasant company. But I have to be up by 11:30 anyway.

Alright, I'm sorry. Second day in a row that I've really failed at having any topic in my post. Hell, I just almost spent this one debating when to go to sleep today in a fuzzy, half-rational fashion. I'm almost tempted to throw in some intelligent statement, because a couple have floated into my head like "I miss being naive," or "life is like a basket, and events are like the fibers...all different and weaving together." I guess that's my share of intelligence for the day? That's really pretty sad, actually. But oh well, I'm tired, and nothing exciting has happened. So with that, I prematurely wish all a good night.

Solitude

Snow is falling. It has been falling all day. For all I know, it may have never stopped since it started yesterday afternoon. It falls and falls, covering everything. Walking through it has become difficult, and people have locked themselves indoors to avoid going out into it. So here I sit, reveling in the warmth of the heater, staring at the flame of a candle, periodically looking out the window to see the flakes floating down to the ground.

This is what I dislike about the winter. More than just the cold, it isolates everyone. Even if I wanted to get out and go for a walk, the snow entirely discourages me. Evergreens are up, lights shine, garlands and ornaments are everywhere. So here I sit. Nothing changes. A combination of the warmth and good food is beginning to affect me, and I find my eyelids drooping. It's not even 6 pm yet, and I'm already tired. Nothing that a cup of hot tea with a lemon can't fix.

Honestly, I have nothing much to write today. Thoughts have been drifting into and out of my head, holiday movies have gotten my senses all muddled, and a slight headache has really put a damper on any deep thoughts. I just spent five minutes staring at the sentence. I have nothing to say beyond that. Certainly, various things have happened today. But nothing of significant value, nothing worth expending the energy of posting. So with that, I'll leave each household to its own peace, separate from all others.

Awake

Last night, I was in bed at 11:30 pm. This morning, I got out of bed at 11:30 am. That is the longest sleep I have gotten in many months. Twelve hours. From that, one would assume that I slept well. Unfortunately, just as it was the longest I have slept in a while, it was also the worst. I'm afraid that maybe only two hours of that was actually spent sleeping. So how could I possibly have spent twelve hours in bed then?

I can't stop thinking. This is the one secret that I really keep from absolutely everyone. It's taken months to finally really reach me, but now that it has, I can't stop thinking about it. And I'm not about to write it, either. So this is how I spent my night, tossing and turning, trying to understand my emotions, trying to overcome the unbelievable sensations coursing through my body as a result of what happened so long ago.

Suddenly, I realized what explains so many of the actions I took over the past several months. Everything that before was entirely unrelated and done "just because..." all of that, I can explain now. It was me subconsciously reacting. And now I'm beginning to react consciously. I can feel the difference in my posture, in my expression. Even as I write this, I'm withdrawing from the world again. I'm cloaking myself in music again to avoid everyone and everything that could touch me. I'm trying to understand all of this, to come to terms with it.

And it's not working. I want to talk to someone about this, but I know that I can't. Too many people would go trying to make things better and do the wrong thing. Others wouldn't understand what it means to me. Writing it out would just make it available for all of those people and more. So I'm still sitting here trying to accept it. I can't. I'm so confused, and this is clouding my thought process and leaving me in a fog about what I believe.

This has thrown a blanket over my life...but it's not the blanket of depression. It seems similar, isolating me from the world, but it's not nearly the same. This is a cover of contemplation, leading me away from everything so that I can come to terms with it all. That's the thing about having too much time to myself--I start thinking and reflecting on things I really need to. Only altogether too often, I'm not done being absorbed in the issue by the time I need to get back to living my life, and then it drags behind me and throws me off of everything. How many more nights I will lie awake thinking about this, I don't know. But at least I'm finally starting to understand it...I hope.

Change

Before I start the inevitably ranting post that will come out of my current thoughts, I will say this much:

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! To everyone I know and love, I want to wish you the very best that this holiday season may bring. May you and your loved ones be happy and healthy for the rest of your lives. I hope that all of your wishes come true and every moment is made of pure joy!

Alright, with the obligatory and heartfelt holiday greeting now out of the way, I can begin actually writing what I meant to write. And there's obviously a reason this post is called 'change.' No, it's not because I'm coming up with a list of New Year's resolutions--I haven't done that in years, and that tends to not work. It's because I was looking through some old photos of myself today. Even though I know that in most of those, the smile was fake and the emotions of my mind were quite different from how it appears, I can't help but remember just how different everything was then.

Some of the best photos are from two or three years ago--I'm happier, definitely healthier (although you can't tell that by the photos), and definitely look better. For the past year and a half, but especially recently, I've been getting too caught up and carried away in all the trivial matters of life and letting my health--mental, emotional, and physical slip away. Right now my focus is on the latter of the three, just because of how much I can see and feel it in every single thing I do. So it's time to change.

I can't just keep living like this--binge eating and reaching for the fridge whenever I'm bored, confused, or desirous of avoiding work. And I really do need to start exercising again. The problem with that being that in this freezing weather, I am not about to go outside to run, as much as I may want to. So I need to start doing the exercises I learned long ago when I was still an athlete, because the shape I'm in right now is absolutely atrocious, especially considering the shape I was in four years ago.

Of course, physical health is tied into emotional health, too. There you can see more changes to be made. Maybe, once I get back into a normal routine after these holidays (which I am rather annoyed at for throwing it all off), I'll finally be able to kick my habit of spider solitaire or stumbleupon to relieve boredom or avoid work. Maybe I'll actually will myself to meditate again. It all sounds so good right now...and at the same time so unrealistic. I've lost weight before, but it wasn't this much. And I definitely had more liberty with my time and mental resources then, too. So I guess I'll start by learning to manage my stress. I have seventeen days to figure out just how I'm going to do this. But I promise you, I will make that change and get back to what I used to have.

Time

Another day has gone by. Another 24 hours has elapsed, come and gone, passed us by, run away. However we see time, we cannot deny that it passes. And what happened in the space of that day? All too often, we are entirely unaware of the passage of time. We just let it all slip away and fall apart behind us. But as time flows, the world around us changes. Things happen, people come into and leave our lives, we grow older, and the seasons shift. Even if we lose track of the time that has gone, we cannot have it back.

Maybe we don't always realize what happened around us. We don't see the heart that was just broken in the next room, we don't hear the mother grieving the loss of her child across the street. We don't know these things. If they only happened in the lives of strangers, it would be fine, it would be easier, and we would accept them and let them go. But time doesn't just change the lives of those we aren't familiar with...it also changes the lives of those around us, and our lives as well.

Sometimes it's a single word that changes everything. Other times it's a prolonged silence. We have no way of knowing how what we do or don't say, or do, affects those around us. Some days we can see the pain clearly written on their faces; others, they hide it from the world. A simple smile can change the world, and it inevitably does. History as we know it is made up of big events--wars, invasions, disasters, plagues. But underneath all of that, it's just people. Every single person is living their life at this moment, thinking a thought, making a decision.

When we realize that there are six billion of us on the planet, in this instant, doing something, the sense of awe is incredible. Suddenly, we're not alone sitting on a couch, staring into a computer screen. We are surrounded by so many others doing exactly the same thing, even though we may not see them, may not know who they are. There's something about that which really makes the concept of humanity hit home. Because in the end, that's what it all comes down to, that's what we all share: we are human.

Why I Don't...

start conversations: Because I don't know if you want me to talk to you or not. I'm almost always willing to carry on a conversation with someone, or anyone for that matter, as long as they want to talk to me. Sometimes it's because I worry that I don't have enough to say, and I don't want to start a conversation that will lapse into pauses and "so...what now?" sequences in a matter of minutes. Then again, sometimes I'm afraid that whoever I want to talk to is busy. Or, if I want to talk about something specific in my life, I don't want to burden someone else who may be having no easier a day than I am.

say more in company: Because I'm the person who loves to sit and listen. I either don't have anything relevant or interesting to add, or I'm interested enough in what is being said around me that I don't feel as though I need to add anything. And sometimes, of course, I'm just too tired, or my thoughts are somewhere else, or I don't want to ruin the pleasant mood. So I just hold my tongue.

pick up the phone: Because I don't like the phone. It's the worst of face-to-face and internet conversation--you don't see each other, but you're also assumed to be entirely committed to the conversation. Or I may just be avoiding people that day. Here's a novel idea--maybe I just didn't hear it ringing, or I had it off. In general, the phone is a good way to reach me for quick information or to make plans...NOT to have extensive conversations.

see a psychologist: Because I feel stable enough in my cognitive and emotional abilities to manage my life on my own. And because I don't want to burden yet another person, especially one who has no personal connection to me and only a professional one, with my issues. I talk to my friends when I need to, or I write long, often senseless rants. That's how I deal with what happens in my life, and I'm just fine without a psychologist, thank you.

tell most people the truth about things: Because I have trust issues. Also, because most people don't need to know a damned thing about my personal life in order to get along with me. The way I see it, the fewer people know things about me that I consider to really matter, the better. That way, my close friends are closer and nobody else even stands half a chance at hurting me. It works well.

bitch people out: Because I'd rather hurt myself than others. No matter how much hell my ex may have put me through, or how many lies I've gone through, I'm not about to bitch in that direction. I also realize that it would do largely no good. It would fuel the fire, increase tensions, and add even more headache and stress to many people for whom that is the last thing they need. I'd rather keep my grievances to myself then, rather than adding to them.

write this post like my normal ones: Because I didn't feel like it. I decided to try something new, something not as conventional as my standard paragraphs. Maybe I'll do more "creative" or "different" posts more often from now on...I don't know. I don't think the language of this one flows as well as I like, but at the same time, it's brief, to the point, and certainly not standard. Variety is the spice of life after all, is it not?

Wisdom

Many people who have known me for a while are familiar with my passion for quotes. And those who have been in deep conversation with me while I've been at my computer have probably seen a piece or portion of my "collection," so to speak. I gather quotes from everywhere and anywhere. Some from philosophers, others from authors, and several even from the people around me. This quote is definitely among my favorites, and not because Confucius said it.

I agree with it, too. It very much makes sense. There may or may not be more ways to learn wisdom, or it is possible that wisdom cannot be learned, and it ultimately comes down to your definition of wisdom. But I'm not going to linger over the technicalities like I usually do, and I'll just move right on to how this all plays out in real life.

Reflection. I'm not sure why it's the noblest, but it does take a certain amount of skill to solve a problem merely by thinking about it. I do reflect. I spend hours upon hours reflecting about life, people, the world, and whatnot else.

Imitation. Certainly the easiest. It's the way children learn things growing up. They see their parents doing something and learn to do it the same way. I guess I imitate as well...it would probably be sad if I didn't considering just how much I watch people and try to figure out their thoughts.

Experience. This is where the quote really strikes home to me. It definitely is the bitterest, because there you go through everything, feel every emotion...you don't just watch it from the sidelines and understand that it was a stupid decision. This is how I live my life. I experience things, I make mistakes, and I learn from them.

There have been countless times when I have been aware of foolish choices I was about to make, but didn't stop them. And I learned--I learned the hard, painful, bitter way that some actions are better not taken, some words are better not said, and some thoughts are better not revealed. I could have come to that conclusion, or perhaps I already had, by imitation or reflection. But I didn't. In the end, I chose the path of experience for myself.

But why? When I could have done it "nobly," or "easily," why did I have to do it "bitterly?" Am I such a masochist that I adore the pain that comes of making life hard for myself? I doubt it. I've called myself an emotional masochist before, but the label may have been mistaken. I don't intentionally put myself into situations to cause myself pain...rather I perhaps inch closer to them because I love the challenge, the danger. Maybe that's why I choose to live my life through experience rather than imitation--because it's more interesting. The greater the risk, the greater the reward. And I do risk. I've come to love taking the plunge, even if I end up sorely bruised in the process. That's just how I like my life, I guess.

Identity

I think it's time for a little bit of a confession. There is literally no way to tell by this blog who I am. At all. Sure, you could put together all the dates, the approximate time periods, the possible recognition of certain events or weather patterns and guess. But I have not given a single clear indication of who I am. No clues as to gender, age, or location. None. My gender can probably be guessed from reading even a single paragraph of any of my posts, I rather think my style carries it as well as a blatant admission would, although I have not once referred to myself or my ex as male or female. As far as age goes, some would probably guess pretty damn close to the truth, and I assume a certain range is clear enough, but nothing to pin it down to more than plus or minus two or three years. And location...well, weather could give it away, but that's about all there is to it.

So now comes the question of why. Location hasn't really been relevant. That one I can dismiss immediately from consideration. My age...because there is no need for me to specify. I've always been one to believe that it is experience that determines wisdom and worldly skills, rather than age. There I think it may be best to leave it ambiguous not for fear of identity theft or whatnot else of the like but merely because in my opinion, it is not relevant. It may give valid context to my life, but it does not define it--so I do without.

Now gender...there it gets interesting. Certainly, my gender has played a major role in many of my posts, from those dealing with society to those relating to my own relationships. But why not reveal it, especially if it is already practically bursting from the words? Initially, my friend (yes, the same one who helped come up with titles for posts, etc. etc. etc.) suggested keeping it ambiguous. That was before I started writing about my ex and other situations where specifying gender would have simplified word choice and sentence structure infinitely. At that point, I myself made the conscious decision to omit such indicators. None of what I have written has been, in my opinion, severely hindered by this omission, and it has made certain posts a bit more challenging for me. And I like challenge.

Now the question arises of whether I'm ever going to change any of this ambiguity in my writing or not. I rather think not right now. I'm most flexible on the question of indicating gender, partially because it is practically obvious and partially because it would just simplify some things. But at the same time, I see no specific need for it and so will continue as I have. If for some reason it changes, then it changes. I'm not going to beat myself up for such trivial details, especially if the change helps the flow of what I write. Having said that much, I wonder just how much my writing will change as different events occur in my life and circumstances change.

One final thing I believe I should note, as it is relevant here: the issue of truth and honesty in my posts. I try to be open in my writing, but there are some thoughts which I do not record. I know that certain people read this blog and I know that certain thoughts would be too blatantly obvious and perhaps unkind to them. So for that reason, I refrain from posting everything. Perhaps as it is, too many references have been made in such directions, or to common acquaintances that may not be fond of what I have said. To all whom I may have hurt or offended, I apologize. The same holds for those who have discovered more of my thoughts than they wish to have known.

Thoughts

"My days brimming with hope, my nights seeping with agony and despair."

That was the thought that occurred to me roughly ten minutes ago. Until a second ago, I wasn't really sure what I should do with it. Then again, when not certain, what better than to sort it out? And I do that best by writing sometimes. So what does that thought even mean? It didn't just randomly appear in my mind, it was rather the end of a trail of calculated and analytical thinking about my life.

I'm the sort of person who loves being alone but shouldn't be left so. When left to my own devices, my thoughts begin to coil and curl into terrifying creations that even I cannot begin to comprehend. They take on lives of their own, and before I know it, I'm caught up in vivid fantasies or carried away in powerful nightmares, completely unaware of how I ended up there and completely incapable of stopping the rush in my mind. Don't get me wrong here, I love those moments, they fascinate me...it's the sort of dark dread that brings out the most intense of all curiosity in me.

At the same time, it does scare me. I often wonder what would happen if I was just left in isolation, free to think as I would, my thoughts raring beyond the control of my mind. Where would I end up? What would I think, what would I feel? I can't help but ponder the strange ideas that would inevitably crop up in my head, drive me to strange and arcane actions. Thus it goes every day when I'm out of contact with my friends. I begin theorizing on strange ideas, capitalizing in my dreams on the most absurd of notions. And by the time the darkness descends outside, I catch myself in this familiar worry about my thoughts.

Yet every time, it somehow works out. After every pit of fear in my stomach about my mental stability, I never fail to resume so-called normalcy. Somehow that thought manages to qualm my fears right now, soothe the nervous tension in my hands. I'm not sure where my current thoughts are taking me, but I have control. I am entirely aware of what is going on around me, so I feel it safe to follow this strange, forbidden stream flowing about my mind. And now that I've assessed that logic, I will go back to creeping after it, tenderly taking one step after another and seeing where my thoughts may lead.

Memories

It was the end of January and we were in my room, watching a movie. It was a language that I had been raised with, but that my now-ex didn't understand. So there we sat, watching a movie with English subtitles (but then again, for us, each knowing two languages and learning a third, that wasn't exactly rare), with my occasional correction of the phrasing. We had just recently started dating, and the bond between us was still very strange and uncomfortable. But nonetheless, we were watching the movie, side by side, smiling at the funny moments, gasping at bits in surprise.

And then I felt an arm around my shoulders. For the first time in that relationship, we had actually touched...and not just bumping into each other touched, but really touched with meaning. Even as I was beginning to adjust to the new sensation, the voice beside me said, paralleling the development of the plot, "pretend I'm drunk." I wanted to say, "you don't need to pretend that," or something to convey the lack of necessity of that phrase. I wanted to know that the touch wasn't just a haphazard action, but rather something with meaning.

Even then, I guess I saw that something was missing between us. But I didn't let it affect me, and dove into the relationship with every inch of my soul bared, every truth exposed. Now as I sit here, ten and a half months later, I can't stop remembering those moments. The brief encounters in sheltered hallways, the stifled laughter on abandoned paths, the longing gazes and the fleeting kisses. Each moment stands out to me as I look and see the winter unfolding before me. I can't look at the snow at night without remembering our first kiss. And it's not even that I miss that relationship. I think it's the innocence of it all that I really miss.

Someone asked me several days ago why I kept talking about it, why I couldn't "move on" like I said I had. I've certainly moved on in that I no longer have any emotional attachment...or even mildly present tolerance...toward my ex. But at the same time, I can't move on. It took me a long time looking into my own eyes in the mirror (hopefully not as narcissistic as it may appear) to really figure out the truth: because this person had seen me naked.

And no, I do not mean physically naked. I mean emotionally. I had been trusting, I lay myself prostrate before this individual whom I had trusted with everything. After it was all over, I couldn't help but notice that whenever I heard complaints from that end, it was always about how I was less trusting and less open and less honest about myself. Really, it was the opposite of the truth. I had been completely honest about my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions. For all intents and purposes, in that relationship, I was completely naked. I lowered my defenses all the way, I let them fall at the gentle pressure that pushed the soft lips of another onto mine. I could have stopped myself from falling that far but I didn't. I let the truth come out. I trusted.

Then it was all shattered. My heart wasn't broken. After all, I was the one who ended the whole thing when it had been falling apart for months. But my trust was. That's why I still haven't been able to move on--because I was hurt more by this person than I ever have been by anybody else. Pain like that doesn't just disappear. I'm not deluded enough to think of this as belated heartbreak or longing. I'm seeing it for what it really is. I'm too afraid to open up now, to be really honest with anybody.

I want to be in a relationship again. I want to be able to trust someone so completely and openly. But I can't. Because that was ruined for me seven months ago when I learned that my secrets weren't kept. So here I am, cowering behind my walls, praying that someone will find me. I can't keep hiding here, and pieces of the truth have leaked out. But it hasn't been because I've been willing to trust again, it was because I needed to talk about some things and deal with what has been happening. I've accepted this now, but I have also become a changed individual because of it, more sedate and reclusive for the fear of being hurt again. I'm still willing to risk myself, to put everything on the line for somebody, but first I need to know that it would truly be worth it. That all of my pain wouldn't be for nothing like it was the last time I tried.

Calculated Risk

Risk. It's a concept we're all familiar with. For some of us, it appears to be an everyday encounter, while others perceive themselves as approaching it only once in a long span of time. Either way, we all underestimate it. Because what it comes down to is that every moment of our lives is a risk. In every single moment we may die, we may fall terminally ill, we may be injured irreversibly or traumatized to no apparent end. And every decision we make is also a risk. It is a calculated risk.

To make a choice, pick a side, act upon something, we must take a risk. The way we do it varies. Sometimes we think we play blindly in our minds and pick the first answer that comes up. Other times, we throw together a bunch of factors, see where the light falls, and hope that we don't fail. And then, there are the times that we actually think of our choices as consequences. These are the times when we take hours or days to carefully weigh all of the factors and hesitantly pick a course of action. This is what we usually call a calculated risk. At those moments, we become intensely aware of the consequences of our decisions and try to avoid making a mistake.

In reality though, every single decision we make is a calculated risk. Even randomly tossing ideas around inside our heads is a matter of risk. When we seemingly stab into the dark and take the first thought that comes to mind, we have already analyzed it all, and have decided that the answer that occurred to us is satisfactory. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second we take risks. And believe it or not, they are all calculated. Not a single word comes out of our mouths, not a single limb moves anywhere without us having already considered the possible actions and respective consequences of that decision.

So what's the point of this? What does it matter whether we do actually calculate the outcomes of our lives or not if it doesn't affect the way we do things? It's a matter of awareness. We do not by any means need to concern ourselves with just how our minds work, but it is nonetheless fascinating. And it gives us all a bit of insight into what is behind the decisions we make. When looking at everything as a risk, suddenly some of the expressions we use fall into place and take on a different meaning relating to the context. Every time we make the split-second decision to pick up the phone or not, to start the conversation or otherwise, to walk away from the table or linger for half an hour more...it's all a matter of risk. And perhaps the fact that everything in life truly is a risk may give us more perspective on the trivial matters of dealing with individuals on an everyday basis and put them into context alongside our other decisions.

Sunset

Today, I found myself with an hour of time before I needed to accomplish anything. At that point, I wandered around and found myself outside of a particular door, perhaps without so much as meaning to, and looking at the sun go down. Let me just begin by saying that the sunset was gorgeous. It was magnificent. When I first looked at the sky, I could only begin to see the sun peering down through a layer of clouds. As I watched further, it crawled out into the clear mist below the clouds and nearly blinded me for nearly ten minutes. Then it finally dipped behind the line of trees and disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving me in darkness and cold at last. This took all of twenty minutes, but the thoughts I encountered throughout that period of time exceeded any that I could have imagined possible in such a short span.

It was outside of that door, eight months ago, that I stood with my ex, looking toward the sunset, watching the golden orb dip behind that same line of trees. The difference is that it was warm then, and I could feel the soft and fragrant breeze on my face, and I felt the warmth of an arm around my shoulders. It was such a changed experience today from what it had been then...I was so naive then, so convinced of the virtue of the person who stood at my side. And now, now I was in a cloud of sorrow, an isolated island of bitter reality. It wasn't merely the cold wind blasting my face, nor the harsh reflections of fading light on the icy earth...it was a state of mind.

In the space of the past year, from before that relationship to where I am now, I have lost so much. And it is not a matter of obvious innocence or the lack of certain experiences. I have lost much faith in humanity, I have lost trust for people, and I have utterly lost any desire to ever look on someone as I once looked on the person beside me that day. So here I am, eight months later, in a stuffy room with the heat blasting to keep the bitter cold of the outside air away from my face, remembering the feel of that warm, blessed breeze, still trying to understand just what has happened since then. It was twenty minutes. It was a sunset. But the blur of memories and emotions that it evoked was far more than I was prepared for, and I spent the rest of my day, up through this moment, trying to understand it, to possibly come to terms with it, or at the very least, to fully accept it. And I don't know that I have.

Unexpected Joys

I've been so behind the past couple of days...ugh, I hate being this scatterbrained. But then again, something happened five minutes ago that completely made today worthwhile, despite all the ups and downs and hell knows what else. I found kindness somewhere where I did not expect to see it, I received a gift that I have absolutely no right to claim. But even so, it has been offered to me and I cannot decline, either. So this wonderfully miraculous occurrence of five minutes ago has given me a bit of a new perspective on the day and how it's passed.

Somehow, everything is automatically better. Maybe it's the pleasant surprise of it all that triggered this mood, or maybe it's the fact that I'm so close to the holidays. Normally, the months between June and December drag ever so slowly with no holidays of major consequence to my family. But this year, it's all different. Where has the time gone? What happened to those six months that I normally long to escape? Even now, I find myself frantically looking for opportunities to see my closest friends in the next couple of weeks before even more time slips away under my nose.

I don't think I'm quite ready to start reflecting on the past year yet. After all, that's what I get to do as it gets nearer to the 30th or the 31st. But I can't help but think about how far I've come and everything that's happened. It's amazing how much things have changed and I've matured. Or at least it looks to me like I have. In the end it's all subjective anyway. I know, though, for a fact, that had I been in this situation a year ago, I would not have been able to handle it, or at least not nearly as well as I am now. Many people have told me that I deal with things well, and while I tend to doubt that when I'm at my worst (and it gets pretty bad), now is one of the times when I understand what they mean. Thank you to all of those people who never lost faith in me, even through all the hells I may have gotten myself into.

Contours of a Shadowed Rose

Liquid nitrogen is a lot of fun. Sorry, I'm still too tired to actually write anything intriguing or very coherent, so I'll resort to a description of my day and/or mental processes throughout the course thereof; hopefully that'll be tolerable for today. So someone poured liquid nitrogen over an eraser and (of course) it froze. And then someone else asked if it would shatter. That thought actually...shattered...(no pun intended) my thoughts. Everything came back through my haze of fatigue in a rush of memories.

One of the first things I thought of was what a friend had said about being able to put a rose into liquid nitrogen, and how it could shatter when you took it out. Then that brought me back to the night I finally decided to start this blog, and how I was asking that same friend for suggestions for titles. The name of this post is actually one of the things she suggested, among other things. But that's not the point of anything...and then I just remembered the circumstances around me at the time I started all of this. It was over a month ago now, although barely so, yet it feels like an eternity. Everything has changed. The people who I initially intended to read this blog have all either stopped reading it or do so without my knowledge, whereas many people I didn't expect to talk to about this are reading it now.

And everything was different in my life then, too. My views on things have changed in the space of a month. My hopes, my dreams, my desires...all of them have been altered. Today has been an interesting day. Some developments took place that amused me, and others which bring shadows to mind. There's something about writing this right now that really lets me step back and just think about my life. I can detach myself from the emotions and sorrows associated with it and just analyze them, in the scientific and precise manner that I by far prefer. That's not to say that I do not enjoy sentimentality or romance, because by all means, I do, but at the same time, being able to step out of it all is just so convenient when life takes a nasty turn.

I feel at peace right now. That phrase may be cliche, and the sentiment may be caused by the fact that I will hopefully be getting into bed half an hour from now, but it adequately expresses the processes of my mind right now. Even as I look at the mountains ahead of me, I can look behind me and see the crags that I have gone through before. Somehow, if only in my mind, that makes it all better. But what does it matter whether it is real or not? After all, it's that which lies in our minds that makes us most capable of dealing with the world around us.

Fatigue

I'm not sure that there's very much to write today. I'm tired. I think the sleep-deprivation has finally caught up because I can feel my eyes starting to droop and my mind floating off into space. I haven't come up with any brilliant realizations today, nor run across any wonderfully exciting articles, either. Oh well. I guess we all have these days sometimes where it's just a matter of getting through it and finally crawling into bed.

Then again, I guess I did have a bit of an adventure with someone...and I now have a new cut right across the center of my thumb. I really should stop forgetting about how sharp knives tend to be. Actually, I probably shouldn't even be using knives considering how tired I am. The whole day just feels like it's gone on forever. It's been a bit of a cross between exhausting, depressing, and overly entertaining. Those are always amusing, although confusing as well. Just several more days and I'll finally be able to sleep in. And to think it's only Monday...my goodness.

I'll probably actually just curl up to bed in a couple of minutes when I finish typing this. I can barely even keep my eyes open anymore. I'm sorry for the lack of a coherent topic in this post or anything even slightly worthwhile, but I'm tired. And the past few days have been pretty good in my opinion. Hopefully I'll get enough sleep to have something interesting by tomorrow. But for now, I'll wish everyone a good night and sweet dreams, as I go to rest my weary head on a nice, soft pillow and float off into the wonders of my subconscious....

Evaluation

I've been avoiding work today. And I haven't been in the best mood either, since half of my weekend was stolen by obligations and the rest was spent rather unproductively. So here I am, further avoiding that work by describing how I avoided it earlier today. Oh the nonsense I've resorted to. Anyway, I ran across an interesting article today (yes, another one) about friendship. Which is actually a very appropriate topic, since it's been on my mind quite a bit lately. Here's the link...but just a warning, it's a rather long article, although definitely worth reading:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200611/friendship-the-laws-attraction

Well, I've been thinking quite a bit about friendship recently, and I think it may have even entered some of the conversations I have. I rather like the article, it seems to really incorporate an understanding of the connection that we call friendship, and I personally find that I largely agree. Off the top of my head, I daresay that trust and reciprocity are the most important elements of friendship, together with interaction, without which such a bond could not be forged or maintained. Although I've generally maintained that opinion for a while, the article really delineated my thoughts clearly and articulated them in a way that I couldn't have thought to express.

So with that in mind, I've been re-evaluating some of my friendships. I've seen some of the people who were closest to me slip away without so much as a word, and I felt entirely powerless to stop that process. Even now, I feel as though that is happening around me. There are four people whom I trust more than anybody else and who have the clearest idea of what goes on in my life from my perspective--they are my closest friends. Yet even as I think that, I see myself being less willing to share certain thoughts with them and I watch one person beginning to completely slip away. Perhaps it is there that it is best to start my analysis, because I do not want to lose another friendship like I have before.

As with everyone else, there are certain things I cannot discuss with this person--there are barriers there. And I completely understand why those particular barriers are there and why they should not be transcended. But at the same time, it's rather difficult to maintain a conversation with someone when your first thoughts upon seeing them are the very things you know you cannot talk to them about. Then it becomes frustrating as you try to fish for a conversational topic to avoid losing the friendship but at the same time worry about what is really in your mind. At the same time, I feel the distance that has grown between us because of the distinct wall that has been raised.

The conversation used to flow freely and encompass all topics, from funny occurrences to the deepest of emotions. Now, the list of topics has been curtailed and there are some we both know to be taboo...of course those are the ones most often in mind. Because of the barriers, those stupid lines that, as much as I may not like them, I know full well need to have been drawn, I feel the friendship falling apart. I miss the way it used to be. But at the same time, I can't say that...I can't just ask to have back what there was before because those walls are up for a reason, a reason that I know well, and I would be breaking every bond of this friendship if I was to ask for them to be lowered. The very irony of this situation stands out so poignantly--I would destroy the friendship if I tried to fight for it.

The pain of this person falling away from me in my life is perhaps among my most prominent of emotions recently, together with questioning the meaning of life. Yet I also feel the distance beginning to develop with my other friends. And that is no less painful because suddenly, there is nobody who I can trust with everything. I hide something from everybody. That's the one thing I really miss of being in a relationship--the sheer individual, complete, entirely honest and supportive connection with someone. Even when I distribute the more or less secret truths of my mind among my closest friends, I find myself lacking in someone to whom I can entirely exhaust the convoluted emotions that overwhelm me at times. On the other hand, I try to be appreciative of the people who I am still close to, if not as close as I may wish.

Maybe I am changing a lot, maybe that is why I feel more distant from my friends. The problem with that is my introverted nature, my tendency to avoid people unless I am forced to encounter them. That in itself has this wonderful (note the sarcasm) consequence of alienating me from many potential friends unless they approach me...which, considering the fact that I tend to get along better with quieter individuals, is one of the worst ways of making new friends. I guess that sometimes, things just change. And then life adjusts to it. Sure, maybe I'll have a couple of weeks or months where I have few close friends, but it's happened before and I've made it through it. When it's necessary, I believe I'll be able to connect with people, and hopefully that will be good enough.

That was a rather long and somewhat ranting post. But there was definitely a lot in there that I just needed to get out of my mind and into some other form of expression. I apologize sincerely if any part of that didn't flow as well as it should have, but much of it was rather impassioned and my emotions are not always very keen on the rules of proper grammar. I also figured out that the reason I started writing so late was because this has been on my mind a lot, but I needed to take a bit of time and figure out how to put it in order, so that I could logically sort it out when I put it into words and coherent phrases. And now, I can take a deep breath, filled with the relief of having completed that, and get back to work.

Forty-Two

Yes, the title of this post really is 42...which for all Douglas Adams fans means the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. And I sincerely apologize, as I have not yet discovered the question. Anyway...my mind is all over the place right now. So guess who was bored lately, and too tired to work, and sick of spider solitaire? Yep...that would be me. I decided that a better use of my time would be going on Stumbleupon.com (always fun). Interestingly enough, this is the first thing I came to, and I found it worthy of posting about:

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1qGZYN/pjammer.livejournal.com/172181.html

Especially the quote at the end of the post really made me think (and if you're too lazy to read the full entry, which is totally worth reading, here's the quote).

Human beings never think for themselves, they find it too uncomfortable. For the most part, members of our species simply repeat what they are told--and become upset if they are exposed to any different view. The characteristic human trait is not awareness but conformity, and the characteristic result is religious warfare. Other animals fight for territory or food; but, uniquely in the animal kingdom, human beings fight for their 'beliefs.' The reason is that beliefs guide behavior, which has evolutionary importance among human beings. But at a time when our behavior may well lead us to extinction, I see no reason to assume we have any awareness at all. We are stubborn, self-destructive conformists. Any other view of our species is just a self-congratulatory delusion.

-Michael Crichton, The Lost World

Hopefully now the title of my post has started to make a bit more sense and actually connect. And in case it hasn't, I'll briefly explain. Lately, I've been thinking (and posting) quite a bit about the meaning of life, why we live, what makes it worthwhile, that sort of thing. This quote goes along with it quite well. As for the Douglas Adams reference...I'm not sure; as I said before, my mind is still all over the place and I'm tired. So now to actually, you know, write something useful or insightful (hopefully) about that quote...

There's definitely something to it. And by "it," I mean the fact that humans fight for beliefs while all normal animals fight for territory and food and whatnot. They have to fight for survival, their whole lives are struggles just to stay alive. Humans have eliminated that need. For us, it's almost a given that we will still be alive a day from now, a month, a year. And because of that, we've shifted our focus away from survival and onto other more, perhaps trivial is the right word, topics.

We're no longer worried about having food or water. Even finding a mate in our lives does not carry the pressing need that it does in the animal kingdom. Now we can worry about just how we look, and what useless technicalities we know or need to know about the composition of spider silk and atmospheric pressure. We'd still be alive even without that knowledge, but suddenly we have made it a requirement to know such things in order to be not only successful in society, but even merely acceptable.

In a way, we have taken all meaning out of our own lives. Life is no longer a question, it is not the struggle that it used to be, and that leaves us with something so precious yet so futile...the concept of which we even created ourselves: time. Now, we have the time to do more than just stare at the stars and tell stories about them--we can find out what they're made of and how far away they are and how quickly they're moving and where...because now we have the time to develop and use the tools required for such a pursuit. So often, people say that time is so precious and that there's not enough of it.

But maybe that's the opposite of the problem. Maybe we just have too much time in our lives. If we didn't have this much time, we would have a meaning, a purpose in life...and that would be to stay alive. Simple, clear-cut, essential, and realistic in most cases. As much as we try, it's not possible to set that sort of purpose for ourselves today without reaching the edge of suicide. And even then not only is the emotion involved different, but so is the method and logic behind that edge of survival. In that case, it is a matter of crawling toward that edge, not running away from the pull that it exerts over you. Life isn't as simple as it used to be...and there's nothing we can really do about it but make the most of it. I'm still asking questions, looking to see what I can find.

As an afterthought, if you happen to find my question, could you please return it to me promptly...my answer is rather lonely all by itself as the title of this post.

Not Like Newton

We always hear about those crazy scientists. We know Einstein had the crazy hair, Marie Curie worked with radioactive isotopes without giving a care, and whoever it was who discovered saccharine breathed noxious fumes when mixing chemicals together as a kid. But somehow we never see Isaac Newton in that light. Sure, the apple fell on his head and magically he knew the laws of gravity. But nothing in that makes him sound like the mad scientist that others are. So here's a little-known part of the story (and I promise, this has a point beyond being merely entertaining).

On his death-bed, Newton said that he was glad he was dying a virgin because it meant he had not been distracted from his great purpose in life. Throughout his life, he had sincerely believed that God had put him upon the earth specifically to rediscover the lost knowledge of the ancient philosophers. He had thought that he wasn't inventing calculus, but really finding morsels of truth that the wiser philosophers of days gone by had known. It is said that he was so dedicated to his work that he forgot to eat, even didn't straighten up to get out of his chair when going to get another book from across the room...and yes, he was still studying while walking.

So maybe Newton had it all right--live life for a single, god-given purpose and dedicate yourself to it entirely and whole-heartedly. But at the same time, that's not how life works for most of us, or at least not in this age and time. So how do we live? Most of us just suck it up and take a deep breath...then we live through today just to make it to the next, and so on and so forth until we finally die. I heard once that existentialism tends to grip individuals in their youth or their teenage years, but after a while it fades and life somehow resumes a balance. I certainly haven't reached the point when it disappears as an influence yet, and I can't really see that happening at all, not to mention in the near future.

We live our lives like this and then we always wonder why nothing works out and we fall to pieces. So maybe Newton did have something right...the need for a goal, the need to live for something, whatever that may be. Some people live for their religion, others for their friends. What about me though, what do I live for? I'm not sure. Sometimes I've said that I live for moments...but that's not entirely true. Other times I've said that it's for people...but even that I find myself doubting. So why am I still here? Why am I still alive, even after everything that's happened. I'll put it bluntly and honestly: it's a miracle that my ex didn't drive me to suicide. And I'm not exaggerating. Why not? Why did I persevere through that? Why do I continue to bear it?

I still don't really know. I've had countless moments when I've cracked and crumbled. I've had days when I did everything I could to avoid people so that I could spend another hour crying about my failure at life. After all of that, I'm still here. After all of that, I'm still living. I've had the distinct thought before of "I don't want to live," but it hasn't changed anything. That's not even just my occasional depression. I honestly have no idea why I'm still here. Maybe it's for the days like today when someone tells me, "I think you're the only person I can really count on anymore." So certainly, I may not have been having an amazing day. And maybe, just maybe I didn't want to be strong or supportive...but I was. I'm damn glad of that too. One thing I know though, is that I won't die like Isaac Newton...because I want to experience things and make the most out of life while I can.

Love

So I'm posting later today than I normally would, but that's because I've been busy. I got back probably around an hour ago and I've been working since then. On the other hand, I had a bit of a conversation, and I guess it warrants a post on that oh-so-wonderful topic that I feel just needs to be touched on occasionally in writing...just because: Love. Yes, the L-word that people talk about, wonder about, dream about, fret over. It never fails to be interesting...to say the least.

I once read in a book, "A crush is the path to a secret heartache." I guess I understood it then. But at the same time, it is one of the most wonderful feelings known to man--one of the most hopeful, gracious, excited emotions we can experience is love for another person. I personally haven't been fond of using the word "crush"...it fell out of fashion for me many years ago. But at the same time, those five letters, the single syllable, it all carries such a light yet poignant essence that explains the simplicity and the complexity alike of that medley of emotions.

On the other hand, though...isn't a crush nothing more than unrequited love? Is it nothing short of heartbreak and an unreturned set of emotions? Perhaps it is. But when we are bound up in such a love, we often find ourselves missing out on what we long for most--the excitement, the hope, the sensation of never knowing what will happen next, of always being tense for what may come to pass. Too often, we think of ourselves as trapped by the feeling, restrained in our actions and our words, left to the whim of those from whom we fell. What we forget to see is that really, we are leaping among clouds, smiling and laughing when we least expect to, constantly hoping, perpetually distracted by one sweet thought or another.

While it is the most crippling feeling, love is also the most liberating. People don't want to fall in love because they don't want to be hurt by it anymore. But it isn't the love that causes the pain...it's everything surrounding it, it's the fallout of unpleasant emotions after such elation that does. Human nature is a forgetful one, and no matter how deeply a heart has been hurt, it has the inevitable tendency to eventually forgive. That's what makes love such a wonderful adventure--from the playful glances and uncertain beginnings, to the painful solitude that may mark the end--it is a journey. It is a trip we all take at least once in a while, whether for pure amusement or because it means the world to us. Love has a magic all its own; never, ever let yourself forget.

Scars

Scars may fade, but they never truly disappear. The experiences underlying them may have passed away entirely years before, but the scars are still there as reminders. They serve to bring everything back in a flood of memories. Beneath every scar, there is a story. It may be fascinating, enthralling, terrifying, or surprising. Regardless, each scar has a tale to tell, be it of cowardice or courage, of weakness or of strength. Scars tell us about the battles we have fought, against nature, against others, and against ourselves.

Somehow, patterns on the skin are never really that simple. It's all about the experiences we've had; the days we will always remember, the nights we will never forget. Looking back into the past, be it because of a scar or not, never fails to bring back a surge of emotions and memories, a remnant of the time that was. The past is not shrouded in mystery as is the future, but it lies before us, anchored firmly down, leading clearly back, unobstructed. But the distance makes the shapes grow pale and the emotions run together to the point where we can no longer distinguish what has been from what we merely imagined.

So here I stand, looking back on the path I took to get to this moment, and I wonder what could have been different? What would have happened had I taken a step to the side at any point? I know I can't go back and change what's done, but that doesn't stop me from wondering. At the same time, I turn around and look to my future, covered in mists, entirely uncertain. I ponder what may happen, what scars I will bear on my body and my heart when the time comes to that. These scars will never really disappear and more will be added. Perhaps when it comes time, I will be nothing more than a patchwork of scars--the stories and experiences they relate to the world, the secrets they bear and cover beneath the skin.

As I look on what has been and is to come, I can take a deep breath and refocus on the present, because I've lived in the past before, and I've lived in the future, but none of that ever really works too well. So back I go to the moment that I'm in right now, the work and people who surround me, and leave my pondering of the river of time behind me, for the moment, at least.

Blanket of Snow

I look out the window and see the snow falling. Like a sheet descending on the world, it wraps everything in silence. It brings down a stillness that is rarely seen. The wind, the lights, the cold...suddenly they lose all power and it's just you. You alone in the snow. You separate from the world. Just you.

As much as I may dislike the snow, the wind, the cold, I can't help but be held enthralled by the stillness of snow falling. It's a mystery, it's beautiful, it's powerful and emotional. It stills the fire and the passion that makes us angry and upset and gives us a second to just live. Somehow, everything is better. Something about it makes it all okay, even if we know it isn't, for a moment, we can just let it go and breathe. Finally, I'm calm. Finally, I'm not worried or in the middle of a breakdown.

The snow falls onto the trees, covers the bare branches. In the light cast by every lamp, the snowflakes are illuminated and glitter as they sail closer and closer to the soft padding of snow already lining the ground. The wind blows, the wonderful white powder sails around, landing in hair, on jackets, hitting the faces of people with a cold blast. Yet somehow, it is no less incredible. It's nights of snowy silence that we remember, the nights that we spend looking out the window into the cold and thinking. Everything else is gone...the remainder of the world is obliterated.

A deep breath. A soft sigh not heard by anyone. Slowly laying my head on my hands, my gaze transfixed on a point outside the window in the darkness. Nobody knows. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. All is silent. All is still. Another second ticks by, followed by another minutes, another hour. Time has ceased to matter. The world has rolled on, but it doesn't matter. Nothing does. It's just me. I'm slowly fading into oblivion, lost behind the curtain of snow falling outside. Nothing is moving, and nothing is real anymore. So that's all there is to it. It is beautiful, glorious, but most importantly, it's me. Just. Me.

Critique of Life?

I'm tired, I'm frustrated, I'm angry. I'm sick of society. We're raised in an environment that encourages us to strive for the top, to reach for the best, yet when we hit that point, all we get is animosity and snide remarks. This is a society that stresses accomplishment then proceeds to scorn it. And because of that, it's not even worth it to do well. If you do well, you are held not only above others, but entirely separately...it's like being put in a glass box and seeing everyone looking in at you as an alien when you realize that really there is no difference.

I'm sick and tired of even talking about this. Life is unfair, I know, I know; but that doesn't change the fact of the present. It's annoying and pathetic, and really not worthwhile. The whole thing I had of feeling better yesterday really hasn't helped. My mood has deteriorated back into an angry depression, where I spend my hours accomplishing nothing and trying my hardest to avoid people. So here I am, pounding away at my keyboard, which I don't really even want to be doing right now. I'm just sick of it all. Simple as that. The sheer hypocrisy of the world we live in is astounding and infuriating.

Alright, I think that was enough ranting. And since I'm not exactly in the best mood, I'll just wrap this up. But here's just something to think about: if you're going to look down on someone or push them away because of their answer to a question, just don't ask the damn question. Really, it's not that hard, yet somehow the human race has reached a new level of stupidity by dividing itself to an unimaginable degree. So instead of filling up space with empty musings and ravings, I'll just go back to quietly playing spider solitaire and avoiding work, hoping that music will make me feel a bit better...although it's not looking like it will.

Ups and Downs

Maybe I was right...or was I wrong? I don't know what exactly my thoughts have been in the past several days, and I'm not going to try figuring them out. I guess all I really needed right now were people. People to talk to, to relate with. At the same time as I was avoiding human contact, I think it may have been exactly what I needed. But on the plus side, I do feel better now. I don't feel like melting into the earth for the first time in a week. Yes, there are still many things weighing on me, there are many problems that I have yet to resolve and burdens I have yet to carry, but I think I've finally been able to take a deep breath. It's getting better.

I'm beginning to realize that life goes in cycles...we all have ups and downs, things get better and they get worse. If we hold on for long enough, we'll get through it, no matter how hard holding on may be. It's one of those things you can keep telling yourself and really believing fully when happy, but at the same time, it is most impossible to believe when you really need to...when you're falling apart and ready to crumble. Am I strong for being able to hold on? Or am I weak for needing to cling instead of balancing nimbly? Does it matter? Well, I know the answer to that last question...of course not. But that's okay. It may affect the way I live my life, but not to the extent of really disrupting it, or at least I don't think so.

In the end, it all works out. Maybe not in the way we wanted it to or the way we thought it would or the way we hoped, but it does work out somehow. I've said it before and I'll say it again, because I really believe it. Sometimes we suck it up and deal, and other times we can ride high on the wave of life that we enjoy. That's just how it works. I largely live my life the way a taoist does...what happens happens. Simple. Life goes on, things happen, the world changes; it doesn't have to be for an ultimate purpose nor does it need to have a tremendous effect on anything else. It really is nice to finally be able to breathe though, even though tomorrow is Monday again.

Losing It All

I'm watching my life fall apart. I see my friends growing distant, my dreams getting shattered, my hopes already smashed. I can still get it back, I think. But the question I'm asking myself now is, "is it even worth it?" Is putting up the fight worth everything that would come out of it? How can I even know when I don't know what would result? That's the problem. I don't know. Anything. These words don't even really make sense anymore. I'm just writing. Tapping at the keyboard, hoping that the letters appearing in front of me carry some weight or reason. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing by now. I'm just letting it come to pass.

I had a dream last night. I forgot it. I did something this morning. I don't remember that. Perhaps the most frustrating part of it all really is seeing my friends moving away from me...be it on purpose or just as a coincidence. At the same time as I don't want company, I don't want to be alone, either. Maybe if I picked myself up and got my life back together things would work again, and I'd be able to open up and talk to people. That may be the case, but it still doesn't feel like it. I doubt this is making any sense. I'm tired. I can't think...I say that often, but now it's definitely true, there's a fog in my brain and nothing flows anymore. It's all hazy confusion and I just want to talk to someone. But I rather doubt that's going to happen.

And I see it all drifting apart. I can see it happening. It's not like a subtle change or a huge knock-down. I can watch it happening and that makes it that much more painful. I don't know if I can do this anymore, just watch it crashing down. But at the same time, I don't think I have the strength to get up and actually do anything about it. Maybe all I need is time away from it all, but the problem is that I can't get that time. I literally can't...not now, not for another two weeks. And then I wonder whether time away from it would help any at all or if it would just make everything worse. I feel better than I did for the past couple of days, but nothing works either way...it's all falling apart, and I'm still not capable of holding it all together. So here I sit, hoping that I will at least be able to salvage something from all of this before it all collides.

What About Me?

I spend so much of my time helping others. I listen to people ranting, I'm a shoulder for them to cry on, I give them suggestions when they're in a tough spot, I hug them and let them just be...whoever, whatever they want or need to be around me. I try to be there for them when they need me, whether it's what I want to do or not. So what about me? Why is nobody here for me? One person knows that I'm depressed right now. One person who I could talk to. Why? Because nobody else has said anything to me, has bothered to notice that I need help. Sure, I don't necessarily want the help, but I at least want to be able to stop lying about my life being "fine."

I want to be able to just fall apart in front of someone, to just let everything go and be honest for once. But I can't. I don't want to burden anyone, and I don't want anyone to just have to sit there and listen to me break down. Life isn't fair, yes, believe me, I'm fully aware of that. At the same time, here I am, falling to pieces, trying to just barely stay afloat. And it's not working. I feel myself going further and further down, I know that everything is just getting worse and worse and making less and less sense as I go. This is the worst it's ever been. I may have said that before; well now it's worse. I think I need someone to just be open with, and I can't be. I can't burden my friends like that, and especially not when they have their own problems and didn't ask for any of mine.

It probably seems like I'm trying to be the benevolent, self-sacrificing, moronically prideful fool right now, and maybe I am. I don't care anymore. I honestly don't care. I've let so much go, because I'm just not capable of holding on. I'm falling. And I don't think anybody can see. So either I've become extremely good at hiding the truth, or everyone else has become ridiculously oblivious to those around them. Which is it? Does it even matter? No. It doesn't. It's not going to change anything anyway. Maybe it wouldn't even change anything if I did have someone to talk to...so why bother? Really, why do I even bother anymore? Because I have nothing better to do? I don't know. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

The String

I'm hanging on to life by a thread. This string of sustenance is barely carrying me. I still feel like I'm falling, but I'm still here...still hanging. I think that string is music. I can't think of a single minute in the past three days when I could have listened to music and didn't. I've been fighting to just stay above the water. Everything is still falling to pieces, but I'm clinging to sound. It's the only sensation I can really feel. Talking to people has no effect on me, I have no sense of emotion in that context...it's just breaths going in and out, air running over my vocal cords, causing sound to emerge from my mouth, there's no tone in my speech anymore, everything has run together into a monotone. I'm almost surprised that someone hasn't asked a question about it yet, but at the same time, I'm relieved...after all, I have been trying to at least seem normal so that my friends don't worry.

Even now music is blasting, making life tolerable. I couldn't sit here in silence right now if I had to. I feel like I'm literally drowning, and I don't want to be pulled up. I'm just fine floating in the harmonies of sound right now, I don't need anything else. I don't want to deal with people, I don't want to work or talk or move. Sitting in a chair right now, I feel myself curling my body as much as the seat will allow me to, and wishing that a curtain would descend around me, separating me from the rest of the world. "I died for the last lie, and the heartbreak; for the first time, I could not take..." (Okay, I Feel Better Now--AFI). That fits so well right now. I'm drained, shattered, broken.

Although at the same time, I don't feel any of it. Maybe it's the music that I've used to shield myself from the world, maybe the fact that I haven't gone to dinner for five days now, or maybe it's simply a lack of emotion for no good reason at all. I'm existent. That's all I can say when people ask me how I am. I can't even pull of my usual "good, how are you?" nonsense. I'm lying to some of my closest friends about how I am. Is that bad? Probably. Am I going to change it? Absolutely not. It's gotten to the point where I just don't want to get better. Simple as that. I'm content to remain where I am in my life. I don't need to care or feel, I'll just keep drifting through it slowly, clinging to my string.

Darkness

I'm not afraid to admit that I need help. I'm just not willing to ask for it. And if it was offered to me without solicitation, I don't know whether I would or wouldn't accept it. Depression...sucks. I guess that's a reasonable way to put it mildly. I'm exhausted, and it's not just the normal lack of sleep. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to talk to anyone. And I've spent the past two days in tears whenever I've been alone. I don't want to turn this into a self-pity post, but that's what it looks like it's becoming.

Everything is going wrong. I am buried under infinite piles of work and obligation. My own emotions are smothering my reason, and all I want to do is curl up under the covers and forget that the world exists. At the same time, this is a very peaceful existence. Very little can actually truly bother me...or at least more than I've already bothered myself. So at this point, I've just settled down and prepared to move on with the hell that is my life right now. I'm not entirely sure what the hell I'm doing anymore, but I'm just going along with it, possibly only because I'm too tired to actually make any change in that.

The world is crashing down around me and I've given up the fight. I'll sit here calmly and watch it fall, because to me that is less painful than trying to stop and being beaten down by the pieces coming down. I've heard before that depression had physical pain associated with it. I never understood that until now. I can't move without an effort, and I can barely drag myself out of bed in the mornings anymore. I'm sorry to those around me, because I literally cannot bring myself out of this. I've tried, and I still put on the masks to help people when they need it...but on the inside, there's nothing left. I know things are never going to be the same as before, and I wonder if it's even possible for them to ever be alright again. Then again, it doesn't even matter...that doesn't affect the way I live my life or the steps I take from here on out. At this point, every breath I take is only so that I can take the next one...nothing more.

Waiting

All day, I have waited for a conversation to take place. It's a perfectly rational conversation, too...one that just might happen. Here's how it would go:

[someone]: how are you?

me: you want the truth?

[someone]: sure

me: I feel depressed as all hell

I don't know why I've been expecting that conversation or waiting for it, for that matter. Well it hasn't happened. And for that matter, it's not going to. At least not today. It really doesn't matter though. It's not like that would accomplish anything for me. Frankly, it's better that that conversation doesn't happen. That way I'm not a burden on anyone else, I get to deal with my life the way I want to do it, without somebody trying to make me feel better.

Then again, sometimes I wish that someone would try to improve my mood when I feel like this...just for once. I've been listening to a song on repeat all day, putting off all work, with the blinds down and the door locked. I've been in isolation. I don't want to see people, I don't want to deal with them. I can't finish anything and that's just adding to the weight on me right now. I should be happy...today, I had two people who I greatly respect tell me my virtues and offer to help me get where I want to get in life. At the same time, I barely avoided failing an important evaluation and my emotions are still tearing me to pieces.

That's the one thing I miss about being in a relationship--having someone to cling to, someone to go to no matter how terrible you feel. It's someone who is always going to be there, someone you can actually trust to break down around. But then again, I honestly don't know if I'm ever going to let myself trust someone that much again. Considering how I feel right now, I rather doubt it. If I'm lucky, I just might survive today and make it to a restful sleep. How much lying and putting on false faces that's going to take, you have no idea. Here goes nothing.

Distraction

Here I sit in front of my computer, as I have been for the past couple of hours. I still can't get any work done. The documents in front of me are the last things on my mind. Yes, I realize that I need to complete them by tomorrow, but somehow that doesn't bother me. I've got other things to think about. So here I am, distracting myself by listening to music and blogging, all while thinking thoughts that I can't exactly put my finger on even though I know they're there.

I'm fidgety. My legs are shaking as I sit here trying to think. I can't focus on anything. My thoughts are rambling and raving all over the place, I can't track a single one down. I guess there are some things that can make us react in different ways without realizing it. The same things that make us tremble with excitement, shiver with joy, those can also freeze us with fear, cast us down in sorrow. It depends on the context and on our interpretation of those thoughts or occurrences. Then again, what doesn't depend on our perceptions of things?

And my attention span is grabbed again and pulled in a different direction: the cold. My window is open, and my hands are freezing on my keyboard, but my body feels perfectly warm. It's almost to the point where I want to leave the window open overnight, even though I know it's far too cold for that. That probably has something to do with the fidgeting, or my thoughts being too scattered to really concentrate on any given sensation for too long. It's like I feel numb. When I take a second to step back and evaluate my current emotions, I feel none.

It's like there's an empty core inside of my body. I don't feel the cold, I don't feel hunger. I have no sense of emotion. I can feel the chill in my fingers and the soreness in my back, I am aware of my hands tapping the keys in front of my computer, but I do not really feel it in the way I normally do. Even nerves, happiness, anger, excitement, panic, confusion are all dulled in my mind at present. Everything seems empty. I am an empty core, the remaining shell of something that has been blasted to bits and no longer exists. This emptiness is fascinating. Part of me wants to revel in this newfound sensation, or lack thereof, but the rest of me is perfectly content to just sit here staring off into space, not moving nor thinking.