In all honesty, I had a distinct phrase in mind. I was going to say something specific. I wanted those to be the only words out of my mouth. I wanted to say,
If I had a single shred of self-respect left, I would have given you an ultimatum a hell of a long time ago.
But things didn't go as planned. It didn't work out the way it should have. And I sure as hell didn't say those words. As it turns out, that's the first time that phrase is leaving my mind in the form of words of any sort, be they spoken or written.
I didn't say them not because they weren't true...perhaps they were, or still are. I realized though, that that's far from the only reason I haven't given an ultimatum. And I understand now that for a number of reasons, I'm not going to. But what happened in that space of time when I didn't say that phrase, that is precisely what I'm not going to forgive myself for.
I can't forgive myself for it because I walked away when I should have moved closer. I cut off communication when I should have sought it further. And I know just how much of a mistake all of that was. I almost wish I didn't, except I know that not to be the case. I know I can't undo it, can't fix what I have done. I know I can't make everything go away. So I guess now I just have to live with my mistakes.
So I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did and for what I didn't do. I'm sorry for messing up...again. I'm sorry for not being there when I needed to be. I'm sorry for being me, for messing up, for ruining things, as I consistently manage to do. I'm sorry. That's all I can say to half-express my thought process right now.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Discrete
I've always tended to consider myself a rather discrete person as far as what I do and don't say. What I do, when I do it, and who I do it with, I most often consider to be information that the world doesn't need to know. And although I've never been a particular advocate of the phrase "I don't kiss and tell," I do nonetheless rather tend to practice that behavior.
On the contrary, though, most people I know have the opposite approach to their lives. They advertise their activities not only to their friends, but to the rest of the world, as well. It's as though publicizing an event gives it greater significance or raises the individual sharing that story in the regard of those around them. All too often, though, that isn't true.
So why do I not scatter the stories of my life to everyone and anyone, or even to most, if not all, of my friends? Out of common courtesy and respect. I'd say respect for anyone involved, for myself, and for the people I'm telling, but I rather lost respect for myself, so that's no longer very true. However, I still maintain this out of a respect for those around me, whether they are involved in the situation or not.
I am firmly of the belief that what happens between any number of individuals should stay between those individuals unless it is either damn near meaningless or mutually agreed to be shared, or otherwise benefits from being revealed. People who are involved in the situation will inevitably stay involved, if only by way of recalling given events, and those who are not tend to be better off remaining uninvolved, because so long as the situation isn't about them, they have absolutely no business sticking their nose in it.
That's why I tend to be reserved with information entrusted to me and with information regarding myself. Has it screwed me over in the past? Certainly. More often than I would like? Absolutely. Is that going to make me change the way I live and deal with things? Hell no. Because I'll take that little bit of unpleasant consequence to keep whatever information quiet for those around me.
I hesitate to go to people for advice because of this aspect of my life. I don't want to be a burden on them, and I don't want to reveal more than they need to know (which in itself tends to be pretty much nothing). So yes, this most definitely backfires every so often in my life. But it also leads to closer connections with people.
Because once I get close to someone, close enough to actually reveal information about myself, my emotions, my more personal sentiments and thoughts...I get very close, and I try to typically not lose friends like that. Admittedly, it happens on occasion, but I try not to let it, because it takes a hell of a lot for me to trust someone that much. And god knows I have enough trust issues that have built up over the years.
So yes, I do tend to be discrete and reserved involving both myself and others. I do it with reason. That is how I live my life, and for the sake of those around me, I do not intend to change it. Simple as that.
On the contrary, though, most people I know have the opposite approach to their lives. They advertise their activities not only to their friends, but to the rest of the world, as well. It's as though publicizing an event gives it greater significance or raises the individual sharing that story in the regard of those around them. All too often, though, that isn't true.
So why do I not scatter the stories of my life to everyone and anyone, or even to most, if not all, of my friends? Out of common courtesy and respect. I'd say respect for anyone involved, for myself, and for the people I'm telling, but I rather lost respect for myself, so that's no longer very true. However, I still maintain this out of a respect for those around me, whether they are involved in the situation or not.
I am firmly of the belief that what happens between any number of individuals should stay between those individuals unless it is either damn near meaningless or mutually agreed to be shared, or otherwise benefits from being revealed. People who are involved in the situation will inevitably stay involved, if only by way of recalling given events, and those who are not tend to be better off remaining uninvolved, because so long as the situation isn't about them, they have absolutely no business sticking their nose in it.
That's why I tend to be reserved with information entrusted to me and with information regarding myself. Has it screwed me over in the past? Certainly. More often than I would like? Absolutely. Is that going to make me change the way I live and deal with things? Hell no. Because I'll take that little bit of unpleasant consequence to keep whatever information quiet for those around me.
I hesitate to go to people for advice because of this aspect of my life. I don't want to be a burden on them, and I don't want to reveal more than they need to know (which in itself tends to be pretty much nothing). So yes, this most definitely backfires every so often in my life. But it also leads to closer connections with people.
Because once I get close to someone, close enough to actually reveal information about myself, my emotions, my more personal sentiments and thoughts...I get very close, and I try to typically not lose friends like that. Admittedly, it happens on occasion, but I try not to let it, because it takes a hell of a lot for me to trust someone that much. And god knows I have enough trust issues that have built up over the years.
So yes, I do tend to be discrete and reserved involving both myself and others. I do it with reason. That is how I live my life, and for the sake of those around me, I do not intend to change it. Simple as that.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Contentedness
I was talking to one of my closer friends recently about some things that have happened, and the results were...interesting (I know it's general, but it's all I can say; determine what it means for yourself). There's no sense in listing any particular details of the conversation, but the general idea was that I've actually been more or less happy recently.
What really struck me though, is when she said, "It's not like you're fluorescent, it's more like..." What she meant by fluorescent is basically an ecstatic overflow of happy or almost seemingly high euphoric emotion (long story, don't ask). And when she paused at the end of that, I offered her the word content. It turns out that's pretty much what she was looking for.
And she's right. I haven't been overly ecstatic at any point lately, but I have, on the whole, entered into a state of contentedness. Things aren't perfect. I still break down (take last night as evidence of that). But on the whole, I'm better off than I was. Overall, I can smile because I know that something actually works in my life...no matter how brief or transient it may be.
This is short-lived. The brief period when I can really enjoy it is quickly coming to an end. But I'm trying not to let that spoil the happiness I've recently found. The situation is far from ideal, and there is still a hell of a lot that can fall apart, especially in the near future. Regardless, I'm making the most of it. And right now, I am content.
What really struck me though, is when she said, "It's not like you're fluorescent, it's more like..." What she meant by fluorescent is basically an ecstatic overflow of happy or almost seemingly high euphoric emotion (long story, don't ask). And when she paused at the end of that, I offered her the word content. It turns out that's pretty much what she was looking for.
And she's right. I haven't been overly ecstatic at any point lately, but I have, on the whole, entered into a state of contentedness. Things aren't perfect. I still break down (take last night as evidence of that). But on the whole, I'm better off than I was. Overall, I can smile because I know that something actually works in my life...no matter how brief or transient it may be.
This is short-lived. The brief period when I can really enjoy it is quickly coming to an end. But I'm trying not to let that spoil the happiness I've recently found. The situation is far from ideal, and there is still a hell of a lot that can fall apart, especially in the near future. Regardless, I'm making the most of it. And right now, I am content.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tears
Come in.
Lock door.
Sit down.
Burst into tears.
That wasn't planned. Then again, is it ever?
I don't know why. I don't think I want to.
Nothing is inherently wrong.
Nothing is terribly broken in my life.
Nothing is overly amiss.
So why am I still here?
Why did I collapse into a broken heap?
Why can I not breathe without sobbing?
Why have I lost the ability to smile?
It's not that I don't care.
But at the same time, I really don't.
I've given up, and I don't know why.
I've fallen into depression, yet again.
And I can't get out.
What the hell happened?
Why doesn't it work anymore?
I'm not just tired.
I wish I was.
But I'm not.
I'm lost.
I wish I could find a reason.
I wish there was some way to make sense of it.
But it's not even rational.
So few things ever are.
And yet...
How much I wouldn't give to understand this...
Something is amiss.
I have absolutely no idea what.
But it is pervading every crevice of my life.
It is suffocating every possible thought of my mind.
I can't think.
I can't breathe.
I can't live like this.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
How am I supposed to get past this?
I don't want another three months of hell.
As if I haven't had enough of it yet.
It makes no sense.
How am I supposed to fix it when I don't know what's wrong?
What am I to do with whatever is happening?
And something needs to change.
I need to stop messing everything up.
I need to stop being a burden to those around me.
I need to stop falling apart.
I need to stop.
This isn't over.
I'm not done.
But what more can I say?
How can I explain when I don't know?
What can I say when I am this numb?
I don't know.
Lock door.
Sit down.
Burst into tears.
That wasn't planned. Then again, is it ever?
I don't know why. I don't think I want to.
Nothing is inherently wrong.
Nothing is terribly broken in my life.
Nothing is overly amiss.
So why am I still here?
Why did I collapse into a broken heap?
Why can I not breathe without sobbing?
Why have I lost the ability to smile?
It's not that I don't care.
But at the same time, I really don't.
I've given up, and I don't know why.
I've fallen into depression, yet again.
And I can't get out.
What the hell happened?
Why doesn't it work anymore?
I'm not just tired.
I wish I was.
But I'm not.
I'm lost.
I wish I could find a reason.
I wish there was some way to make sense of it.
But it's not even rational.
So few things ever are.
And yet...
How much I wouldn't give to understand this...
Something is amiss.
I have absolutely no idea what.
But it is pervading every crevice of my life.
It is suffocating every possible thought of my mind.
I can't think.
I can't breathe.
I can't live like this.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
How am I supposed to get past this?
I don't want another three months of hell.
As if I haven't had enough of it yet.
It makes no sense.
How am I supposed to fix it when I don't know what's wrong?
What am I to do with whatever is happening?
And something needs to change.
I need to stop messing everything up.
I need to stop being a burden to those around me.
I need to stop falling apart.
I need to stop.
This isn't over.
I'm not done.
But what more can I say?
How can I explain when I don't know?
What can I say when I am this numb?
I don't know.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Control
Control is an aspect that comes up in life on a regular basis. It determines the way we live, the actions we take, the decisions we reach, and the mistakes we stop ourselves from making. That's really the biggest things it comes back to...mistakes.
What happens when we lose control, when we let ourselves go and don't watch boundaries...that's when mistakes are made. Are they really mistakes, though? Is what happens when we lose control wrong, bad, immoral? That's what it becomes difficult to determine. What constitutes this thing called a mistake?
It appears so often that losing control is tantamount to committing errors. It appears to be the case that once we let our guard down, cease to think rationally, that is when we lead ourselves into a certain hell of sorts, one which throws us off and messes with our lives. But how much of it is really a major error, a true mistake?
It ultimately all comes down to definitions, in this case precisely how we define a mistake. Sometimes things seemingly go too far if we lose control. Other times, there is absolutely nothing apparently wrong with a given situation. All too often, we have no idea how to qualify it until it's over. We don't know if something was a mistake or not.
And sometimes, sometimes control just seems to disappear, be it out of elation, depression, fascination, or agony. Then we must try our best to not make mistakes, to not let our lives fall apart. We have to watch and see, and be careful about just where we allow things to go.
What happens next? I'll be damned if I know. But it's a matter of being careful, a matter of keeping a certain amount of control to not let everything fall to bits. I promised myself I wouldn't repeat what happened last year. And I'm keeping to that. I'm not letting everything go to pieces out of carelessness and foolish loss of control.
What happens when we lose control, when we let ourselves go and don't watch boundaries...that's when mistakes are made. Are they really mistakes, though? Is what happens when we lose control wrong, bad, immoral? That's what it becomes difficult to determine. What constitutes this thing called a mistake?
It appears so often that losing control is tantamount to committing errors. It appears to be the case that once we let our guard down, cease to think rationally, that is when we lead ourselves into a certain hell of sorts, one which throws us off and messes with our lives. But how much of it is really a major error, a true mistake?
It ultimately all comes down to definitions, in this case precisely how we define a mistake. Sometimes things seemingly go too far if we lose control. Other times, there is absolutely nothing apparently wrong with a given situation. All too often, we have no idea how to qualify it until it's over. We don't know if something was a mistake or not.
And sometimes, sometimes control just seems to disappear, be it out of elation, depression, fascination, or agony. Then we must try our best to not make mistakes, to not let our lives fall apart. We have to watch and see, and be careful about just where we allow things to go.
What happens next? I'll be damned if I know. But it's a matter of being careful, a matter of keeping a certain amount of control to not let everything fall to bits. I promised myself I wouldn't repeat what happened last year. And I'm keeping to that. I'm not letting everything go to pieces out of carelessness and foolish loss of control.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Last Words
Why are a person's last words regarded so highly? Why are they held above everything else that the person may have said in their life? What is it that makes people crowd around an individual's bedside and wait for those final words to be uttered, hanging on every syllable as if it was a truth more profound than life itself?
Certainly, by the end of life, one would have a greater knowledge, a vaster wisdom, and perhaps even a better understanding of this thing called existence. But that isn't determined by the final moments before death, it's built up over the years into the total of their knowledge. I doubt there to be an epiphany that occurs right before the end that illuminates everything and necessitates a fantastic summary in a couple of whispered words.
A person's last words, in my opinion, should be no different than those they spoke throughout their entire life. What a person says or does, be it immediately before death or fifty years before they find themselves in that bed, is a reflection of their individual values, virtues, ideas, beliefs. What people say on an everyday basis is far more accurate in how they will be remembered than a broken fragment at the end of their life could be.
So why then are these words so carefully guarded, so greatly anticipated, so eagerly hoarded and clung to? Why do we attempt to place such a significance on those words which mean no more than any others that had once been said? Why do we attribute oh so much importance merely because of circumstance?
Certainly, by the end of life, one would have a greater knowledge, a vaster wisdom, and perhaps even a better understanding of this thing called existence. But that isn't determined by the final moments before death, it's built up over the years into the total of their knowledge. I doubt there to be an epiphany that occurs right before the end that illuminates everything and necessitates a fantastic summary in a couple of whispered words.
A person's last words, in my opinion, should be no different than those they spoke throughout their entire life. What a person says or does, be it immediately before death or fifty years before they find themselves in that bed, is a reflection of their individual values, virtues, ideas, beliefs. What people say on an everyday basis is far more accurate in how they will be remembered than a broken fragment at the end of their life could be.
So why then are these words so carefully guarded, so greatly anticipated, so eagerly hoarded and clung to? Why do we attempt to place such a significance on those words which mean no more than any others that had once been said? Why do we attribute oh so much importance merely because of circumstance?
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Feet
Alright, so I'm honestly not sure why. Much of what I could write right now is largely the same as I've written in the past couple of days--both the happy and the sad, the ups and the downs. So I don't know that that's very much worth repeating, and a couple of other things with both myself and other people are still unfolding, so I'll keep that out of this particular post.
But for some strange reason that I really don't know, I thought about feet for a solid couple of minutes today. And it seems almost random, and I really don't know why, but I did...so now I figured I might as well write about them. Just in case, I'll put in the disclaimer that I do not have a foot fetish or anything of the sort...I was just thinking about feet today, strange as that may be.
Feet. They're such interesting parts of our anatomy. On the one hand, they are extremely tough. They support our weight. They carry us through each and every day. Our feet are the base, the foundation--they take the pain, the burden, the roughness of everything we put our bodies through. Feet carry us through our lives, hold us up, take all of those beatings and the abuse of getting through life.
But on the other hand, they are so delicate, so gentle. All of those elegant curves, those supple indentations and soft patches of skin. Every toe follows a different line, the arch establishes its own sensitive domain. Veins running down by tendons, each motion outlined and accented by delicate structure and smooth lines.
This duality, this contrast, this uncertain interaction between two extremes...and it's all found in the feet. And even through all that, between both the hardship and the beauty, we never really seem to notice them. They serve their purpose and nothing more. Yet sometimes we have those brief moments, those spaces of time when we just look down and realize the sheer complexity and grace of these appendages.
So I'm not really sure why. But today was one of those days when I looked down at my feet, and I just realized the role they play in everyday life. That, and at the same time, I noticed just how much they're worth, just how sensitive and fragile, delicate and fascinating they can be. This is by far one of the stranger posts I've ever written, but at the same time, this brief epiphany interested me sufficiently. I guess that's what this is in the end.
But for some strange reason that I really don't know, I thought about feet for a solid couple of minutes today. And it seems almost random, and I really don't know why, but I did...so now I figured I might as well write about them. Just in case, I'll put in the disclaimer that I do not have a foot fetish or anything of the sort...I was just thinking about feet today, strange as that may be.
Feet. They're such interesting parts of our anatomy. On the one hand, they are extremely tough. They support our weight. They carry us through each and every day. Our feet are the base, the foundation--they take the pain, the burden, the roughness of everything we put our bodies through. Feet carry us through our lives, hold us up, take all of those beatings and the abuse of getting through life.
But on the other hand, they are so delicate, so gentle. All of those elegant curves, those supple indentations and soft patches of skin. Every toe follows a different line, the arch establishes its own sensitive domain. Veins running down by tendons, each motion outlined and accented by delicate structure and smooth lines.
This duality, this contrast, this uncertain interaction between two extremes...and it's all found in the feet. And even through all that, between both the hardship and the beauty, we never really seem to notice them. They serve their purpose and nothing more. Yet sometimes we have those brief moments, those spaces of time when we just look down and realize the sheer complexity and grace of these appendages.
So I'm not really sure why. But today was one of those days when I looked down at my feet, and I just realized the role they play in everyday life. That, and at the same time, I noticed just how much they're worth, just how sensitive and fragile, delicate and fascinating they can be. This is by far one of the stranger posts I've ever written, but at the same time, this brief epiphany interested me sufficiently. I guess that's what this is in the end.
Monday, May 24, 2010
So Sad
"Why do you look so sad?"
And the first thought in my head was,
Have I really gotten that bad at lying?
Not really.
I think I just stopped trying with you.
Although I rather doubt it would ever make any sense.
And the first thought in my head was,
Have I really gotten that bad at lying?
Not really.
I think I just stopped trying with you.
Although I rather doubt it would ever make any sense.
Pieces
I am broken. I am in pieces. There is nothing left of me that once was. I've lost all courage, confidence, hope, self-respect, self-worth, reason, understanding, desire, everything and anything that I once had. It's all gone. It means nothing. Because too much has happened for me to have not ended up here as I am right now.
I've gotten used to being used, abused, tossed around, and abandoned. Which is the only reason that I still let people do it to me. People say that I deserve better. And not only do I no longer believe them, but I also don't honestly think that I do. I haven't been anything other than an object to anyone in a while, I haven't believed any compliment anyone has given me in longer than I care to keep track of.
I don't believe it anymore. I've been hurt too many times. Everything half-decent has become too good to be true for me. And here I am, getting hurt again. Oh god knows I'm getting hurt. Because right now, I'm hanging off a cliff, looking around me pretending that the chasm below my feet isn't there, pretending that I'm not going to hit the ground and shatter again.
But I can only pretend for so long. I can only keep lying to myself for a short period of time. And that period is rapidly coming to an end. I feel myself losing my grip on reality, know that in a short space of time, I'm going to let go and crash.
I can't stop that crash anymore. I can't not let it happen. It's absolutely impossible. I'm going to fall, I'm going to break, I'm going to lose it all. I knowingly got here, and I have no choice as far as how this is all going to end. I know how it will end. It will end in pain and agony, it will end in torturous hell, no matter what event leads to that...it's a given, it's set in stone, there is absolutely no changing it.
I know how I got here. I knew what I was getting myself into in the first place. That doesn't make it any prettier, though. That doesn't make the pain go away or the issues resolve themselves. What's maybe worse is that either way I'd be hurt. Either way, I'd be broken, shattered, crushed. For one reason or another, I'd be in pain either way, and I knew that and still do.
So I'll take it and deal. Fine. I said I knew what I was getting into, so now I get to deal with the consequences of it all. It doesn't make it any less of a mess, it doesn't mean that I think any more highly of myself; it merely means that I'm going to suck it up and not be a burden on everyone around me because of the problems I got myself into. The end.
I've gotten used to being used, abused, tossed around, and abandoned. Which is the only reason that I still let people do it to me. People say that I deserve better. And not only do I no longer believe them, but I also don't honestly think that I do. I haven't been anything other than an object to anyone in a while, I haven't believed any compliment anyone has given me in longer than I care to keep track of.
I don't believe it anymore. I've been hurt too many times. Everything half-decent has become too good to be true for me. And here I am, getting hurt again. Oh god knows I'm getting hurt. Because right now, I'm hanging off a cliff, looking around me pretending that the chasm below my feet isn't there, pretending that I'm not going to hit the ground and shatter again.
But I can only pretend for so long. I can only keep lying to myself for a short period of time. And that period is rapidly coming to an end. I feel myself losing my grip on reality, know that in a short space of time, I'm going to let go and crash.
I can't stop that crash anymore. I can't not let it happen. It's absolutely impossible. I'm going to fall, I'm going to break, I'm going to lose it all. I knowingly got here, and I have no choice as far as how this is all going to end. I know how it will end. It will end in pain and agony, it will end in torturous hell, no matter what event leads to that...it's a given, it's set in stone, there is absolutely no changing it.
I know how I got here. I knew what I was getting myself into in the first place. That doesn't make it any prettier, though. That doesn't make the pain go away or the issues resolve themselves. What's maybe worse is that either way I'd be hurt. Either way, I'd be broken, shattered, crushed. For one reason or another, I'd be in pain either way, and I knew that and still do.
So I'll take it and deal. Fine. I said I knew what I was getting into, so now I get to deal with the consequences of it all. It doesn't make it any less of a mess, it doesn't mean that I think any more highly of myself; it merely means that I'm going to suck it up and not be a burden on everyone around me because of the problems I got myself into. The end.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Weekend
Well, I would absolutely love to write plenty tonight. I think I've had enough comedy to write a fair number of quotes, as well, but I don't exactly have the time to write any of it. As lovely as this evening/day/weekend/week has been, it has also cost me this thing called "giving a damn" and not done much of anything.
So I effectively spent these past several days lounging in the sun, wasting time, laughing about nothing and everything, and, well, doing anything but work. Here I am now, at the end of the weekend, realizing that it would have been better for me to have actually gotten a bit of work done during this weekend.
But oh well. Whatever it would or wouldn't have been beneficial for me to have done, it wouldn't have been half as fun as this weekend was. I have no fewer ups and downs than I did before, it doesn't make any more sense than it ever did (actually, it makes even less). That's okay though. I can actually say that I'm happy on occasion, for once. I can smile honestly. I think that was worth far more than whatever productive time I may have lost.
So I effectively spent these past several days lounging in the sun, wasting time, laughing about nothing and everything, and, well, doing anything but work. Here I am now, at the end of the weekend, realizing that it would have been better for me to have actually gotten a bit of work done during this weekend.
But oh well. Whatever it would or wouldn't have been beneficial for me to have done, it wouldn't have been half as fun as this weekend was. I have no fewer ups and downs than I did before, it doesn't make any more sense than it ever did (actually, it makes even less). That's okay though. I can actually say that I'm happy on occasion, for once. I can smile honestly. I think that was worth far more than whatever productive time I may have lost.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Sheer Brilliance
Judge me all you want. I'm happy now. That's all that matters.
That just hit me today. I was sitting here, thinking about life--past, present, future, all that, and it just struck me upside the head in a way. Suddenly it made sense. All of the nonsense, the random words thrown around again and again...none of that matters to me. And it's not even a fact of "nothing matters" right now so much as the fact that it just doesn't affect me. At all.
All of the judgment passed, the lectures given, the rebukes endowed...I don't care. They may be what they will, people may think whatever they want, but I'm not going to let that bother me, or affect me, or change the way I do things. For the first time in a long time, I'm deliberately blocking people's opinions out, not letting them tell me how to live my life, if only in one respect.
And right now, I'm happy. I'm happy with that fact, happy with the way things are right now, happy with who I am at the moment. Yes, I am actually happy for once. And I like that. So just a warning to those passing judgment and being critical of the facts: don't mess with it. So there.
That just hit me today. I was sitting here, thinking about life--past, present, future, all that, and it just struck me upside the head in a way. Suddenly it made sense. All of the nonsense, the random words thrown around again and again...none of that matters to me. And it's not even a fact of "nothing matters" right now so much as the fact that it just doesn't affect me. At all.
All of the judgment passed, the lectures given, the rebukes endowed...I don't care. They may be what they will, people may think whatever they want, but I'm not going to let that bother me, or affect me, or change the way I do things. For the first time in a long time, I'm deliberately blocking people's opinions out, not letting them tell me how to live my life, if only in one respect.
And right now, I'm happy. I'm happy with that fact, happy with the way things are right now, happy with who I am at the moment. Yes, I am actually happy for once. And I like that. So just a warning to those passing judgment and being critical of the facts: don't mess with it. So there.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Bittersweet
Chocolate.
Goodbyes.
Memories.
We don't remember any of them because they were the most amazing thing to ever happen, nor because they made us cringe most miserably in pain. We remember them because they made us feel. Something was real, true, honest.
It wasn't perfect, it wasn't the most extraordinary moment in a life, it wasn't a defining point. But it was memorable. It was one of those things that's so incredible if only because it is so believable, so beautiful because it is so distinctly perceived.
Nothing seems to ever have more power than this mingling of two extremes, this intersection of distinctly separate and nearly opposite emotions. The bittersweet is not merely the middle ground between the ecstatic and the depressed, it is a sensation all its own, unique in its composition and form.
That contrast, that difference, that twisting and turning of everything in life, that's what makes it memorable. The power of the bittersweet can never escape us, it can never leave us. It gives us nights we can never forget, moments we can never relive, emotions we can never aspire to understand.
That's what makes some moments precisely as they are.
Powerful.
Meaningful.
Beautiful.
Goodbyes.
Memories.
We don't remember any of them because they were the most amazing thing to ever happen, nor because they made us cringe most miserably in pain. We remember them because they made us feel. Something was real, true, honest.
It wasn't perfect, it wasn't the most extraordinary moment in a life, it wasn't a defining point. But it was memorable. It was one of those things that's so incredible if only because it is so believable, so beautiful because it is so distinctly perceived.
Nothing seems to ever have more power than this mingling of two extremes, this intersection of distinctly separate and nearly opposite emotions. The bittersweet is not merely the middle ground between the ecstatic and the depressed, it is a sensation all its own, unique in its composition and form.
That contrast, that difference, that twisting and turning of everything in life, that's what makes it memorable. The power of the bittersweet can never escape us, it can never leave us. It gives us nights we can never forget, moments we can never relive, emotions we can never aspire to understand.
That's what makes some moments precisely as they are.
Powerful.
Meaningful.
Beautiful.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Contentedness
Contentedness is a good state of being. It really is. Sometimes we just need something that makes us smile. It's those moments...or hours, that just make it all okay. It's being able to forget the world around you if only for a little bit, to let go of time, to just sit back and let life go, see what happens, fall into happiness.
It doesn't happen nearly often enough, but it's because of that that it's so nice, that each and every times contentedness sets in, it's something worth noting. Perhaps there's not much to be said of it, really. It's just a certain sense of everything working for a time, no matter how brief. It's smiling for seemingly no reason, not caring about the rest of the world, just letting it all go by and being happy about the fact that sometimes we have no control over any of it.
Maybe it doesn't mean anything, not in the long run, not right now. Maybe it doesn't matter. But in that case, why not make the most of it? There is, ultimately, no harm done in enjoying simple pleasures, in laughing and smiling at whatever may come to pass. It may not end well, it may not be the most rational decision ever.
But that's just too damn bad. Some things in life are too good to miss out on because of what may or may not happen in the future and what may or may not have happened in the past. The world isn't going to fall apart because of one rash, spontaneous decision...especially when that decision can lead to any form of happiness.
It doesn't happen nearly often enough, but it's because of that that it's so nice, that each and every times contentedness sets in, it's something worth noting. Perhaps there's not much to be said of it, really. It's just a certain sense of everything working for a time, no matter how brief. It's smiling for seemingly no reason, not caring about the rest of the world, just letting it all go by and being happy about the fact that sometimes we have no control over any of it.
Maybe it doesn't mean anything, not in the long run, not right now. Maybe it doesn't matter. But in that case, why not make the most of it? There is, ultimately, no harm done in enjoying simple pleasures, in laughing and smiling at whatever may come to pass. It may not end well, it may not be the most rational decision ever.
But that's just too damn bad. Some things in life are too good to miss out on because of what may or may not happen in the future and what may or may not have happened in the past. The world isn't going to fall apart because of one rash, spontaneous decision...especially when that decision can lead to any form of happiness.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Anything
I can't do anything right anymore. Every single thing I do or try to do, I somehow manage to completely mess up. Everything that's supposed to work fails as soon as I approach it, everything that was already complicated gets that much worse. There is quite literally nothing at this point that I can do right.
I'm a failure. I admit it. As many years as that's been drilled into my head and never hit home, well now it has. Congratulations. You win. Here I am stuck in my failure because I can't do anything right, because I mess up absolutely everything, because I'm not capable of doing anything reasonable anymore.
I give up. It's not even worth the effort to try at this point. All I can do is stand back and watch everything crash and burn. I'm not going to be able to make it work anyway, so I'm not going to make the attempt. Call it pathetic, call it selfish; fine, you're right. And I just don't give a damn. Because here I am at the end of it all, drowning in my own failure.
I'm a failure. I admit it. As many years as that's been drilled into my head and never hit home, well now it has. Congratulations. You win. Here I am stuck in my failure because I can't do anything right, because I mess up absolutely everything, because I'm not capable of doing anything reasonable anymore.
I give up. It's not even worth the effort to try at this point. All I can do is stand back and watch everything crash and burn. I'm not going to be able to make it work anyway, so I'm not going to make the attempt. Call it pathetic, call it selfish; fine, you're right. And I just don't give a damn. Because here I am at the end of it all, drowning in my own failure.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Blank Stares
A wall of faces. Row after row of eyes. People going by again and again and again. No emotions. No breaths. No signs of recognition. Nothing. Just faces. Every last one of them staring, judging, yet saying nothing. Each face belongs to a different person, yet in the end they are all completely the same.
Featureless, insignificant masses passing by with eyes glued to yours. Nothing more, nothing less. Just faces. Just people going about their lives. Just another reminder.
It means nothing, really. I promise.
Words to live by. Shreds of lies woven together with threads of truth. Rising and falling, rising and falling. Another cycle. Another day. Time passing.
In the end, it's all the same. It can't go on forever. It has to end sometime. Good or bad, that is the way it is. Memories peeling away, emotions being stripped bare, reason crumbling into nothingness. Too late and too early all at the same time. That doesn't change anything.
The faces move steadily onward. The eyes still stare. And there is no end in sight.
Featureless, insignificant masses passing by with eyes glued to yours. Nothing more, nothing less. Just faces. Just people going about their lives. Just another reminder.
It means nothing, really. I promise.
Words to live by. Shreds of lies woven together with threads of truth. Rising and falling, rising and falling. Another cycle. Another day. Time passing.
In the end, it's all the same. It can't go on forever. It has to end sometime. Good or bad, that is the way it is. Memories peeling away, emotions being stripped bare, reason crumbling into nothingness. Too late and too early all at the same time. That doesn't change anything.
The faces move steadily onward. The eyes still stare. And there is no end in sight.
Monday, May 17, 2010
High
Well, here follows the story of my past 24 hours or so. The last time before 7:00 am this morning when I ate anything was 1:00 pm yesterday. I spent six hours yesterday...well, not getting work done, pretty much is the only way to adequately write this. I was legitimately in bed between the hours of 2:00 am and 5:00 am, although I'm fairly certain I got no more than 30 minutes of sleep, if that, in that entire time.
So this morning, between 5:00 and 6:00 am, I was ridiculously productive. And then at 6:00, I went out for a run. It was the sort of thing I needed, it was the run where you run until you can't run anymore, and then you run some more because it hurts, because you need to feel the burning in your legs and your throat and your lungs so that the buzzing in your head calms down.
And at 6:20, it began to rain. It wasn't pouring, it wasn't perfect, but it was gorgeous. It was what I needed. The high point of this day for me came at 6:30 am, standing on the hill, recovering from a run, still panting, listening to 37 mm by AFI, in the rain, looking around me like I was seeing the world for the first time.
I seem to have these incredible morning runs about once a year, and while the near all-nighter is not per se the most pleasant of experiences, and I still can't move my neck without everything hurting, it's always worth it. No matter what. The breaths I took at the top of that hill were more sustaining than eight solid hours of sleep could possibly have been.
Maybe I'm going to crash in an hour, or in five, when crashing would be really bad, or at the end of the day. But that's okay. All that matters (hah, the irony of my using that phrase is impressive) right now is that I'm high on life, high on my run, high on sleep-deprivation. And that's good enough for me.
So this morning, between 5:00 and 6:00 am, I was ridiculously productive. And then at 6:00, I went out for a run. It was the sort of thing I needed, it was the run where you run until you can't run anymore, and then you run some more because it hurts, because you need to feel the burning in your legs and your throat and your lungs so that the buzzing in your head calms down.
And at 6:20, it began to rain. It wasn't pouring, it wasn't perfect, but it was gorgeous. It was what I needed. The high point of this day for me came at 6:30 am, standing on the hill, recovering from a run, still panting, listening to 37 mm by AFI, in the rain, looking around me like I was seeing the world for the first time.
I seem to have these incredible morning runs about once a year, and while the near all-nighter is not per se the most pleasant of experiences, and I still can't move my neck without everything hurting, it's always worth it. No matter what. The breaths I took at the top of that hill were more sustaining than eight solid hours of sleep could possibly have been.
Maybe I'm going to crash in an hour, or in five, when crashing would be really bad, or at the end of the day. But that's okay. All that matters (hah, the irony of my using that phrase is impressive) right now is that I'm high on life, high on my run, high on sleep-deprivation. And that's good enough for me.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Um...
Alright, well...this is rather complicated. And I'm entirely uncertain as to what the hell I should even write right now. There's rather a lot going through my head right now, and I'm not sure as to how I could even adequately express that. I'm also not likely to get to sleep anytime soon because I'm still not thinking straight and I'm fairly certain there's something important I have to do tomorrow.
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen it coming. But, well, that doesn't make the reality any less of a mess to deal with. And I probably shouldn't actually be writing anything. Regardless, the thought process here is quite interesting, and I'm fairly certain my mind isn't exactly clear enough to make anything make sense, either.
That and also the fact that I do still have to write something today--those are the only two real reasons I'm writing right now...if those even count as reasons. And if they don't, I don't care. I have a lot to sort out right now, and a couple of paragraphs are far from my biggest concern at the moment. That said, I think this is quite enough for one night...
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen it coming. But, well, that doesn't make the reality any less of a mess to deal with. And I probably shouldn't actually be writing anything. Regardless, the thought process here is quite interesting, and I'm fairly certain my mind isn't exactly clear enough to make anything make sense, either.
That and also the fact that I do still have to write something today--those are the only two real reasons I'm writing right now...if those even count as reasons. And if they don't, I don't care. I have a lot to sort out right now, and a couple of paragraphs are far from my biggest concern at the moment. That said, I think this is quite enough for one night...
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Fun
A year ago today, one year ago exactly, everything changed. It was strange, if only in that it didn't affect me half so much then as it really does now. It's one of those things that happens and only catches up to you after a while, in part because it is so unexpected, in part because it is so complex that it can't be comprehended in so little time.
And because of what happened one year ago today, I had been dreading this date for months now. I had been anticipating spending it alone, crying in a corner, trying to come to terms with everything that has happened in the past year. Needless to say, as can be guessed from the title of this post, this was not the case.
I had fun today. I let myself have fun with people, play games with them, laugh and smile and joke along with them. And I think that's what I really needed to do. I can't keep dwelling on what happened a year ago, I can't let it define who I am now. All I can do is accept it and deal with it, just move on with the rest of my life from here on out.
That's pretty much what I anticipate doing, too. I'm not going to let my past interfere with my future. Someone, I forget who, once said, "scars remind us what we've been through...they don't have to dictate where we're going." And that's definitely true. That's what I'm learning to live by right now. And I'm doing it by having fun.
And because of what happened one year ago today, I had been dreading this date for months now. I had been anticipating spending it alone, crying in a corner, trying to come to terms with everything that has happened in the past year. Needless to say, as can be guessed from the title of this post, this was not the case.
I had fun today. I let myself have fun with people, play games with them, laugh and smile and joke along with them. And I think that's what I really needed to do. I can't keep dwelling on what happened a year ago, I can't let it define who I am now. All I can do is accept it and deal with it, just move on with the rest of my life from here on out.
That's pretty much what I anticipate doing, too. I'm not going to let my past interfere with my future. Someone, I forget who, once said, "scars remind us what we've been through...they don't have to dictate where we're going." And that's definitely true. That's what I'm learning to live by right now. And I'm doing it by having fun.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Power
What is power?
Some say power is control. Others say power is courage. And still others say power is nothing more than an illusion. Which is right? Perhaps all of these, perhaps none. Definitions are trivial details, and in the grand scheme of things, they all amount to nothing.
So maybe power isn't really anything, but that doesn't stop me from finding it. Finding power is coming back from a second run, having done it at a faster pace than you have in maybe so much as years, and feeling on top of the world. It's knowing that everything isn't perfect, that life is nothing more than chaos, that strength is nothing more than momentary detail...and being able to smile.
Power. It's that sense of knowing with absolute certainty that for absolutely no reason at all everything is going to work out. It is confidence, it is strength, it is courage. It is everything and nothing all at once. Power has to it a certain beauty that nothing else in life can really attain. Ultimately, it doesn't mean anything. But that is precisely what makes it mean so much more in every single moment where it exists.
I found power tonight. For the first time in a long time, everything was okay. It didn't need to be perfect, it didn't need to make sense. It just had to be me, living life, breathing the air around me, heart pounding in my chest, the muscles of my legs filling with lactic acid at a rate with which gluconeogenesis couldn't quite keep up.
Some call it a runner's high. I call it power. To each his own. Whatever you may call it, whatever it may be, I found it tonight. I finally lived again.
Some say power is control. Others say power is courage. And still others say power is nothing more than an illusion. Which is right? Perhaps all of these, perhaps none. Definitions are trivial details, and in the grand scheme of things, they all amount to nothing.
So maybe power isn't really anything, but that doesn't stop me from finding it. Finding power is coming back from a second run, having done it at a faster pace than you have in maybe so much as years, and feeling on top of the world. It's knowing that everything isn't perfect, that life is nothing more than chaos, that strength is nothing more than momentary detail...and being able to smile.
Power. It's that sense of knowing with absolute certainty that for absolutely no reason at all everything is going to work out. It is confidence, it is strength, it is courage. It is everything and nothing all at once. Power has to it a certain beauty that nothing else in life can really attain. Ultimately, it doesn't mean anything. But that is precisely what makes it mean so much more in every single moment where it exists.
I found power tonight. For the first time in a long time, everything was okay. It didn't need to be perfect, it didn't need to make sense. It just had to be me, living life, breathing the air around me, heart pounding in my chest, the muscles of my legs filling with lactic acid at a rate with which gluconeogenesis couldn't quite keep up.
Some call it a runner's high. I call it power. To each his own. Whatever you may call it, whatever it may be, I found it tonight. I finally lived again.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Habit
It doesn't work anymore. I can't do it like this. I don't want to have to say it, I don't want to realize it, I don't want it to hurt as much as it does. But the fact of the matter is, it's fallen apart. And the worst part is, I think it's my fault. I feel terrible for it, I wish it was different. But it isn't. At this point, I don't think I can change it back anymore, either. I'm left standing here, hoping that I didn't mess it up too badly.
I know I did though. I didn't mean to, I didn't try to, and I sure as hell didn't want to. It's the last thing I wanted to do--mess it up. In the end though, that's exactly what I did. I'm bad at this, bad at hiding the truth to such matters, bad at pretending that I don't care. I try to not let on how much things affect me, how emotional I am, but in the end, I can't hide it. I can't hide my weaknesses and my flaws.
And it's those very same weaknesses, those bitter emotions that have gone and ruined yet another good thing for me. It's not the same as it was. It will never be the same. It's fallen apart, and I have broken. Here I am, watching the world crumble around me, looking at the shards of friendship scattered beneath my feet.
I realize now that it's not really a friendship anymore so much as a habit. It's too complicated to just be a friendship at this point. Too much has happened, too much has come in the way. And I'm too emotional to just let it go, to deal with the inevitable, to avoid being hurt by things that no longer hold true. I'm trying to let myself move forward from what once was. I'm working to get past the foolishness.
But too much has happened, and we know it. We know it altogether way too damn well. I don't want to have realized it, I don't want to think about it, I want to accept it and move on. But I can't. For some godforsaken reason, I'm completely incapable of leaving things in the past and letting emotions lie.
There's nothing I can say to fix it. There's too much between us for this to work as a friendship anymore. And I'm still trying, and I'm going to continue trying...because it means too much to me to just let it go. I'm too lost in hope and faded dreams to just abandon everything. I care. I care more than I should. I care too much. I sure as hell wish I didn't. But it is what it is. So help me god.
I know I did though. I didn't mean to, I didn't try to, and I sure as hell didn't want to. It's the last thing I wanted to do--mess it up. In the end though, that's exactly what I did. I'm bad at this, bad at hiding the truth to such matters, bad at pretending that I don't care. I try to not let on how much things affect me, how emotional I am, but in the end, I can't hide it. I can't hide my weaknesses and my flaws.
And it's those very same weaknesses, those bitter emotions that have gone and ruined yet another good thing for me. It's not the same as it was. It will never be the same. It's fallen apart, and I have broken. Here I am, watching the world crumble around me, looking at the shards of friendship scattered beneath my feet.
I realize now that it's not really a friendship anymore so much as a habit. It's too complicated to just be a friendship at this point. Too much has happened, too much has come in the way. And I'm too emotional to just let it go, to deal with the inevitable, to avoid being hurt by things that no longer hold true. I'm trying to let myself move forward from what once was. I'm working to get past the foolishness.
But too much has happened, and we know it. We know it altogether way too damn well. I don't want to have realized it, I don't want to think about it, I want to accept it and move on. But I can't. For some godforsaken reason, I'm completely incapable of leaving things in the past and letting emotions lie.
There's nothing I can say to fix it. There's too much between us for this to work as a friendship anymore. And I'm still trying, and I'm going to continue trying...because it means too much to me to just let it go. I'm too lost in hope and faded dreams to just abandon everything. I care. I care more than I should. I care too much. I sure as hell wish I didn't. But it is what it is. So help me god.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Out
"I want out."
What do you say to that? What can you say to something like that? There's really nothing. There's absolutely nothing that can remedy the situation, nothing that can make it make sense. Sometimes things just happen, things that can't be stopped or changed or made sense of.
And then the only choice is to hope that something works out from it all, to hope that maybe there's something that's worth it somewhere in the mess. Often enough, that's not even there, and there's not even any sense in hoping that there may be.
But it's never a matter of thriving, it's always just a matter of holding on. The question was never one of "how well can you live?" but rather "can you survive at all?" Maybe that's where it all went wrong, trying to find more in it than there ever was, trying to make sense of nonsense, trying to follow a logic that was never there to begin with.
Because walking out of that mindset, walking away from those thoughts, is no better than letting it all collapse. In the end, everything is broken. In the end, nothing can be avenged. In the end, the only real way to go is out. Is there really anything wrong with wanting that?
What do you say to that? What can you say to something like that? There's really nothing. There's absolutely nothing that can remedy the situation, nothing that can make it make sense. Sometimes things just happen, things that can't be stopped or changed or made sense of.
And then the only choice is to hope that something works out from it all, to hope that maybe there's something that's worth it somewhere in the mess. Often enough, that's not even there, and there's not even any sense in hoping that there may be.
But it's never a matter of thriving, it's always just a matter of holding on. The question was never one of "how well can you live?" but rather "can you survive at all?" Maybe that's where it all went wrong, trying to find more in it than there ever was, trying to make sense of nonsense, trying to follow a logic that was never there to begin with.
Because walking out of that mindset, walking away from those thoughts, is no better than letting it all collapse. In the end, everything is broken. In the end, nothing can be avenged. In the end, the only real way to go is out. Is there really anything wrong with wanting that?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
If...
If I started now, I know I wouldn't stop.
If I started, I would have to finish.
If I started, there would be no other choice.
Maybe that's what terrifies me most.
Knowing that I wouldn't stop.
Couldn't.
Or in the end, maybe that's what reassures me.
I don't know why I haven't yet.
Part of me really wishes I had.
But something's stopped me to this point.
How much longer it will act, I do not know.
It's probably better that I don't.
If I started, I would have to finish.
If I started, there would be no other choice.
Maybe that's what terrifies me most.
Knowing that I wouldn't stop.
Couldn't.
Or in the end, maybe that's what reassures me.
I don't know why I haven't yet.
Part of me really wishes I had.
But something's stopped me to this point.
How much longer it will act, I do not know.
It's probably better that I don't.
Hard Work
One of those best things with hard work is that it makes the rest of the world go away. And while normally, hard work isn't the best thing in the world because it is--after all--hard, it can on occasions like these be exactly what was needed.
As for how I reached this realization today...I'm not really sure. But it just suddenly hit me like that. I had been working for practically three hours straight, completely focused on what I was doing, absolutely oblivious of the rest of the world. I didn't even realize that my thought process was any different from the ordinary.
Yet as soon as I looked up when I was done, the entire world came rushing back at me. And I mean quite literally rushing at me. The instant I looked up and looked around me, it was as though a flood of emotions, memories, thoughts, and just about everything, came rushing at me.
I had no idea that I had set aside so much of my thought process, so much of everything that seems to predominate my conscious reasoning in order to work. Nor could I have imagined the force with which it all came back. And it was strange. But so much more, then, I can appreciate the value of hard work. If only as a way to forget the world for a bit.
As for how I reached this realization today...I'm not really sure. But it just suddenly hit me like that. I had been working for practically three hours straight, completely focused on what I was doing, absolutely oblivious of the rest of the world. I didn't even realize that my thought process was any different from the ordinary.
Yet as soon as I looked up when I was done, the entire world came rushing back at me. And I mean quite literally rushing at me. The instant I looked up and looked around me, it was as though a flood of emotions, memories, thoughts, and just about everything, came rushing at me.
I had no idea that I had set aside so much of my thought process, so much of everything that seems to predominate my conscious reasoning in order to work. Nor could I have imagined the force with which it all came back. And it was strange. But so much more, then, I can appreciate the value of hard work. If only as a way to forget the world for a bit.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Worse
What hurts the most probably...is caring.
It hurts to care so much, to be so attached to something and so involved with it that it has a personal effect. It's really one of the worst feelings in the world maybe, caring is. And it shouldn't be. Caring is...one of those things that's supposed to give you a warm, fuzzy feeling. Or some such nonsense.
But in the end, it really doesn't. It just leads to anxiety, nerves, stress, overarching emotions, and general confusion. And this is one of those times when I wish I could just stop caring, just make it all go away. I want to forget. I don't want to care. I don't want anything to affect me this much, I don't want it to be able to tear me to shreds like this.
Yet that's exactly what's happening right now. The caring, the emotions, the attachment...it's all dragging me down into yet another pit of personal hell. I desperately want it to stop, but I'm afraid to cut off the ties. Nor do I want to, frankly. But I just want the hell to go away. I want the searing headaches and the agony to leave me be and let me go my peaceful way.
It's not happening. Caring, the seemingly gentle creature that caresses the soul, will not let me out of its cruel grasp. It is not heartless, merely bitter, bitter enough to send me into agony and dread. I don't know how much longer I can keep caring. I have no idea how well I'm going to be able to deal with this anymore.
But the thing is that I still care. And I'm not going to let myself stop caring merely because it hurts so much. I'm just hoping I can sustain myself long enough to not completely fall apart...for all the sense that does or doesn't make.
It hurts to care so much, to be so attached to something and so involved with it that it has a personal effect. It's really one of the worst feelings in the world maybe, caring is. And it shouldn't be. Caring is...one of those things that's supposed to give you a warm, fuzzy feeling. Or some such nonsense.
But in the end, it really doesn't. It just leads to anxiety, nerves, stress, overarching emotions, and general confusion. And this is one of those times when I wish I could just stop caring, just make it all go away. I want to forget. I don't want to care. I don't want anything to affect me this much, I don't want it to be able to tear me to shreds like this.
Yet that's exactly what's happening right now. The caring, the emotions, the attachment...it's all dragging me down into yet another pit of personal hell. I desperately want it to stop, but I'm afraid to cut off the ties. Nor do I want to, frankly. But I just want the hell to go away. I want the searing headaches and the agony to leave me be and let me go my peaceful way.
It's not happening. Caring, the seemingly gentle creature that caresses the soul, will not let me out of its cruel grasp. It is not heartless, merely bitter, bitter enough to send me into agony and dread. I don't know how much longer I can keep caring. I have no idea how well I'm going to be able to deal with this anymore.
But the thing is that I still care. And I'm not going to let myself stop caring merely because it hurts so much. I'm just hoping I can sustain myself long enough to not completely fall apart...for all the sense that does or doesn't make.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I Don't Know
Suddenly, it just hit me.
I have no idea what's going on. I don't know where I'm going in life. I don't know what I'm doing here, right now or in general. I haven't got the faintest clue of what this is all straining toward or why I'm still bothering. I literally just don't know.
I don't know why I'm trying to do the things I am. I have no real idea of what any of my goals or targets are. I'm absolutely lost as far as having any desires or aspirations at this point. Right now, I'm just trying to get by, to survive. I'm not making any progress or encountering any success. I'm literally just floundering in this ocean of life, trying my best to stay afloat.
Maybe when it hits this point where all the effort in the world only barely keeps you alive and doesn't let you survive, maybe then it's time to find a different way of doing things. But how? How am I supposed to start going somewhere when I have no idea how to get there, where I'm going, or even where I could possibly want to go.
I don't want to be here for the rest of my life.
In every sense of those words.
And that's all I know.
So what happens next? Where do I go from here?
I have absolutely no idea...
I have no idea what's going on. I don't know where I'm going in life. I don't know what I'm doing here, right now or in general. I haven't got the faintest clue of what this is all straining toward or why I'm still bothering. I literally just don't know.
I don't know why I'm trying to do the things I am. I have no real idea of what any of my goals or targets are. I'm absolutely lost as far as having any desires or aspirations at this point. Right now, I'm just trying to get by, to survive. I'm not making any progress or encountering any success. I'm literally just floundering in this ocean of life, trying my best to stay afloat.
Maybe when it hits this point where all the effort in the world only barely keeps you alive and doesn't let you survive, maybe then it's time to find a different way of doing things. But how? How am I supposed to start going somewhere when I have no idea how to get there, where I'm going, or even where I could possibly want to go.
I don't want to be here for the rest of my life.
In every sense of those words.
And that's all I know.
So what happens next? Where do I go from here?
I have absolutely no idea...
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Not Quite
Yes, I do. Believe it or not, I truly do. I may not admit it most of the time, and I would never yell it out, but when it comes down to it, I do. And I'm not afraid or ashamed of that.
I may not do it the way most others do. I don't flaunt it. I lower my eyes when it is brought up in conversation. If asked directly, I'll usually even tiptoe around it and make it appear as though I denied it entirely.
Where I could tell stories of it to all my friends, I rather whisper it in confidence to a select few. Where I could write of it in plain and simple terms, I rather explain it in metaphors and raise questions of what I speak of to begin with.
I do it quietly. I do it gently. I don't presume. I don't impose.
I don't know why I do. I don't know how it started or precisely what triggered it, nor do I understand why it still holds true today. But it's okay. Somehow, I'm fine with the fact that it doesn't all make sense. In some strange way, I can accept that it's not perfect, nor does it conform to any reasonable pattern.
What matters most right now is that it works. The pieces fit. They don't fit the way they were designed to, I don't think, and they don't give what I expected them to. In the end though, that's part of life.
And that's why I still do what I do. I do it because right now, it's right for me. How long it will remain that way, I couldn't say. But what matters is that in this given moment, it's right for me to do what I am. I know that and it works for me.
As for what it is that I do...that's for me to know and you to ponder.
Believe me, I'm not about to say.
I may not do it the way most others do. I don't flaunt it. I lower my eyes when it is brought up in conversation. If asked directly, I'll usually even tiptoe around it and make it appear as though I denied it entirely.
Where I could tell stories of it to all my friends, I rather whisper it in confidence to a select few. Where I could write of it in plain and simple terms, I rather explain it in metaphors and raise questions of what I speak of to begin with.
I do it quietly. I do it gently. I don't presume. I don't impose.
I don't know why I do. I don't know how it started or precisely what triggered it, nor do I understand why it still holds true today. But it's okay. Somehow, I'm fine with the fact that it doesn't all make sense. In some strange way, I can accept that it's not perfect, nor does it conform to any reasonable pattern.
What matters most right now is that it works. The pieces fit. They don't fit the way they were designed to, I don't think, and they don't give what I expected them to. In the end though, that's part of life.
And that's why I still do what I do. I do it because right now, it's right for me. How long it will remain that way, I couldn't say. But what matters is that in this given moment, it's right for me to do what I am. I know that and it works for me.
As for what it is that I do...that's for me to know and you to ponder.
Believe me, I'm not about to say.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Reasons
I don't know. I don't know why I do one thing and why I don't do another. I have no idea why I say the words I do or make the decisions I do most of the time. I just do it. There may be no rational thought process behind it, there may be absolutely no reason for me to do or not do any of it. That doesn't stop me from doing or not doing any of it, though.
I don't know what my reasons for any of it are. I have no idea why I say yes to one thing and no to another. I can't begin to fathom why I feel as I do about certain matters, or why I care about one thing and not another. All I know is that for some reason, and most often it's one I'm not aware of, I make the decisions I do.
I guess it's one of those things that maybe you could call instinct. Or maybe it's some form of self-preservation. Although considering some of the things I do, that doesn't really make any sense. But that might actually be the result of my abandoning this notion of and desire for self-preservation.
A while ago now, I hit a certain point in my life where I realized that none of it really meant anything. That's slowly led me to a largely existentialist approach to life where I take what I have and try to really make the most of it, realizing that it has no overarching consequences on the rest of the world after my death.
Why, considering that mindset, I still care about some of the things I do, I really have no idea. It's irrational. Then again, what about this concept of life isn't? All of it is rather absurd and nonsensical. It doesn't mean anything, yet the natural human tendency is to endeavor to find some form of meaning in this existence we lead.
And that's a large part of what leads to this confusion concerning reasons and motivations. Because when everything else about life makes absolutely no sense, how can we expect any of our reasoning or our actions to do so? What does it really even mean to make sense? Is it a question of rationality? Well what defines rationality then? How can we really know what does or doesn't make sense, what does or doesn't work?
In the end, we can't. Not all of our actions can be justified by rational thought processes, or explained through simple rationalizations. Human thought is not that simple, nor can it be entirely considered to be rational, logical, or the least bit efficient. It doesn't get us what we want, nor does it make any sense.
And sometimes, sometimes we just have to suck it up and deal, get used to things not working, and let it all go despite the fact that we really don't have any chance of making anything work.
I don't know what my reasons for any of it are. I have no idea why I say yes to one thing and no to another. I can't begin to fathom why I feel as I do about certain matters, or why I care about one thing and not another. All I know is that for some reason, and most often it's one I'm not aware of, I make the decisions I do.
I guess it's one of those things that maybe you could call instinct. Or maybe it's some form of self-preservation. Although considering some of the things I do, that doesn't really make any sense. But that might actually be the result of my abandoning this notion of and desire for self-preservation.
A while ago now, I hit a certain point in my life where I realized that none of it really meant anything. That's slowly led me to a largely existentialist approach to life where I take what I have and try to really make the most of it, realizing that it has no overarching consequences on the rest of the world after my death.
Why, considering that mindset, I still care about some of the things I do, I really have no idea. It's irrational. Then again, what about this concept of life isn't? All of it is rather absurd and nonsensical. It doesn't mean anything, yet the natural human tendency is to endeavor to find some form of meaning in this existence we lead.
And that's a large part of what leads to this confusion concerning reasons and motivations. Because when everything else about life makes absolutely no sense, how can we expect any of our reasoning or our actions to do so? What does it really even mean to make sense? Is it a question of rationality? Well what defines rationality then? How can we really know what does or doesn't make sense, what does or doesn't work?
In the end, we can't. Not all of our actions can be justified by rational thought processes, or explained through simple rationalizations. Human thought is not that simple, nor can it be entirely considered to be rational, logical, or the least bit efficient. It doesn't get us what we want, nor does it make any sense.
And sometimes, sometimes we just have to suck it up and deal, get used to things not working, and let it all go despite the fact that we really don't have any chance of making anything work.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Always
Something changed.
Doesn't it always?
Yes, it really does. Whether we want it to or not, whether it's for the better or for the worse, it changes. Everything changes. Nothing ever really stays the same. Maybe we want it to, maybe we don't. But I guess one of the few things that ever really stays constant is the fact that nothing ever really does.
That's one of those facts of life. It's almost like the fact that there are exceptions to everything. Everything including that point. So does something not have exceptions then? Well, there's another one of those paradoxes that sometimes just come up.
The fact of the matter is, some things happen. Maybe they just happen, maybe we cause them directly, maybe neither, maybe both. In the end, does it really matter? No. It doesn't. Ultimately, we all live and we all die, we lead out our pathetic excuses for lives to a conclusion and that's it. It's over. It doesn't matter anymore.
So why the hell does it have to matter so much now? Why is it that while we're here, we're pushing ourselves through this hell, through this misery and agony, trying to make sense of it all. Because in the end, it doesn't make sense, it doesn't work the way we read about in stories. Life is just that...life, no hidden meanings, no excuses. Just that.
Doesn't it always?
Yes, it really does. Whether we want it to or not, whether it's for the better or for the worse, it changes. Everything changes. Nothing ever really stays the same. Maybe we want it to, maybe we don't. But I guess one of the few things that ever really stays constant is the fact that nothing ever really does.
That's one of those facts of life. It's almost like the fact that there are exceptions to everything. Everything including that point. So does something not have exceptions then? Well, there's another one of those paradoxes that sometimes just come up.
The fact of the matter is, some things happen. Maybe they just happen, maybe we cause them directly, maybe neither, maybe both. In the end, does it really matter? No. It doesn't. Ultimately, we all live and we all die, we lead out our pathetic excuses for lives to a conclusion and that's it. It's over. It doesn't matter anymore.
So why the hell does it have to matter so much now? Why is it that while we're here, we're pushing ourselves through this hell, through this misery and agony, trying to make sense of it all. Because in the end, it doesn't make sense, it doesn't work the way we read about in stories. Life is just that...life, no hidden meanings, no excuses. Just that.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Unproductive
Well, today has been interesting. Yeah, I think interesting is one of those words that serves to adequately describe it. On the one hand, it's been rather entertaining. Especially about the past hour or so...yeah. People are interesting and funny and generally very useful as far as avoiding work goes.
Now that thing about work...that's starting to be a bit problematic. And I know I really should stop procrastinating and all that, but I just really haven't been in the mood to do any of it. So while the day hasn't been completely miserable or anything, it hasn't exactly been well-spent in terms of the sheer amount of work I need to do.
Speaking of that work, I should probably get back to it. So that renders this yet another post cut short and rather lacking in quality because I literally don't have the time to write anything worthwhile. Sorry for that...again. I'm really hoping that this won't go on as it has lately for the next two weeks, but that's how long I'm going to be quite busy, so unfortunately it might. My apologies again, and I'm getting back to work.
Now that thing about work...that's starting to be a bit problematic. And I know I really should stop procrastinating and all that, but I just really haven't been in the mood to do any of it. So while the day hasn't been completely miserable or anything, it hasn't exactly been well-spent in terms of the sheer amount of work I need to do.
Speaking of that work, I should probably get back to it. So that renders this yet another post cut short and rather lacking in quality because I literally don't have the time to write anything worthwhile. Sorry for that...again. I'm really hoping that this won't go on as it has lately for the next two weeks, but that's how long I'm going to be quite busy, so unfortunately it might. My apologies again, and I'm getting back to work.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Never Forget
But I promised. I promised, and I swore, and I made the dreadful oath that day. I said that I would never let it go, never let the feelings fade, never let everything fall apart. I looked through it all with tears in my eyes. I reread every single word that was ever exchanged, I tore myself to shreds each time I thought about it.
I wanted to feel. I wanted to remember what it was to care that much. I wanted to prove to myself that this was life and not some lucid dream. Dragging through the motions of every single day wasn't what made it real. What made it true, honest, understandable wasn't what it had been, but how it had been perceived.
Under every lie, behind sealed lips, through unbroken skin...maybe that's where it all lay. Maybe that's where the feeling really was. And that's what drove me to push past it, to scream the truth, to cut through the bitterness, to tear free of the world as it had been. I did everything. I tore down everything but the bare minimum to try and find what I sought.
I still didn't get there. It was worthless. There is no such thing as never. The concept of truth doesn't really exist. None of it really means anything in the end. What it all comes down to is that the clinging to something doesn't do any more than letting it go. Holding on to it doesn't make it mean any more.
But I still promised. I still whispered those words and carved the meaning into my soul. And I don't forget my promises. I told the world that I would never forget. I shed tears to seal the power of what had passed. It may not matter. It may not ultimately mean anything. It may just lead me further into hell, but that doesn't change anything.
I will never forget.
I wanted to feel. I wanted to remember what it was to care that much. I wanted to prove to myself that this was life and not some lucid dream. Dragging through the motions of every single day wasn't what made it real. What made it true, honest, understandable wasn't what it had been, but how it had been perceived.
Under every lie, behind sealed lips, through unbroken skin...maybe that's where it all lay. Maybe that's where the feeling really was. And that's what drove me to push past it, to scream the truth, to cut through the bitterness, to tear free of the world as it had been. I did everything. I tore down everything but the bare minimum to try and find what I sought.
I still didn't get there. It was worthless. There is no such thing as never. The concept of truth doesn't really exist. None of it really means anything in the end. What it all comes down to is that the clinging to something doesn't do any more than letting it go. Holding on to it doesn't make it mean any more.
But I still promised. I still whispered those words and carved the meaning into my soul. And I don't forget my promises. I told the world that I would never forget. I shed tears to seal the power of what had passed. It may not matter. It may not ultimately mean anything. It may just lead me further into hell, but that doesn't change anything.
I will never forget.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Maybe Later
I'm sorry. I'll apologize in advance (somewhat, not really) for the terrible, terrible low quality and/or lack of worthwhile anything in this post. But I'm tired, and stressed, and just generally lacking in sufficient time to actually do anything important or (especially) to type anything worthwhile.
So this post is another one of those space-fillers. Because right now, work is picking up, and important deadlines are coming up, and there quite literally doesn't seem to be enough time in the day for me to get anything done. Hopefully it'll all pass in the next two weeks, or I'll find some time and a worthwhile topic to write about.
But in the meantime, I'm making do with the tiny, short, self-mandated bare minimum for this post and hope that it gets better soon. I'm really hoping it all gets better soon, because (as most can probably imagine) this much stress is not exactly fun to deal with. So, here's another apology for the terrible post and here's hoping it gets better. Good night.
So this post is another one of those space-fillers. Because right now, work is picking up, and important deadlines are coming up, and there quite literally doesn't seem to be enough time in the day for me to get anything done. Hopefully it'll all pass in the next two weeks, or I'll find some time and a worthwhile topic to write about.
But in the meantime, I'm making do with the tiny, short, self-mandated bare minimum for this post and hope that it gets better soon. I'm really hoping it all gets better soon, because (as most can probably imagine) this much stress is not exactly fun to deal with. So, here's another apology for the terrible post and here's hoping it gets better. Good night.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Confusion
Why?
Why not?
Those are probably the two worst questions in existence. They come back to every single action, decision, and event we ever have to deal with. And it never gets easier. Because every single choice we have to make comes down to those two questions. It's like a list of pros and cons. Yes or no? Yes or no? Yes or now?
This sort of weighing of thoughts is what leads us to the events that occur every day. Ironically enough, the why and the why not tend to be factors that we consider after making a given decision, not before. It's what we always come to think about when we may have done something stupid, irrational, foolish.
We never ask these questions proactively, always assess them in retrospect. We try to find justification for our actions and answers to the questions in our minds by asking as we do. This is how we try to figure things out...this is how we try to deal with life and handle consequences. Maybe, just maybe one day we'll figure it out, be able to solidly answer those questions, make some sense of the nonsense that is life.
Or maybe we won't. In the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, life happens, most of the time because of decisions we ourselves make. We suck it up and we deal. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less. In the end, maybe the why or why not make absolutely no difference. The only thing that really does matter is what ends up happening as a result. And we don't find that out by wondering why something happened. We find that out by letting life unfold, by letting things happen to us, and by living to the fullest as much as we can.
Why not?
Those are probably the two worst questions in existence. They come back to every single action, decision, and event we ever have to deal with. And it never gets easier. Because every single choice we have to make comes down to those two questions. It's like a list of pros and cons. Yes or no? Yes or no? Yes or now?
This sort of weighing of thoughts is what leads us to the events that occur every day. Ironically enough, the why and the why not tend to be factors that we consider after making a given decision, not before. It's what we always come to think about when we may have done something stupid, irrational, foolish.
We never ask these questions proactively, always assess them in retrospect. We try to find justification for our actions and answers to the questions in our minds by asking as we do. This is how we try to figure things out...this is how we try to deal with life and handle consequences. Maybe, just maybe one day we'll figure it out, be able to solidly answer those questions, make some sense of the nonsense that is life.
Or maybe we won't. In the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, life happens, most of the time because of decisions we ourselves make. We suck it up and we deal. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less. In the end, maybe the why or why not make absolutely no difference. The only thing that really does matter is what ends up happening as a result. And we don't find that out by wondering why something happened. We find that out by letting life unfold, by letting things happen to us, and by living to the fullest as much as we can.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Interesting
That was a long trip. And of course, an interesting one. But that's how these things tend to go. Because this combination of sleep-deprivation, stress, general exhaustion, excitement, and close proximity to people you don't know too well tends to lead to some fun nights and really interesting stories to tell later.
Also, I started the past three sentences with conjunctions. Oh well, I don't really care. And they served the purpose, so whatever. And I'm tired. So I really don't care. I'm still not sure just what to make of all of this. I got pretty much no work done, but that wasn't exactly unexpected considering the circumstances...I basically knew that would happen. But other things weren't exactly planned.
The thing with such trips is that you suddenly get really close to people you barely knew before, you lose inhibition, and next thing you know, you're back and wondering if you didn't just spill out your life story to someone who was better off not knowing. So I don't know. Did I say too much? Did I overstep some lines and give too much away and tell stories that shouldn't have been told?
Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. The plus side of this whole experiences is that the insanity is enough to make everyone who went through it question the realities of what did and didn't happen. So in the end, we're all left to reflect on weekends like these. And those reflections sometimes lead to interesting conclusions, and other times merely funny stories to tell. I'm still not sure which sort this weekend is going to be. I guess that's what I get to find out now.
Also, I started the past three sentences with conjunctions. Oh well, I don't really care. And they served the purpose, so whatever. And I'm tired. So I really don't care. I'm still not sure just what to make of all of this. I got pretty much no work done, but that wasn't exactly unexpected considering the circumstances...I basically knew that would happen. But other things weren't exactly planned.
The thing with such trips is that you suddenly get really close to people you barely knew before, you lose inhibition, and next thing you know, you're back and wondering if you didn't just spill out your life story to someone who was better off not knowing. So I don't know. Did I say too much? Did I overstep some lines and give too much away and tell stories that shouldn't have been told?
Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. The plus side of this whole experiences is that the insanity is enough to make everyone who went through it question the realities of what did and didn't happen. So in the end, we're all left to reflect on weekends like these. And those reflections sometimes lead to interesting conclusions, and other times merely funny stories to tell. I'm still not sure which sort this weekend is going to be. I guess that's what I get to find out now.
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