Full disclosure: I'm slightly three sheets to the wind but I will endeavor to avoid any spelling or grammatical errors.
I was discussing this with my sister not too long ago: you know how you're fine with A, B, and C on any given day? But then there's one day out of maybe a thousand where A, B, and C just absolutely wreck you?
And when it's due to something as stupid as a particularly vivid dream, you have to wonder at just how stable you are as an individual and if all of those reasons you gave to yourself for being okay with the situation are legitimate in even the slightest way.
It's a bad idea to talk to the past, even when the past is good. It either reminds you of what you don't have or paths not taken. And that is essentially a Mobius strip that results in no forward progress. And we're all gonna die someday so progress is very much the name of the game. You're born. You have x amount of years to make an impact on the world. Go. Try not to get hit by a bus.
We all backslide. It's fine. But that doesn't make it any less fucking annoying. A, B, and C are always right there, gnawing away. But not really because you're fine with it.
Fuck me, I hate first dates.
I really feel like writing tonight and there's no real reason. As in, there's no major anything that's happened lately to warrant an entry. And there hasn't been. For a long, loooooong while.
Life just ain't happening. And it's not life's fault, it's mine. Between trying to keep my head above water (unsuccessfully) to dealing with romantic issues (unsuccessfully), I've come to the conclusion that a change is in order. I've even started buying music for the life I want to have.
My dream scenario: I somehow get out of my mortgage (I can't pay for it so that shouldn't be too difficult) and move somewhere in the British Isles. Could be Scotland or fucking Guernsey for all it matters, that's the place where I want to live. I'd get a decent editing job (one that pays me a living wage) and slowly build up my editing experience like I've been doing until I manage to get a job with an actual publisher. What I love to do is help people write. I've tried doing it on my own with absolutely no success. I'm not sure if it's a commitment problem or what but I just can't seem to...land. While I'm over there, I'll meet a charming, redheaded, leggy-but-not-tall Scottish girl with impossibly long hair that I will treat like a god damn queen. I say it that way because, as much as I would like to do that, recent attempts to do so have really dampened my spirits. Like I'm a door-to-door salesman trying to sell knives to Edward Scissorhands.
There are several reasons as to why this won't work: I have no savings, my family is here, I've never been outside of the country, my car has the steering wheel on the left side, I speak no other languages, I have only one year's experience in editing, and all of my appliances are American so the plugs won't fit. And those all seem like pretty big hurdles to jump.
Or maybe I don't mean any of it. For the first time in a VERY long time, I actually feel kind of lonely. And I don't get lonely. That isn't to say I don't have nights where I can't sleep (hello) and think about something stupid I said in middle school for at least an hour, I just mean that it's actually starting to bother me how little human interaction I am able to have on a day-to-day basis. I've actually tested myself to see if I could get through a whole day without saying a word and it wasn't even a struggle. I would wager that I've talked more to myself over the past week than I've talked to any single person in the past month. And that's just not a healthy place to be.
Am I supposed to keep struggling for the next 28 years until this place is paid off? Fuck that. Am I supposed to keep bending over backwards for people who are so wrapped up in themselves I doubt that they would even notice if I was even remotely depressed? That isn't meant to sound pitiable, I really mean that there's no point in spending time on people who don't want to spend time on you.
I do things for people because I want to be someone who does good things, who is sweet and kind and caring and loveable. I like to think I am. But experience has taught me to walk around with this 100-pound suit of armor on because I can't shake the feeling that it's all going to go wrong and it'll come out of nowhere and there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.
(And why did she have to email me? I mean, really, what was the point? It's so annoying. Why did she have to even tell me she was getting married? Before I was happy just to be talking but now, with as much as I keep seeming to find literally every song, movie and TV show about getting fucking married, I just want to tell her to walk into traffic. I don't even want to think/write/talk about it but my fucking brain has the Emo switch on full and I don't know how to turn it off. It's taking up much more of my computing power than I'd like to admit.)
I keep seeing it as running away but I think I just need to change my perspective. Either I'm running away or I'm looking for a change or I'm deluding myself into thinking I'm making a positive step when, in reality, I'm bending my aspirations to fit my situation or the universe is actually a hologram. It's one of those and it doesn't really matter which (although, if the universe is a hologram, I really shouldn't be so concerned).
To be completely honest, I just don't know. I don't know really anything. I get so upset with people who are having problems with those in their lives, whether it be significant others or friends, because they have someone there to get their back. Just having someone there to talk through your thoughts and feelings is a vast improvement over just talking to the dog. While the dog is sympathetic, he's really just thinking about food.
I want to believe tomorrow will be better than today. I want to be surrounded by people who love me and whom I love. I need my tribe. Where are you guys?
Run. Run as far away as you can. You know this life is unsustainable. You have no reason to stay. Any reasons you could come up with are immaterial and, ultimately, wishful thinking. You've done it before. You know you're capable of starting over. You would be able to keep the same jobs, too. Even get paid better if you moved to a certain somewhere. It's just a house. It's just stuff. You are you wherever you go.
Stay. Stay for as long as you can. You'll never have a place like this ever again. You'll be under someone else's thumb again if you leave. All your friends are here. It's fucking exhausting starting over. Living where it snows sucks. You'd only be doing it due to lack of other options. Running is for cowards. How has running ever helped you in the past? You have never stayed. Not once. Because staying means that you need something. And when you need something, you can get hurt.
Let go. Just let go. You stay in your house because you're afraid of living. Short bursts are okay but anything real absolutely terrifies you. Because you mistakenly thought you had something real before. Now that supposedly real thing is rearing its ugly head after all this time and you still cling to it. Like the edge of a cliff. The thing is you've already been through the fall. It's the letting go that scares you. You know that there's so much life out there but you're scared that you'll never reach the level that you did before. And you also know that's bullshit. Surrender. Even though you don't have control anyway, you should still surrender. What comes after this? What comes after living like you're afraid the mob is coming after you? I'll tell you what. Nothing.
We never stay, and in the end, we lose everyone.
So now what? Wait for the email telling you it's over. Wait for another saying if you can stay. Wait for another telling you if there's any option other than burning it all down again.
Just keep waiting. It's what you're best at.
You have an appliance which draws too much power and the breaker can't handle it, so it trips. Turns itself off to avoid an overload.
Surely that's the way it works with sanity.
Three months behind on rent, water heater nonfunctional, no steady work, $1 in the bank account, overdue on at least three utilities, a mouse infestation, my mother's a basket case in an impossible situation, my dad is getting divorced from an incredibly manipulative wife, and I think my car is hanging by a thread.
Maybe all of this has to happen. For the reason.
The good is not outweighing the bad lately but the good might just be enough to offset the bad for the short term. If any of it happens.
And all that really matters to me is a stupid email from an ex-girlfriend. How things have changed.
I'm hanging off the edge and it's all I can do to not look down.
Five years ago, all of this would have broken me. People talk about the light at the end of a tunnel...how do they know it isn't an anglerfish that's just going to eat you?
- A game/app where you can violently dismember the owl from Candy Crush
- A "Choose Your Own Adventure" porno
- Pants with a built-in, battery-operated heating pad
- A watch with a phone that only lets you decline calls, with an option to let the person know that you declined them with varying levels of anger
- A robot that's only there for hugs. Bonus: this will ease the way for fully functional robots by 2025
- A supermarket that only sells ingredients. Fruits, vegetables, spices, etc. Like Whole Foods, but without the pretentious, $50 water bottles
- A trench coat with a pizza warmer built into the back (mostly for the New York/Chicago market)
- Shoes that are magnetized to each other so that when you take them off, they stay together
- An edible marker that you can eat when the ink runs dry
- A suit that, when reversed, is also a hoodie
- A tie that's also a yoyo
- Cheetos in the shape of crackers
- Earmuffs made out of Dixie cups, so you always have something to drink out of in the winter
- Sonar functionality in a phone, so you can pretend to be a submarine in your own home with greater accuracy
- LED strips on the front and back of cars with customizable messages such as "Thanks for letting me in" or "Get off your phone, dingus"
Also, is it illegal to shoot Nerf guns at cars that cut you off?
I can't leave my house.
I really have no reason to. There's plenty of food. I do have to go to work though...
I hate it. I hate talking to so many people. I hate having to pretend that I care about their lives. I hate having to adopt this lifestyle that's completely vacuous and materialistic. I called in Friday because the weather was evil. I called in Monday faking an illness. I don't want to go anymore. I want it to just stop. Nothing but voices all of the time. Lying to each other. I can't do it.
Money is money. That goes away and it's the mad scramble for survival again. So I have to go back. And exist in what is becoming a daily nightmare.
Hang in there.
This is not the story I want told about me when I'm gone. There's more to me than this.
Oh god I think I'm about to be really stupid.
I really just want to be honest.
(In which the author signposts his/her intent, thereby notifying the reader not only of tone but of possible juicy tidbits to come.)
Either I survive or I live.
(A strong opening line. What does it mean? What situation does this person inhabit that would cause him/her to feel this way? And the themes! Hope/Optimism. Human tenaciousness. The inner being. The struggle of mankind. This may hold promise.)
Either I let it go or I do something.
(I'm hooked. I don't know about you but I'm hooked.)
It's these little things that fuck me up but there's no way you still care.
(And then the author totally muffs it by spewing some idiotic notion. Already I know it's about a girl. And why resort to cursing? Really, it's just unnecessary. Also, why can't I get to know the protagonist before I find out their problems? It's self-pity is what it is is what is [sic]. I mean, the guy/gal's right. There's no way I still care.)
Yeah, I don't know. This is just how it goes. You know?
My mind goes strange places when I'm unemployed.
I'm thinking of the Schrodinger's cat paradox. But what if you're the cat? What if you're experiencing everything from the inside? I mean, I know the point is to show, from the observer's point of view, that there's no way to prove that the cat's alive or dead so both possibilities must exist simultaneously. But what about from the other side? If you're the one locked in a box with no way to perceive the poison being released, would you exist as both alive and dead simultaneously? I mean, the observer's going to look inside at some point but what if your reality is different from the one they perceive?
That's the problem with subjective reality. I mean, if a person's heart stopped in the middle of a crowd and he wasn't breathing for five, ten minutes, most people would say that person is dead. But the one doctor who only just arrived rushes in and tries to revive them. I mean, yeah, that's a matter of ignorance but the doctor's reality holds the possibility that the person who's heart has stopped is still alive or at least can be brought back to life.
Okay, without metaphors. Reality can differ from person to person. Recollection of past events can differ from person to person. Some would argue that it's a problem with the recording mechanism, the brain, but what if, instead, we're all experiencing completely different realities? Up is up and down is down but only in the sense of us standing on this planet and perceiving our own orientation. Look at the earth from the moon, though. Are you looking up or down at it? If we remove ourselves from the parameters of our own interpretations, is anything truly real? Maybe that's what death is. We experience things through electrical impulses in our brains but that's just a framework. Remove humans from the earth and the earth keeps on spinning like It always did. But it also doesn't because there's no other creature that perceives it. And surely something can exist even though no one has any idea if it's there. Ultraviolet light is ever present because we see the effects and can observe it with special tools. And we assume it's always there even when we can't observe or view the effects. But what if it isn't? What if the only things that exist, regardless of categorization or perception, only do so because a person is made aware of it? Do we create our own reality or is it created for us?
And how would one even go about proving it?
If the multiverse does exist, wouldn't there be a version of me in a world that not only has proven the theory but could reach my dimension, pop his head in and say, "Yes, sir, you are correct."? If time travel will one day exist, wouldn't it be plausible that someone would go back a week and let the team developing it know that their efforts will be fruitful? Maybe travel into the future is the only plausible option. Why run the risk of fucking up anything that came before?
This is what I think about when I have nothing to do. I hear some people think of normal things.
Like I said, strange places.
Letters I've written...
Never meaning to send. More and more I'm thinking I should be the one in charge. I'm getting really sick of being right all the time...and no one noticing.
There's a reason for everything, sure, but when a tree falls on your house, your computer crashes, your place of work goes bankrupt, and your best friend (or someone you thought could be) deserts you...
...It can be tough to see the upside.
But I know it's there. It's out there. And it feels so very close. Where is it? A book? Archery lessons? Match.com? Someone tell me!
I'm supposed to be this way. This is all leading to something. I would have hoped something earth-shattering, maybe a small, happy family, or even a mutant power or two. In my wildest dreams, immortality. I'm not even joking.
But maybe it's something else. I honestly feel like I'm the only one who sees the world for what it is. Endless opportunity and love and pain and success and failure. It's wonderful. And the amount of things yet to come...I can't wait to see it all.
Yet, when it comes to me? Am I just going to exist, never settling on any one mode of thinking, a single passion? I don't understand people who say they've always wanted to be something. "I've always wanted to be a marine biologist." What the fuck are they talking about? How is that not settling for something you're comfortable with?
I want to be able to say "I love you" for once.
Spur of the moment decisions have their place.
There are two kinds of people in this world: the kind of people that kick the seat at a movie theater and the kind that don't.
Just got back from watching "Oz: The Great and Powerful", which was crazy pretty, and remembered I haven't updated this thing in a while. Probably because my world has finally fallen back into a rhythm. Wake, work, sleep, repeat. There's so much comfort in consistency but I know it's only a matter of time before I get restless again.
But that is a problem that can be dealt with when it comes. For now, the house is slowly being put back in order. Fences are being built, plants are being planted. I'm enjoying landscaping far more than I expected. It's the upkeep that concerns me. But, see, these are the kinds of problems I've been looking for: problems that aren't really problems, just things to deal with.
Part of me thinks I don't deserve to live someplace so nice. Part of me thinks I deserve a second story. I know one thing for sure, I feel a lot more complete here than I ever did in the city. I will always keep trying to like people but, honestly, they're the worst. Seatkickers. I mean, really. How is that even something I need to address? How is it that people aren't born with the impulse to not be awful? Still, if it's true that there are seatkickers and non-seatkickers, then it makes sense for the non-seatkickers to put the seatkickers in their place. Don't be angry, just tell people when they're being idiots. That's how you live a full life.
Sure, some things are missing. There's two rooms that have no furniture. I'm down to two forks (where the hell do they go?!). The fridge is mostly juice and pizza. Just the sort of things that are inherent to the bachelor lifestyle...that I am monumentally sick of living. There is someone I'm interested in but I'm getting no reciprocation. At the moment, I'm just trying to enjoy being nice to someone cute on a daily basis.
...you know, I feel like I've lost the thread here somewhere. Narrative cohesion. Something that would be nice not only in a blog but in, you know. life, too.
In the words of Hunter S. Thompson: "No. Calm down. Learn to enjoy losing."