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| I talk too much to myself |
[12 Sep 2005|01:02am] |
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What the fuck is it with spiders all of a sudden?
There's this fat ass quarter-sized spider that spun a web right above the back door onto our patio. He's kind of red and has a cool orangey stripe-ish pattern going on. He's outside, so I can kind of just sit back and admire how badass he is (as long as I remember to duck every time I go through the door).
The other night, I went into the bathroom and saw this big black thick-legged spider scamper across the floor and right behind the toilet. I've checked twice underneath the seat every time for almost a week now.
Last night, I wandered into my room groggy-eyed and tired and turned on the light. As soon as I look across, I see another huge greyish white spider slowly lower himself down from my window and onto my pillow where he strolled off the edge into I-have-no-idea-where. So I grabbed my blankets (shook them out) and went to go crash on the matress in the other room.
About twenty minutes ago, I sneezed. When I opened my eyes, facing my mid-section, I see a little black 8-legged son of a bitch scamper across the pocket of my hoodie.
What the fuck? I mean, I'm not arachnaphobic or anything, but come on! I mean, who doesn't get a little spazzed out watching one of those bastards crawl around where you walk/sit/sleep. It might be cool if one of them were radioactive and bit me, giving me awesome wall-crawling abilities and shit, but chances are that these guys have nothing to offer me but a red itchy bump that'll last a day or two. And the Snapple Fact about how people eat an average of 60 spiders in their sleep over a lifetime or whatever doesn't make me any less hostile towards them, either.
Meh. Anyway, tomarrow is monday again. Fortunately, both sides have already presented their case and the lawyers are going to negotiate on juror's instructions and shit to prepare for their closing arguments. We should start deliberations at some point this week. Anyway, that means that the judge doesn't want us in until 1:30pm or so tomarrow - so I get to sleep in (a little).
I started playing FF7 again out of sheer boredom. In two days of playing, I'm at the part just after Aerith runs away, but just before she...er, just before you find her. It's kind of weird reading all the text again (where as most of the times that I re-played it, I just kind of scrolled through it to get to the good parts). The beginning kind of sucks...there's a lot of incomplete statements, mislabeled dialouge and gramatical/spelling errors (not just Barret yelling "Shu'up, %&%$#!!"). It really started out as a second-rate, low budget game...but right around the part where you launch your assault on Shin-Ra HQ, it suddenly cleans up. It's like they fired the original writer and hired a new guy to do the work.
It's also cool reading it the way that it was meant to be percieved. Usually, I look at Cloud the way that I know he turns out in the end - which kind of kills his "transformation". Or I look at Red XIII as the kind of dude that he was post-Cosmo Canyon quest, because that's what I knew he became. But it enchances the experience, in a sense, to take the approach of a first-timer.
...
I know that must have all sounded nerdy to some people, but you've got to remember that FF7 was like my first epic novel. It was released in '97 so I was like 11 years old then.
Anyway, yeah. Nerf spiders. I'm tired.
EDIT: Also, I'm glad I decided a while back to start typing properly...you know, with caps and punctuation and shit. It makes me feel less retarded sometimes.
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| I'm....a puppet? |
[08 Sep 2005|09:39pm] |
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I meant to post earlier, because I had some heavy stuff going on in my head. But I didn't and now I forget what it was I wanted to post about. I'm still in jeans, and I've still got my belt on the 5 holes in...so I'll change into some sweatpants and a hoodie and see if it helps my memory any.
` well, changing didn't do a lot for my head. But I grabbed a glass of milk and went outside and stared into nothing for a while, and it kind of came back.
To summarize...when I take the time to think about it, there are a whole lot of things that I feel like I could have done better. Inparticular, there were a large number of people in my life that I had done a much better job of...keeping. Or something. I don't quite know how to explain it. Part of it is staying in contact, which I guess is what it would sound like to someone else. But a lot of it is also...like, before there's any real seperation. When I still talk to people on a regular basis and stuff...and we're still cool...but there's just that slight sense of "detatchment". I mean, in every relationship, there comes a point where things either step up and start to really blossum, or they just reach a premature peak and stop growing. It's not always a bad thing - in fact, it usually happens when things are going great...so for things to cap out and perhaps stay that way can actually be a good thing. But sometimes...if only for the sake of excitement and mutual interest in the experience, it would be great to take that big step.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think it sucks how many times I can recall having one of those relationships that accurately holds the title "friendship with benefits." I've never ever thought of myself as someone who has any kind of problems or fears with closeness or intimacy. If anything, I'd always figured that I'd be the kind of guy who would embrace it. But the fact that I've never really HAD it, in as many opportunities as I've had...is that some kind of freak coincidence? It could be, but it's unlikely. I DO know that I have problems with initiation. As in like, I don't like starting things, or at least making things different than they are or were. I've always been well aware of my discomfort with change.
....
what the fuck. Are all my thoughts about what's wrong with me? Seriously, every reflection in recent memory has been somewhere on that subject. That can't be healthy.
Well, so anyway, I was thinking today about how I just kind of wished that I had been a little more adventerous in the past. I think I'd be in a much better position today if I had been willing to risk good for the possibility of great.
And I guess I'll have to stop this shit.
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| WIN A FREE TRIP TO PARADISE! (some restrictions may apply. see application for details) |
[05 Sep 2005|11:36pm] |
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Keeping it simple, but keeping up to date: Labor Day...I made a concious effort not to put forth any effort today. Not sure if that defeats the purpose or not...but on the whole, this weekend was a pretty excellent vacation. A lot of people think of "vacations" as trips to Hawaii or London...or visits to the grandparent's house 12 states away. Most people think that it's not a vacation unless you check into a hotel room and go somewhere important. But me...I think that a real vacation involves nothing but a clear mind and the opportunity to find your place in life.
Maybe part of the reason that I find it so hard to stress out...part of why I'm always so calm has to do with the fact that I take a "vacation" at least three times a day. While I don't go anywhere, I do leave everything behind.
That's got to count for something.
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| the sunrise promises nothing new |
[05 Sep 2005|04:23am] |
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I meant to post a meaningful...entry thing. Tonight.
I got distracted, though...I found a piece of paper on which I had written stuff that I couldn't type into here one night when my computer was being stupid. And I figured I should type it out tonight before re-reading it, because I remember seeing it before, reading it, and deciding not to enter it because it sounded stupid.
...I got about 6 lines in before I decided not to type it in because it sounded stupid.
Anyway...I went to the A's game tonight. A's got owned. Yankees...the fucksticks. Nachos hit the spot, though. Got to kick it with j, though - and that's cool. Then I did a shitty job of talking to rini. I don't know why, but I got real cold and matter-of-fact just before that conversation started. And maybe I didn't sound like it so much...but it felt like it, and I do a terrible job of talking to people when I think I'm starting to sound meh-tastic. I'd apologize again for that, but I just realized that I've been doing a lot of that lately. Not to be all "ooh-rah, apologizing shows weakness!" and shit, but I think it would be healthy if I cut down on the I'm Sorrys.
Phsycho-analyzing myself is something I do far too much of, as well. That, however, is something that will take a little more convincing before I quit it. My most recent partial discovery is the theory that the reason behind much of my social introversion is due to the my misled belief that I have to be in a romantic relationship to be happy. Holding on to that belief (even when it's just in the back of my head) leads me to constantly have that slight bit of concern for how I'd be seen by someone as a potential partner. I know it sounds kind of retarded for me, but it helps to be so straightforward about it - so technical. That way, I get the feeling that I'm just a doctor giving out a diagnosis and perscribing the correct medications for the patient's problem. It just...happens to be that both the doctor and the patient are me. And I'm really super underqualified as a doc, and I make a pretty shitty patient going into the physical acting like I already know what's wrong...but still.
Anyway, my solution is to do what (I think) I had done before any of this shit started - to drop the whole get the girl routine. Instead of internally focusing on finding that special someone (when you're looking is when it's hardest to find...is what I've been told by reliable sources), it would be easier to just get what I DO need in my life - friends. It's felt like I've had a real lack homie-ism over the past couple months. My best friend is someone completely different than the dude who became my bro, and the dudes who used to be my crew are slowly becoming the fellas of my past youth. It's entirely my fault, and I know that. I think that a big part of why it's come to be like this is because of my overattention towards girls and women. I'm too young to be doing that shit, and I know it.
You know...for someone who's always been straightedge, whether intentionally or just by chance, I sure have an itching desire to just go get smashed and forget the day. Every time Rob invites me out to go kick it, and I assume (often rightly so) that it entails drinking, I just go into "no" mode. I remember I used to have reasons...I remember when people asked me why, I'd have answers for them. But with every invite or offer now...I just feel like I was shitting myself. "It fucks you up" - well, of course it does. So do a lot of things that I do that I really don't give a shit about. I mean, I have a general *I don't give a shit* attitude...so why's this different? I remember I used to feel morally obligated to stay away from activities that I felt weren't my place, in some way or another. Or some bullshit excuse like that. The whole morality thing just isn't there for me anymore. I mean, I still kind of worry when my friends go out to reach caveman status and expect to drive themselves home...but beyond that, I honestly don't see any "wrongness" behind it. Not like I used to.
I fucking hate parties. I've always hated the whole idea of being in some random place with a bunch of random people screwing around and pretending like they know you. But then, I just kind of suck at meeting people, too. I don't know what it is, but there's something about parties that just peeves me. Maybe it's the mental projection of drunkenness - and the perception that it directly equates to fakeness: an aspect or trait that I greatly despise. But really, I don't think I see it that way anymore. At this point, I just don't like parties because I know I'm going to end up hanging out outside waiting for everyone to forget I'm there. And it bugs the SHIT out of me when they don't. (what the fuck?)
I won't even try to give the diagnosis on that one - no fucking idea what's up with that scenario.
Anyway, I think another big part of my disassociative behavior is just because I've become accustomed to closing myself off - probably from my obsessive concern with saying the wrong thing. In fact, I was just reading a private post of a conversation from a year or so ago. I copied out the post and reviewed it...much to the degree of "Ah, fucking hell...what's wrong with me? What the hell was I saying?" But this time, it really didn't seem so bad. In fact, it seemed pretty normal, to me. Almost GOOD, even. I mean...I only wish that I could hold down a conversation like that right around now. Well, it was kinda awkward because of who I was talking to, and the fact that she was prone to "....huh?"s...but all things considered, it was a pretty steady, smooth chat. But I bet what fucked up the end result of that relationship was the fact that I flipped out and worried about how stupid I must have sounded then that I turned a decent thing into a pretty jumbled mix of confusion and uncertainty.
...that made no literary sense, I'm sure.
Anyway, the point is that I should really just stop being so weird by default, and go back to being weird because it's who I am. I mean, if someone's going to think I'm fucked up, it should be for the right reasons. *nod*
That was meant to be optimistic, in case you missed it.
Meh. I was going somewhere earlier when I mentioned...IF I mentioned the fact that I've been too closed off. My intentions here were to give me a bit of the flavor of self-honesty; I'm trying to allow myself to say what's on my mind (in one way or another) instead of just pushing it to the back of my head and warning myself not to think about it anymore. Pretty sure that made no sense, either. It's not my english that's fucked up, though - it's my (in)ability to make the transition from thoughts to words. It gets tricky sometimes...especially when you're only allowing yourself to think for the first time in recent memory.
Good place to start, though.
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| Nerf chocolate |
[05 Sep 2005|02:45am] |
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Advanced Global Personality Test Results | Take Free Advanced Global Personality Testpersonality tests by similarminds.comStability results were high which suggests you are very relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic.. Orderliness results were low which suggests you are overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense too often of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment. Extraversion results were moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and secretive. trait snapshot: secretive, reclusive, messy, disorganized, introverted, unassertive, rarely worries, dislikes large parties, does not like to fit in, does not need to control others, solitary, ambivalent about chaos, tough, leisurely, does not respect authority, not aggressive, observer, abstract, impractical, dislikes leadership, daydreamer, bizarre, does not make friends easily, not a perfectionist, suspicious, rarely irritated, strong physical instincts, unsympathetic at times, risk taker, submissive, weird, sarcastic, strange
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| Hopelessly misinformed. |
[31 Aug 2005|09:12pm] |
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After spending about an hour and a half arguing politics with my pops, I have decided that I sound eerily enough like a socialist to worry myself.
However, I still made sense. I still feel confident that I am more of an idealist than anything else, and THAT (considering my age and present stance in life) is not really something worth calling alarm to.
But still. What the fuck.
I've never really argued against democracy like the way I just did.
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| LAZERGUNSOMGPEWPEWPEW |
[29 Aug 2005|08:14pm] |
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First off, I need to apologize for providing the opportunity to be misinterpreted with my last post...entry...thing.
It wasn't meant to be a brief rant on my diappointment in the political system - that I'm over. I was just bitching that I got called in to get called in to sit in a room and wait to get called in... Anyway, I'm on a jury now and it's really not that bad. It's exposure to the legal system that interested me quite a bit in school, and it's kind of given me a little spark of inspiration for the first time in quite a long while.
Also, I ran into another older woman for whom I've got the hots. I haven't decided if my adventures with women 25 and older is good for me or really really unhealthy - but either way, I'm kind of enjoying it. This girl's a mom, too. Again, I haven't decided if that's kind of hot or if it should be making me...you know...come to my senses and run away or something. But, once again, it's fun...so meh.
I'm pretty sure it's illegal to do so, but my boss is considering firing me since I (sort of made it obvious that I was going to) actively seek out the opportunity to take part in my American Duty of being a part of a fair and impartial jury trial. But...I could care less if I get fired. Like I said, I'm somewhat inspired for the first time in I almost can't remember how long, and I'd like to think that I have the ability to hold on to that bit of inspiration long enough to make something out of it. What I mean is that I'll soak in this learning experience as much as I can and use it as reasoning to justify my dreams of seeking a career and life in Law - not law practice, although I've always believed (partially because of so many people telling me) that I'd be a great lawyer - but in law enforcement.
I talked with my brother for a while when he was down here...we were dicsussing some options for my future - being a cop was the one that he seemed to have the most visible approval for (although he kind of dug the prospect of me being a bartender, as well). That meant a lot because my brother's opinion has always been one that I've valued almost immeasurably. He's a pretty amazing dude, and he's the kind of guy who's got a lot to say when it comes to future and life paths...even if he'd tell you otherwise. And I was talking a bit with my pops the other day about it, and it also seemed like a good idea to him. Getting that kind of positive feedback and stuff from the only two male family members that have ever mattered in my life was a shot in the arm for me.
It also seems that there couldn't be much of a better time and/or place for me to take interest in the idea than here and now. Trying out for the Oakland Police Academy is (if you want to take the optimist's point of view) a great start. If you can be a cop here, you'd get more action in two or three years on the beat than you would as an officer anywhere else...with the obvious exceptions of LA, NY and maybe vegas. That's good because A) it weeds out the people for whom it simply isn't the right career choice and B) if you've got OPD on your resume, you shouldn't have a hard time finding a law enforcement job anywhere else in the country. And although I've never really liked the idea of relocating out of the only place I've ever felt comfortable in my life, I also have come to terms that I simply cannot afford the cost of living in the bay area, even with a set career. So an open transfer position sounds cool in my book.
Other rationale? It's a social job - that's definately something I need. It's active - something to keep me out of the house and in good shape. It's honorable (in the eyes of some), in that it carries with it a sense of duty and discipline...which are also things that I've felt would be neccessities to keep me happy in the long run. And really, being a cop is the slightly safer alternative to being a marine or jar-head like I dreamt about in a somewhat subtle fashion as a kid as well as a young adult. And the one part I've dreaded most about either is the extremists of rule and perfect order ("Spin shine those soldier!" "You think that's funny, maggot?"). I like a set style of living - I just like to bend the rules and test my limits a little more. But really, who'd fit the role better than I? I'm faithful, but not religious. I'm rough, but not violent. I'm strict, but not serious. I'm a moral idealist, but not a mormon or nazi freak!
Also, I think the man in uniform thing could do wonders for my whole self-esteem problem thing. wewt!
No, but seriously...It's something to take into very serious consideration for the next three or four weeks while I slowly try to turn that spark of motivation into a steady flame of inspired decision.
On a side note: nerf books - too interesting.
EDIT: also... http://www.personal.psu.edu/faculty/m/p/mpb207/photos/oakland05/
those are some shots my bro took when he came to town and we went to great america a couple weeks ago.
my pops is in the grey shirt, bro in the hawaiian and me in the green lantern tee.
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| almost a regret |
[23 Aug 2005|10:40pm] |
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I was so proud when I registered and voted in the 2004 presidential election...
And then it turned out to do nothing.
Now I got called in for jury duty tomarrow morning.
...*sigh*.
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[27 Jun 2005|01:13pm] |
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I'm guessing McDonalds either got sued or had a food inspector dude visit the one that I go to by Home Depot...because for the first time in years, the meat in my quarter pounder actually resembled something that might have at one point been remotely close to a quarter pound. Not that there's any relevance in that.
The A's aren't shitty anymore, and I'm kind of excited about that. For like a week, I was kinda disappointed that they were winning because it meant that I was wrong about my devil ray-like outlook for this season...but then I was like, "Wait, dude, no...they're winning, wtf. Sweet!"
Anyway, I'm guessing that it's approaching time for me to come out of hiding and go to my first game of the season. I have to admit that I miss the cold hard (sometimes wet and/or sticky) broken green seat in the left field bleachers that I always sit in. I'm also running out of usable cups, so it'd be nice to go steal a dozen souvenier size sodas. Yeah. Next homestand, I say. *nod*
Revenge of the Sith was a pretty badass movie...but the book is way better. I'm planning on going to see the movie again just to kinda re-interpret the movie now that I've gotten a hold of all the extended dialouge and character thought and stuff that film just can't quite do right. So there's another thing I'll have to do.
Zel has 3 pieces of Nightslayer armor and I am a loser. The end.
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| I hear it's rainy and depressing in seattle. I'd like to live there. |
[08 Jun 2005|01:02am] |
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Meh.
Last entry was the short version of what I got out of -yet another- long drawn out conversation with x person who decided to say the kind of thing to me that would destroy any chance of speaking to me on a civil level ever again. Which is cool, I guess. Anyway, It hurt for a night. I took some aspirin, had a glass of ice water and went upstairs and pretended to lift weights to light music for a while. After that, I fell asleep with my stuffed cheetah, Swang, and fell asleep. Upon waking up, I decided not to let one person's unfortunate opinion of me determine how I felt about myself or -things- in general. I made mistakes, but I didn't do anything "wrong" to her. Game on, drama over.
Do I feel bad that I feel nothing at all anymore? Not really. I guess it was really nice to be completely honest and straight forward about things for once. In fact...now that I think about it, I think that the reason she's so worked up about it may be because she's been so DIShonest and closed off about everything for the last, oh, two months. But eh.
I kinda wish that life was easier than it is. Like I could just pull up to a drive-thru and be like "yeah, hi...I'll take a sane girlfriend who just wants to hang out and see where things go. Extra humor, but please hold the drama. Can I get that with a side of mellow, too? Great. And to drink, I'll have a large glass of laid back." I suppose it doesn't help my efforts much to live a life of relative hermitry...but that requires effort. And I'm still trying to convince myself the obvious truth that laziness and reluctance to embrace reality are two completely seperate things. Once I get that through the head of that stubborn little shit that is me, I think I'll be ready to move up.
It's kinda weird, though...
I always complain about not having the chances and stuff, but I've recently been questioning how true that is. After being told once that I "had the chance, but just didn't take it," I wondered if that may have been the case with other people. Or maybe my "it just isn't my place to do so" excuse carried over there, as well. Upon further review of my last three years of luckless relationships, I've come to the conclusion that I have passed up at LEAST three wonderful opportunities to be happy with someone because I, in one way or another, felt like it "wasn't my place".
Or I could just stop falling for girls with boyfriends. You know, that might have something to do with it, too.
Ah well. Live and learn, I guess. I'd like to think that I took a lot from this recent failed encounter with the Female kind. I'd like to believe that it wasn't just another recurrence of the past, and that this may be the time for change. I'd like to think that I'm a better person. Not just a "good" person (which, to be honest, I'm sick and f*cking tired of being told), but a person worth...
Iono. A person worth x - x being whatever it is that people feel y about - y being whatever feeling it is that people like me write entries about.
Still have a headache, though.
I was kidnapped today. Tuesday being the release of WoW patch 1.5, I got the chance to kill people in Battlegrounds for a couple hours. Lag acted up, I got bored and in came some friends to take me out to go do nothing somewhere else. Awesome, I say. Got to hang out with some people I haven't seen in a while and experience daylight on an otherwise empty weekday. I kinda feel like I've lost the ability to speak and make sense at the same time, though. Maybe it's just because I was talking about star wars and my brain is a bit fried. Either way, I had a hard time communicating verbally for the majority of today. I miss the saftey of routine, and the great things that it granted me.
And maybe phone conversations aren't so bad, afterall.
BLEH. I just got a totally off-topic thought, and I don't feel like double-posting.
Jon, you're a fucking klepto. Stop stealing shit. Seriously.
And wtf is up with Rob, man. I feel like I should just talk to him some time - pull him aside and be like "dude, wtf?" But I'd feel weird stepping into a person's life like that. He looks happy, I guess. My experience in the matter tells me it's all a wall of bullshit built up to mask off painful shit and awkward realities that we think no one wants to see, but still. It's either that or he's just being young and stupid...which is fair enough, I suppose.
But still. I mean, yeah, I'm kinda pissed that my last two experiences with him have been like "hey, dude, I know you don't drink, but uh...COME GET WASTED!" That isn't what really bothers me, though. It's the fact that he no longer seems to see the err in h---
Meh. Fuckinay, I have to use my excuse again, but in a different context. "It's not my place" to intervene. What he does is his buisness. Without trying to be an overdramatic tight-ass or an unloyal ex-friend, I'd like for him to know that in the long run, it's a fork in the road. I'm sorry it's the case, but one can either follow the road of x life or be a homie of mine. Can't have both.
Read: I won't follow you down the path of alchoholism and youthful idiocy. Not to supervise, not to sit in the backround and pretend to enjoy myself, not even to pull you aside at times and warn you that what you're getting yourself into may not be the kind of life that you'd want for yourself. Being friends since birth is cool, but it's not everything. For the first time ever, I must say...if we were to never talk again, I would miss the memories, but I would not miss the person who brought them. Who are you now, bro? What are you doing?
But like I said, I won't get in the way. It just sucks.
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[05 Jun 2005|06:11am] |
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"I wish I had never met you."
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| I remember the internet being slightly less retarded |
[16 May 2005|01:23pm] |
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People are cool.
Robots suck.
emotion cant die: dude
SmarterChild: During the course of our conversations you may see sponsored messages. These messages have the word "sponsorship" at the end. Sponsors help me remain free of cost to you! To learn more about sponsored messages, click here.
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emotion cant die: ...nevermind.
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Smarterchild is now a fuckstick/assmuffin/bitchcake.
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| the wall we must climb |
[16 May 2005|12:41am] |
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It's weird how my brain works...
I remember how I was so worked up last time I posted, but when I think about it now, I honestly can't remember for the life of me what in the hell it was that I was worked up about. The specifics totally dodge me.
But eh. I guess it killed "it" for me. Two days ago, I got into another argument that turned into a discussion that developed into a debate that morphed into an apology that backstepped into a question that ninja-flipped into a confession.
I confessed: I don't care.
I did care at one point, but at the moment of speech two nights ago, I simply didn't give a shit. It was hard, I admit, knowing that she did care, and that saying that I didn't would be painful for her...but I had grown really sick and tired of holding it in. I have to wonder if it's more hurtful to be told that your love is not mutual or to hold that secret in. I do know that it sucks being told all of these wonderful, beautiful things while you just sit back and think "too bad I don't feel the same..."
It's not like I meant it to be that way. I never wanted it to get like that. I had no intention of creating that scenario. It just...happened. They say that love "just happens" so I guess it's reasonable to think that sometimes it "just happens" to one person but not the other. Though I'm not sure if that's the whole truth. I may have thought the word at some point, but I certainly never said it. I make an effort not to say things unless I'm absolutely 100% sure that I mean them - and I never felt that strongly about her. I think I may have fell out of love, though. If it's possible to fall out of love without ever being in love, then I guess that's what I'd call it.
She's real bitter, though. She's got a bad habit of burning bridges and holding grudges. If I cared, that would really hurt.
I realized the truth about just how much I didn't care earlier today. It's a lack of jealousy - when she tries everything in her power to squeeze envy from you and you can't help but shrug and smirk...that's when you know.
I'd feel bad...you know, like cold and heartless or something...that is, if she weren't such a bitch about it. So instead, I actually find it kind of amusing.
I tried so hard for so long to give her everything pillow-soft...to make things sound a lot lighter than they really were. I tried the whole time to tell her what she needed to hear in a way that she would interpret as someone else's fault instead of her own. So maybe that actually made the "get over it" or the "let it go" not only sharp-edged, but also kind of surprising. But eh.
Sympathy or empathy aren't things that interest me. To be honest, I don't even think it's important to have people understand what it is that I'm talking about. The only thing I'm after is a way to get me to understand what in the hell I'm saying.
Asking "what's wrong with me" doesn't grab my attention like it once did. I've lost interest in my own problems, in a sense. I don't care what it is that makes me act as fucked up as I do, but instead just want to know what to do about it. I want to be able to predict myself...if that makes any sense.
Three girls in my past have told me that they were in "love" with me. Somehow, I've managed to never lie to their faces about feeling the same. I've never responded with the words that (you'd think) these girls wanted to hear. It's like they were content with me not answering. I think that, in a way, they preferred it like that. For some really fucking impossible-to-understand reason, I think these girls wanted to love someone that could not love them back. Having this been the first time I've ever thought of it like that, I shouldn't have to mention that I always blamed myself for not saying such things in return. Though I knew I'd have been lying, I always felt that I owed it to those girls somehow. I felt like I was a monster for not loving them back. So when the day came when things had to end (because of the gap in emotion, they did indeed have to end), I could never tell who hurt more - the one who loved and lost or the one who never loved at all.
I wonder if I'm even capable of mutual love. I can name two people in my life who I would have been able to say "I love you" to, and neither of them would have ever given me the opportunity.
Or maybe that's me being a moron again. Damn me for reading Perks too many times!
I know I don't participate in life. I sure as hell know that I use thought to (not) do so.
~~As long as I can think up worlds in which I'm capable of feeling x, I'll never actually have to feel it!~~
Like I said, though, I no longer care why that is. I just want to know how to not do it.
I want to know how to allow myself to love someone, and to tell them so.
...
Hm. Food for thought.
I shall meditate on this.
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| Meh |
[08 Apr 2005|02:33pm] |
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bitter, angry music to put me into a good mood |
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Love sucks. I have 8 hand-written pages of what I'm sure any reader would consider to be extremely persuasive evidence to support this theory of mine, but about seven and a half pages through, I decided that I'd rather not be the guy that's to blame for anyone finding out that the tooth fairy is just a myth. The theory of love, to those who know little or nothing about it and/or have experienced nothing even remotely close to it, can be quite reassuring. Believing that love exists is the grown-up way of keeping us all from bursting into tears because we lost a tooth, and thus, the world is coming to an end. No wait! There's a quarter involved! Yeah, see, this magical little creature with wings flies in at night and graces us with this gift that's so fulfilling, so envigorating, that it almost makes up for the feeling we all get when we lose a piece of ourselves.
Coming to the realization that fairy tales, in all forms, are utter bullshit is the first step to becoming completely miserable. And thus, I'll hold back. I'll keep the words on the backs of UPS order confimation forms - which, at the time, were the only thing that I could find to write on. I'll get over the excrutiating cramp that I felt in my hand after pumping out page after page of negativity. I'll just go ahead and let go of the tears I fought back as I wrote out what were quite possibly the most painful things I have ever thought. I'll leave everyone else to find their shiny quarters underneath their pillows.
I internally debated for hours last night on whether or not it's worth it to believe in something so perfect, only to have such an ideal ripped from your chest, spat on, and discarded like a defective piece of candy.
Sometimes I wonder if that perfect feeling is worth it. With great pleasure comes great responsibility, I say. When you're on top of the world, everything seems so right...you're amidst the coulds, breathing in heaven itself. You feel so at ease, like you're floating.
In reality, that feeling deep in the center of your gut is the same gravitational uncertainty you get in the last instant right before you plunge. That is love: the precursor to falling farther and harder than you ever imagined possible.
There is no perfect girl. The perfect feeling is a cruel dellusion
I decided in the middle of page seven that it isn't my place to tell people what to believe, or even what to expect. Santa Claus is your own buisness. If you want to believe that shit, that's on you. I shouldn't have the right to ruin your holiday or relationship experience just because mine has been unfathomably shitty for as long as I can remember.
Though I must say, I'm rather sick of being able to forgive everyone and anyone in the world but myself. I've grown rather disgusted with myself for always finding a way to make 'maybe it was my fault' sound so reasonable.
Reason. Logic.
That's my biggest problem, I think. I should have realized by now that emotion is the one thing that should never be lumped together with logic. I try way too hard to make sense of things...I try to make love sound like something that's understandable, when it clearly isn't. For some reason, I continually expect everyone around me to be the same: to expect to find reason in things. Somehow, I haven't been able to grasp the fact that some people just don't care. Most people just don't think that far ahead, and some just don't think at all. It's completely unique that I think about things as much as I do. It's completely normal that other people just don't really think about things.
It's like I try to be my own fucking psychologist. "Why do you feel that way, Dave? What do you think she'd say if she knew what you were thinking? Perhaps it's wise that you just be open and honest...tell her what she deserves to hear, and maybe things will go better than you think they might."
I call B.S.
Being honest and moral is so overrated. I have little to nothing to show for being as honest to people as possible without ever trying to cross that "too much honesty" fence. When someone demands to know what I'm thinking, I lack the sense to make something up. Sure, they'll say "well, it's better that you told me. I thank you for that, blah blah blah," but what they're really thinking is "Oh, for fucks sake. LIE TO ME, STUPID!" But I can't do it! No matter how much I think I should, no matter how much better it might be if I would just look someone in the eye and tell them half the truth, I just can't bring myself to be dishonest. I HATE feeling dishonest. I get lied to day in and day out, and I get over it, but ONE stretch of the truth that comes out of me, and I go fucking nuts.
I'm not trying to make myself out to be someone special. Hell no. In fact, I'd willingly be a spokesman for DISHONESTY if I could. Look at what telling the truth does to you! Every time I trust someone, they do me in...
I'm getting off topic, though. That's not what happened this time around...I tend to lump these cases together sometimes, and I guess that's not right. Just because the first three people that I truly cared about unremorsefully stabbed me in the back doesn't mean that the fourth did. No, she just didn't seem to care much about where I was coming from. For once, I take the time to explain why I'm acting all tight-lipped, trying to explain to her why I'm holding back, and she explodes in a ball of "holy shit, I had no idea that you had feelings!" Then, of course, I get the whole self-implimented guilt trip.
Aww, fuck. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm so easy to see through... When something is on my mind, people know it. It's just my fault for being so honest when someone asks me to tell them what it is that I'm thinking. I can't fucking stand how honest I am. Fuck my morals, forget how I feel. Nevermind my point of view...It was selfish of me to tell her that I hurt. I should have realized that there was something special was there... I should have guessed that my feelings would only get in the way of that yet again. Just like no ONE is perfect, noTHING is perfect - I should have known that, and i should have let imperfection work its' magic.
I like being a fuckup. I kind of enjoy the fact that I always say too little or too much. I relish my postion of always being the fall guy who can forgive anyone and everyone but himself. I just really HATE when I have to put up with the consequences of what I do because I know it's "right". Maybe I should just give up on doing what's "right". Maybe doing the wrong thing for the moderately acceptable reasons isn't so bad afterall...
Meh. No more spewing this trash.
This morning when I was writing this garbage instead of doing the productive things that I should have been doing, it was fucking monsooning outside...I can't remember the last time it had rained that hard. It was a really twisted way to slap a moviescript depression on the beginning of my day. But eventually, the clouds went from dark dreary black to a dirty misty grey, and I started to get over myself.
If my friends know me for one thing, it's my miraculous ability to just not care.
If my best friends know me for one thing, it's my miraculous ability to mask exactly how much I care.
I had feared for a while this morning that I might be losing touch with that superpower. I thought that it was possible that this might become something that I might not get over quite so easily.
But the truth is that I may already be over it. All it took was eight ink-riddled pages of venting and one good long sit. A few baseball games and a few sleepless nights, and this may become something that will dwell permenantly in the back of my brain - right there with the rest of the tales of broken hearts and foiled dreams.
Maybe it was all just a waste of time. A sick routine that I put myself through about once a year. Fall for a girl, watch it fall apart, learn nothing from it, move on....rinse and repeat. Maybe I'll just have to get used to it...maybe that's the solution. Next time I walk into something like this, I can just see it coming. If it happens again, at least I'll have expected it. Or maybe I can actually change my repeating destiny of failure.
"A waste of time" was a bad way to phrase it...I didn't mean that. We take our lumps in life and move on. This is just another painful chapter in the tragedy/comedy of my life. I thought about it a lot and I'm still not sure whether or not I consider this or any of my previous relationships to be "worth it", but at the same time I can't see myself not living them out. And I'm rambling completely off-topic. The handwriting was my expression, not this. This is just so I won't feel like I wasted my entire day when I throw out those pieces of paper later.
Blah blah blah. I do kinda feel like the last month and a half of my life have a little less meaning, though. I've got to admit that.
Oh well. Here's to tomarrow--
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| Oi. I'm an old man or some shit. |
[11 Jan 2005|07:58pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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drawing board |
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You Are 26 Years Old |
26
Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.
13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.
20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.
30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!
40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.
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| tahoe review + schizophrenia |
[10 Jan 2005|03:30pm] |
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Snow is pretty spiffy. And snowboarding is pretty cool. But rain and baseball are way more awesome.
That's the revelation that I had to have a near-death experience in order to discover. The near death experience can be counted as one of any of the three hundred times that I fell on my ass. Or possibly one of the fifty times that I landed on my face. Oh, I got better as I kept doing it, yes. But I also got less amused.
The weird thing, I thought, is that I learned that I will never consider it a real sport. Snowboarding is a hobby, no matter what anyone else says. Why? Well, there are a lot of reasons. The lack of competition is one. Given, I understand entirely that people compete, whether that be by races or judged trick thingies. I understand that it's entirely possible to compete while snowboarding and shit. But you know what? It's just as possible to compete while playing golf. And if you call golf a sport, I'll slap you.
The problem that I had with snowboarding is that it's about 90% image. The other 10% is somewhere in the realm of defiance of expectations and rebelliousness. That's cool, but meh. And don't get me wrong, when I played baseball, I made a point to have an awesome shirt under my uniform, badass cleats and high socks - not because they were comfortable, but because they looked cool. But when the game started, you forget that shit. When I was snowboarding, image continued to be all that mattered. Yes, I do include the unwillingness to make a total ass out of myself while twelve year olds look like pros as part of image, but there's also all that other crap. I was surprised how many people gave me shady looks...not because I sucked. Not because I laughed at them for being stuck up fucks. But because I was just wearing a hoodie and some non-brand name pants in the snow. "Ooooh! Look at that guy," I'd hear, "he's so not a boarder."
No shit.
When I first got into baseball, I sucked. Probably even more than I did at this on my first day. But there was a will to get better. Something made me say "Aw, shit." when I fucked up. And that same something made me want to get better, to do it right and to do it well the next time. I didn't get that feeling while I was snowboarding. When I hit a jump, flopped in the most awkward manner possible, bit it, and made the six or seven guys behind me go around me, I just laughed. There was no real sense of embarassment...no sense of "man, I should have done that better." I was just happy to be an inconvinience to the real snowboarders behind me. But once all that got boring, it was just a matter of wanting to get good enough to get down the hill as fast as possible so I could take a break from being watched by people who think they're godly because they know what they're doing. My grand aspirations of being a great snowboarder were brief, and appeared in my head only because I figured maybe then the super gorgeous snowboarding girls would stop snickering at me like i had egg all over my face.
Snow chicks are hot, but not that hot. Not $65 a day hot. Not $500 for a board that they won't laugh at hot. And certainly not 15 fucking degrees hot.
Actually, the cold wasn't all that bad. I didn't mind having to breathe warm air on my feet for fifteen minutes because I went outside without shoes on for ten seconds. I didn't mind my nose feeling like a rock of pure cold as snot-sicles grew from beneath it. I even kinda enjoyed not being able to spend any more than three minutes outside stargazing because it was colder than a fucking sunless crater on pluto. Not that there were any visible stars, anyway. Either karma or just plain old bad luck determined that it would be sunny all day and cloudy all night for the few days that I was up there. But hey, I didn't really want to see if the coolest things that I've heard about the places I've never been were true. Nah, fuck that. Who wants to get what they'd like? Certainly not I.
Meh. Anyway, I won't go so far as to say that snowbarding sucks, even though I'd like to. I'll just say that it's not as cool as actual cool things. I should really stop saying "cool"...it's making me cold just thinking about it.
But yeah. The rain still kicks ass, and the baseball season that I spent the last month or so prophecizing the dismal hopless shittiness of is looking more and more sweet as the days go by. I think I've enjoyed this winter more than most others...in terms of it being winter and not summer, at least. But it will...
Dude, holy shit. It's 2005. What the fuck? I say that every year, but this year (...like any other, I guess) seems especially weird to be...well...this year. 2004 is over, man. Where did it go? What did it mean? How much of it will I remember? crazy...
Even though we're already ten days into the new year, I'm gonna make a new year's resolution. Better late than never, I suppose:
I'm going to stop being so fucking pessimistic.
(Heh...yeah right...never gonna happen...)
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| mer |
[02 Jan 2005|10:17pm] |
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el pico |
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skipping work a couple days this week to go snowboarding. i think. at first it was like "yeah, dude, its me, you, ruben, cookie..." then it was like "yeah, ruben is a lock, youre coming right?" then "yeah, it might just be me you and patricia" and last i heard it was "yeah, she might not come"
so eh. all i know is that its going to be cold, and im going to be broke.
speaking of cold...its winter, and im digging it. i dont think ive ever appreciated winter like i have this year. it's been raining like non-stop for the past couple days, and i think its just the awesomest thing to happen in a long while. cant help but stare out the window or just sit upstairs and listen to it. rain is awesome...
i wonder what the cost of living is in seattle. would be nifty to live somewhere where it rained all the time. not depressing at all.
 | You scored as Indie. Indie.
Indie | | 83% | Indie Rock | | 79% | Emo & More | | 67% | Ska | | 46% | Punk and Pop Punk. | | 46% | Industrial | | 38% | Classic Rock. | | 38% | Hip Hop and Rap | | 29% | Hardcore | | 29% | Mainstream | | 21% | Country | | 8% | Britpop | | 8% | </td>
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i hate the flaming lips...
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| what...the fuck |
[20 Dec 2004|08:52am] |
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mood |
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what a shitty time to be a bay area sports fan, eh?
dont know what the fuck beane is thinking...but it hurts...
those 2 abnoxiously confusing trades hurt more than the entire 49ers season. more than a lot of things, even...
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emoloserkid's journal