Wednesday, September 29, 2004

 

I figured I would continue a bit from the previous story. There is probably a good story in there somewhere. Perhaps I will elaborate on it later. Enjoy.


I sat there drinking my beer waiting for her to start. She had picked up her guitar and started to strum it just a little like a forgotten lover. As she was reacquainting herself with the guitar I noticed some other people had joined her on stage. Another guitar and a violin. In the back a drummer had setup a simple 3 piece. With her head tilted down she mumbled into the microphone. It was unintelligible gibberish or so it seemed. As she slowly increased her volume the violin picked up and a cello that I had not seen before they started playing. A slow melody picked up and her words slowly became understandable. Her voice still filled with pain that I heard before but now stronger. She did not waver one note as she sang to me and everyone else her song.

“By the wall lives the tears….. In the corner remains my fears”
“Lonely nights alone slowly adding to the figure…. A monster slowly getting bigger”

The tempo picked up on the guitar and the drummer pounding with intensity. It slowly grew like the monster in her song into a louder and quicker beat. She let this continue for a few moments while she appeared to struggle with the next few lines. It was then when she looked in my direction full of sadness I pondered if I should ask her to stop before she broke down.

“I know why you left that day.. You felt there was no other way”
“Left me alone to face my hell.. One that you created so well”

She let herself carry the word well for a few seconds as if letting it sink into everyone’s mind deeply before she spoke again. The drummer picked up the beat and everyone except the cello and violin played with a bit more passion as she started her chorus.

“I smiled when you walked out the door”
“And jumped for glee.. Now that your gone”
“I wait by the door for you to return”
“To me..”

I do not remember the rest of the song. It was that point I had to leave. My friend came up to me. She was obviously wasted as she grasped onto me for support. I looked back up at the stage and she glared at me from her spot. I guess it was fitting as now the song had picked up. Her anger was spewed out across musical notes that carried forth and dug their way into my heart. I slowly walked my friend out of the club missing the rest of the song but not forgetting the moment I had with her. I have betrayed her as I told her I would listen but I did not. I left before she was finished. I doubt she will ever forget and will probably hold it against me for years to come.
I do know though that she will use that anger against me and write some songs. Perhaps her hate will fuel her to new heights. That I do not know. All future possibilities ruined by my drunken friend.

Oh well c'est la vie.

Monday, September 27, 2004

 

Why do I waste time seeking approval? Why do I so easily get angry with myself? Simple actions that I do sometimes go against the goal I am looking towards. I seek to improve myself a little and try to developed a habit that works in that direction. My latest attempt is to gain some independence from others. I always need someone to come along as if they are confirming wherever I am going is a good choice. Things like not wanting to go to a movie alone or going out to dinner alone. I have grown used to the herd mentality that it has become ingrained in my psyche. I have been trying to change that of late. Little things like doing to dinner alone. Going out to movies and random other events without other people. Little things like that. So this weekend when the test came up I did not put it in practice. I choose to stay and simply got angry with myself. It was easy to tell and I imagine I gave the wrong impression to others. Perhaps they thought I was angry at someone else but mostly it was just me. As usual I take out my anger on myself and on my car. Any other physical objects in the area sometimes I will do. I don’t seek to break just things like pressing too hard on the gas so my tires squeal. Tapping a brick wall with my fist. Little things like that which do not really damage the object. However it gives me a small amount of pain as punishment. I question if that is where I want to go with my attempts at becoming a better person but am not sure. It doesn’t really work but it does remind me a little of the error I did. The wrong path that I have chosen. So either way I got mad at myself and people thought I was angry at something else. Sometimes I believe I am so transparent people see what I am hiding. Other times they think they are seeing through my deception but do not realize that at times the Lie’s are full of truth just presented differently. What is self truth? It is what I tell myself and work towards? Is it the questions that I answer and I know to be true? But the truth changes over time. If I say the sky is clear the statement does not hold for very long. If I say I am doing fine things change. People change. Is the truth or ones self-truth just the level of delusion that have convinced themselves to be true? How deep can I look into my own soul and how many lies will I find? Will some of the lies that were complete falsehoods be based off some truth now? Could I change so much that the lie would become the truth? Circular logic emerges and suddenly I see the spiral, the circles, and the various loops that intertwine each other. I know at this time that the truth is I do not wish to be part of the herd mentality. I wish to be my own person. I wish to achieve a point where I do not seek approval for my place of dining from others. I wish to go somewhere and do it because I wish to. I wish to establish enough self confidence so I may say Hey I am going to do this if you do not wish to then sorry see you when I am done. Though I could just lie to myself and keep up a delusion until it becomes true. Create my own reality to exist in and stay in it until reality catches up to my fantasy. How much of what I have just written to be true?

To quote, ‘Supposing truth to be a woman - What? Is the suspicion no well founded that philosophers, when they have been dogmatists, have little understanding of women.’

I understand truth about as much as I understand women. Both change over time also so the longer I spend studying and trying to decide the more I will be wrong when I finally reach a conclusion.

Such is my logic.

Friday, September 24, 2004

 

Lyrics to Doll Parts by Hole used without thier permission. I could replace with something else but it is what I was listening to when I was writing this. (EDIT) I replaced the Doll Parts lyrics with something different. It is not as good but it is not copied from someone else at least.(/edit)


It was another one of those cold nights. Not freezing cold but still cold enough to suck the heat from your body and leave you shivering. I was standing outside of a small bar enjoying a cigarette with a friend. Random topics being discussed but nothing was the main course. She was looking at random girls that passed by and would often nudge me in my side and nod in their direction. It was fun sometimes hanging with her but the friendship would leave me wanting more. The closeness, the understanding, and the comity gave so much but still it made that which was not there stick out. A few drinks in the both of us and she was a bit tipsy. Knowing that standing in the cold while drinking would not do us any good. I finished my cigarette and rushed her back inside. The musky smell and fog rolled out of the door when it was opened. It enveloped us and tried to choke us. Test our mettle before it allows us entrance into the dark tunnel. Boldly as hero’s would enter a dragon’s lair we entered showing our arms for marks of entrance already given. Stamps on the hands to show we already paid and scars on our arm showing we are still paying. We headed deeper into the bar walking by people playing various games and the roar of noise as many people talk about different things at different volumes mixed together and sounding like a roaring waterfall. Deeper into the lair we go hoping to find some treasure. In the back a guitar strummed alone. It was plugged into an amp and reverberated through the building. It was then I heard her voice…

‘I want to be the one that he calls at night..’

A pained voice straining against a throat that was torn asunder previously by screaming and sorrowful sobs that wracked her whole body.

‘I want him to understand'
'what I mean by unconditional '
'that I am not a prisoner by it and I am still rational'

So much emotion placed forth put on show for everyone standing there. As I head deeper into the lair I saw the stage and her standing there.

‘I have admitted, I am committed’

Her blond hair mussed up and falling over her face. Mascara dripping from her face as her sweat and tears create a river that carved a trail into her face and down her chin. I looked into her eyes and followed the multicolored line down to her chin and watched her lips tremble.

‘Yeah I want you to know… I want you to know.. to know.....‘

The words she spoke turned into sounds that did not make any sense anymore. I stood there captivated by her performance oblivious to the world around me. Occasionally a little bit would pierce the illusion and enter my mind. A little bit of the song here and there would make sense.

'I want him to understand what I mean by unconditional.....that I am not a prisoner by it and I am still rational'

As she repeated the chorus several more times she finally stopped and walked off the stage without a bow or anything. Multicolored droplets of tears sprinkled in the air behind her as she quickly left. It was that cue that woke me up from my trance and I decided I must say hi to that person. I pushed my way through the crowd to the back entrance. It lead out into the alleyway where performers and other people would smoke and chat in-between sessions. The instant I stepped outside the haze from inside the building released it’s grip on me and I saw her leaning against a pole with a slightly bent cigarette hanging from her lips. It would have been lit but she was still crying and the tears ran down the length and created a puddle at the tip soaking the paper and tobacco thoroughly. I went up to her like a zoo keeper carefully approaching a tiger. I reached in my coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette and offered it to her. Poking a bit of the butt into her field of vision but not forcefully. Giving her the chance to gather herself together before she confronted this strange new smoking product. Her lips opened a bit and released their hold on the soggy thing in her mouth and she looked up at me. Her eyes full of anger at my interruption of her moment.

‘Good song up there you want a smoke?’ At times simplicity is best and I did not want her to know how long I have been watching her here outside.

‘There a catch?’ She was instantly on the defensive. This poor girl what could have created such a automated response?

‘No catch unless you want a beer. Then I require to hear you play another song.’

‘What makes you think I would play for simply a beer?’

‘Because I like to listen and you appear to need both a beer and someone who will listen.’

‘fuck off’ She took the cigarette and walked down the alleyway a bit. A small flash of light as she lit the cigarette and the trail of smoke leading from her hand into the sky.

I took my cue and wandered back inside to see if my friend had gotten a drink yet. As I got towards the bar I saw her holed up in a corner with a guy and a girl looking quite happy. So I took a seat at the empty end of the bar far away from the stage. After ordering a beer and drinking about half of it I saw her walk up to the stage again. When she got up there she leaned forward to a waitress who went back to the bar and got a beer. When the waitress came back to her she picked up the beer and pointed in my direction. The waitress nodded and I nodded back. She took a deep swig of the glass and set it down on the stage. She picked up her guitar, plugged in the amp, and started playing. I sat back at the bar paid for the beer and listened.

Its going to be a good night.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

 

One of the things that I have to come to terms with soon will be my reliance on other people. When I was younger I assumed the simple fact that there was someone out there in the world for me. Someone who I could share my life with and spend time with. Both a friend and an opponent who would engage both my mind and senses. Someone who I could trust with my inner thoughts and they would also confide in me. Someone who would call and say hello for no other reason than the simple fact my name passed through their mind. One who would also not get upset if I called them because my chain of logic came across their name also. I always thought I would find that person or they would find me and things would be different. Someone to save me from a path of darkness or something really outrageous like that. Instead the years pass by with bitter disappointments that occur too often with an alarming frequency. I rushed headlong into my search for a partner and I have found many that were not even close. Many that were better than nothing but in the end left me wishing I still had nothing instead of bitter memories. Close calls with others and possibilities that never materialized. Plans that were made and trips taken and in the end a heart broken over and over again. A few years ago I decided that I needed time to recover and forced myself into a holding pattern. No longer was I going to take outrageous trips and bend over backwards for someone I barely knew. The defense were reinforced and added onto. Hiding inside a tower and surrounded by walls that were so high. I have been in this holding pattern for so long I ponder if I will ever get out of it. I look at my actions and try to change them but it comes back down to my habits I developed when I was younger. Since I thought there was someone out there for me it grew into a habit to always go somewhere with someone. To call someone up and ask if they were up to anything. To not take the initiative and follow along with the crowd. Simple things like going to the movies were difficult if I did not have someone to go with. I see my flaw with that and have been trying to change and yet it is still quite difficult. I find myself wanting to call someone else, anyone else hoping to find someone else to come along with me so I do not go alone. I attempt to complete a circle the antisocial person I knew when I was younger that grew into someone who needed people. Now I am seeking to break away from that. Hoping to achieve a balance in it. I don’t know if I will ever achieve a balance though the thought of things going in waves. Having one year of being completely antisocial and a few transition years then a year of relying on others and then repeating the cycle does not sound all that bad. Life could be described in waves. I am on the falling edge of a wave and soon it will pick up and carry me to the crest of another. During this wave I intend to set a course and start heading in that direction. To find a major goal and work to achieve it. First things first I will start with smaller goals and work my way towards the larger reward. In writing this I have achieved a smaller goal. In telling others I have started working on another small goal. In keeping it somewhat hidden by the knowledge that few people will read this it will achieve yet another task.

In all this I must not lose sight of the prize.



Now if only I can figure out what it is.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

 

I keep having this dream. I keep pondering what it means but come up with nothing each times. I never liked applying logic to my thoughts. I don’t think I follow a logical progression. So I hope that with writing this out I can perhaps approach it from a different angle. Perhaps it will help me understand. If it does not perhaps if the dream occurs people will see or understand what happened. I think it is a dream about my death. I always figured it would happen this way just there is more than simply dieing. How can there be more than death? How can one find more in the act of dying? I have considered the idea of death something I would avoid thinking about. The trail of logic that normally follows any thoughts of death goes to how it happened. Since this is a dream and it is something I cannot control then I will allow myself to ponder it more in depth. I just have to keep reminding myself it is a dream and nothing more. Or is it….

So I am sitting in a car that is moving along a highway. I think it is Highway 14 in Colorado. The plains to both sides of me would indicated that though it is hard to tell because it is dark. My headlights shine out in front of me a good distance and I have my fog lights on instead of bright’s because it is a bit foggy. I don’t look downward at all but I can feel the car responding when I press the gas and am looking straight out struggling to keep away and watching for any wildlife on the road. The glow of the console lights are a reddish tinge which would indicated a Pontiac car. The sound of the engine reverberating through the cabin would say a V6 or a V8. It has a almost throaty gurgle. There is no music playing in the background for some reason I do not care preferring to drive in silence listening to my car. I continue traveling in the same direction maintaining a constant speed of which I do not know. I would like to say I am angry or at least tense. Something gives me the idea my mood is serious. I don’t know if it is the clenched right hand on the lower part of the steering wheel or the feeling my jaw is clenched. I do not know if I am looking into the future or into the past I am just driving along this highway heading to my destination. There is a large turn that comes up which makes me ponder it is Highway 14 along with the fact that it only has one lane in each direction. I come up to the turn slowly turning and a truck is coming towards me in its lane. Its bright lights lighting up the fog around making my eyes hurt for a second as they adjust to it. As the truck passes by I look away from the lights but their brightness made everything else darker. Up on the road I see a small form looks like a deer looking back at me. The truck is gone and I hit my brakes and try to steer around it. I slide off to the right and into the ditch still moving pretty fast. The car hit’s the ground with the front end stopping it but the rear still has some momentum behind it and the car flips over. If is at that point I struggle to pull myself bleeding from the wreck clutching my wireless phone onto the shoulder of the road. I flip open the phone and as I sit there struggling to breath I call someone instead of the emergency services. I have had the dream 4 times and each time I call a different friend.

It is at that point I wake up pondering why did I call that person. Is there something weighing on my mind that I must get out? What could I honestly want to say? I ponder if it is a dream about possibilities and not taking the chances I should take or what risks I take each time I drive. Perhaps it is a warning to myself to try to get as much each day as possible. To say those things I hold inside rather than hold them in. To take the first step and find out how I stand or what the future with another person could hold. Perhaps it is myself telling me that a holding pattern is no longer desired. Does a part of me want action or does a part of me want to warn me of the recklessness of my current path. I know I am going to die in a car crash. I know I will die alone and it never really bothered me before. Now I wonder if it is starting to bother me but I deny it. Why can’t I understand this vivid picture that was painted for me?

Friday, September 17, 2004

 

Its late and have been a good but long night. I should not even be up right now but I figured I would try and at least put forth 500 words or something. So I will take something written and sent to me a long time ago from a friend and go off that.

So many walls
built so high
buried in sorrow
and obscurity
blurring reality
my haven is darkness
my companions loneliness
and despair.
In the blink of an eye
innocence lost
trust broken
love shattered.
I am alone
in a world of my own
not trusting even myself
not opening to the outside
swallowed in my own
pain and misery
drowning in my own
sorrow and self pity
unwilling to grab
the hand offered to me
afraid of myself
more than him,
scared of feeling
again


I looked back at the computer screen. The words echoing in my head like they came from her directly. The tone and pitch matched beautifully. The sudden realization that I had been missing something came upon me. Things just magically fell into place as I pondered how to respond. She was sitting there in the chat-room waiting for me to say something, anything. I clicked over into the chat room to find out more about my friend.

‘Wow I can’t really say much more than wow.’ I typed both to respond and show how much it amazed me and to buy me more time to think where this will go.

‘I hoped you would like it. When my net was down last night I wrote it.’

‘It is good. Truly amazing. Though it carries a small undertone.. Who did you write it for?’ I knew the answer before I asked the question but I had to make sure.

‘You. As you should already realize I wrote it for you.’

‘I am honored but I ……wa… I ….am speechless’

‘Sorry to bring it up like this all the sudden it is just the last few months of talking on the phone and here have helped me more than many other things. Since the incident with my ex breaking into my house I have been scared but you have helped me get over that.’

‘Speaking of which when is court for your ex?’

‘It was to be next week but he made bail somehow and skipped a pretrial thing. I bet he probably ran home to mommy in Cali.’

‘Are you sure? I worry and suddenly the doors that have opened make me worry more.’

‘What doors have opened?’

‘I forgot to tell you earlier but I was accepted to U of OK. I could be there in a few months and I would need someone that knew the area to get to know things and um…’

‘OMG why didn’t you tell me earlier this is great news.’


‘I did not want to get your hopes up and I also did not know how you would feel about such a thing so I waited… It would be fun we could do lunch between my classes perhaps hangout and play Magic.’

‘That would be really fun. Hmm.. It is getting a bit cold hang on a sec I am going to turn up the heat or close a window or something… brb’

‘Ok’

5 minutes passed as I busied myself with surfing the internet. Searching out strategy articles on the game and rumors of new expansion sets. Soon the 6th minute stretched into 7th and 8th. Before I knew it 12 minutes had passed by and no word.

‘Hey you back yet? What did you do decide to build a fire? From scratch? : - ) ‘

I looked away to my other monitor skimming through a play list to choose a different song. Perhaps something a bit more upbeat and happy. I glanced back at the computer screen and saw a weird message.

-- KittyKatt has left the Chat room --

I wonder if she did not realize it was so late? Perhaps she decided to go to bed. I glanced at my clock and saw the late hour being almost 5am. She was a hour ahead of me so she probably crashed. Who cares we will have plenty of time to hangout and chat when I go to college. I logged off some programs and reduced my computer to nothing more than music playing and headed to my bed. I laid down and closed my eyes with dreams of happiness and sharing life with someone filling my head.

Little did I know at the time that it was to be the last time I would ever talk to her again.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

 

‘HEY!’

The loud guitars strummed in the background followed by a quick beat from the drummer. A young lady that looked familiar walks up to the mike with a guitar strapped across her chest. A oversized T-shirt that said, ‘Guys Suck’ staring back out to the crowd. Everyone standing there looking up to the stage pondering if she was going to follow up. The tempo of the music increased and she stood there motionless looking down at the floor. Her hair short but still long enough to cover up her face kept her from view. The dyed blonde staring at the floor while the music continued on without her.

‘Yeah! Did you miss me?’

The figure on the stage became animated as she started to caress the microphone and pull it close to her like it was her lover. Then with a burst of energy she would throw it away from her and grab her guitar hung low near her crotch. She would rip threw some chords playing the object like she was playing herself. Pulling her emotions and passion from this inanimate object. She would stop with a nod and a glance at the other guitar player and grab the microphone again to continue caressing it with her voice and hands.

‘You look at me from far back … with a question mark in your eyes… As if you want to know the answer to a question long since given…’

She stares out into the crowd when she repeats this line as if she is searching for the person in the song. I remember her looking right into my eyes and she stopped for a moment. The music skipped but the drummer being professional about it caught on quickly and repeated a sequence again to buy her time to catch her moment. She blinked and threw the microphone away to grab her guitar and tear a whole in the fabric of reality with her rage played out with a guitar.

‘You never got it then …. N you’ll never get it now .. so give up and go away…..’

A quick few chords as she pulls her microphone close and looks at me straight into my eyes.

‘You think your the one for me? But know that I belong to someone else and she is a jealous one…’

She throws the stand away and leans back dragging her nails across the strings making it give a slow and sharp yell that is met with her own scream of ecstasy. The guitar wail lasts longer than she does as she collapses onto her knees and slowly opens her eyes looking right again at me. It was then I realized why things with her never worked out. She loved her music and it filled up so much of her life she did not have room for me. Those nights I spent alone wondering where she was I now knew. The times she left the date early I know understood. She loved her music and I loved her. Unfortunately it appears her mistress is a jealous one that did not allow room for another.


Tuesday, September 14, 2004

 

I’ve been through this before. I know what is happening. With the early warning signs I can see it coming and I know I have time to prepare. What shall I do? What can you do to prepare yourself for your mind going insane? The delusions and figments that it conjures to create a new reality for you to exist in? I try to anchor myself using tape and a nail but that only gives me a moments reprieve. Blood dripping on the floor as I hurry over to my bookshelf and reach for something anything. Introduction to Nuclear Physics? I thought I boxed that up. Why is it sitting on my shelf. This will only force me to think abstract thoughts as the atom is not something I can grasp and use. My mind slowly wanders and a restaurant is created with tables and chairs. A bar in the corner attended by a young man wearing a cheap suit trying to look professional while he knows nothing of what he is doing. Have to distract myself away from this fantasy. No matter how delightful it looks I need to focus on reality. Greek cookbook.. Yes that should work as I reach for it and start flipping through the pages. Pictures of things that I can only think about and not do at the moment do not deter the visions. Suddenly a woman long since out of her prime starts singing a soft song in a corner accompanied by a old man with a saxophone. The lights are dimming and people start filling the seats until it is standing room only. I have to fight through the crowd to gain a small chair and a spot in the corner. I can’t believe the words spoken earlier by a friend effected me such. A simple statement now blown out of proportion. Delusions of grandeur as I slowly start creating a reality that my heart wishes to live in. She is setting on the chair looking up into my eyes. I am looking down upon her and do not wish to be in that position so I lean against the wall using her chair as a weight to stop my feet from sliding on the floor. We now look at each other at eye level. Out of the corner of my eye I see the smoke in the room filling up slowly. The seedy urban environment has been created both visually and audibly. That stage has been set and I forgot my lines. My old computer meeting with my foot as I did not see it sitting there on the floor. The poor thing has served me faithfully for many years and I carelessly set it aside when something quicker came out. It was not sitting there waiting for me to start it up again. Devoid of a hard drive or CDROM drive. It still had it’s old CPU that I had over-clocked to make it go faster. I bent down to pick it up and brought it to eye level to look inside.
‘The problem with Elvis is he just doesn’t really appeal to the intelligent side of folks. But the classics appeal to everyone.’
‘Have you listened to him at all or are you basing your judgment off of what you have heard and read?’
‘Little of both I do not have the desire to listen to such drivel.’
‘There is a concert in the city in a few weeks come with me and listen. Come with me and try it out perhaps you may like it.’
‘Where is it playing at?’
‘The Templeton. Down off Boardwalk.’
‘That’s owned by the Khrett’s how can you stand supporting them?’
‘I don’t like it but I want to see him. I don’t have a choice if I don’t see him when he is there.’
‘I think I will go is anyone else coming along?’
She looked away for a second while she mulled that over and took a sip of her coffee. I know she was just buying more time was there an ulterior motive behind all of this? The fan wasn’t working. I had plugged in everything and tried to start it up but the CPU fan did not wish to blow. It didn’t even suck it just did not work. I reach in to make sure the connection was tight and a sharp edge of the computer case grazes my skin. Leaving a red line an inch big across my arm. The pain allows me to focus on the task at hand but the slow buildup of blood threaten to drop off onto the motherboard. I pull my arm back carefully and walk off to get something to soak up the blood. This leaves me with nothing to do while I sit and wait for it to clot up. She looks me straight in the eyes as if she is unaware of the moments that have passed us by. The thousand heartbeats, the hopes, and the dreams that were created and crushed while I waited.
‘I haven’t asked anyone else yet.’
‘Somehow among our group of friends I don’t think anyone else would come along.’
‘I want to see the show.’
‘I shall go with you then and better make a decision on him then.’ Also I wish to spend more time with you to determine if there can be anything more than this friendship. I stare into your eyes and ponder if you are questioning the same thing or is my internal conflict completely invisible to you. Can you see the moments that pass where I look at your eyes and the question on my face that reflects my heart? Can’t you see the structure of pride blocking me from pursuing this further without more inference? More idle chatter as we discuss music and other random things. We could sit and talk all night and nothing would really get said. The blood stopped flowing and I am now able to correct the fan. The plug was not in correctly. I put it in and start up the computer and it gives me a nice gentle hum. The monitor lights up as it reports a general diagnostic informing me it was angry it took so long to use it again. Millions of clock cycles that occur while it sat there doing nothing except keeping the time. The same is reflected inside me while my heart beats between breathes as I try to inhale the moment the need to live in this moment and ignore anything else. Knowing that in a few minutes it will be gone and my reality will shatter. The delusion will fade and the steps I took to prepare for this to prevent this will come crashing down as I realize my failure. I still got caught up in it despite all my protections and attempts to dissuade my heart and mind from pursuing this path. I failed and I am left with the same feeling of emptiness that always occurs. The feeling increases to an unbearable amount as I realize I am nothing more than a friend and I will never be anything more. The only break in the emptiness is the moment of pain from the cut in my arm as reality calls me back.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

 

If you don’t like something change it. I have tried to make that my motto for the past few weeks. Letting it apply into my life as many ways as possible. I did not like how the kitchen in my house looked so decided if I did not like I would change. So I started randomly cleaning in the kitchen. Then I carried it a bit further and started a bit in my bathroom. I tried letting it apply to other parts of my life. I did not like being so far behind in bills so sold parts of my main computer to my little brother to gain a bit more cash. Little did I know when I went to visit he did not have the money available. How can one person burn through 1100$ in a week. I actually could understand that as I have seen my bank account dwindle from a nice amount into the negatives with ease. Perhaps that should be my tag line. I am a superhero of spending.. Faster than a group of rich ladies. More powerful than a all day sale at Mervins. Able to bankrupt middle class families in a single shopping trip. Its Debt Man. Little things I change like I did not like where the trash container was placed outside. I did not wish it to get stolen so I moved it into the backyard. One of my roommates did not agree with that so I did it and didn’t say anything more of it. So far no complaints because he never takes out the trash. I hid some dishes in the kitchen because cleaning them would be a pain also had someone remove the knives that were not dishwasher safe because I did not feel like washing them separate and we have enough knives. I did not wish to spend money on a lawnmower so I made arrangements with a friend to mow his lawn and to borrow the mower. It allows me to do something productive also I am hoping it will grow into a habit of taking the initiative. I remember when I was younger I used to think I could modify my personality and habits with ease. I never really had to do any major modifications. One of the main things I did or I thought I did was make myself more social and remove the antisocial part. Somehow I do not think that was mostly my doing. It was a number of factors and a few friends that got me hooked on the going out and hanging out somewhere. Perhaps with time I will be able to comfortably go to the movies by myself. I am trying to change myself because I do not like who I am. I am trying to change for myself but to what purpose? I keep pondering if I am doing this for someone else. To improve how I am viewed in that person’s eyes so they will find me more likable. I can conjure in my mind several people that I could see myself doing this for but I keep denying it is that. What is life without self delusion? A old movie asked that. Who is afraid of Virginia Wolff? Also a movie said that self improvement is masturbation but self destruction was key. So many questions and so few answers. Some answers I do not like so I think I will try to change them.


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Exercise in reality shaping.


A moonlit night sitting sipping a cold drink with someone playing a guitar in the background. This moment has been anticipated for me for a while. The culmination of several nights of planning and thought. The last night that I will enjoy her company. I have planned for many contingencies and thought about the various endings that could occur. How will it go down in the end?
‘Thanks for coming. I’ve always enjoyed the atmosphere of this place.’
‘No problem been so busy for the past week it is good to sit and talk.’
‘When does your new job start?’
‘In two weeks and I am so excited. Will finally be gone from that place.’
‘My how the time has passed. What are your plans for the next two weeks?’
‘Working there as little as possible.’
‘You going to do one of those big goodbye emails?’
‘Na.. The few people who I know will already know.’
‘oh’ I remember staring into my cup of fruity mush.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘No.’
‘………’
‘Ok there is something wrong.’
‘What is it? Do you wish you were leaving the place also?’
‘Somewhat but for different reasons.’
‘Why don’t you go apply elsewhere?’
‘um.. Ug… There’s other reasons.’
‘Such as…..?’
‘You.’
‘…’ The shocked look on her face as she looked back into my eyes.
‘If there was anything at all that I could say to keep you close I would have said it but over the past few weeks I have not found anything to say.’
‘What…’
‘No let me finish I should have said this a long time ago. Over the past few years I have grown to value your friendship greatly. When so many of my other friends and coworkers have let me down or betrayed me you have always been there to talk to. The many nights of speaking and the random hello have meant a lot to me. The movies and the various little luncheons we did together were the thousands of moments that fill my heart and mind. You appeal to me on so many different levels with your witty thoughts and intelligent conversation and views. I know I am not your equal but the thought of you leaving and not hearing from you is a difficult thought. In the past when you took your little 2 week vacations I held onto the hope that you were coming back and we could chat some more. This time you would have some stories or tale from another place outside of my reality. I know that you did not wish to make the place your reality and you appear to resent the people you work with there but I wish your future would include me as a friend or as something more. The more I think about it the more I realize that this goodbye will be permanent and I will not see you again. That does not set well on my heart. I never like loosing friends and I try hard to keep them as long as possible. I have no option though in this case. I wish you could stay or at least that you would understand what I said. I kept hoping I could see a glimpse of something in your eye that would tell me you felt as strong about this friendship but I have not seen it. If I am just a coworker or a random person in your life then I am sorry to burden you with this but I want you to know that your friendship has meant a great deal to me and I would do anything to keep it as such or to maintain it over a distance. However I cannot do such a thing alone and I need to know if you feel the same or if you do not. I do not wish to maintain a friendship over any distance one-sided. Oh well I’m sorry I will be quiet now..’
I remember the shocked look in her eye and it slowly softening into compassion then suddenly she stood up and walked away. I did not bother getting up or trying to keep her I just hope that she returns or gives me an answer.

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