8 months since I created this blog in an attempt to record my life in posting styles again, as I did when I was 15. Seems my desire to write, and my initiative to perform the writing, are lacking in coordination.
I spend too much time thinking, versus the time I could be doing. All my lackluster probably derives from my history of mistakes, following up my risk taking past. Often times, I wonder where I'd be today if I was as nonchalant as I was back then. My connection to others is minuscule these days, and I have no certainty on whether it's because I'm distant to others, or if it's because others are less connected than those I was connected to before.
There are so many young, up and coming individuals today, with great talent and potential that pushes them further into my sights than others. And I desire to offer them words of wisdom from my archives of thought and experience. I believe though, that more of them are afraid of being alone with me in conversation, than they are willing to take in words of advice. Maybe it's independence, or a sensation of fear that I feel I instill in everyone I meet.
My initial diagnosis of encounters with new people, is that they find me creepy or frightening. And at times, both. Over time, and for each individual a different amount of time, the diagnosis becomes: that I am sweet and kind and a great friend. I'm using the words of others who have told me such things, for both evaluations of myself.
Perhaps I'm rambling on an idea that is merely my own perception, without any true insight from others. My instinct tells me though, that while many tell me face to face, or through textual words that I'm sweet, many others say other things while I'm nowhere in sight. But I'm still, for the most part, a stoic inside. While generations change and grow and have a different idea of what's comfortable in today's age, I remain unchanged in ideals and expectations. It's my ancient idealism that leaves me alone these days. While I may be granted participation in the company of some, part of me feels that it is only to not "hurt my feelings". And despite such shows of welcome, my pride hurts more that things must be kept from me at all, rather than told to me frankly.
C'est la vie, no? A creepy man who continues to grow older, spending any time with today's blooming generation is, with high certainty, unappealing in any perspective except my own. I may be one of the very few who still fully believe in the idea that "Age is but a number."
I just wish that some of them would take a leap of faith and get to understand what lies behind these broken eyes.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Omens and Trials
Today has been interesting. I woke up this morning, late, after an eventful weekend with family and friends at different events. Nothing I did over the entire weekend, had any relevance to what I woke up to this morning though. A dream, only briefly involving my best childhood friend.
Sonja. Where are you? Are you alright? Are you well? Still going to school like you last texted me you were doing? Are you with Samantha still? How about your parents? Are you alive?
My dream was nice to me because I was seeing my childhood friend for the first time in over 5 years. Even though it was a dream, it meant a great deal to me. In the dream, I was having her spend the night at my place, no if's, and's or but's. I wanted to catch up and to try and engulf myself in a grand time with my first girl next door, best friend. She'd been my neighbor and my close friend since Middle School. Or maybe even the latter half of 5th grade. In my dream, I not only was so excited to have her stay the night over. I kissed her on the lips because I was so excited.
I've only kissed her on the cheek, once, during a game of spin the bottle. We were never intimately close. We were just best friends, always supporting one another, coming over at random hours, laughing and living as kids growing up to teenagers, do. I'm not going to splurge the entire history of everything between us because that's not the point I'm getting at or thinking about. I'm thinking about this uncalled for, unexpected, unbelievable teaser of a dream. Showing her to me, as if it was the present, as if I could see how she'd changed, and before we could even get to sitting down and talking, ripping her away from me again.
In my dream, she didn't look very good at all. Not good in the way she looked the last time I saw her anyway. She smoked, a long time growing up. But the last I saw her, she still showed zero signs of ailment from smoking or from her lifestyles. She looked normal. Blonde hair, blue eyes, short, peach skinned; a golfer, a lesbian, an ex-punk, and more. But in my dream, she looked like she'd been on some heavy drugs at some point in the years I missed her. She looked like she had some pretty bad symptoms, shown in the distinct veins in her cheek and the scars on the side of her neck. She looked like she'd been clean for a whole year all the way through til me seeing her in my dream. Like she'd gone to rehab and was clean and was promising on her life to stay clean after whatever had happened. She looked like she wasn't in school anymore. Not a graduate; just... working and making end's meet each day, but clean from the bad influences.
Whatever she looked like though, to me, I was just happy to see her again. That's why I insisted that she was staying the night and we were going to catch up. That's why I kissed her in my dream. That's why I woke up, rushed, disillusioned and sad as I headed off to work, late.
This was only the morning...
-----
This afternoon hit me with something new. If it had been a little different, I wouldn't be worrying so much and I'd just be careful to monitor the activities of my mother differently.
My mom has Pneumonia. "The doctor said I have Pneumonia, and that it's highly contagious." She told me in a phone call as she headed on her way home this afternoon. Pneumonia. It's dangerous. I don't know how bad she really is because I haven't seen her since yesterday morning, the day of July 4th. She couldn't join the whole family in celebrating because she felt awful. And now we know why.
She's supposed to just rest a lot and drink fluids and avoid contact with others for the next few days. Days. No work, no restlessness. Just sleep and drink and eat and rest more. Stop moving back and forth between the living room and the kitchen and the bedroom and back. Stop driving around. STOP. She won't listen of course. It's in her personality to keep moving, feeling that she knows everything about health and how to handle it. Pneumonia. People die from this. I'm afraid for her life... She's going to stress herself into an early deathbed... And I don't know how I'll react or what I'll do. Especially if she had the ability to keep it from happening, but disobeyed on her own accord. STOP DOING OTHER THINGS AND REST.
Rest and get better. Get better and then you can work again. But the first step is to stop stressing your body and your mind out. STOP IT. Rest please. And feel better. Get well.
Damn it... damn it, damnitdamnitmdamntidamnti.....itiitititititdamnit...
I don't give a shit about some Casey Anthony trial. There's shit happening all around the world. People lying all the time. I don't care that I have to work very carefully all this week because the 4th of July weekend backed everything up. I don't give a fucking two cents that I could be eating food that may or may not be holding contagious aspects of the sickness.
I care that my best friend growing up, showed up in unexpected conditions, in my dream no less, and was ripped from me. I care that my mom could potentially end up hospitalized.. or worse... Especially if she won't listen to everyone who's medically trying to help her. Stop thinking about if the food tastes good or bad. Stop thinking about everyone being unable to see you this week. Stop thinking about me. THINK ABOUT YOURSELF AND GET WELL IF YOU WANT EVERYONE ELSE TO FEEL BETTER TOO. FOCUS ON YOURSELF. Please. For the love of all gods. Please.
Sonja. Where are you? Are you alright? Are you well? Still going to school like you last texted me you were doing? Are you with Samantha still? How about your parents? Are you alive?
My dream was nice to me because I was seeing my childhood friend for the first time in over 5 years. Even though it was a dream, it meant a great deal to me. In the dream, I was having her spend the night at my place, no if's, and's or but's. I wanted to catch up and to try and engulf myself in a grand time with my first girl next door, best friend. She'd been my neighbor and my close friend since Middle School. Or maybe even the latter half of 5th grade. In my dream, I not only was so excited to have her stay the night over. I kissed her on the lips because I was so excited.
I've only kissed her on the cheek, once, during a game of spin the bottle. We were never intimately close. We were just best friends, always supporting one another, coming over at random hours, laughing and living as kids growing up to teenagers, do. I'm not going to splurge the entire history of everything between us because that's not the point I'm getting at or thinking about. I'm thinking about this uncalled for, unexpected, unbelievable teaser of a dream. Showing her to me, as if it was the present, as if I could see how she'd changed, and before we could even get to sitting down and talking, ripping her away from me again.
In my dream, she didn't look very good at all. Not good in the way she looked the last time I saw her anyway. She smoked, a long time growing up. But the last I saw her, she still showed zero signs of ailment from smoking or from her lifestyles. She looked normal. Blonde hair, blue eyes, short, peach skinned; a golfer, a lesbian, an ex-punk, and more. But in my dream, she looked like she'd been on some heavy drugs at some point in the years I missed her. She looked like she had some pretty bad symptoms, shown in the distinct veins in her cheek and the scars on the side of her neck. She looked like she'd been clean for a whole year all the way through til me seeing her in my dream. Like she'd gone to rehab and was clean and was promising on her life to stay clean after whatever had happened. She looked like she wasn't in school anymore. Not a graduate; just... working and making end's meet each day, but clean from the bad influences.
Whatever she looked like though, to me, I was just happy to see her again. That's why I insisted that she was staying the night and we were going to catch up. That's why I kissed her in my dream. That's why I woke up, rushed, disillusioned and sad as I headed off to work, late.
This was only the morning...
-----
This afternoon hit me with something new. If it had been a little different, I wouldn't be worrying so much and I'd just be careful to monitor the activities of my mother differently.
My mom has Pneumonia. "The doctor said I have Pneumonia, and that it's highly contagious." She told me in a phone call as she headed on her way home this afternoon. Pneumonia. It's dangerous. I don't know how bad she really is because I haven't seen her since yesterday morning, the day of July 4th. She couldn't join the whole family in celebrating because she felt awful. And now we know why.
She's supposed to just rest a lot and drink fluids and avoid contact with others for the next few days. Days. No work, no restlessness. Just sleep and drink and eat and rest more. Stop moving back and forth between the living room and the kitchen and the bedroom and back. Stop driving around. STOP. She won't listen of course. It's in her personality to keep moving, feeling that she knows everything about health and how to handle it. Pneumonia. People die from this. I'm afraid for her life... She's going to stress herself into an early deathbed... And I don't know how I'll react or what I'll do. Especially if she had the ability to keep it from happening, but disobeyed on her own accord. STOP DOING OTHER THINGS AND REST.
Rest and get better. Get better and then you can work again. But the first step is to stop stressing your body and your mind out. STOP IT. Rest please. And feel better. Get well.
Damn it... damn it, damnitdamnitmdamntidamnti.....itiitititititdamnit...
I don't give a shit about some Casey Anthony trial. There's shit happening all around the world. People lying all the time. I don't care that I have to work very carefully all this week because the 4th of July weekend backed everything up. I don't give a fucking two cents that I could be eating food that may or may not be holding contagious aspects of the sickness.
I care that my best friend growing up, showed up in unexpected conditions, in my dream no less, and was ripped from me. I care that my mom could potentially end up hospitalized.. or worse... Especially if she won't listen to everyone who's medically trying to help her. Stop thinking about if the food tastes good or bad. Stop thinking about everyone being unable to see you this week. Stop thinking about me. THINK ABOUT YOURSELF AND GET WELL IF YOU WANT EVERYONE ELSE TO FEEL BETTER TOO. FOCUS ON YOURSELF. Please. For the love of all gods. Please.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Motivation and Determination with Inspiration
I find myself losing the light of my existence.
Perhaps a temporary state of existentialism, yet I have no quarrels with my existence persay. It is the notice that I am lacking in two of the three things mentioned in the title of this particular post.
I have a rough outline of what I want to do in this life, and how I want to go about it. But the details I leave up to chance, so that I do not expect or foresee everything, but rather so that I can embrace the randomness. And this path of life, I am determined to keep myself to.
Unfortunately, I lack self-motivation and I lack such tremendous inspiration, of which both together would move me forward on my path. This is ridiculous. I can look at myself externally, and blatantly state that this is ridiculous. I know exactly what moves I should be making. I know precisely what consequences or changes will occur by doing so. My steps are laid out right in front of me, always within reach and in a straight line of sight.
And yet...
Without that motivation and inspiration... I can stare at my path all day, and be completely and fully, conciously aware that my life is passing by me day by day, and do nothing about it. I have a grand desire to slap myself in the face and yell at the pathetically lazy "self" I've allowed myself to become. But despite these absolutely ridiculous facts... I just can't move forward. I'm simply not budging and taking action... I need motivation. I need motivation and inspiration to give me a catapult onto my path and get me over this one foot tall obstacle that doesn't even impede my way...
Why won't I just start taking action? It's really as easy as it sounds. It's easy as it is said. And still, knowing this doesn't give me any inspiration... and despite understanding the sloth of my current days... I achieve zero motivation.
I have an idea or two as to why I lack these two important factors, but I personally believe that these ideas or "reasons" are more like pitiful excuses. I believe this because I have always been someone who tells others otherwise. Because in my experience, the grand majority of which remains unrevealed to everyone, one's life doesn't require these "reasons" to move forward.
The first: A girlfriend. I think this is just because of the build-up of testosterone from the lack of intimacy during the last 3 years. Years ago, I had a rather ridiculous number of friends that I actually spoke with and kept in contact with and a high number that I saw, every or every other day. And back then, I could distribute my affection among all of my friends, even if it wasn't in an intimate way. It was just that distribution to people I felt comfortable doing so to, that allowed me to have a release. A release of thought, feeling and energy. However, as time grew on, that number of friends diminished. Today, that number falls roughly to one percent of that original number. During this process of diminishing, I had attained girlfriends over the years.
[A note on the girlfriends over years: this is not saying that I've had multiple girls each year for many years. I'm one who prefers long-term relationships, and each as long-term. So only a few, over many years.]
With each girlfriend, no matter how many friends departed or left or simply lost contact with me all together, I could still give off that thought, feeling and energy, all to whomever was my girlfriend. To give her life, love, support, endurance through hardships, praise in accomplishments, and to give a boost to their abilities by teaching them things they didn't know; all of this was just as relevant vice-versa. They gave me all these things, and we could each grow tremendously together, always inspiring, and motivating one another to push forward.
This is why I feel like I need a girlfriend to give me these two missing things. I believe I have a heavy build-up, and that lack of distribution is clogging my mentality, disabling me from truly moving forward. But to give this pent-up thought, feeling and energy to someone would be to have someone to clear my way and even to push me to do my best.
Unfortunately, as I said, I've always been the type of person who believes that something like this isn't necessary for one to move forward in their life. Ironically, no more than an hour ago on my Facebook, someone was tagged in a word picture that states: SINGLE is not a status. It is a word to describe a person who is strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others.
A slap in the face? No. Only because I'm fully aware that fate is laying out everything right in front of me. All I have to do is reach. But, this is what I said at the beginning of this post. I'm aware, but I'm simply... not moving anywhere. I need a push... And as trivial and stupid and ridiculous as this statement is and even contradicts my belief, I think I need a girlfriend. Rather, I really want one... but not just anyone.
I'm not going to post what qualities I'm looking for in a girl, because I don't want to scribe away from some of my other beliefs and ideologies. I like to believe in dating and getting to know someone before deciding on making them an official girlfriend, rather than asking all the questions I want to ask through Facebook or an e-mail. Remember those days when people were more personable and social in their dating? Seeing one another face-to-face and really embracing eachother in intrigue and interest? I'm one of those kind of people.
I've been going on for a while now... but reason two, be it not a girlfriend, would be close, good friends that I can see often and share good moments with. Something I don't have anymore. I have friends, and there are people I see time to time, but I used to have friends that would come over to my place and just chill with me, or I'd go to their place and chill with them. Video games, cards, music, dancing, television, movies, even board games. We'd draw together, discuss politics, talk about philosophy, or share personal moments because we were good friends like that. There are people among the friends I have now that I would like to be like this with, but everyone is too busy or extremely far, or just can't have me over or can't come over themselves. In today's world of Facebooking, Twittering, and even blogs like this, people don't spend the same kind of together time as I did back then. As we did.
This type of psuedo-isolation is almost the realization of being completely and utterly alone really. I look at it as, despite the fact that I'm in contact with friends through networks, I feel further away from them when I'm chatting or messaging them, than I do when we talk on the phone or when we catch a distant glimpse of one another in person. In person. I think that's the key. Being with others physically, where energy and auras can mix and meld and people no longer are people, but rather they become individuals that are sharing with eachother. Individuals that are bonding.
I miss this... One does well to never forget, and never lose those bonds. These connections, and realizing the importance of them, are strengths to life, and to purpose.
Perhaps a temporary state of existentialism, yet I have no quarrels with my existence persay. It is the notice that I am lacking in two of the three things mentioned in the title of this particular post.
I have a rough outline of what I want to do in this life, and how I want to go about it. But the details I leave up to chance, so that I do not expect or foresee everything, but rather so that I can embrace the randomness. And this path of life, I am determined to keep myself to.
Unfortunately, I lack self-motivation and I lack such tremendous inspiration, of which both together would move me forward on my path. This is ridiculous. I can look at myself externally, and blatantly state that this is ridiculous. I know exactly what moves I should be making. I know precisely what consequences or changes will occur by doing so. My steps are laid out right in front of me, always within reach and in a straight line of sight.
And yet...
Without that motivation and inspiration... I can stare at my path all day, and be completely and fully, conciously aware that my life is passing by me day by day, and do nothing about it. I have a grand desire to slap myself in the face and yell at the pathetically lazy "self" I've allowed myself to become. But despite these absolutely ridiculous facts... I just can't move forward. I'm simply not budging and taking action... I need motivation. I need motivation and inspiration to give me a catapult onto my path and get me over this one foot tall obstacle that doesn't even impede my way...
Why won't I just start taking action? It's really as easy as it sounds. It's easy as it is said. And still, knowing this doesn't give me any inspiration... and despite understanding the sloth of my current days... I achieve zero motivation.
I have an idea or two as to why I lack these two important factors, but I personally believe that these ideas or "reasons" are more like pitiful excuses. I believe this because I have always been someone who tells others otherwise. Because in my experience, the grand majority of which remains unrevealed to everyone, one's life doesn't require these "reasons" to move forward.
The first: A girlfriend. I think this is just because of the build-up of testosterone from the lack of intimacy during the last 3 years. Years ago, I had a rather ridiculous number of friends that I actually spoke with and kept in contact with and a high number that I saw, every or every other day. And back then, I could distribute my affection among all of my friends, even if it wasn't in an intimate way. It was just that distribution to people I felt comfortable doing so to, that allowed me to have a release. A release of thought, feeling and energy. However, as time grew on, that number of friends diminished. Today, that number falls roughly to one percent of that original number. During this process of diminishing, I had attained girlfriends over the years.
[A note on the girlfriends over years: this is not saying that I've had multiple girls each year for many years. I'm one who prefers long-term relationships, and each as long-term. So only a few, over many years.]
With each girlfriend, no matter how many friends departed or left or simply lost contact with me all together, I could still give off that thought, feeling and energy, all to whomever was my girlfriend. To give her life, love, support, endurance through hardships, praise in accomplishments, and to give a boost to their abilities by teaching them things they didn't know; all of this was just as relevant vice-versa. They gave me all these things, and we could each grow tremendously together, always inspiring, and motivating one another to push forward.
This is why I feel like I need a girlfriend to give me these two missing things. I believe I have a heavy build-up, and that lack of distribution is clogging my mentality, disabling me from truly moving forward. But to give this pent-up thought, feeling and energy to someone would be to have someone to clear my way and even to push me to do my best.
Unfortunately, as I said, I've always been the type of person who believes that something like this isn't necessary for one to move forward in their life. Ironically, no more than an hour ago on my Facebook, someone was tagged in a word picture that states: SINGLE is not a status. It is a word to describe a person who is strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others.
A slap in the face? No. Only because I'm fully aware that fate is laying out everything right in front of me. All I have to do is reach. But, this is what I said at the beginning of this post. I'm aware, but I'm simply... not moving anywhere. I need a push... And as trivial and stupid and ridiculous as this statement is and even contradicts my belief, I think I need a girlfriend. Rather, I really want one... but not just anyone.
I'm not going to post what qualities I'm looking for in a girl, because I don't want to scribe away from some of my other beliefs and ideologies. I like to believe in dating and getting to know someone before deciding on making them an official girlfriend, rather than asking all the questions I want to ask through Facebook or an e-mail. Remember those days when people were more personable and social in their dating? Seeing one another face-to-face and really embracing eachother in intrigue and interest? I'm one of those kind of people.
I've been going on for a while now... but reason two, be it not a girlfriend, would be close, good friends that I can see often and share good moments with. Something I don't have anymore. I have friends, and there are people I see time to time, but I used to have friends that would come over to my place and just chill with me, or I'd go to their place and chill with them. Video games, cards, music, dancing, television, movies, even board games. We'd draw together, discuss politics, talk about philosophy, or share personal moments because we were good friends like that. There are people among the friends I have now that I would like to be like this with, but everyone is too busy or extremely far, or just can't have me over or can't come over themselves. In today's world of Facebooking, Twittering, and even blogs like this, people don't spend the same kind of together time as I did back then. As we did.
This type of psuedo-isolation is almost the realization of being completely and utterly alone really. I look at it as, despite the fact that I'm in contact with friends through networks, I feel further away from them when I'm chatting or messaging them, than I do when we talk on the phone or when we catch a distant glimpse of one another in person. In person. I think that's the key. Being with others physically, where energy and auras can mix and meld and people no longer are people, but rather they become individuals that are sharing with eachother. Individuals that are bonding.
I miss this... One does well to never forget, and never lose those bonds. These connections, and realizing the importance of them, are strengths to life, and to purpose.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
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