Oh hello Internet,
It's been far too long since we've had a little heart to heart. I know you don't care. That's not the point. As i've said before, this is more of a rant to my future self, written word for archival purposes so that later on I can look back on this time and see just how much of a pathetic bundle of self pity I've been.
Not much has changed. I've done a decent job of settling into my routine, but I've identified some issues worthy of thinking about it. A thought struck me - what did people do before there were computers that we could use to waste all sorts of time. I recall....we did things. So....I've set myself a series of goals that can be accomplished in solitude but will get me away from this god damn computer. Let it be written here for the world to see.
1) Get Motorcycle license + motorcycle.
a) Try not to kill myself.
b) Should (a) not succeed, kill myself in a spectacularly awesome way. Front page. None of this Page 5.
2) Join a gym, and actually go to that gym, on a regular basis.
a) If I ever get hit on, tear the girl down and say no. Turn the tables, see how they like it.
3) Complete a photo album of...something. Take at least 30 good pictures that I could be proud of.
a) I will do this without buying any more lenses for the camera. Nikon already has enough of my money.
4) I will not start smoking cigarettes again. It's a terrible habit. I will indulge instead my love of coffee and tea.
....I think that's about it for now.
Oppa Gangnam Style.
It's been far too long since we've had a little heart to heart. I know you don't care. That's not the point. As i've said before, this is more of a rant to my future self, written word for archival purposes so that later on I can look back on this time and see just how much of a pathetic bundle of self pity I've been.
Not much has changed. I've done a decent job of settling into my routine, but I've identified some issues worthy of thinking about it. A thought struck me - what did people do before there were computers that we could use to waste all sorts of time. I recall....we did things. So....I've set myself a series of goals that can be accomplished in solitude but will get me away from this god damn computer. Let it be written here for the world to see.
1) Get Motorcycle license + motorcycle.
a) Try not to kill myself.
b) Should (a) not succeed, kill myself in a spectacularly awesome way. Front page. None of this Page 5.
2) Join a gym, and actually go to that gym, on a regular basis.
a) If I ever get hit on, tear the girl down and say no. Turn the tables, see how they like it.
3) Complete a photo album of...something. Take at least 30 good pictures that I could be proud of.
a) I will do this without buying any more lenses for the camera. Nikon already has enough of my money.
4) I will not start smoking cigarettes again. It's a terrible habit. I will indulge instead my love of coffee and tea.
....I think that's about it for now.
Oppa Gangnam Style.
Weeks have passed, and I think I'm finally past the angry stage. Melancholy has set in. It's the important realization that really, there is no such thing as a "big thing." It's all inconsequential in the end. Shit day, good day, who cares. Don't ask me how you stop caring - I think it just happens once you reach a certain point where you realize you're worn out, and don't wind up recharging. It's good in a way in that I think it's kind of like a fail safe - you mindlessly go on through your daily grind and wait for something to happen that shakes that up. Maybe it will give you a bit of a boost and you will start caring again. Maybe things you forgot about finally start coming together and you realize that in some cases, good things come to those who wait.
I'm just wondering if that's going to happen here. And if it is, when. Until then, I think one just hast to keep on grinding. All I know is I'm tired of the emotional roller coaster, screaming at the internet like some petulant little teenager who had to be home by curfew. Small stuff, right? So for now, I think it's nice to sink into an emotionally detached lull - at least there's some consistency, and that's always a blessing in turbulent times.
I'm just wondering if that's going to happen here. And if it is, when. Until then, I think one just hast to keep on grinding. All I know is I'm tired of the emotional roller coaster, screaming at the internet like some petulant little teenager who had to be home by curfew. Small stuff, right? So for now, I think it's nice to sink into an emotionally detached lull - at least there's some consistency, and that's always a blessing in turbulent times.
And we're back. I'm appalled at how ridiculously pathetic my life is turning out. The highlight of this weekend is watching through all of season six and season seven of How I Met Your Mother. So I will concede, I miss my old life. I will also concede that I am now incredibly angry at how it got taken away. Some of you may have noticed that I had nothing much but kind words to say for my ex. Well, make that the one of you who I know actually bothers to read this crap.
Well, scratch that. I am angry. As it turns out, she's full of shit. I usually try to write more eloquently than this, but in honor of Occam's Razor, we will keep it simple. She is full of shit. I am very fucking angry. And that's all I have to say about that. I'm sorry ladies...I don't mean to lump you all in the same bucket, but I am having a really hard time differentiating between normal women who aren't out to screw you, lie to you, use to live out their "play house" fantasy and then kick you to the curb when they want to flip back into party girl mode. Bitches, bitches, bitches. I have no more to say.
Maybe it's time to dust off the old "hump n' dump" shoes. Give some of this back out there, and maintain the balance. Because really, at this point (and yes I do know that this makes me a completely terrible person and the usual male pig) I don't think I have any desire or capacity for something even resembling a relationship. Because really, I'll just go on a mistrustful investigative rampage, find something really small and stupid, over-react, and ruin the relationship. And that's assuming it's a nice, perfectly normal girl. If she's an actual bitch, I would probably find much worse.
Really, I just want to get them into bed, because I am tired of jerking off. There. I've put it out there. Go honesty. I'll find you all later, I need to find some wine because I'm too pissed off to sleep.
Well, scratch that. I am angry. As it turns out, she's full of shit. I usually try to write more eloquently than this, but in honor of Occam's Razor, we will keep it simple. She is full of shit. I am very fucking angry. And that's all I have to say about that. I'm sorry ladies...I don't mean to lump you all in the same bucket, but I am having a really hard time differentiating between normal women who aren't out to screw you, lie to you, use to live out their "play house" fantasy and then kick you to the curb when they want to flip back into party girl mode. Bitches, bitches, bitches. I have no more to say.
Maybe it's time to dust off the old "hump n' dump" shoes. Give some of this back out there, and maintain the balance. Because really, at this point (and yes I do know that this makes me a completely terrible person and the usual male pig) I don't think I have any desire or capacity for something even resembling a relationship. Because really, I'll just go on a mistrustful investigative rampage, find something really small and stupid, over-react, and ruin the relationship. And that's assuming it's a nice, perfectly normal girl. If she's an actual bitch, I would probably find much worse.
Really, I just want to get them into bed, because I am tired of jerking off. There. I've put it out there. Go honesty. I'll find you all later, I need to find some wine because I'm too pissed off to sleep.
Well hello there Friday. I see you're peaking out around the corner. It's nice to see you again. It seems just like yesterday we were last together, and here we are again. Isn't that lovely, time just flying by? I wozxcasdds.....*BEEP*. *ERROR*. * IDYLLIC BULLSHIT GENERATOR FAILURE*.
I'm terribly sorry about that. I try to take better care of it, I really do, but these days it seems to not really be all that ... of a pressing matter. I mean really, at this point there is no one other than the cat that has to put up with it, and I'm starting to suspect that it's grandiose amount of patience and love for me are illusions created by the fact that it really can't understand a single damn thing I'm saying, and the natural habit of cats to just not give a crap about anything that doesn't concern them or affect them on a certain level. Hang on. I gotta get more coffee.
Back. I really should stop drinking coffee - I already wake up way too much at night to the point where I'm finding it hard to put in a full 3 hour REM cycle. It's messing with me a bit, and the overcompensation with caffeine is slowly losing it's effect. This is not good and needs to be managed before it becomes a severe impediment.
On the note of impediments, here's what I'm really here to talk about today. I'm starting to find it hard to maintain proper balance, in the emotional sense. I think in a way, the people around act as a bit of an emotional balast in that they prevent you from swinging up and down too far in either direction, too fast. I have days where I feel absolutely stellar - I have days where I do not, and they seem to be alternating at random. I am finding it hard to anchor my feelings to some sort of reasonable medium standard. I need to find some way to deal with this before again, it becomes a problem.
I also have another issue. I just seem to have a lost a certain level of caring with respect to the behavioral norm. Not in the sense that I run down the street naked or anything, but some level of tact and empathy seems to be missing...no. Missing is not the right word. Dormant! That's the one...lovely word. Word of the week in fact. Write that down. I find myself caring less and less about what people have to say or think. Not in the total complete "caution, norms, and syntax out the window and bring out the prick" but in the fact that I seem to try to be using logic and my own reasoning to justify dismissing others. I'm not yet sure whether this bothers me, but it somewhat feels like it should. The fact that it doesn't scares me. I was stuck behind a very out-of-shape individual on a bicycle, who was biking on the road. On a good day, it would have been handled with an exasperated sigh and a stare out the sunroof while me and my other 19 compatriots in what I will dub the "frustration train" puddled along at 10 KM/H in a 50 KM/H road because this person decided not to move to the side and there was no proper passing opportunity. On a bad day, I would have probably spent at least five minutes screaming in the car with the windows rolled up so no one could hear, because while extremely irate, I was still trying to be considerate and mindful of the fact that no one else is necessarily interested in my own opinion. On this particular fine day, I decided it would be prudent to roll down my windows and belt out "Is the road shoulder not wide enough for your fat ass?" at the top of my lungs, and then proceeded to rev the engine and generally give the impression that I was about to run this individual down to the point where the person stopped, got off the bike, and started walking it down the sidewalk because they couldn't handle me. And you know what? I liked it, and I felt good about it, and I don't normally revel in terrifying other people. But damn them to hell on this particular day. I mean...a certain level of self-assertiveness is surely a good thing, but was that really necessary? If I had others around me, I would have likely kept my mouth shut to avoid their scrutiny. With no one to answer to save myself...well you know. Maybe I really am an asshole.
Hmm...what else? I mean, I'm really trying hard, and really, really, hard, to justify the above. Grammar geeks please don't hurt me - I realized I just abused the comma there like a man of the cloth with a young b....err, nevermind. I don't want to go there. Too soon. (Or is it?). I find myself in an interesting position. I still have the usually physical needs. I mean, what guy doesn't like to fuck? I find myself fairly lonely in this respect, to the point of craving that kind of thing, but the mere prospect of allowing a woman to enter my life scares the bejesus out of me. I don't feel like being manipulated and lied to again. At the same time, I don't want to pull the old "hump and dump" maneuver as men already have a bad enough name as it is, and I don't want to sink to that level. At least, I'm not OK with sinking to it yet, and really hope my general lack of giving a fuck doesn't progress to the point where that becomes OK. Sometimes if you let yourself go too far, you just don't come back. Gotta find a way to work through that. Christ. Maybe I should just hire a bunch of hookers (sorry...ladies of the night, let's say) and spend the weekend doing lines of blow off of someone's enhanced tits. I don't like boobies (or breasts, or whatever you want to call them) with implants, but I imagine being much more firm, they would be more suitable to the purpose. This is far from the smartest idea I've ever had, but it has a strange kind of appeal. I mean, if you're tired of yourself, don't want to kill yourself in any way, but still fancy a bit of self-destructive behavior with a party twist (the kind that comes with that cute little toothpick umbrella contraption), there's a hell of a weekend. But, it really probably won't happen. I don't like snorting things, and cocaine scares me as I already have a fairly shock-prone cardio system that doesn't need any additional stress. God knows that caffeine doesn't help. And that nasty-ass drip down the back of your throat...oh bleh. It'll just probably be me, coffee, the cat, and internet spaceships all over again, but we won't find out till we get there.
Until then, goodnight moon.
I'm terribly sorry about that. I try to take better care of it, I really do, but these days it seems to not really be all that ... of a pressing matter. I mean really, at this point there is no one other than the cat that has to put up with it, and I'm starting to suspect that it's grandiose amount of patience and love for me are illusions created by the fact that it really can't understand a single damn thing I'm saying, and the natural habit of cats to just not give a crap about anything that doesn't concern them or affect them on a certain level. Hang on. I gotta get more coffee.
Back. I really should stop drinking coffee - I already wake up way too much at night to the point where I'm finding it hard to put in a full 3 hour REM cycle. It's messing with me a bit, and the overcompensation with caffeine is slowly losing it's effect. This is not good and needs to be managed before it becomes a severe impediment.
On the note of impediments, here's what I'm really here to talk about today. I'm starting to find it hard to maintain proper balance, in the emotional sense. I think in a way, the people around act as a bit of an emotional balast in that they prevent you from swinging up and down too far in either direction, too fast. I have days where I feel absolutely stellar - I have days where I do not, and they seem to be alternating at random. I am finding it hard to anchor my feelings to some sort of reasonable medium standard. I need to find some way to deal with this before again, it becomes a problem.
I also have another issue. I just seem to have a lost a certain level of caring with respect to the behavioral norm. Not in the sense that I run down the street naked or anything, but some level of tact and empathy seems to be missing...no. Missing is not the right word. Dormant! That's the one...lovely word. Word of the week in fact. Write that down. I find myself caring less and less about what people have to say or think. Not in the total complete "caution, norms, and syntax out the window and bring out the prick" but in the fact that I seem to try to be using logic and my own reasoning to justify dismissing others. I'm not yet sure whether this bothers me, but it somewhat feels like it should. The fact that it doesn't scares me. I was stuck behind a very out-of-shape individual on a bicycle, who was biking on the road. On a good day, it would have been handled with an exasperated sigh and a stare out the sunroof while me and my other 19 compatriots in what I will dub the "frustration train" puddled along at 10 KM/H in a 50 KM/H road because this person decided not to move to the side and there was no proper passing opportunity. On a bad day, I would have probably spent at least five minutes screaming in the car with the windows rolled up so no one could hear, because while extremely irate, I was still trying to be considerate and mindful of the fact that no one else is necessarily interested in my own opinion. On this particular fine day, I decided it would be prudent to roll down my windows and belt out "Is the road shoulder not wide enough for your fat ass?" at the top of my lungs, and then proceeded to rev the engine and generally give the impression that I was about to run this individual down to the point where the person stopped, got off the bike, and started walking it down the sidewalk because they couldn't handle me. And you know what? I liked it, and I felt good about it, and I don't normally revel in terrifying other people. But damn them to hell on this particular day. I mean...a certain level of self-assertiveness is surely a good thing, but was that really necessary? If I had others around me, I would have likely kept my mouth shut to avoid their scrutiny. With no one to answer to save myself...well you know. Maybe I really am an asshole.
Hmm...what else? I mean, I'm really trying hard, and really, really, hard, to justify the above. Grammar geeks please don't hurt me - I realized I just abused the comma there like a man of the cloth with a young b....err, nevermind. I don't want to go there. Too soon. (Or is it?). I find myself in an interesting position. I still have the usually physical needs. I mean, what guy doesn't like to fuck? I find myself fairly lonely in this respect, to the point of craving that kind of thing, but the mere prospect of allowing a woman to enter my life scares the bejesus out of me. I don't feel like being manipulated and lied to again. At the same time, I don't want to pull the old "hump and dump" maneuver as men already have a bad enough name as it is, and I don't want to sink to that level. At least, I'm not OK with sinking to it yet, and really hope my general lack of giving a fuck doesn't progress to the point where that becomes OK. Sometimes if you let yourself go too far, you just don't come back. Gotta find a way to work through that. Christ. Maybe I should just hire a bunch of hookers (sorry...ladies of the night, let's say) and spend the weekend doing lines of blow off of someone's enhanced tits. I don't like boobies (or breasts, or whatever you want to call them) with implants, but I imagine being much more firm, they would be more suitable to the purpose. This is far from the smartest idea I've ever had, but it has a strange kind of appeal. I mean, if you're tired of yourself, don't want to kill yourself in any way, but still fancy a bit of self-destructive behavior with a party twist (the kind that comes with that cute little toothpick umbrella contraption), there's a hell of a weekend. But, it really probably won't happen. I don't like snorting things, and cocaine scares me as I already have a fairly shock-prone cardio system that doesn't need any additional stress. God knows that caffeine doesn't help. And that nasty-ass drip down the back of your throat...oh bleh. It'll just probably be me, coffee, the cat, and internet spaceships all over again, but we won't find out till we get there.
Until then, goodnight moon.
So, with all that out of the way, the question ever-present after major changes rears its ugly head: what next? I'm really not sure where to go to be honest. I find myself in a very strange place, emotionally. My trust and control issues feel as if they have been amplified, and I don't know what to do with that. Let them be? They are wonderful safety mechanisms. Try to deal with them? I really, really, don't like mental health professionals. It's that I doubt the quality of their profession, I just don't want to be the nameless topic of their home dinner table conversation. You really can't trust anyone, and life proves this quite well over and over and over again.
I don't think they're impacting me negatively. I'm nice (I think, and I haven't seen those in my general surroundings recoil from me, with a few exceptions but those can be traced to other more specific causes) to people around me. I just choose not to share anything remotely private or intimate about myself. People say talking helps, but really it just stresses me the hell out. In a way, this is a nice outlet. You don't know who I am. I could be your boss, your lover (OK, that's just wishful thinking, and more on that later), the hobo down the street with a stolen laptop jacked into someone's open WiFi network...so this feels safe. Even if you wanted to violate my trust or go on an excursion of pillage and plundering of my privacy with the information here, there's no way to tie it back to me. So that's good. Control issues? Well, I refuse to enter into relationships or put myself into situations (when given a choice obviously, sometimes you just have to suck it up, try to keep calm, and carry on) where I feel someone else is pulling the proverbial strings. So really, why deal with them? They're there for a reason. If people weren't always acting in their own self-interest and ignorant of others, it would be easier to trust them, but how can you? They have the ultimate motivation to abuse and misuse any kind of trust you give them: their own gain, as opportunities for it present themselves. It's not that I think they're bad, I just think we're all mostly programmed in a certain way. I'd like to believe that people are nice. But in the end, they win over you every time a decision has to be made. At least in the extreme majority, based on what I've seen. Not being one to call into doubt solid empirical evidence, It's just safer to go with that.
It's hard. There are days I feel like damaged goods, incompatible with the general social aspect of life. I fake it pretty damn well, but I feel tired and not at all good. This is new...ish, however I do strongly suspect that it is here to stay, at least for a while. This is no one-night motel quickstop. This is one of those annoying Florida vacation home timeshares with no end in sight, because the in-laws just insist that you stay and enjoy some more of Auntie Mae's key lime pie that no one has the courage to describe for the extremely unappealing pile of goop that it really is. Groovy.
What to do...what to do...the status quo I don't like. I feel lonely at times, and I feel very anxious at other times because of the ingrained idea that this is not OK. But after the extreme kick in the back that is the only person you've had the courage to be completely open with and to give yourself to completely kicks you to the curb, the appeal or want of any such relationship is minimal, and the feelings of hurt clash very badly and over-ride any general desire for company.
I really don't feel like fighting my instincts. That's wrong - they're there to keep you alive and going. Maybe its better to work on being OK with being alone. I mean...why do I really need people? This is an interesting question, one that bears pondering among all the other great dilemmas of life. What if it's that easy? Reject the norm and embrace one as one's own and total best company. What's that annoying side of brain? A retort? What's that? If it's so great, why isn't it a prevalent social idea? Well, if someone does it successfully, how the heck would you know? They wouldn't advertise - it invites attention and completely counteracts the initial mission, or goal if you prefer. Second, society wouldn't like it to be a mainstream lifestyle choice. Think of how much useless crap people wouldn't buy and how many overpriced establishments they wouldn't frequent anywhere near as often. It would be the slap in the face to the kick in the balls that was the sub-prime mortgage crisis and ensuing financial meltdown. But really, that's not a very good reason not to try.
Something to think about. Erase. Rewind. Start again, by self.
I don't think they're impacting me negatively. I'm nice (I think, and I haven't seen those in my general surroundings recoil from me, with a few exceptions but those can be traced to other more specific causes) to people around me. I just choose not to share anything remotely private or intimate about myself. People say talking helps, but really it just stresses me the hell out. In a way, this is a nice outlet. You don't know who I am. I could be your boss, your lover (OK, that's just wishful thinking, and more on that later), the hobo down the street with a stolen laptop jacked into someone's open WiFi network...so this feels safe. Even if you wanted to violate my trust or go on an excursion of pillage and plundering of my privacy with the information here, there's no way to tie it back to me. So that's good. Control issues? Well, I refuse to enter into relationships or put myself into situations (when given a choice obviously, sometimes you just have to suck it up, try to keep calm, and carry on) where I feel someone else is pulling the proverbial strings. So really, why deal with them? They're there for a reason. If people weren't always acting in their own self-interest and ignorant of others, it would be easier to trust them, but how can you? They have the ultimate motivation to abuse and misuse any kind of trust you give them: their own gain, as opportunities for it present themselves. It's not that I think they're bad, I just think we're all mostly programmed in a certain way. I'd like to believe that people are nice. But in the end, they win over you every time a decision has to be made. At least in the extreme majority, based on what I've seen. Not being one to call into doubt solid empirical evidence, It's just safer to go with that.
It's hard. There are days I feel like damaged goods, incompatible with the general social aspect of life. I fake it pretty damn well, but I feel tired and not at all good. This is new...ish, however I do strongly suspect that it is here to stay, at least for a while. This is no one-night motel quickstop. This is one of those annoying Florida vacation home timeshares with no end in sight, because the in-laws just insist that you stay and enjoy some more of Auntie Mae's key lime pie that no one has the courage to describe for the extremely unappealing pile of goop that it really is. Groovy.
What to do...what to do...the status quo I don't like. I feel lonely at times, and I feel very anxious at other times because of the ingrained idea that this is not OK. But after the extreme kick in the back that is the only person you've had the courage to be completely open with and to give yourself to completely kicks you to the curb, the appeal or want of any such relationship is minimal, and the feelings of hurt clash very badly and over-ride any general desire for company.
I really don't feel like fighting my instincts. That's wrong - they're there to keep you alive and going. Maybe its better to work on being OK with being alone. I mean...why do I really need people? This is an interesting question, one that bears pondering among all the other great dilemmas of life. What if it's that easy? Reject the norm and embrace one as one's own and total best company. What's that annoying side of brain? A retort? What's that? If it's so great, why isn't it a prevalent social idea? Well, if someone does it successfully, how the heck would you know? They wouldn't advertise - it invites attention and completely counteracts the initial mission, or goal if you prefer. Second, society wouldn't like it to be a mainstream lifestyle choice. Think of how much useless crap people wouldn't buy and how many overpriced establishments they wouldn't frequent anywhere near as often. It would be the slap in the face to the kick in the balls that was the sub-prime mortgage crisis and ensuing financial meltdown. But really, that's not a very good reason not to try.
Something to think about. Erase. Rewind. Start again, by self.
