You wanted a blog...Here it is.
I wrote an essay called 'The Feeling That You Get' a ways back and I think this is part II. I had no name for the emotion i described but my english teacher at the time did. He crossed off my title and wrote Ennui. The first definition I came across for that word was a qoute "Full of ennuithat is to say, empty."
I've come to realize that no one is perfect. Even the most saintly person can be hypocritical and sneaky, no matter how much they denounce the sneakiness of others. The do as I say and not as I do mantra of our fathers is probably true for most of us, and I have no exception. I have lied, cheated and been damn near the skum of the earth. I should've realized that I was not alone in my less than lofty position.
The feeling I thought I'd had for so many years, is back. I know now that the ennui of yesteryear had morphed into apathy. And my lack of caring, was formed as a barrier to that discontent I had known. Instead of existential depression, i had build a fortress of nothing, to shield myself. But now with the castle gone, the ennui is unleashed. A quick look around shows just how much has been covered in it. The walls of my shithole apartment are painted with it. My non functioning car uses it as fuel and windshield wiper fluid. My job is about as close as i can get to swimming in it without drowning. My superficial interpersonal relationships are bonded with it. All I feel now is the only emotions I had really ever known.
Dissatisfaction, annoyance and futility. My friends always described me as the emotional rock when i was younger. Not in some illustrious way that promotes my stability, but in the sense that i had the emotional range of a rock. What they did not know was that what had started as a shell to protect me from the constant disappointment I felt, had and would continue to harden until it entombed the anger and frustration. I had no emotions only because no emotion is better than what I had. Anything.
Further more, I know i am no angel. I know i am no David. I am as worthless as you, if not more so. I have no friends. I have acquaintances, drinking buddies, ex girlfriends and girls who were too smart to let themselves obtain that title in the first place. I always blamed this on moving, and a myriad of other factors that were just as superficial as the 'relationships' i have now. I don't mean to cheapen the people I do have in my life or to say that its not real;it's my fault. I have a strange innate ability to make people feel like the closest person in the world while keeping them at bay with a force-field of glancing emotional blows and nonchalant behavior, peppered with bad choices and fear.
None of which were coincidence. I am a bad person, but deep down, you probably are too.
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The feeling that i get
Its that feeling you get when you lay in a scalding hot bathtub. You stare at the spout, and at the steam rising from the almost, but not quite boiling water, and at your bright red toes poking out at the foot of the tub. You embrace the painfully hot water because anything is better than what you had. Maybe you can kill the virus and parasites that you know are inside you with the heat. Maybe but not quite. While you stare at the mildew in the grout, you almost dunk your head under and never come up. Almost but not quite. You learn to nurse that feeling and let it fester inside you. Never really growing stronger, but never really diminishing. It just spreads. Like wildfire it infects almost everything in your life. Almost but not quite.
I really wish i had the first essays i wrote about that feeling. They got passed around kids at my first college and i have no idea where they ended up. Trying to recreate what i wrote is almost a bad idea. Almost but not quite. At least now you know the feeling that i get.
I know its 99% my fault. I threw rocks through the windows, kicked the door in, pissed on the couch, shit in the fridge and poured gasoline over the wreckage. It was a shitty house but it was warm at night. You knocked over a candle. Small potatoes at any other time, but not after what I did. It just sucks that we were inside cleaning and not outside laughing when it burned down.
I wrote an essay called 'The Feeling That You Get' a ways back and I think this is part II. I had no name for the emotion i described but my english teacher at the time did. He crossed off my title and wrote Ennui. The first definition I came across for that word was a qoute "Full of ennuithat is to say, empty."
I've come to realize that no one is perfect. Even the most saintly person can be hypocritical and sneaky, no matter how much they denounce the sneakiness of others. The do as I say and not as I do mantra of our fathers is probably true for most of us, and I have no exception. I have lied, cheated and been damn near the skum of the earth. I should've realized that I was not alone in my less than lofty position.
The feeling I thought I'd had for so many years, is back. I know now that the ennui of yesteryear had morphed into apathy. And my lack of caring, was formed as a barrier to that discontent I had known. Instead of existential depression, i had build a fortress of nothing, to shield myself. But now with the castle gone, the ennui is unleashed. A quick look around shows just how much has been covered in it. The walls of my shithole apartment are painted with it. My non functioning car uses it as fuel and windshield wiper fluid. My job is about as close as i can get to swimming in it without drowning. My superficial interpersonal relationships are bonded with it. All I feel now is the only emotions I had really ever known.
Dissatisfaction, annoyance and futility. My friends always described me as the emotional rock when i was younger. Not in some illustrious way that promotes my stability, but in the sense that i had the emotional range of a rock. What they did not know was that what had started as a shell to protect me from the constant disappointment I felt, had and would continue to harden until it entombed the anger and frustration. I had no emotions only because no emotion is better than what I had. Anything.
Further more, I know i am no angel. I know i am no David. I am as worthless as you, if not more so. I have no friends. I have acquaintances, drinking buddies, ex girlfriends and girls who were too smart to let themselves obtain that title in the first place. I always blamed this on moving, and a myriad of other factors that were just as superficial as the 'relationships' i have now. I don't mean to cheapen the people I do have in my life or to say that its not real;it's my fault. I have a strange innate ability to make people feel like the closest person in the world while keeping them at bay with a force-field of glancing emotional blows and nonchalant behavior, peppered with bad choices and fear.
None of which were coincidence. I am a bad person, but deep down, you probably are too.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The feeling that i get
Its that feeling you get when you lay in a scalding hot bathtub. You stare at the spout, and at the steam rising from the almost, but not quite boiling water, and at your bright red toes poking out at the foot of the tub. You embrace the painfully hot water because anything is better than what you had. Maybe you can kill the virus and parasites that you know are inside you with the heat. Maybe but not quite. While you stare at the mildew in the grout, you almost dunk your head under and never come up. Almost but not quite. You learn to nurse that feeling and let it fester inside you. Never really growing stronger, but never really diminishing. It just spreads. Like wildfire it infects almost everything in your life. Almost but not quite.
I really wish i had the first essays i wrote about that feeling. They got passed around kids at my first college and i have no idea where they ended up. Trying to recreate what i wrote is almost a bad idea. Almost but not quite. At least now you know the feeling that i get.
I know its 99% my fault. I threw rocks through the windows, kicked the door in, pissed on the couch, shit in the fridge and poured gasoline over the wreckage. It was a shitty house but it was warm at night. You knocked over a candle. Small potatoes at any other time, but not after what I did. It just sucks that we were inside cleaning and not outside laughing when it burned down.
mercie:
(At least I was willing to try and clean up the embers.)
skanthony:
I offered you a way out. The one thing that would make me feel better about your friendship with him. You refused. I told you it had to be that night or else it wouldn't really matter. So you tried to blow the embers out...thats usually a bad idea.