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Sunday, April 22nd, 2007
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8:27 am - Expiration date...
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So, sometimes I wonder, do livejournal folks read back over old, or for the very prolific, medium-old posts for new comments?
Sometimes I pop back on here and read some stuff and I think " Wow, maybe I have something to say here, this is interesting and thought provoking ( or funny ) ! " But then I notice it was from e-eons ago and say "dernit, how come whenever I'm actually around, all I see is "Hum, went to the mall and bought the new cee-dee, cool tunes and mellow news." Or some other short two line thing, which really leaves no room for discussion... well maybe it does. But... anyway, not that I can talk, I mean I am probably one of the least prolific livejournal users who still actually uses their account at all. ( So I'm not counting single post ghost journals or whatever. )
But ehh... My life is, I feel, probably not interesting to the most anyone else. But I might have some quick things to say or whatever... Anyway, this actually is a question that, if anyone bothers to stop on this bare rock island of a journal, is free to answer. I personally, having so few posts, wouldn't mind. But since I vanish for long spans sometimes, I might not notice. Not the best example I know, but eh...
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| Friday, April 20th, 2007
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10:13 am - Something is missing, and other worries. (Part poem, part journal entry, as these tend to be)
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One day I noticed something was missing. That day was today, or maybe yesterday.
With no sleep to speak of a wash came over me, and I began to feel strange.
The wellspring of that medicational regularity, paltry as it may have been, had run dry.
Something is missing and I don't know what it is.
The pills that make the sine wave flatten out. That bring the peaks and troughs closer to the center line,
were weeks gone. I knew it didn't make it all better, but I notice now that they did something.
At least I could sleep easier while in its dull, salmon-pink embrace.
Now again the darkness summons forth its aliens and demons, its uncertainties and restlessness,
a feeling and knowledge that I am the only one awake, there is no one to talk to and, should I close my eyes
and try to enter sleep while night still lingers, that at any time I might slip into the adream. Feel that weight and
gravity again. Toss and slide and roll and fall on a thin black slab. Feel again that fire, those blades, pierce and sear my skin and flesh.
And hear that sound, the sound getting louder every second of eternity in the adream. The sound of my own screaming, within my head.
A wordless sound that wells and pulses and surges against my own skull, threatening to fill it, exceed its bounds, and burst it.
It is a primal cry of pain, and for help, escape. A help that never comes, for no one hears the scream. My mind gives forth a throat rending cry, but my larynx claims differently. How calm must I look if there were ever someone to observe me? Do I stir even the slightest? Telling someone of it, would they be able to see the outward signs of the adream?
Everytime I have escaped its grasp, I looked about in dazed wonder, "Did I wake anyone with all that screaming?"
And for some reason, I always seem to hope not, I mean, not everyone. Just one person would be enough, but no one ever notices. I'm as alone in my return as I was in my absence. The stillness of the night my only company. Even a friend sleeping mere feet away had paid no heed to the cries I knew I had uttered only moments before.
So I wait until the sun rises and the rest of the world wakes before I dare to dream, but though my sleep is long, it is never restful. I wake feeling as if I had slept less than no time at all. Sometimes I think I might sleep forever.
And this is absurd, and this is what is, and this isn't even what I was going to talk about when I started.
Something was missing I had noticed earlier. And I can't say exactly what it is.
I feel restless. I started thinking about things, people. People I only, sort of really knew.
And people I think I really know.
All the things I've felt at different times, the negative things, seemed to happen all at once.
Guilt, nostalgia, regret, depression, anxiety, and many others. I can't tell really.
It's a post-blender situation. But not exactly.
I've dropped off the face of the earth a few times, and while I'm gone, I wonder if it mattered to anyone if I was there.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal. But I just wonder. If I live like a hermit, would it be so bad?
If I overcome the need for companionship, will I be a better person?
Will overcoming eating and sleeping be possible then?
I don't know.
I even dropped off the virtual face of the virtual earth. And strangely, that is what I wonder about more sometimes, at night, while sidestepping demons and ducking aliens. Because I drop back onto the face of the real earth more often.
I thought maybe I needed a break from the virtual drama. I mean, the emotions were real. And maybe it was waste of time pouring so much into it when there was a real world, and real friends to be with.
But I still feel like I'm wasting my time.
I feel like something is missing and It renders me incapable of many things.
If I can not sleep at a regular time for a regular length of time, then nothing can be done on a regular basis.
I feel I perform poor to average in everything I do.
And I hate feeling trapped like this.
And I hate feeling so depressed, anxious and tired all the damn time.
Even when I'm laughing and talking with friends, even when I embrace my girlfriend
these feelings remain at the back of my mind.
I know deep down that I am useless, and I know I don't know how to fix it.
It sucks.
I also just realized that, I know this could all be due to a little peach colored pill, not being there, not doing its job, poorly, but better than not doing it at all.
I plan to replace it with something else, but that's not gonna be for awhile.
Gotta see the shaman. Get the magic slip that nets me the rickety boat down this river of emotion and thought. Better than body surfing into the vortex right?
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| Saturday, February 11th, 2006
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11:24 am - I take this into mine own hands and make something of it.
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LJ Interests meme results
- being nonexistent:
One day you wake up, and you aren't there. - classic rock:
Who doesn't love such classics as Bassalt Glass and Granite? Sandstone and Conglomerate? Quartz and friends. Everyone knows them. A pebble in the wavestay. Dylan, Waits... They Might Be Giants, but I can't tell. Young, is not so. Black Sabbath every so often. How many of these things belong? How many of these things are songs? How many of these things are wrong? Who is wrong? Not me, this is mine. - crono not chrono:
Crono is the Hero of one of my favorite RPGs of all time. Chrono is time. Time is marching on your face for eternity. Cancel the checks, you can't buy your way out of this one. - ephemeral and eternal:
A turn of the phrase. A trick of the wind. We aren't here very long. But we last a lifetime. And sometimes a forever. Isn't that what everyone wants? - flesh and bone:
It's what we're made of. The Darkness comes! And it will damn us all. Well, five years later and we're still here. Five years later and things are fine. - i almost forgot:
I almost forgot quite a number of things. I almost forgot something named Hembert Freqozveldt latched onto the underside of the submarine the other day. I almost forgot the bathtub on the way to the store. I almost forgot the mosaic on the dashboard. - man vs himself:
One of the three literary conflicts. You find yourself fighting you. Inner demons. Inner turmoil. One can be one's own worst critic. Stab yourself with the blade of wit and bleed yourself to sleep. - opus operational orator ovum:
What a one to pick! I'll conjure up some more wordsmithery. Smithy the swordsmith went to town on the star road and came up with a new method of travel. Giant Sword powered travel. Powdered travel berries. Buries the opposition with weaponry. Weaponary concerns. Wishes obsoleted.
Though this interest had nothing to do with Mario RPG originally. - quote on quote action:
They are Yin-Yanging each-other up the wazoo and back. Don't put anything in between their love. They crave each other's warm embrace. Do not deny them that with your words. Your words. - they might be:
They might be anything really. Who knows? They might be out for lunch on the moon. They might be the moon. They might be taking you downtown as we speak. They might be over there. They might be crawling on their hands and knees, begging for forgiveness. They might be the king of spain.
Enter your LJ user name, and 10 interests will be selected from your interest list.
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(comment on this)
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9:36 am - Spurious the moment
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And I bet somewhere down there deep inside. It all makes sense. To the one what spat it there on the avenue sidewalk cafe table tennis set up the nine pin. Take down the keystone. Take off the corner stone. Stop by the corner store. Corner after four. Quarter after more. Water after floor. Ceilingwasps and daycare blues. Devil in the dinnerbell. Decide on your own theocratomannicotracy. Yearly dues and pasta manifolds. Mancipation doorway. Cremation ceremony. Creation unrequited. Unrequired. Undetastalamia Derringer fuel. Stool on the side of the table. Sit down for scarpromony. Wrent yourself a new home out of sawdust. Festermongers selling their wares down the street from Edenhouse. Gaschambermaids at the ready.
Green soothsays the never been. Never win never went neverventricle vent. Harpsichordial welcomings. Opening wounds of friendship's last take-out special. Lapdancing cats out to steal the breadcrumbs from all the shepherd's pie's raincoat staverns. Stavenues. Lavanthropology. Topicological conclusion. Censure of yourself. Ferenghettisberg a dress for all occasions. Tsufukuka komingowa. Nonsection five. Underline two. Foreword seventeen.
Hethlomog gomagranite pomangerine. Syllabannana. Autorange. Out for steward. Westard. Destraw. Wedrest. Ghalphontoph. Yuringolinger. Gossamer fingerprints. She died of gesticulation. Four and token blackbirds aren't going to bake up a storm anytime soon.
Paragraph breaks for cigarettes and coffee. Rainstorm crept up unexpected like. Tiptoeing feathertones across the boulevard. Gretchen washed her hands in the whole affair. Cuttlemort. Scuttleworth. She candied flowers for the fairway. She dandelioned a destiny for those who paid the silver. A sliver of a chance for you. A sliver of a chance. A rivulet of a flood down mainstreet. Gainstays out of the way.
A sliver of a dance through the alley with you. A slither dance. A serpentine cronomance. Legendary Legerdemain. Hash mark the refrain. A sliver of a chance to walk through unscathed. Unpaved cement farmer harvesting the crop. A silver of a tense. A sliver of a mench. A slither of a wench. A dither of a wrench. Take it over the moondrop. Toss it under the rainspout. Garagebandwagon excelsior! Excalibur. X factorial.
The mighty Constructor is out to create everything in the universe! Watch out! It may have already gotten to you!
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(comment on this)
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7:15 am
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I don't care much for the word "meme" at times. But here's me deciding to write lyrics to the music for Pharaoh Man's stage. I only went once around the track, so it's pretty short.
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Pnarahoam
In-
E-
Qua-
Tion
Asymptote finding
itself another
entrance
into the path of the dawn
Corpuscle leaving
return to sender
passage
within location unknown.
take first, leave the rest at home
boredom breeds discontent
anathema to life
striding forward towards
answers are best left unsaid.
Atomic Energy
Flowing through inland seas
Taking the bus through Innsmouth
Sleeping with the tourists on the way.
Shining apocalypse
chocolate covered ships
Quantum Physics having some tea.
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| Thursday, February 9th, 2006
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1:56 pm - Thought, Emotion, Contagion.
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In reaction to a reaction to a thought provoking post. Thought was provoked into being. And that was how the world began.
So, lies, the so-called truth. And the people who thought they had friends but only had something lesser. The world is an illusion alluded to in a love-letter written by some forgotten deity, addressed to an equally forgotten deity.
How many times have I walked down the road of introspection? Brought on by thoughts of my own or others, I took the chance to write what I might call poems. Yet, I remain ignorant as to what history might call them.
Liars, cheaters and thieves. My wise Grandmother, my mother's mother, told that these were what she hated the most. I don't boast when I admit that I was considered at least one of those by many members of my family.
Lies, this world is built on them. No one wants to tell the truth of the matter anymore. Because the matter doesn't even matter. It's always something else on.
So, so the claim of detachment from everyone. A shield, forcefield, forcefeeding lies, or not forcefeeding. Everyone gobbles it up like manna from the waves. Saves the frustration of having to admit what things are really like. But what's it all about?
What's it all about? Far too many people to waste time with. Far too few people worth knowing. Far too little time to bother. Far too much space to cover.
How many people, I wonder, think life is a game to be played, a game to be won, of thrones. All the planning to make certain plans come to fruition. Military strategy. Chess moves. Not very sociable, I would think.
But this poem, this poem is not about other people.
For I wonder, "am I this way? Do I do this?" It is the way things go. Introspection can be contagious.
So I look over the people I know. And the people I think I know. And the people I thought I knew. And the people I never knew. And I add them all together and divide by thirty-pi. And I wonder if I really am the way I think I.
I once said that I felt like I wear a mask all the time to hide what I am really like from people. A nice guy mask to hide the rotten form beneath.
I have said more recently that sometimes I do not know what the "real me" is like. I know I wear a different set of me when I see different people. I suppose the difference is, I do not consider them lies.
What is the real, what is the fake?
I do find the time spent with certain people to be rather worthwhile. But I act differently around each one. I tailor myself to the situation, and a different me suits each one.
Is this news? Does this make me a liar? I do not wish to be a liar, I have toiled under the name for a long time. I said nothing. I said something. It never mattered. But that was not my friends' words.
I have a few people I consider friends. Some of them I have not met in person, or maybe have only met once. Some of them I have known for years. I act a different part for each one. But I also act the part for me.
I've been told I have a Dissociative Identity Disorder. I have never woken up as someone else. Somewhere else, with someone else's clothes. I know of everything going on. Well, not really. But no walls separate me from another me. All the me's hang out together. There might be only the faintest difference between some of them. The me who hangs out with this friend, or that friend. The me who talks to online people. The me who talks to other online people. The me who posts on livejournal. The me who spends time with my girlfriend. The me who spends time alone.
Which one is the "real me"? I have no way to know. There are also the fictional me's that never even tried to run for the position of "real me." Various RP characters. Some of my "music" or "stage" personas. Those guys don't care about reality. And they don't even care if it cares about them.
I never cared to ask it.
current mood: Introspective
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| Tuesday, September 27th, 2005
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4:40 pm - The quiz bug bites again
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CronoLuminaire took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Strives for a life rich in activity and experience..."
Click here to read the rest of the results.
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But I did not think that's entirely how it was.
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, September 26th, 2005
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9:00 pm - Frawgs, Robuts and Russopean-man vs. You III
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| Saturday, July 16th, 2005
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7:13 am
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Every so often I come on here and see what the folks on my friends list (who update far more often than me) are up to. A couple of times I've looked at their ( ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) abangaku and god_of_belac 's in particular) info pages, a lot of interesting stuff going on there. Today I decided to play a little game, I'd just follow a trail along god_of_belac 's friends list and see what some of the people I don't know are like. I did not actually read very much of their actual journals, but I discovered something interesting.
I was already familiar with vagina_of_belac who thought enough of me to friend me, so I friended back, for the heck of it, despite knowing nothing about this "person."
Anyway, I discovered that there were many vagina journals out there, and all is not equal in vaginaland, some are more vocal then others, especially the rather mute vagina_of_belac (there are no posts and I never saw the comments), also the vagina journal phenomenon seems related to Swarthmore, or SWIL, though perhaps both, I can not be sure.
As someone who has not even set eye nor foot on Swarthmore's "hallowed grounds" I must say that makes the friending by vagina_of_belac even less likely and I suppose, more appreciated?
Anyway I did not get anywhere near the end of the trail, but instead stopped to post this. It was interesting to see that there was some sort of triangular relation between arctangent , kid_prufrock and kid_chufrock . kid_chufrock is apparently part of the vagina journal movement as well, perhaps as an honorary member, or perhaps because "chu" is some sort of SWIL slang for vagina, I would not put it past them, for they seemed a strange and interesting bunch from the accounts of god_of_belac .
I don't know if this post will garner me a vagina parody, and I don't know how I'd react to it, I don't like the idea of someone I don't even know doing something like this, also, I hardly post so there is not much material, and nothing in my info page either. Also, since it seems that this is a SWIL related phenomenon, it means that the other people who have vagina journal parodies of their journals have at least a chance of knowing who the person behind the vagina is, I mean, it has to be someone out of the pool of SWIL people, which is a group of people they know and are a part of. I do not know them, and am not a part of them, so it would be even more disconcerting for me because of that. For that same reason, it would also make less sense for one to appear.
But probably precisely for these reasons, one shall appear, by way of Murphy's Law or some other rule concerning luck.
But it's likely I would not see it for some time.
current mood: Insomniaic
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(comment on this)
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| Tuesday, July 5th, 2005
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3:28 pm - Usually I just look at these things and don't bother...
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Desmond Cavalier Trebuchet's Aliases
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Your movie star name: Frescoes Trenton
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Your fashion designer name is Desmond Ferris Wheel
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Your socialite name is Three Bucket Your House
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Your fly girl / guy name is D Tre
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Your detective name is Birdies Chevouche
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Your barfly name is You Fresh Water Grain
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Your soap opera name is Cavalier Candalia Place
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Your rock star name is Gnostic Biddles A Horse Riding Flea
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Your star wars name is Desdan Treora
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Your punk rock band name is The Combustible Basalt Glass Window
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But this (with no true to me answers obviously) produced some hilarious results. Concur or no?
current mood: shrug
current music: Computer Fan: Whrrrrr
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| Wednesday, November 17th, 2004
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11:16 am
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So, Captain Beefheart is awesome. I came to this conclusion after listening to only one of his albums, which is not even his best according to my friend who owns the albums. The name of it is The Spotlight Kid/Clear Spot, a double album crafted posthumously in terms of Captain Beefheart's music career. My friend thinks its interesting that I became a fan so easily without even lis
Sudden subject change
The Advantage is a band that, like the Minibosses, plays old NES hits in "real" instruments, difference is they play some obscure games like Werewolf: The Last Warrior. Fuck yeah. This is fucking cool, I'm having fun testing my old NES memory. They also seem to sport a not as distortion and snare heavy sound that allows the backing instruments to shine through easier. But don't worry Minibosses, I still love you too.
current mood: Fuck Yeah!
current music: The Advantage - Wizards and Warriors-Intro
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| Monday, November 15th, 2004
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6:55 am
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So it's been awhile... blah blah... having the internet only in sporadic bursts will do that.
Anyway I asked a friend of mine a question recently
Does not feeling to strongly about anything make you flexible?
He replied that no it's possible to be inflexible and not still feel too strongly about it.
I thought that this was just semantics, although I did not say as much.
So I'm here to think about this and type some words and who knows, maybe I'll understand what my brain is doing, thinking of something like this.
See, I know lot's of people who feel strongly enough about something to actually invest time into it. Drawing, Music, History, Languages, you name it, people do it. And not half-assed either, they do it like it is the best thing going, like it's air or something, gotta breathe don't you?
But, I don't have any air like that. I've taken some lessons for piano, but don't really practice. I've tried my hand at drawing at various times and just made some messes on the paper or the little box on the screen. I've wanted to make video games since I first played them, but despite having a few makers of el RPG, I have not done much with them.
Sometimes I write poems and stuff... When the feeling hits me, I can actually do it... but it's not something I have figured out how to summon at will. I want to write something in the Narrative form, but I have trouble with dialog, and that's a big part of a story. Plus a story is longer than most of my poetic work and I just run out of steam.
Dammit, this is probably that whining stuff I told that friend I did not want to do. Ehh, he did say that at least I'm not forcing anyone to read this.
Oh yeah, fuck is it bad to cut your thumbnail with a peeler. That was so stupid of me to hold it with my right hand...
So, I'm back, or whatever.
But no promises.
current mood: Bleh
current music: The whirring of the computer fan count?
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| Saturday, February 28th, 2004
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1:16 pm - Another one of those upheaval type things. Another long post.
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Well, this is another long-overdue post.
I moved about a week ago, to a place that is sort of my own, and sort of not. There are no "authority" figures, but I do have two roommates. I'll also say that this place came with a program. A supportive type of program.
One roommate is a rather nice guy, hardly talks, but still ok.
The other roommate is nice... But often he won't shut up... Anytime I'm not in my room, he, I suppose, feels a need to talk to me. Over the course of one week, he has made the decree ( without using such a fancy word ), that he and I are friends, and later, that he and I are like brothers.
I'm tend to think of myself as a nice guy. I really don't like making waves. I know that everyone in life has their own little problems. I know that in some of the situations that I've been in, these problems are more apparent than in the normal day-to-day lives of other people.
I also know that I've been the oldest child in my family for a long time, my whole life in fact. And I know that friendships take a bit longer than a fucking week to make. Especially when one of the "friends" is a 40+ man who has come to the determination that staying where he is, is the best thing he can possibly do. Not that I necessarily hold it against him, it is a pretty logical and cost effective reason he has for doing so. I just don't think that he is the kind of person I see myself looking up to. I'm still moving, I'm not done with this life yet. Slowly but surely I'm heading towards that place where I can truly stand on my own two feet. I won't let myself act like I'm better than anyone. I'm only trying to be better than myself.
Ranting about it most likely helps, because I'll probably never talk about this directly to the Roommate. Because, as I said. I don't like to make waves.
----------------------------End Rant the First
In other news, my girlfriend went on vacation a week ago, she should be back on Wednesday, perhaps Thursday. I am going out of my mind. She will probably be very happy to note that I do, in fact, miss her greatly. I should formulate a plan on how to best express this and welcome her back when she returns.
If... Oh yes, I am also worried that all sorts of bad things will happen to her on this vacation. My mind is hardly set at ease by the fact that she told me she would be sending a postcard every day of her trip, and a week has gone by, and the first one has yet to arrive. What is the mail service doing? Walking it up from Guatemala?
Speaking of my girlfriend, I had some thoughts awhile back about a journal belonging to a person I know online. Since the post I am responding to with these thoughts is horribly outdated, I thought I would post these thoughts into my own journal, thereby only polluting my own space or something. Anyway, even though this is out of date for even myself now, I feel that I should post it anyway, if only because said person told me to post it already. Words of wisdom or complete idealistic crapfest? You decide.
( Note: I originally had my girlfriend's name in there, I decided to take it out, hence the []'s )
"The qualities you described in what can only be described as the "'perfect' gamery chick" are in my experience ( which is but a fraction of yours, but I'll speak on anyway... ) and conjecture, in rather limited supply. The chances of finding someone with all these qualities who is both not presently involved and likely to pursue a relationship with you ( proverbial you, you-you, me-you, any-you ) are pretty slim. More like none. But then, you already knew that. However, I am pretty sure that someone with a good combination of some of these qualities ( with perhaps some qualities that are not so good, but in the end do not overpower the good ones ) does exist. I found this for myself in [my girlfriend]. She is a great person, intelligent, enjoys games, among other things. She's not without flaws however. For one, she can't DDR to save her life. ( I'm only one of those 4 footer at best guys though, 5 if I’m lucky, so who am I to talk? ) For two, she isn't that good at playing most other types of games either... She needs to relax a bit. Still, I wouldn't trade her for the world, as they say."
And I did not even go into anything beyond gaming. So, is this relevant to his issues at all? Now, probably not. This was quite old when I first had the idea to respond to it quite awhile ago. Was it even relevant back then? I don't know, I'll stop second guessing now and wait responses or whatever.
current mood: ::Shrug::
current music: I think it's called "Tunak Tun"... kinda catchy.
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| Saturday, February 14th, 2004
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5:19 am - Random Stuff...
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Well, tomorrow is one of those days that some people love and other people hate. Depending on thier circumstances.
My circumstances lean towards tomorrow being a good day.
I know what the date up there says... but it's not true for me till I go to sleep and wake up after having slept.
And therin is another interesting issue.
I seem to be sleeping less and less. I am posting this, instead of having already gotten a few hours sleep, because I am not tired.
What is wrong with me? I am going to see her in a few hours, I don't want to fall asleep during what is supposed to be a special time.
But, here I am. Making this post, maybe the tiredness will creep in soon... Maybe it is as I write... Maybe I can grab a few hours of sleep and pull the day off.
But dammit tomorrow is not a class day, I should not deal with it as such.
Oh yes, I deal with class that way. This week I've gone with 1-2 hours of sleep, going to bed at around 7 and leaving for class at 9.
I have not eaten breakfast in weeks.
Lunch has been skipped as well.
I just don't feel all that hungry. And for breakfast? Who has time when I wake up at 9 and have to be at class at 10:30, my college being a ride on the subway away.
I burned my arm today ( That's yesterday to you ) on the door to the toaster oven.
It's been almost two months since I RPed. I blame class, but that is only part of the reason. I just... have not been "into it" lately. If it was'nt for a single RP on a message board that I visit, I'd have been dead to the RPing world.
Thinking about some things makes me feel empty or dead inside.
I'm rambling when I should be sleeping. The sun will be coming up soon.
Likely I'll have 5 hours of sleep at best... If I go now.
Nope, still here. This is probably going to look fucking insane to anyone reading this.
Oh well... It's been so long since I've updated last that anyone who did read this has probably lost interest long ago.
Ok. For real now. I'm going to sleep. Now. Right now. Yes now. Going. Sleep. I'm gonna hit post and walk away. And get in bed.
I should be doing so by now.
Dammit! What the hell is wrong with me? It's 5:37 a.m.! By this time I should be at least nodding off... Why the hell am I so awake? I'm gonna pay for this later I know it. And I don't want to. But if I go to bed... will I just wind up laying awake for awhile... nodding off for 10 minute stretches at best like last night? ( The Night before to you )
...
Man this is going to be a long and wierd post.
I should post now and stop this nonsense.
It's 5:41 already... I need to stop.
Why am I awake? Everyone I know that I would think of talking to is asleep, and in most cases has been asleep for a LONG time.
Ok, so there is one person. Spent a bit of time talking about How I don't want to wind up passing out tomorrow.
Which I will do if I don't get to sleep. Damn, 5:51 already...
Well, my eyes are getting a bit droopy... That's a good sign... Maybe I can hit post and walk away.
Maybe...
5:53...
G'night everyone.
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| Saturday, January 10th, 2004
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8:57 pm
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Here it is. The Fourth Anniversary of the worst day of my life...
Four years ago. The person that I cared the most about, left me forever.
I can not call her, there are no phones where she is.
I can not write her, the mail does not go there.
I can do nothing...
Just like four years ago.
When Mom died.
I tried to just let this day go by... just sleep through it... I don't want to feel it all again... But I had to wake up... I did a good job of distracting myself, until a short while ago... There is no stopping the tears, or the guilt.
You see, my mother was not old, she had no terminal illness, what could it have been then?
Four years ago, my mother came home ( from who knows where ), told me she was tired, and went to bed...
She never woke up...
If I were not so oblivious, I might have been able to save her... 911 might have done something... But my little bro and I were sure she was just sleeping in like always... Even if it was a bit later than usual...
I want this day to end...
I want her back... Facing the world on my own is getting to be too much...
She is probably happier where she is...
So which of us is more selfish? Her for going, or me for wanting her to stay?
So many things bouncing around in my head...
I knew this day was coming, it always does... and it gets worse every time...
Sometimes I even think that she might still be alive... somewhere out there... wishing my brother and I well... Biding her time until we can stand on our own two feet, thinking we are better off without her...
I think that one day I will turn a corner and see her... I even think about the conversation we would have...
But despite this hope, I have to face that she is gone...
People keep on dying, and I keep on living... This is Mom's day... but my Grandmother is gone as well... The people that I care about most are leaving...
This is some of my pain, I sometimes wonder what was Mom's.
I often feel like I was some part of it... People tell me it was not my fault... Part of me accepts that she made a choice... That it was just her decision and no one was at fault... Or maybe I just say that to people so that they can feel satisfied that they have helped me...
I wonder if my brother feels the same way...
Four years ago... Mom died...
Oblivious, my brother and I played our games...
I still blame myself...
current mood: Pain... it will never go away.
current music: FFVI: Dark World... I played this back then too...
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| Saturday, January 3rd, 2004
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3:02 pm - College!
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This is a continuation of stuff that was said here. It's that part of me wanting to organize things again.
As I mentioned earlier, classes start again on monday. So back I go to college. Except I am not really going much of anywhere. I feel like I am already working a job. I go in, punch the clock, take my classes and go home. Where is this fun I kept hearing about? It could be that I am just too nervous and shy too say much, it could be my own fault. But there is nothing out there that indicates I'll find anything interesting if I stick around. My girlfriend and I ( yep, there is some good in my life ), went to a few events. Or rather the beginnings of the events. After sitting for a half hour, listening to loud music grow ever louder, and the migraines grow ever more pronounced ( perhaps we are too old? ), my girlfriend ( who was the one who had wanted us to go in the first place ), practically begged to leave. So, after another 15 minutes or so, we left. Offer of free food or no, we left. Our eardrums thanked us later, after the ringing stopped. That event was not even motivated by any one interest, it was a "party" put on by the faculty, the president ( not the student one ) of the school was even going to be there. Fun fun fun....
I wonder if anyone at LaGuardia has even heard of Mao. If I were to make some friends there, I would love to teach them, unfortunately, I only know enough about the game to play badly, ( which is not necessarily a bad thing, when it comes to Mao. ) and playing badly does not qualify one to teach the game. I don't know enough. Although I do know that I would'nt exactly teach it either... that would be explaining ::draws a card::.
current mood: Blah
current music: The whirr of the computer fan
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| Friday, January 2nd, 2004
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1:24 am - It might well *still* be all in my head
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Sequels are never as good as the originals they say, but who are they to talk?
Here is part two:
I neglected to mention some things, in my previous post. This was due to a part of me saying "This is long enough, no one is going to read this much, people will probably stop at half of what you have already!"
That part won.
But here is the rematch.
In reference to the two groups I mentioned. It is true, that I often feel out of place among them. But moreso the first ( Nobility ), than the second ( Genius ). Anyone who has ever read The Great Gatsby will understand exactly what I mean when I say that I feel like Nick Carraway. Always watching the events unfold around him, not really taking a part. Certainly I have lines, but they are mere pleasantries, mere-er still, than the pleasantries with which the nobility would communicate, because there is no secret code behind it.
This is what I meant when I spoke of the air of the "contented soul," although Nick is hardly contented. He only seems that way. Because he has no vested interest in the events he witnesses. And I suppose I really have no vested interest in the comings and goings of the "nobility" either. It is another world.
Keep in mind that I think them all good people, and have no problem with them. They certainly seem to have no problem with me. Who could have a problem with the quiet Nick Carraway, when so much else is going on? So many other more interesting things?
Which brings me to the second group. The genus of genius you might say. With this group I can feel somewhat more at ease. And when the two groups are in the same place ( although you can still find the clear distinction of where one ends and the other begins ), I will almost invariably choose to associate with members this latter group. Nonsense is alot easier to deal with than social chess. And humor is my own safety net, so I suppose this group speaks my language. Or at least, a dialect closer to my own than the Nobility.
And facing a choice of only one group being present, I will certainly choose this group of Genius. Though I bear ill will to none. I just breathe easier around this group.
This is made apparent to me by two recent gatherings.
One of which was a small gathering, at my 11 year friend's house. Two more people showed up, not one a noble. It was an amazingly fun time. I hardly had time to feel out of place. Although the fact that it was such a small gathering helped things. I know my limits, I prefer small gatherings to large ones.
New years, was a different story. At first there was only this small group from the first gathering I mentioned. It was a fun time again. But then, a noble showed up. I stifled any impulse to say anything. But I must say that I thought I heard an audible "whoosh" as the fun drained out, and "propriety" drained in. Perhaps it was because this was one of the more... flamboyant ( perhaps due in part ( hell, in all? ) to being the only female of the group ( that I know at least ).
It was still fun, don't get me wrong. But something of the lighthearted and carefree air seemed to be gone.
( Perhaps that is a more apropos term for the second group: "lighthearted" or "carefree" rather than Genius. I was thinking of one person in particular when I came up with the first name, and... I don't think it allows for many others to be included. "Nonconformists, of which may include Geniuses" or "Nonconformists" for short There we go. )
So the Nobility and The Nonconformists congealed into their own clusters. And I fluctuated between them.
And looking back, I think I noticed something else, my 11 year friend, was really a part of both groups. Favoring the first if there needed to be a choice.
Oftentimes I look over my life, and measure myself against the successes of others. I used to think the two of us were very similar. And I look at how our paths diverged. And how he became something better than I.
This friend has gone to a good high school, and is now almost finished with college.
Another friend of mine, who went to the same nothing of a high school that I attended ( more on this perhaps at a later post ) is well on his way to getting a degree from NYU.
While I, am beginning to whittle away a two year degree from a community college at age 21. I am older than both of them, and I am so far behind...
( That part of me says "That should go in a seperate post!" That part lost this round. )
current mood: Self-Loathing
current music: Something you will not find ever.
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| Thursday, January 1st, 2004
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5:31 pm - It's probably "all in my head" or something, right? Yeah...
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So, today is the beginning of the New Year, with new possibilities, and everything that goes with it.
Class is starting on Monday.
So, I have been spending alot of time on the computer, with this group of online folks, good people, most of em. I guess. I even met some of them in person...
But I don't know... I sometimes feel like I'm not really a part of that group. Like everyone to differing extents is just humoring me. Wondering when I'll finally leave so they can get back to what they were really doing.
So for the past week or so, I've not been around them.
Partly due to Christmas time, I'll admit. But only partly. I went from my aunt's house to a friend of mine's house. He's been a friend of mine for a long time, I'd say nearing at least 11 years.
We went to the same primary school, all those years ago. But then, I went one way, and he went another. I still think him my best friend. I've met the friends he met while going to his school. I get along with them alright enough. Some better than others. But still, that feeling comes in.
I often feel out of place among these friends. For differing reasons.
For some, it is because I feel as if I were some backwoods rube sporting overalls and a flannel shirt (either one possibly stained with manure) that wandered into a high society social gathering, replete with nobility of a fashion.
For others, it is because I feel like I am speaking to pure unfettered genius, of which I can only hope to understand the periphery of a statement, never the heart.
But I don't let this stop me from putting on the aura of a contented soul, a person who, while not exactly at home, is certainly not lost. Congenial to a fault, I let humor be my machete, cutting through the jungles of social interaction. Just get me to the heliport so I can go home please.
So, have I gotten anywhere? I seem to have gone from one den of social awkwardness to another. At least in person I can use my humor to its fullest effect, and a friend of 11 years is a rather good reassurance that I am not truly in the wrong place.
current mood: Self-loathing
current music: None
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4:53 pm - Happy New Year
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Perhaps my New Year's resolution should be to use this journal more. Perhaps I should just do that instead of resolving to do it. Since New Year's resolutions tend to not come to fruition. More to come later. I don't want to exhaust the wellspring so soon.
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| Friday, October 24th, 2003
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4:16 am - ::Cleans off the dust::
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Whoa... have'nt been here in awhile... what with... distractions happening...
Work's been over for awhile. And school has been keeping me quite busy... I'll try to update this more... for all my loyal fans out there ( even if they exist only in my mind ).
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