Friday, December 2, 2011

Later than i thought.

A month. Over a month, since i last came here and wrote something, anything worth saying. A month full of the same thing, a month full of running round going only there and back. Except for one i left the trail and ended up outside of my usual grind:

A friend of mine had some leave from the Navy and came all the way from Virginia and decided to crash at my place for awhile, it was pretty nice to see him. We went to San Francisco to eat at our favorite sushi place, but just like the last two times we went they were closed once again for the holidays, so we went to our new stand by sushi place and ordered some udon. Stopped by the Fireside bar down the street from there and i got pretty tipsy. The bartender made me a screwdriver that was 2/3 vodka and then a splash of orange juice then only charged me half-price, gave me a free shot of my choice. By the time we were on Bart heading home, my tipsy nature turned toward tired and i fell asleep.

On the way home he warned me we had to head to Stockton and sign a few papers for his lawyer. To finalize the beginning stages of his divorce from my best-friend/ex-girl friend. He said he was sorry, but i shrugged and shook my head, "Don't worry about it."

"I just feel bad that it came to this, you know?" He said when the lawyer stepped away to get something from a file in the next room.

"At least it's a movement forward," i said and continued to stand over by the window. I thought about their (i can't really call it a relationship, it was more like they were just existing with each other) for the last two months and i thought about how this was long over due. I love them both, but i disliked his hesitation to call off the marriage because of the lingering feels he had, when it was obvious it wasn't mutual and i really hated her indecisiveness to get a divorce because of her religious obligations. But how are you going to be married but emotionally separated and have a boyfriend? In our last phone conversation i mentioned "having her cake and eating it too", which she wasn't totally happy about. But i let her anger slid past because she only calls me by that nickname of hers' when she's mad at me but knows i'm right.

From the lawyers back home, he asked of my own relationship status which i only shrugged. I thought about telling him of my dealings with Sarah, but even in my head the situation there read like a high school drama play, acted by people taking themselves far too seriously. Plus, even if the man is my friend he's not one i enjoy speaking to about my problems; all his answers come out from a region i'm not familiar with. We are talking about a semi-womanizing, self-important, nice guy opposing as an asshole and vice versa, soon to be divorcee, giving advice to a directionless, unsympathetic, humanitarian misanthrope, idiot, who's only real redeeming quality is he can only speak the truth, no matter how harsh, even more so when it's about himself. It's just not a mixture for good planning. So i decided to keep it to myself and said, "Nothing, on the horizon. And probably won't be for a long time."

"Why not?" he said switching the radio station again.

I thought about switching the subject, but in my personalized sorta of way, where i'm making it perfectly clear that i'm not trying to sneakingly pass this conversation, but blatantly refusing to talk about it, in a polite manner. I thought about giving the "jar a few pennies", a saying i once heard from someone far older and wiser, meaning: giving a little but not all. I also thought about saying what i always think when i hear people break up; this was the choice i went with, "Because i don't see the point. I'm only sorta happy with my life, things could be better, but they could be a whole fuck-ton worse. I have clothes on my back, a roof over my head, food in my stomach and i live with some of the greatest people i know. And yet somehow, somehow, i'm still slightly unhappy. My unhappiness is selfish and moronic, and it pisses me off that even though i know all that, i still can't help but feel that way. And i want to drag someone else into this miserable bullshit that is, not just my life, but at it's very core: me. Yeah, no thanks. Putting another person in the position of lead designer of my happiness is not fair and pretty damn stupid if you ask me. Making one person the sole source of ones happiness, that's just pathetic and not to mention a huge burden for that person."

I took a deep breath and stared forward having realized that much of what i said probably struck home for him. We both knew i just criticized several things he had done. But i wasn't afraid that he'd yell at me, i've heard him yell before and he had nothing on my father, or my grandfather for that matter. But instead he nodded and said, "Yeah, that's true."

Later that week, i got drunk with my roommates and stole a street sign like we were teenagers. I played wingman for one of my roommates as best i could and dismissed Sarah's when she got mad at me for not answering when she said she missed me. "He snores so loud. He wasn't going anything wrong. Just felt like i was gonna scream so i left and went home. And i miss you."

"Yeah, hearing someone snore for a long time is pretty annoying. Miss me, why? It's not like i'm that interesting. I work and then play video games, what's there to miss?" i said with a little laugh.

"Damn it. For ONCE could you just say you miss miss me back? I haven't seen you in a long time," she said folding her arms, playing the part of a disapproving mother.

It's been a week, i thought about saying. What came out of my mouth was: "But saying it after being told to say it kinda cheapens the sentiment behind it."

She nodded, "Yeah, it kinda does."

2012 is going to be a long year.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

My writing really does come in waves; as cliched as it sounds. At the beginning of 2011 i couldn't stop myself from writing, there were times i had to fight my urge to get up from bed and start pounding away on the typewriter. But now, i have to fight each and every paragraph to help my sad little stories chug along in some sorta of pathetic progression.

I think any form of art is a work. But as a writer i feel little pride in things i really had to fight for to make sense to someone else. In painting i think any sort of abstractedness can be named art if given the right name. In writing if your words are not precise, in spelling or grammar or other sorts of error you can easily be named a failure.

Jackson Pollack had no qualms about making painting as easy as it can get. But there is no substitute for awfulness when it comes to writing. There is no Jackson Pollack when it comes to words.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Faith's Diversion

Luck. Never had it.

I'm not talking about big luck, like prize winning or the finishing the perfect game in whatever sport. I'm talking about the little things that just add up: such as walking down the street to get a ride from a friend but get caught in the rain on the way there. Or the one time i can't park in the drive way so i had park it in front of a house, turned out that the resident of said house was a police officer who noticed my tags were out so he had it towed. The beginning stages of dating a girl who is not only intelligent, witty and all the other cliche things men say when they don't know enough words to describe a girl who's indescribable; only to have the relationship fail when the beginning of vacations and neither have a way to see the other.

That last example is some where in the range of ten years ago, but hey, things that sting the heart still sting. Less so, but it nags near morning after a night of terrible drinking.

But as luck would have it, one of the rarest of gems finally showed itself to me.


An unprovoked, unforeseen and unlikely friend spoke up (out of turn, i might add) about my current style of living: "So you have no girlfriend, little money, no car, but live in a big ass house with three of your greatest friends and you don't do shit with your time?! Plus, no kids and you don't travel? Look, idiot, but look around you. This should be better, you should be better. There is a greater life than this." To which he added a black licorice liquor burp into my face. "Now have a beer. Live it up."

One day i'm going to disappoint that man very much. But for now, i'll do my best to keep his poisoned tongue out of my ear by making him eat those words: "you don't do shit with your time."

And Sarah....... That girl. It will forever be a mystery as to why she worries about me so damn much. I received a stern worded text from her that once i head to Japan that i must let her know when i'm leaving, to maintain some sort of communication open at all times and that she has a right to visit me when she can. I informed her that my leaving wouldn't happen for another year or 2. When i asked her why was she panicking at something that might not happen at all; she responded: "When stressed or dealing with a problem you don't know how to handle you become extremely introverted. And moving for you is one of those situations."

"Says who?" I with a doubt-filled raised eyebrow.


Ah yes, Irene. Another unfortunate women to be branded with being both my best friend and ex-girlfriend, and who apparently to the few women in my life is appointed "the be all, end all, to all things Me." In other words if one of the girls are perplexed by something i said or did, they go to her to find out why. She's the one person besides myself that seems to know more about me than i do.

So when i introduced Sarah's sightings to Irene and asked if it was true: "Are you fuckin' kidding me? You're damn right it's true. That's 101. Anyone that tries to befriend you or is beginning to love you that is one of the first things they learn. Besides you're very stoic and quiet to people you don't know, but as soon as you find common ground you open up, that you're a comedy snob. And the things you hate will continue to be hated until they can be presented in an interesting way to you."

So as luck would have it, i'm better known than i thought. Somehow i don't like it. But it makes me smile all the same.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Born into this.

As a sad sack of shit, i can't help but notice the listlessness my life has taken with little indication that i would enjoy such a direction. It seemed one day as i was playing around and truly enjoying things, and it took someone with the correct word usage to have me turn around and put a retrospective eye to my recent activities that i noticed the childish mucking about that i was doing.

Damn women.

Why is it every time i think i'm having fun; it's a girl that taps me on the shoulder that warns me on my own behavior that makes me reflect on my actions? No one else seems to mind, all the people i was with before encourage such things. If it were any girl, other than the few i respect enough to pay attention to, to be the one to point out my faults i would've ignored them out right and continued on my way, as merrily as ever. But no it had to be the one damn women in my life (besides my mother) that has to point out the uselessness of my current life style.

Although i wish to blame her for causing me such problems, i know for a fact that i can't. What exactly have i been going these last 6 years besides work? I mean sure my job now can offer no such plan to help me carry on high through the ranks, nor can it help me finally obtain medical coverage, but i'm helping people with mental handicaps; as hard as it is something i like the guys with schizophrenia at my work. Is this where i imaged i would be some seven years ago as a fledgling 21 year old?


But it is here within these sad little pages that i plan to chronically document my pointless little existence  far away from facebook where my humor shines brighter than it ever will, from my parents and my friends. It is here as i plan my new job far before it will begin. Far before i have spoken to my father about it, and even farther than i have speaking to my friends/roommates about my current goal. My goal of finally obtaining my English degree and teaching it to kids in Japan.

I feel like Sam Beckett waking up in someone else life and noticing how crappy it is, and now i have to fix it.

Oh Boy.