So after once again drinking and having talked to G about games and the de-evolution of creativity i can't help but feel him and i are the only ones that wish to save video games with our own sense of creativity and that we could save an industry that is slowly dying. I love video games, but even i feel American gaming companies are killing the very industry by caring less about creativity and more concerned about where their next dollar is coming from.
But games are a side project to my life. So after a month's worth of steering my life away from Sarah, i have finally come to a conclusion that i don't miss her. Which in some ways is sad, but there are only so much anyone can have conversations about how much anyone can dislike their mother. I mean, hell, even "Everyone Loves Raymond" only lasted for so many seasons. Don't get me wrong i still love the woman, but it has become that pity sorta of love one has for a battered puppy than a love formed by a man and a women; even if they are only friends. At this point, i'm getting ready to call it quits; i had dinner with her and that was fine, but i'm not a fan of people who capitalize on conversations on how bad their date was over the weekend. Our dinner only lasted for a little less than a hour and 45 minutes was spent of her telling me the faults of the man she volunteered to go on a date with. Half way through her horror stories, i raised my hand, in the national sign of "stop" and said, "Okay, girly, that date is over. You no longer have to relive it. Just be here with me." To which the people sitting behind us heard everything that was going on, because she doesn't seem to have any sense of volume, both giggled and praised me for being the type of man that's not going to be on a "date" to hear the horror story of another date. Of course they didn't say this to me directly and softly tried to speak to each other.
I never thought that such a thing needed praising, but as i get older, the more i see halfway decent men acting like beating puppies just to get some (even though i dislike using this word) pussy; the more i'm less inclined to try for the honey-pots of women and people seem to like this about me. I mean, yes, i'm not the best looking guy on the block, hell on a scale from 1 to 10 i rank a 3, and even though the old saying is "beggars shouldn't be choosers", but i can tell you, i choose not to beg for it. I don't care how gorgeous a women is, if she's a straight up bitch i seriously can't talk to her and i can't make myself believe she's hot.
A co-worker of Mike's, i'll leave her name out because i don't wish to shame her in anyway; was easily the most gorgeous Spanish women i have ever seen and on top of that she was always super sweet and nice to me. But part of me always believed she was nice to me because she understood that i thought she was good looking. One day during a conversation i was having with one of her co-workers she walked in between me and the person i was talking to and said "hi" as if we were he greatest of friend, and i looked at her and said, "Too much makeup." And then continued my conversation with the other person as if she wasn't there. She was apparently upset by my attitude and brought it up to me one day much later. She was polite about the whole thing and said, "So why were you so rude to me (about the day in question)?" And i answered her honestly; "i think you felt it was okay to interrupt a conversation i was having because you think i believe you are hot. And don't get me wrong you are gorgeous, but that gives you no right to be rudely interrupt me when i'm fuckin' talking. If you want to talk to me and i'm currently in the middle of a conversation, wait your frickin' turn."
I found later when Mike was hitting on her and said that she would date him in a second, she answered (i believe she answered ironically and was only trying to piss off Mike) "Sorry, Mike, but i'd date a real man, like William." I doubt she meant a word of this and was only trying to get under Mike's skin, but i have to say this made me feel a small bit of pride. Like there are still people out there that can still deal with plain and brutal honesty.
It's one of my greatest faults and many have spoken down to my honesty when it comes to women, but the more girls i meet the more that say, i wish a men were more honest and the more i'm honest the more they say they could meet a nice guy. And the more i hear girls say that the more i laugh in their face.
My old roommate Stephanie once said, "I wish i could just once date a man that's a nice guy."
To which i answered: "There are plenty of nice guys out there. But most nice guys are not good looking and let's face it you don't date ugly." And i'm a double whammy, not only am i not that good looking, but i don't bother to be a nice guy. I've played the nice guy role for years and years, the only thing it ever got me was single and many people asking me if i was gay. As soon as i stopping being nice no one asked if i was gay.
So be an asshole and have people think you're straight and be hated by most girls for being mean, or be nice and be mistaken for being a homosexual. Jesus Christ, do i dislike relationships. But i think my dad said it best once he learned i was doing P90-X; "Don't worry, Bill, once all the weight is off it doesn't matter how you act, when you're good looking by the majorities standards everything you do will be endearing. But do yourself a favor, don't you change one fuckin' bit. Be the muscular guy that still reads and plays video games, if you stay on that path, you'll find a girl worthwhile."
And i'm inclined to believe him, he used to be on the swim team, i've seen pics of him when he was my age he was a very fit man, i mean muscles for days and he has always been a nerd at heart and his (second) marriage has lasted him a goodly amount of time. Which in someways is reassuring, but i still can't help but feel that i'm just not meant to be in a relationship. Even more so now, that i feel that i'll be moving in like 2 to 3 years to a totally different country.
So once again, i'll be putting my life on hold before anything of any sort of relationship nature happens. No one right now wants to date my ass, but in the future when i'm getting ready to be ready to move i'll have to say, "Sorry, but i'll be leaving in a little while. I can't shackle myself down before i'm going." Which i think is just a sad excuse for me to make to myself to feel better about being single. I mean, even as drunk and shit faced as i am at this moment, if any women i saw as halfway decent (meaning she's awesome, and intelligent, who gives a shit what she looks like) said she'd like to date me, there's no way i'd say "No." Unless i was a total moron, in which case i probably would.
Sometimes, i believe being a moron will one day save my life as i'm doing something stupid.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
And cue the clapperboard.
I have to say getting friendzoned by a girl....... one would figure by now i'd just get use to that fuckin' play.
It's screenwriting 101, it's as predictable as a movie with a dog in it. By the end it's going to die.
It's the same setting, same main character, different female lead, all the set pieces are in place, the actors are on time and sober, the lighting is working, up goes the curtain, the music flows into the auditorium and it's the same play you saw last year, and the year before that, and before that, and before. So why keep going and wasting your time and money?
It's a question i keep asking myself. I'm not lonely, nor do i feel alone, and i don't hate the girls that have friendzoned me, hell a few (if not all) i'm still on friendly terms with and in some cases we still hang out. I'm an adult i don't hate the women themselves; hell i know sometimes people can't help who they don't like no matter how nice the other person is. It's just human.
But now after close to 7 years, i'm really starting to take inventory and am seriously wondering what it is i'm doing wrong. I'm not an asshole (some people say that is part of my problem), well not to the girls i like, but then again i have moments of sheer asshole-ness.
You know, what? Fuck this. Writing this shit out...sober, it's just a whinny waste of my time. Sure, i get a little upset from being friendzoned, but it's not the first time and i'm sure it won't be the last. I'll just keep going, no one ever won anything quitting halfway through.
It's screenwriting 101, it's as predictable as a movie with a dog in it. By the end it's going to die.
It's the same setting, same main character, different female lead, all the set pieces are in place, the actors are on time and sober, the lighting is working, up goes the curtain, the music flows into the auditorium and it's the same play you saw last year, and the year before that, and before that, and before. So why keep going and wasting your time and money?
It's a question i keep asking myself. I'm not lonely, nor do i feel alone, and i don't hate the girls that have friendzoned me, hell a few (if not all) i'm still on friendly terms with and in some cases we still hang out. I'm an adult i don't hate the women themselves; hell i know sometimes people can't help who they don't like no matter how nice the other person is. It's just human.
But now after close to 7 years, i'm really starting to take inventory and am seriously wondering what it is i'm doing wrong. I'm not an asshole (some people say that is part of my problem), well not to the girls i like, but then again i have moments of sheer asshole-ness.
You know, what? Fuck this. Writing this shit out...sober, it's just a whinny waste of my time. Sure, i get a little upset from being friendzoned, but it's not the first time and i'm sure it won't be the last. I'll just keep going, no one ever won anything quitting halfway through.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The heart's fury.
2012, easily the best beginning i've had to a year in a long, long time. Got laid for the first time in a well let's just say for a long while. I finally have a clear view of what i wish to do; in the career market that is, and i've started P90-X.
But with all this self improvement bullshit going on, other area's have taken a huge hit. Call it collateral damage to the soon to be re-formed making of a new (but i wouldn't say "improved") Me. Area's that have taken a major hit are: money, my writing, video games and my reading. Luckily, my enjoyment hasn't truly wavered. I won't say that i'm happy, but there is a sense of gladness. Even if it's constantly being beaten down not only at my own apprehension of having a natural smile, but the worry for a friend who nearly decided to take his own life. I've been scared, and i've been worried, but never has it been intense.
After getting insanely drunk and playing some music that i thought would help my deeply hidden articulate being finally reveal itself, i wrote this letter to my friend:
"Even with the delicate mixture of brotherly love, father like protection and the over all warm stillness of a heart flooding with admiration, i truly can't find the right words to say in regards of the courage, testicular fortitude and determined recovery that i've seen in you these past few years. The character you've displayed pains me with knowing how cowardly i've been and how selfish i am.
I will confess that i've written off most of what i've heard from you and seen on your facebook (before your hospitalization) as longingly over the top Emo bullcrap. But the 360 my mind took when you came down that day is one i wont be forgetting for a long time. Nothing in my life so far has made me reel back so mentally that i actually lost what to think, say, or even find a spark of humor in the situation. The real William, sat there those five minutes; as raw, as forthcoming, as quiet and fearful as he could be, wondering what was going to happen to his life and by extension of his friend. With the devastating wake up call that exploded in the place behind my eyes, all i could manage was a vague and nearly meaningless nod of my head, to represent that i was there and listening. But that was all i could manage.
There is a pride that i have, a small piece; if it were to manifest itself into an object most would see a small shard of broken glass, but to me it's a reflection of the mirror that was once my youth and if tilted in the correct light would reveal my one special piece of pride: having the right mindset to befriend someone who treated me so badly that first day, of not giving up and making myself known to someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with me. It's pride the first and nearly that last time i can recall that my character as a selfish, loud mouth, S.O.B managed to pay out of once. And that decision to make you be my friend has payed back ten fold over the years. It's a decision i have yet to regret. If things continue to progress as they have over the last ten years, then i don't see my decision that day as a bad one.
There isn't much i can say that life will get better; that at the end is all the wealth and well deserved things good people get to collect at the hard, jagged path of living, but i can say i've seen the uselessness of what most call life. And if everything i've witness through my years has taught me is: there is no grand prize at the end, you don't pass go, you don't collect $200. You sleep and the universe continues....the end.
Life, love, loathing, playing, reading, tv, and all that we let ourselves believe to be living is a joke. Worst yet is it's a joke with no punchline. But i'll be damned if i'm going to let the joke run it's course on me. I plan to see it through and hope upon hope that death takes me long after i've wished for it. I plan to fight till the very damned end of the little flame that is my life whispers out. I don't know your plans of the next few years, fuck, i don't even know my own, but i do know that i don't want two things: 1) i don't want to toss you platitudes believing you'll just be/feel/know you're better than the person you think you are. 2) that my life could have been more fulfilling and richer IF you were there.
I fucking hate platitudes they are the dismal hand finisher of a fantastic blowjob. Unlike most of the people you know i can hold a fuckin' conversation with out lazy, catchy words and be as real as i feel is needed during any conversation. You are better than you believe and i know that my life has been richer from you living and it has continued to prove that over and over when you start another year of life. I have thought many times of the big bow out. To collect the last of the applause, smile, wave goodbye, walk off the stage and disappear into obscurity. Few things have kept this bag of bile and bones moving along, and if i were to itemize the list of things that tie me to this earth your name would be there, right between "have sex one more time" and "see how far video games will advance".
We have much more wine to drink my friend, there are conversation to be had and plenty more meals to be consumed together as friends, as family, as brothers. It's going to get harder here on out, but i will swear to any deity you love that i will do my damnest to prove to you that life is to be admired for it's obscurity as much as it's uselessness. Each day you live, is proof of growth, proof that you are mightier than you believe you are. That you fight which is truly meaningless, to prove that nothing in the long run can fault you. As a brother i will stand to see it through.
You are loved. It may not be the kind you wish, but it's there."
After i sobered up, i found that on my computer with a little box indicating that the person had received it. My words in that letter might not seem like anything to you, but to me, those words are ME. I have never spoken that plainly before. Not to a friend, or my parents or even in my own writing. Those paragraphs above are the fear-filled me, there is no hubris in my words, just the plain and very real fear of losing. The loss of the person i think is myself, my friend, my beliefs on what is and is not. I'm scared. All in all, when it comes down to it, i'm scared. But my fear doesn't have a name or at least i don't know what to call it.
i wish to make 2012 the year i no longer exist. To take the William i know, the one i both hate and love and see if i can't make him into something.....else. I don't know what, but i just want to be me but something, else. Something, just more. No more wishing, no more pretending. It's time to do. And i started it by: when people ask me to go somewhere, i no longer say "no". i groan and then follow along. So far i've gotten drunk for free and had a blast, met a few nice people, and rediscovered my love for specialty grocery stores and have been working out. My fear grows because i don't know what kind of person i'll be at the end of this. I just hope he doesn't regret the me that exists now.
I think i'm done drinking. So no more writing for now.
But with all this self improvement bullshit going on, other area's have taken a huge hit. Call it collateral damage to the soon to be re-formed making of a new (but i wouldn't say "improved") Me. Area's that have taken a major hit are: money, my writing, video games and my reading. Luckily, my enjoyment hasn't truly wavered. I won't say that i'm happy, but there is a sense of gladness. Even if it's constantly being beaten down not only at my own apprehension of having a natural smile, but the worry for a friend who nearly decided to take his own life. I've been scared, and i've been worried, but never has it been intense.
After getting insanely drunk and playing some music that i thought would help my deeply hidden articulate being finally reveal itself, i wrote this letter to my friend:
"Even with the delicate mixture of brotherly love, father like protection and the over all warm stillness of a heart flooding with admiration, i truly can't find the right words to say in regards of the courage, testicular fortitude and determined recovery that i've seen in you these past few years. The character you've displayed pains me with knowing how cowardly i've been and how selfish i am.
I will confess that i've written off most of what i've heard from you and seen on your facebook (before your hospitalization) as longingly over the top Emo bullcrap. But the 360 my mind took when you came down that day is one i wont be forgetting for a long time. Nothing in my life so far has made me reel back so mentally that i actually lost what to think, say, or even find a spark of humor in the situation. The real William, sat there those five minutes; as raw, as forthcoming, as quiet and fearful as he could be, wondering what was going to happen to his life and by extension of his friend. With the devastating wake up call that exploded in the place behind my eyes, all i could manage was a vague and nearly meaningless nod of my head, to represent that i was there and listening. But that was all i could manage.
There is a pride that i have, a small piece; if it were to manifest itself into an object most would see a small shard of broken glass, but to me it's a reflection of the mirror that was once my youth and if tilted in the correct light would reveal my one special piece of pride: having the right mindset to befriend someone who treated me so badly that first day, of not giving up and making myself known to someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with me. It's pride the first and nearly that last time i can recall that my character as a selfish, loud mouth, S.O.B managed to pay out of once. And that decision to make you be my friend has payed back ten fold over the years. It's a decision i have yet to regret. If things continue to progress as they have over the last ten years, then i don't see my decision that day as a bad one.
There isn't much i can say that life will get better; that at the end is all the wealth and well deserved things good people get to collect at the hard, jagged path of living, but i can say i've seen the uselessness of what most call life. And if everything i've witness through my years has taught me is: there is no grand prize at the end, you don't pass go, you don't collect $200. You sleep and the universe continues....the end.
Life, love, loathing, playing, reading, tv, and all that we let ourselves believe to be living is a joke. Worst yet is it's a joke with no punchline. But i'll be damned if i'm going to let the joke run it's course on me. I plan to see it through and hope upon hope that death takes me long after i've wished for it. I plan to fight till the very damned end of the little flame that is my life whispers out. I don't know your plans of the next few years, fuck, i don't even know my own, but i do know that i don't want two things: 1) i don't want to toss you platitudes believing you'll just be/feel/know you're better than the person you think you are. 2) that my life could have been more fulfilling and richer IF you were there.
I fucking hate platitudes they are the dismal hand finisher of a fantastic blowjob. Unlike most of the people you know i can hold a fuckin' conversation with out lazy, catchy words and be as real as i feel is needed during any conversation. You are better than you believe and i know that my life has been richer from you living and it has continued to prove that over and over when you start another year of life. I have thought many times of the big bow out. To collect the last of the applause, smile, wave goodbye, walk off the stage and disappear into obscurity. Few things have kept this bag of bile and bones moving along, and if i were to itemize the list of things that tie me to this earth your name would be there, right between "have sex one more time" and "see how far video games will advance".
We have much more wine to drink my friend, there are conversation to be had and plenty more meals to be consumed together as friends, as family, as brothers. It's going to get harder here on out, but i will swear to any deity you love that i will do my damnest to prove to you that life is to be admired for it's obscurity as much as it's uselessness. Each day you live, is proof of growth, proof that you are mightier than you believe you are. That you fight which is truly meaningless, to prove that nothing in the long run can fault you. As a brother i will stand to see it through.
You are loved. It may not be the kind you wish, but it's there."
After i sobered up, i found that on my computer with a little box indicating that the person had received it. My words in that letter might not seem like anything to you, but to me, those words are ME. I have never spoken that plainly before. Not to a friend, or my parents or even in my own writing. Those paragraphs above are the fear-filled me, there is no hubris in my words, just the plain and very real fear of losing. The loss of the person i think is myself, my friend, my beliefs on what is and is not. I'm scared. All in all, when it comes down to it, i'm scared. But my fear doesn't have a name or at least i don't know what to call it.
i wish to make 2012 the year i no longer exist. To take the William i know, the one i both hate and love and see if i can't make him into something.....else. I don't know what, but i just want to be me but something, else. Something, just more. No more wishing, no more pretending. It's time to do. And i started it by: when people ask me to go somewhere, i no longer say "no". i groan and then follow along. So far i've gotten drunk for free and had a blast, met a few nice people, and rediscovered my love for specialty grocery stores and have been working out. My fear grows because i don't know what kind of person i'll be at the end of this. I just hope he doesn't regret the me that exists now.
I think i'm done drinking. So no more writing for now.
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.
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.
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.
Encouragement.
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.
"Irene."
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.
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.
Encouragement.
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.
"Irene."
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?
No.
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.
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?
No.
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.
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