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I sure do like tea. Cold tea, preferably. Hot tea is not my cup of... tea. O.o (That was just.. lame. Perhaps that's why I had to say it...?) There's something about tea that no other drink has. There's a certain feel you get when you drink it. I'm sure this feeling is different for everyone. What do I feel when I get it, you wonder? I'd rather not categorize or define it. If I did, words would then limit that feeling that I get, and somewhat ruin it for me. Some things are too valuable to verbally express.. one can only feel it, appreciate it, admire and embrace it... if they truly mean to value it. Could not the same thing be said about all important things in life?
No... one could not... because importance is a matter of opinion. That's what makes this all so beautiful, no? What good would anything be if it couldn't be ruined? That's why we take for granted the things that are immortal (or seem immortal) in this world. Truth is, nothing is immortal... so while we take it for granted, we slowly destroy it. Then we'll lose it, and we'll appreciate it forever once it's gone. Like... the Earth... and Vincent Van Gogh. Perhaps what's ironic about it is that we need for it to be destroyed if we're ever to appreciate it. Sooooo... the sooner the better! Lets blow up the world.... but we should probably keep a few people alive somehow... or else there'll be no one around to appreciate it.
Something else I sure do like.... this song that I'm listening to. I really do like it. It's so very poetic. It's also scary to people who wouldn't think it poetic. I like that perhaps more than it being poetic in the first place. "I've been with you all day... I'm trying to stay calm... I'm impatient and it's really hard to breathe... I'm going to empty you and fill you with me." These are a few lyrics of this glorious song. "I see you in the dark, I see you all the way. I see you in the light, I see you plain as day. I want touch your face. I want to touch your soul. I want to wear your face. I want to burn your soul." Yes... that's a good part.
I know a lot of boneheads listen to Slipknot. I assume they enjoy it for the savage edge of the music. I new thrash to smash with. A new tool to wrench and twist their lives into oblivion. I, however, cannot enjoy savagery without a sense of awareness and razor-sharp perception. Intelligent viciousness... that truly turns me on. Slipknot is a massive powerhouse of angst, the kind that makes you feel good to clench your fists, and walk down the street.. daring someone to give you a reason to mess them up. Funny enough, I enjoy that, because I know I have that power. It'd be unsafe if you didn't have the power to execute, and still emit this sense of... war.
But, like I said, this is not why I like them. This is just a reason why I like them more. I like Slipknot because of what the lyrics say.. what they mean.. what they don't mean.... or what they could mean to you and me. The lyrics talk a lot about truth, and anti superficiality. What is a nice plus is they claim to "Live the word"... as in.. they live what they play/sing. That's always important for me in the music I listen to.
Well... that was a lovely waste of time. I didn't really mean to talk about Slipknot. I meant to express myself, using Slipknot as a means of doing that. You could replace the word Slipknot for the name of any other band that shares the same base qualities that I've described above. Slipknot is just a band of people I never met, most likely never will, and will never really effect my life in the grand scheme of things.
I said something once.. it was a month or two ago. I asked someone, "If a flower could feel, would it hurt to blossom?" I'm still questioning that. I think it's one of the best inquiries I've ever made. If you feel like it, dear reader... leave me a comment telling me your opinion of what the answer might be. Tell me how you came to that answer.. I need to understand.
Now for a witty ending, no? O.o Well... I, and the way I articulate myself to you through this web journal may be much like fresh road kill (dead and somewhat gruesome, yet without absence of morbid intrigue and juiciness), perhaps it is my fate as a relative of dead, flattened critters is that I can't conjure wit, like the wizard I might unintentionally masquerade myself to be. But what do I know? I'm blinded, and fumbling through these words as I do in most things.
Would life have a meaning if we had that sixth sense of direction? Would there be a meaning if we were meant to know it? O.o If not blinded... then not existing, perhaps.
Ugh.... >.> I'll go now. | | |
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Oh sweet fatigue, it's like an overweight succubus that you find yourself oddly entranced by. I'm currently enthralled by the nightly mistress... she comes for us all eventually, but she's captivated me for most of this day. It has not been a typical day, and although this is true... it is not true that it's been exciting or interesting or appealing to the general sense of intrigue.... O.o
I'm tired, is what I mean to say. I'm overly tired, but I felt it necessary to come here and ration a bit of myself to you tonight. I don't want the things I have to say build up and have another post like the last one. Funny..... how the most interesting things people say is when they have little to say in the first place. Perhaps I'll contemplate this.... at a later time, of course.. due to the beautiful and fat she-demon with little black wings that could never carry her massive form through the sky. I mean... I'm too tired to think too deeply about the idea.... O.o
You know... there's something I think would be good to say right now.. just give me a moment to think of it. My first instinct, as I look around my very small room, is to say something about a woman, or perhaps women... a woman, or women whom I'm attracted to. But within the split second I think that, I think.. "That's not a good idea to talk about that right now. Don't be repetitive. Be interesting." But my reaction to this counter of instinct is, "Well... you should be honest with yourself.. and to be honest, you must not deny your impulses and desires. If you feel like talking about love, at least admit that you feel like it."
I think that's what I just did. I like to think about what I'm writing before completing it. That's my trouble with talking. I can't repeat it to better express what I mean or how I feel. I try sometimes, but by that point.. you've already ruined it, and the lofty essence of precision and interest has already fled from your words, your gestures, your very expressions, and you sit there like a dork... fumbling over what you're trying to say. It's pitiful. I'd feel better about it if someone could look past me fumbling over what I'm trying to say, and just take that "lofty essence of precision and interest" into mind while they still can. I think a person like that could like me a lot... whatever that's supposed to mean O.o
I've realized that I've grown an interest in the people who would/do visit this web journal regularly. They'd either have to be unbelievably bored, or particularly interesting. You have to be an interesting person to be interested in these... oblique paintings on a wall of virtuality. I mean... you'd have to be interesting to be interested in these posts I put up of myself on this web journal. Interesting people are interested in interesting things, or just interested in uninteresting things in an interesting way, no? I could be wrong.. that is just a generalization, which I don't really believe in doing... but I just wanted to sort of make the point of why I am interested in those of you who read this regularly, if anyone does.
How about a topic about reality for a change? Reality? What's that? Well.. that's the world that WE... ALL live in, not just me. The world that does not change based on our opinions or feelings or emotions or worries or fears or well.. you get the idea. The world.
What I meant to talk about was Christmas. Originally the celebration of Jesus's birth. There are a few who still celebrate it for it's original concept, but now's it's turned into something else. We all know what that is. Presents? Partially.... but other things too. I won't blame it ALL on commercialism and greed and avarice and so on, but that is part of it. Anyhow... Christmas is six days away from today. I haven't done a single ounce of Christmas shopping, per the usual >.> I also haven't paid my car payment for the past three months. They keep calling people saying they're going to repossess my car. I lost my car insurance last month. I didn't pay them either. It's not that I didn't have the money. I've had a lot going on in my life. That's not an appropriate excuse, but I don't feel bad for the massive corporate company that didn't get my $571.06 over the past three months.
Christmas... yes.. it's coming. My daughter's first Christmas. She won't care. I only end up liking Christmas on Christmas day. The rest of the time I don't really like it because of the hype, but on Christmas day.. when I'm with my parents and with my Step-father's screwed up family, I get a sense of humor about it all. Life is just... so very comical. I'm able to take a step back from it all... separate myself... since I'm already a separate creature from the rest of them. I realize that we're all just a bumbling fools, bouncing around each other blindly. I'm no better, of course, but I am more perceptive to be able to realize it. At least I acknowledge that I'm blindly frisking my way through life. The excludes me from being a fool. You'd be a fool if you didn't realize you were blind, or if you thought you weren't. So overall.. yes... I really do enjoy Christmas, because I'm with people who are family... not my family, mind you... I don't really have much of that. Just my mother, aunt, brother, step-father and daughter. Although, I should note it took a very long time for me to consider my step-father "family". And my aunt and I are like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly, but are put on opposite sides of the puzzle board. We don't connect, but I know we could. Maybe she doesn't? It doesn't matter... I'll account the losses, and move on in my life in hope for a profit out of all of this ridiculousness called life.
I guess Christmas isn't about celebrating anything to me.... it's just a chance for me to enjoy the reality of socialization and the pitiful tactics that people use to get by in life, as they spew their past month's worth of living to you at the bar in the rec-room in your parent's basement. O.o
Sorta' like what I do to this web journal a few nights a week, heh. Yes... I, too, am blind... but at least I know it. Do you know it? Do you even know what the hell I'm talking about?! >.> What a world... | | |
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Been awhile, hasn't it? But I haven't forgotten about you... my dear audience. My dear reader... I think of you, be you captivated or not... I think of you. I think of this web journal... this... odd, twisted thing that's become my den of obliquity. (Yes.. that is a real word, oddly enough... quite fitting for it's meaning. The quality, depth, or magnitude of being oblique.) For those of you who remember the first few posts I made into this thing, I'm still unsure of what the real reason for all of this is. Perhaps there are too many reasons, they just all combine into one big blurry one. Either way.. I've enjoyed what I've made here, so far. I don't expect to stop enjoying it now, either.
I was thinking of my current situation today. Which situation? One that involves them all... my perception, my values... the way I see everything that's going on around me.. or rather, what's NOT going on around me >.> I also found a nice and tidy way to put my thoughts on the situation into words. "The times of toil and torment seem like times of paradise to the one who lives in the age of emptiness." Maybe you scoff and say, "Ha... Wilhelm.. you are naught but the epitome of pure idiocy." I wouldn't blame you, because it's a complex way of looking at things.
Consider mathematics. Every number is just a measurement, no? A certain "value" away from Zero. Let's just say Zero is nothingness, which is true in all instances. Now consider the good things in your a formula of positive numbers, and the bad things in your life that cause stress negative numbers. The idea of life is not to add these two factors together, and put a "value" or "measurement" on your life... the idea is to simply observe what your values truly are, so that you can appreciate your life for what it is, not for what it isn't or what you want it to be. So... now... lets say we just want to measure "value"... which is the spice of life.. it's what makes it worth living. Whether it is positive or negative... all numbers have an absolute value. 9 and -9 both have the absolute value of 9... because it is the 9th measurement from Zero. And it's always better to have something, than nothing. If you had nothing, you'd be nothing. So... that's why I believe.... Even in times of stress and frustration, it's much better than the times of nothingness.
I'd say I was sorry for that, if I was, because it was boring I'm sure. But.. I'm not sorry... I had to explain it so that I felt that I gave you a fair chance to understand.
I believe I have less than I did before. Less negative? Maybe... less positive? Yeah. I had friends once, though there weren't many.. just enough to count on a single hand, and you could probably be missing a few fingers and still cover them all. I had more appeal to myself. I liked myself more than I do now. But now I have a daughter. I love my daughter, but I cannot live for her. That'd be unfair to her and me. She is a plus in my life that I did not have before. She's the biggest plus I've ever had.
Ugh.... blah blah blah. What a waste of words... sweet vitae of emotion and essence poured along the dirty street, and left to freeze over night. I'll return to this post the day after, and curse myself as I slip and fall on my ass on account of my own mindless ranting. O.o I mean... I'll read this sometime later and not like what I've put here, and be upset with myself for wasting words.
What I mean to say.... is I've somewhat weighed myself today, and found myself wanting more out of myself and my opportunities that I have now. I believe I'll find a way to satisfy myself, and appease this desire for self improvement, achievement, and overall self value.
Another thing I wanted to mention was that I had another dream with Jennifer in it. This time, I was going back in time to somehow change things so that her and I could still be in touch, yet not ruin Jade's creation at the same time. It was difficult to do... and I wasn't able to do it in the dream. Actually... I had some sort of mechanism that allowed me to go back in time, but if I stayed in one time period for too long... these... beings would hunt me down, as if they were tracking me down.. and if I stayed in one place for too long they'd find me. These.. beings... were actually a lot like the "agents" in The Matrix movies. Towards the end of the dream, one of them found me and I had to escape. But they weren't agents in the dream... just human-looking creatures that looked, acted, and dressed like them. Very....peculiar O.o It's also somewhat depressing to dream of Jennifer again.
But it's really not Jennifer that I want. Jennifer and Becca are nearly opposites. Jennifer was spazzy, crazy, spunky, and irresponsible. Becca is irresponsible too, but she doesn't "act" irresponsible.. she just shifts responsibility to everyone else. Jennifer did things that were irresponsible because she wanted to have fun, and didn't care too much. It's not Jennifer that I want, I don't think.. not to say that I wouldn't mind speaking to her, just to see what's up in her life... but... I want someone who can satisfy my hunger for a lover who is fun, independent, crazy, and spontaneous. I'm not sure that'll ever happen. Not because I'm ugly... or because I'm a boring dork who would never appeal to someone like that... (well.. I hope I'm not anyway >.>) but because it doesn't seem to fit my luck or my pattern of life to EVER get what I really want. If I ever want it done the way I want it.... I have to do it myself. This isn't something I can just give myself.
Well... I think I've gotten it all out now. Perhaps at your expense, eh? You've read this far.... poor you... having suffered a thousand words of boring ranting and ventilation of a wierdo like me. Sounds like a religious punishment or something. Hopefully I won't go so long before posting again, so I don't have to add all the boring stuff all in one post, and leave no room for odd inquisitive remarks that entertain potheads for hears... like playdough.
Now I'm going to finish my glass of Pinot Noir, pour myself another... and find some mindless activity to occupy myself with for the rest of the night. Feel free to comment on any post I make, be it positive or negative... It's the value that counts ^^ hee-yuk.... >.> And this little bastard said goodnight..... | | |
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This post is going to be like no other before. Doesn't mean you'll actually care, or like it, or find it interesting. Doesn't mean you're not going to, either. Just read it... don't think about if you like it, if it's what you feel like reading, if it's something you like reading about, or if I should even being writing it at all. Just read it, if you're going to read it. Just think about it. Just put yourself in my shoes. And after you've done that... don't pity me... don't sympathize... don't feel that you need to tell me some sort of mythical advice that will make everything better. Learn from it... and don't do what I do.
It's 7:50 A.M. right now. I just woke up fifteen minutes ago. I had a dream that really shook me up. I have those often enough. My dreams are always vivid. They are long, detailed, and most of the time very emotional. Not always do they shake me up though, just rarely. I learn a lot about things from my dreams. I learn a lot about myself, and sometimes others, though most of the time my dream is occupied with none but strangers, save for myself. Typically... there isn't a single person in my dreams that I actually know. It's amazing, how I could dream of people I don't know.. and find myself missing them more than I do people I actually know at times. I have fought and killed these strangers in my dreams. I have helped and made excellent friendships with these strangers. But what I always remember the most, and typically never forget.. even now... is that I fall in love a lot with these strangers. It's very cheesy, but I must be honest with myself and with you; I fall in love a lot in my dreams. But the same thing always happens at the end....
This last dream I had actually had someone who is not a stranger in it. Only one person in this dream was someone I knew. I'm not sure if it would have made me feel less miserable, shattered, and incomplete right now if it were a stranger, but I doubt it. Perhaps it would have made me feel worse. But.... this person in this particular dream.... she was a girl named Jennifer.
At this point, my mind has been functioning at a normal level for too long for me to fully sketch out this dream to you, but I will do my best to relay the emotions and connections made.
Jennifer and I were at some place. It was a place where others our age were, but not a school. It was not a place we worked either. Perhaps it was a place representing what school was to me outside the function of a classroom. There were many other people there, but none of them I knew. Jennifer and I were broken up in the dream, as we are now. Her and I hadn't been talking for some time now in the dream, just as it is now. But I was seeing her on a regular day basis in the dream, contrary to how it is now. She had her usual bright and magnetic essence about her in the dream. She smiled a lot, and had perfect teeth to go with it. She was quite fit, with a medium height and straight blond hair. Her eyes were full of charisma, and were mostly blue with shades of gray breaking through every now and then. She always smelled like some odd fruit perfume that you'd never catch wind on anyone who isn't under eighteen. She was exactly as I remembered her physically perfect, and had the smile and attitude that the typical, functional, and productive member of society would die to keep around them.
The dream took place as if we were in present time. I still had my daughter, and Becca was still a part of my life. Becca and I were still not a couple, and I still loved my daughter beyond anything in this world. But for some reason I'd go to this place, and do something, and see these people. But this dream begins when I begin to notice Jennifer. And the more I see her, I eventually start to talk to her somehow. Her and I talk, and these people are around us.. talking to us every now and then, saying "Hey" as I walk past them. We chit chat about nothing really for the first quarter of the dream, and then I start to fall in love with her again.
After having gone through the things I did while in my relationship with Becca, and then things that I am still going through.. Jennifer seemed more comforting and appealing than she ever did before. Her crazy, spastic jokes and antics really warmed my heart, and was a glorious change to the cold, hard, cement attitudes, beliefs, and ways that Becca has engulfed my life in currently. Jennifer gave me everything that Becca never has... and that's how it was before.
After awhile of feeling awed and the need for Jennifer to return to my life, I eventually tell her. She isn't sure, as she typically never was when it came to me in the beginning. She was sending me mixed messages, relating that she wanted to and yet she was afraid to.
Unfortunately, I cannot remember it in more detail, but what happens next is what I remember most. Jennifer eventually decided rejoin with me, but then soon after.. she decided to leave forever. The vision I remember last is her walking away, with that sullen look on her face, as if it broke her heart as much as it did mine. This only made me feel worse to know that it hurt her as well. For the rest of the dream I was alone. No strangers, no one. I was in some... long hallway that was wide, and very tall. There was a red carpet under me, and silky red curtains along the walls. It wasn't as vibrant a place as it sounds. It was very dark in there, but light enough to watch Jennifer grow smaller as she continued walking away. I also didn't notice the hall as much, because I was weeping uncontrollably at this point in the dream.
I don't know if I was on my knees, I don't know if I was standing or sitting or on the floor. It felt like my body didn't exist... that the rest of my dream was just my "soul".. spewing with misery as I cried insanely. While I cried, I thought of my daughter, and how much I loved her. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to be happy with her. I thought of Becca, and how being with her has hurt me so much, and how Jennifer was the only one that could somehow heal my wounds and help me move on. I thought of how much I missed Jennifer's smile, her craziness, her zaniness, her deep loyalty and faith that she gave to me when we finally settled. I missed her living her life for me, doing everything to make me happy as long as it didn't sacrifice who she was... because she knew that's not what I wanted. I missed Jennifer.. I missed being happy... I missed being who I was meant to be, who I wanted to be, and I realized how much I regret what I've become and what's happened to me. I regretted that I haven't had the strength to save myself like I used to always be able to do. I knew it wasn't my fault, because I did my best, but that doesn't help the emotional mutilation I've suffered since I've last spoken with Jennifer.
I then woke up. I wasn't crying, but I really wanted to. Unfortunately, I've forgotten how to cry. I know a lot of people say that, but it's true for me. I'm only able to cry when I'm near blacking out and losing control like the people you read about in the news. That's not an exaggeration, and it's unfortunate that I know how it feels to be that extremely angry and hurt. Other than that, I shed a tear or two when my daughter was born and I held her for the first time. Becca had to have a C-section, and was unable to feed her daughter for the first time.. so I had the privilege of feeding my daughter, Jade, her first bottle.
I was sad to realize that Jennifer is no longer a part of my current life, nor am I a part of hers. In fact, she probably really doesn't want to be right now. That makes me sad too. I was also sad that the only way I can find good love (not bad love) is in my dreams. I was sad to think of how my day is going to be today, living with Becca... and not someone who loves me like I deserve. I was sad because I know that it's pathetic to be sad about these things... it's pathetic not to already have these things... it's pathetic to wake up and want to cry.. it's pathetic to have no one to tell your dream to who will understand and won't somehow shift it so they are the victim of your feelings, or scold you, or give you some useless advice, or won't just simply care.
So here I am... typing about it... on a damn web log. That says a lot about me, doesn't it? You've learned a lot about me just because of that. Shall we recap? I am a loser, with no friends, no one who loves me (me.. not what they can get out of, or from me), nothing in his life to make him happy besides his daughter, who goes on an online journal to express his sadness and emotional inequities. I am pathetic. The world is a funny place, though, where I can be pathetic.. yet extremely useful to others at the same time. I can be a loser, and be a big part of other people winning in life.
Anyway... this is quite a long post, and for this I apologize. It was probably agonizing to read through, I'm assuming, and if you've read other posts.. you're probably really getting bored with me.
By the way, for those who are wondering about Jennifer... well.. her and I haven't talked for about two years now. She's still working at the same place she used to back then, Pick N' Save grocery store.. only now she's a manager. She's also going to college, I think... maybe.. if she didn't drop out. Her and I broke up after a two and a half year relationship together. The first year was rocky. She didn't know what she wanted. I somehow managed to stick through it, and then the next year and a half I somehow grew apart from her emotionally due to complicated reasons. Maybe not so complicated. It was because of me, and I'm not very complicated.. just very different. I broke up with her, but it took a good year before we really stopped "seeing" each other. I feel bad about hurting her. She loved me very much. But that's how I live my life.. bearing the bad feelings of the things I've done, but carrying on anyway, using reason as my stability to not feel guilty and collapse under what's happened. What happened, happened because I would not have survived any other way. I'd be as broken and weak as the rest.
I may be broken hearted, but I'm not broken. I may be emotionally weak, but I'm not weak. I may be hurt and wounded, but I'm just getting started. | | |
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Here we are again, the eveningk of another oblique day. Today was not a bad one. This is not to say it was good, though o.O I did some of this, a bit of that. I got some good things done, and at the same time enjoyed some one on one with my daughter. The more I am with her, the more I realize how much I love her.
Love is never something I've been able to gauge. I suppose I don't typically try to gauge things whose measure doesn't matter. I've always figured, if you love something.. you love it. How you love it matters, but not how much. Same with anger and hate, I suppose. Perhaps that's what makes these particular emotions special. They are so potent and manipulating to one's characteristics, that one does not sit around and consider how much or how little they are ensnared by it.
Anyway... I'm currently speaking with a guy I talk to online. I had a moment of remitting truth in which I had yet to fully understand myself. A faint enlightenment dawned on me as I spoke to him, "I'm just a weird guy who's only 20.. afraid to call himself a man, out of fear of overrating himself." After I had typed it and sent it, I then read it over... and realized what I was really saying. It made me laugh, to myself.. alone in this room, out loud. It was a comical realization.
To admit that you are afraid to call yourself a man is perhaps a sign of being a true man? At least, I would think it would be if I were looking at someone else who admitted the same thing. But then again... I really don't know what being a man means. Maybe it really means nothing. Maybe it's just another way of categorizing people. Being a man maybe means being what society thinks is responsible, mature, and proper. What I ultimately mean is.. perhaps what being a man means is being socially acceptable as an adult male in all you do, personally and impersonally.
My true feeling on the matter is one lacking of care or much attention. Society is just a statistical figure of who thinks what and why. I have always been the minority in society, not to brag ^^. So society has always been an opposing force in my life, striving to change me and adjust me to it's temporary beliefs and ideals, which change as often as seasons. It's like a current in the ocean, sucking at what I am as an individual, trying to snuff it out like a fire in the pouring rain. O.o
But who the hell doesn't feel that way? Funny thing is... the majority of society feels that way to some degree. I suppose it's a part of us finding some form of appreciation for our individuality. If we didn't have to fight for it, would we really appreciate it as much as we do? I don't think we would, but my way of life is nothing more than a theory.. so who am I to say that this is truth?
Well.. I've seemed to pull off a nice session of rambling about things that are most likely utterly boring and uninteresting to you, the reader. I apologize, and do not wish for you to grow tired of me. But, I suppose that's the risk one takes when they are honest and open O.o | | |
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