I'm on the clock. Medicated, or something. Here I go, though, attempting to crank out as many impressive metaphors and fancy phrases on my life as I can before the sleeping pills really take over. You owe me for this. I am an entertainer and here is my greatest show. You are a viewer and here will be your greatest pleasure.
It's the diabolical nature of this relationship. You want a good performance, and I want you to be there in the audience, so that when the lights come up, I'm not left with an eerie empty feeling. Not disappointment--more like drive to be more of an attraction. I'm an attraction, right? That's what I was always told. But really, I never listened to them anyway. Self-reliant and self-sufficient. Toss in some self-deprecation and some self-esteem and it's a social serial killer. Except I don't have a type.
I run on subtlety, suave, and serenity. It hurts when a guy's all, "Hey, babe. You look good and kinda smart reading that textbook. Oh, what's that? GEOL 217? Hey, I'M IN THAT CLASS TOO. Maybe you could come over, write my paper, sleep with me, and make me breakfast in the morning." Come on, buddy. Nobody in geology has sex. We know you're bluffing.
The guy next to me in my exam was breathing so loudly throughout the three hours. It got under my skin after about 12 minutes. So I wrote me a half-assed fourth essay and left for the bar.
The part where the story looks like it's going to take a turn for the worst. But instead, I end up back home with a glass of milk, medicated, and drifting out of editing levels.
I feel like it's over here, for the most part. This chapter is closing and there's only room for a few more hacked out notes or messages. And I'm okay with that. I'm not ready to say this is over and bury it for real, but I am ready to open a new segment of my life and open a new segment of my life up to everyone. Something a little more honest and a little more obvious.
I can't promise the metaphors will disappear, but I can promise to try and make this more approachable, more viewer friendly, and certainly more interactive. I want this to be about more than just me; I want this to be about us, and figure out how far we can get together. See what we can uncover if we're all digging in the same spot, instead of shoveling the dirt from our respective holes right back into each others.
Really, I just want to make this fun again.
I mean, it's time to be honest. I'm not just well past ten anymore. And it's time to accept the responsibility that accompanies this new stages of our lives. Less hiding out behind the words and believing that all the important work in life will happen later.
So this is it. Dig out your motherfucking passwords and get ready for the experience.
Check out allofthelights. A community blog. A foray into a world of group dialogue which I in no way expect to start out with any sort of bang or enthusiasm. I do, however, invite you all to join me in dropping the charade and giving this whole thing another go. A brand new start with a fresh outlook. Maybe you haven't been like me and don't find anything childish or archaic about how you used to write, but maybe you have and you do. In any case, consider this the proverbial extended hand.
The idea behind this blog was just to wade through all the bullshit we all put in our stuff. Everything's encrypted these days, and we all grew tired of, well, not having a damn clue what we were saying to each other. I just want to have something concrete. A place for legitimate discussion of the opinions I grew to respect and admire you all for. It's not going to be my 2AM dumping ground. I'll leave this place up for that.
Author's Note: Because I was borderline inept when it came to writing this, it took a long time. Throughout this time, a lot of things I wanted to write never showed up and a lot of things I wanted to reference settled and I felt like it was best to let them lie. Know this is incomplete and know that I haven't expressed everything about these topics as I have to say. And know that that is probably for the best.
Yes I'm reusing that. I feel like it's allowed.
The following presentation is a product of many days, spanning from August 6th to September 29th, about the events from 2004 to 2010.
At it again.
I'm trying not to come in with any sort of self-inflicted pressure for this to be awe-dropping. I am just trying to bring the fun back. So let's get right into it. Yeah? Yeah.
It feels kind of like 2007 or something. Maybe 2008. Like someone bumped the power cord on my brain before I could save the '08/'09/'10 files. And you know exactly how it works. You diligently save and save and over-save your document so much that you lose all semblance of a flow amongst the Ctrl+S. And then things go well. You hit your stride; the words just pour out onto the pages and you make sense of God and the world and television and the molecular and chemical neuropharmacology of dopamine receptor types. And it's in that moment, when you're streamlining every thought straight onto the screen, that your computer crashes. You lose all the progress you just tapped into.
And that's what this is. I hit my stride, found my way, and then lost my work. And that leaves me with some shoddy, spasmodic attempt at coherence. That's my reference; that's what I have to work with
Aw, shit. Ctrl+S.
I'm frustrated. I'm angry. I don't know where my keyboards are.
Ctrl+S.
I asked my friend a question recently that I realized I only asked because I was hoping they'd ask me back. Sometimes I don't want to be the person that I am. Sometimes I wish I had the wherewithal to say the things I'm thinking. To not be the kind of person that holds their tongue. Kick someone when they're down. Because sometimes they deserved it. And it's all you can do to keep from keeping quiet. There are moments where I wish I had to fight back the urge to say something rather than having to force myself to vent to a wall days later.
Consider this a personal benevolence. A sort of benevolengence. And it's a trait that we passive-aggressive few are sorely lacking in. We get the crap beat out of us by someone only to turn around and kick the shit out of ourselves. And of my options of dropping me, you, or some bystander, I feel only two of those have any merit. And frankly, sometimes I'm sick of people getting off scot free.
And since I'm not very good at just letting something this big drop, it hangs around above my head for ages and ages.
Ctrl +S.
The question: If there was one person in your life you could go back and call an asshole to their face, who would it be?
There are a lot of things that I really miss right now. Near the top of that list is simplicity. I know too much right now. I know too many people and I don't know enough people. I know where I could be, where I could have been, and how I got to where I am. I know that I am only where I am now by the collection of individual minutes and seconds in their precise order. I know that growing up in a place like I did, that Door Number One and Door Number Eighty-Four are about two minutes apart. Because it only takes a few seconds here or there to completely change the interpretation of what you're trying to say.
You all have used MSN in high school. You've all been there. You all know what I mean.
It must be the way that I can hear you say this now Don't be afraid, just know that I'll be with you somehow All of your cries, soon they will drown in my lullabies Just close your eyes, just close your eyes Lullaby - All Star United
I don't care that I haven't saved this, because if everything crashes again, I don't want to have to fall back on this point anymore. I'm done with this part. So I'll put it down on paper one more time, and then pray that I can find my way to the other side before anyone trips over the plug. Here goes everything. With any luck, I'll see you all on the other side.
Fuck it. I'm good, though. That's the new way. I'm going to popularize it--back to my trendsetting ways, guys. A new attitude; a new "Go get it." I'm going to be okay. I'm above all of that. Or, rather, whether I'm above it or not, I understand that it doesn't have to hold any weight. I am ultimately in control of the way I feel about things, and that's for the best.
All of this victimization I subjected myself to throughout a lot of high school,I subjected myself to. Of course it seems like a bigger deal than it is/was. That's the nature of adolescence: things seem like a bigger deal than they are, and (because of how our brains are running at the time) they will continue to be a big deal. For much longer than you think is appropriate or allowable.
But that's okay. They were emotionally unstable, painstaking, finger-pointing, dramatic, memory forming, long, excessive, logic defying, inexplicable, happy years. And that's how I'll remember them. Happy. I went through them and so did you. Unfortunately, I've been carrying them around with me for much too long. They are gone. I am not and the people are not, but the years are gone. So it's time for me to grow up--or grow past them. No more retroactive blame-shifting. Who was responsible for what happened then is irrelevant. I was responsible for how I interpreted it, responded to it, and how I carried it. And now I'm responsible for what happens next. Not anyone else. So let's get to it.
In an effort to maintain a level of honesty when I tell people that I'm handling everything just fine, I turn to you. You, oh ever-weary reader. You are the light at the end of the tunnel, the oasis in the desert, the nap after a Monday morning of class.
I've been ranting a lot today, and I'm not really a fan of myself for it. To be honest, I've been doing some reflecting to boot. I'm nearly twenty and have yet break out into some full-fledged Adlerian self-realization. I'm not yet the "optimal me". But what's most unsettling is that I don't even know which direction I'd go from here to find it. To be honest, I think I need to back up a few turns in the maze to get back on track. I have all these ideas of what I don't like to see in people, and I can point it out in an instant when I see it. Probably because I've had practice. I've seen it a lot. However, I can't for the life of me point out the positive things I see in myself that I can build on or I can rely on to make myself superior (in the Adlerian sense). Meanwhile, I'm making some sort of record mark in futility and, more appropriately, what will henceforth be referred to as "humanitarianism". Perhaps an inappropriate term, given the recent international circumstances. But when was it ever going to calm down enough for it to be less unpalatable? I digress. I believe the point I am trying to make is that I am once again going to be taking back my life for me. Sympathies will be doled out in handfuls, where they once came in spades. Words will be toned down, where they once ran like a symphony. And emotions be damned--I'll block up that river. Consider this my attempt at a much more objective outlook on the lives of others. Because sometimes it takes too much to try and find the faded lines people walk between for them. And tougher still to guide them back from the dead ends and toward the goal. "This is history in the making So shut the fuck up and let me make it" I think all the pathways are what confuse me. I'm never sure which is the wisest, quickest, or safest. I feel pressure to be this persona (man, just RECYCLING that lecture). And I admit that it's not always a bad thing; sometimes that persona is exactly who I want to be in certain scenarios. But it would be too painful and difficult to carry out that lifestyle every minute of every day--so I won't try anymore. So, what do you do when you don't know how to get through that maze? Well. You start where you want to be--at the end--and then you work your way back from there.
Out of bed, after three hours of futility. No, that's not a sex joke, I'm trying to fall asleep. And failing miserably.
Discovered this before heading off to bed. It's over 11 minutes, so don't feel obliged to watch it if you're not so inclined. Spike Jonze hooks up with Kanye West again, and it's actually pretty impressive. I really liked the first six minutes, or so. After that it isn't as great--but still, Spike Jonze is Spike Jonze.
So the best thing about having seen every episode of Friends? You can just pick up anywhere you want. Not like you're spoiling anything. Just grab a season off your shelf and hit it up. But seriously, that's not what this is about. I can't sleep, or something. It's like I'm not good at it, or I haven't prepared for it properly. I don't understand it. I'd love to be able to put a finger on it.
Just like I'd love to be able to put a finger on whatever it is I'm picturing at night. It's like there's an image that I can't actually see. An engraving that I can only run my eyes over to feel the bumps and curves. I don't even know what it's about. Everything is just a guess; I'm grasping at straws.
This is my cactus, Jupiter. Right now he's chillin' at home. Thanks to Mom and Dad for taking care of him while I'm across the province educatin', overratin', and proliferatin'. Since you're reading anyway.
//
Two nights later//
Here I am again. 4:55 in the morning, sitting in a chair rather than lying in bed. Perhaps I should just give in--become nocturnal. Unfortunately, my exam schedule is unflinching and, by God, it would be pretty hard to write all of my 9:00AM exams while asleep in bed. Then again, maybe I'll have a better shot asleep than I will awake. Perhaps I'll just have someone cart me in to the exam room while I'm asleep and place a pencil in my hand. Perhaps... Hey wait. That reminds me of something.
Oh right, how about everything I've ever written here after 2AM? But how about some summer? Okay.
Recently I've been reminded how important it is to be aware of the fickleness of life. I mean, honestly, you're here one day and the next... well, you're still here. But it won't be like that forever! It's irrelevant, though, because what I really want to talk about is how abruptly you can lose someone, without warning. And, in classic Me fashion, I mean that in all senses of the word. Whether they pass away, run away, move away, or you throw them away. Life is mercurial. Don't let that get the best of you. Sure it may surprise you, but don't let it leave you with regret. Some things need to be said. Too often we find ourselves in a position of putting those things off. Day after day. I would be remorse if I let you leave without beating this down your throat, shoving you over the head with it. So once again, I implore you--beg you to think about this. And I know I've said practically identical words in this very place before. They say when something is repeated, it must be important. Allow me to say that when something is repeated, maybe you should have listened the first time.
All this aside, allow me to digress. For the first time in years, the reason I am up this late is because someone came to me with good news. It's been too long. And THAT needs to be said.
Once again, I'll be bringing your way some of the things that you value most--and some of the things that you could really care less about. But enough chit-chat. Let's get down to business. The business of you shutting up and listening. I don't do this very much anymore, and I like to think it's with good cause. I really don't like showing up with nothing to offer. That is, I don't like writing for half a page, keeping you all around in hopes that I'll say something worthwhile, if it's not going to happen. It's not that you don't care what I'm up to and wouldn't be interested in a cut and dry rehashing of all the things I've been up to, it's that I really don't want to be that guy. I'd much rather do my best to say something relevant and see if I can talk about something, I don't know, other than myself. On an ultimate scale, that is.
Maybe I should rephrase that. It's not that I don't like talking about myself. It's that I don't like talking about actual events. I'm much more hypothetical, I guess.
I spend most of my time these days on edge. In a constant state of cynicism, questioning what's going on as a product of some bizarre concoction of events. I overthink, underthink, and ignore all at the same time. And then sometimes I just don't care anymore. I have limits, I guess. I like to think that on some level I will always have that unconditional ability--but when my conscious, controlled thinking kicks in... then I have limits. Which is to say that sometimes and in some cases, I have chosen to have limits. It's not necessarily an indication of the person or the situation, but perhaps they have just worn out their welcome. I suppose you'd all be proud of me--four years later and I've finally started calling the shots. Except now we're looking at a doomsday clock. Which is to say that somebody should have done this sooner. Namely me.
I find that when I really need something, I always manage to come up with it. I think it's a general rule, actually. Something subconscious about it. We know that we need this, and need it bad, so we say "Screw the pain," and step in front of the buses ourselves. That extra bit of effort seems to always push us over the top. I'm always surprised and how people seem to pull off remarkably improbable feats when they just NEED them. That says something about character, I think. That resolve, that drive. The desire to be someone who just won't be beaten. So that's what this is. Now I'm saying I won't be beaten.
I'm back with an unshakable feeling of efficacy. This is me, just basking in what's sitting out there. Anyone feeling hopeful? Yeah, well you should be.
This isn't because I've had any streak of kick-assery (look it up), or anything. This is because I've decided everything else just wasn't worth it (more on that later). So what would you like, tonight? A list of songs to turn your awesome on? A check up on what's really worth paying attention to? Some sort of half-assed reference to what school is all about now? Excessive use of a sentence/paragraph pattern? ALL YES.
But this time we make you work for it.
Pursuit of Happiness - Kid CuDi ft. MGMT & Ratatat
All my time right now is divided in some manner or other between a) reading my textbooks b) attending class c) buying groceries d) wishing I had more time for about 65% of the people in my life e) planning how best to stay warm in the winter and frankly, I'm sort of fine with that. Like I said, I just don't want to waste my time on details that aren't important. Why? Because I don't have the time. Somehow, in this whole paradoxical shimmey-shake, I entrenched myself so quickly that I don't even have the time to successfully reorganize or prioritize my schedule. That's right: I'm cutting it so close I don't have time to figure out how to stop cutting corners. It could have something to do with all five of my courses basically spending two weeks rehashing Grade 12 Data Management--each with their own sets of different (read: incompatible) definitions for the same terminology.
Never Better - P.O.S. Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend
TV is awesome. You should all be up to speed--or pursuing said speed--on the following: How I Met Your Mother The Office NCIS Family Guy and if you aren't, well, that's your prerogative (read: SHAME ON YOU). But I ask you, have I ever steered you wrong?
Rome - Phoenix Supernova - Mr. Hudson ft. Kanye West
I'm all jumbled up, because I can't decide what exactly to do with my studies. I made a big step by throwing myself headlong at psychology. I also made a big commitment. That's a lot of time I'll be investing--so I'd better know what I want. So far, the list is at: a) clinical psychologist b) marketing c) professor d) social psychology e) snappy dresser and those are all pretty enticing. But of course, I just realized I could be a snappy dresser for ALL of those jobs. INCLUDING snappy dresser. I attribute that epiphany to 35% of the norepinephrine flowing in my body right now. The remainder you guys can just divvy amongst yourselves. Debate and debacle. ...Totally not related.
Heartbeats - Jose Gonzalez (The Knife cover) Young Forever - Jay-Z ft. Mr. Hudson
While we're on the topic of unrelated (like synapses weren't enough), I think everyone should take a course in psychology at least once in their university studies. Puts a lot of stuff into perspective. Of course, you'll end up a little more like me--second-guessing every attribution you make, developing a paper phobia you yourself can not only identify, but also chastise yourself for labeling as a phobia, with a poster over your desk with "F.A.E." written in block letters. But, aw man, it's fun. I'm supposed to be performing some sort of experiment on myself later this year which will probably involve both operant and classical conditioning on some sort of semi-sub-unconscious. Maybe that's all just a ruse and you're the one I'm really conditioning. Hey, I just did it to you again. Sorry, I'll stop.
Sorry.
I'm stalling. Hopefully I'll have something awesome to throw on the end here to leave you with. Also, I hope to figure out how I got purple ink all over my clothes at work. Oh, hey, I got it.
As per usual, I'm here on a night that requires a definite lack of sleep. Why do I do this to myself, you ask? Well... I didn't. I was literally moments away from falling asleep, regardless of my policy of pulling an all-nighter after a certain hour on nights preceding 8:30 classes (to prevent, y'know, sleeping through them), on the curtain of sleep--when the fire alarm sounded. I know, right? So I guess it's time to drop some K-bombs*. On a small town. In Nebraska. Bitches. ...pause to set the mood:
Drugs Or Me (Styrofoam Remix) - Jimmy Eat World Mood not in the literal sense of the lyrics... but rather to prepare you all for the levels of awesome I will be aiming for tonight. Step 1. Pop Tarts: Back in a sec.
...
...
Okay. I'm good to go.
Step 2. Inform you all, once again, that I don't know anything: This comes with a series of mini-steps, I guess you could call them. Something like discovering that you're mere percentage points away from having to rethink the next three or four or five years, or the jobs you've been looking forward to your whole life are all being eliminated as a result of the recession, or that someone you live with is pregnant and that YOUR WHOLE LIFE GAINED SOME PERSPECTIVE. Like, actually. What do I have to match up to that? Nothing. And what's more, my entire facade of being ready for the future is shrinking back into the cavernous depths of insecurity and Grades 9-11 from whence it came. Oh shit. I might not be ready to face the future.
Step 3. Reference something you could be doing that would be a more worthwhile use of your time than reading this: Screw it. I'll give you a whole list. - going for a walk - sleeping - studying - marking papers - writing a resume - playing with your dog - planning a summer trip - organizing your notes - shopping - watching Snatch, or any of the Ocean's movies. - writing your own post - actually doing your homework - playing Backgammon - learning to play Backgammon - fishing - defragging your computer
Step 4. Pressing 'play': At this point, I'm just going to type. And hopefully you all understand the following, much less appreciate the following. I feel as though the things that I used to take pride in, appreciate, make special mention of, discuss, and really have a vested interest in have all sort of shrunk into the background. That is to say that, while growing up is fun, yes, losing the mentality, joys, and even laments of my youth is a totally unappreciated experience. I miss worrying about getting homework assignments done, trying not to be late for homeroom, and generally a lot of what elementary school and high school were about for me. I miss acting, I miss being able to recognize people, being recognizable, having a valued opinion. I think. I have often wondered if the status I feel I was at was, in reality, accurate. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we refer to as the self-concept. Your self-concept comes from where? You! WRONG. It comes from everybody else. Of course, right? The way people react to you, treat you, and the things they expect of you determine who you are. Well, who you think you are. Which, in turn, will lead you to become that person. That's right. Given the right amount of time, setting, people, and resources, I could make any one of you join the KKK. Twisted? You know it!
Step 5. Digestion: All out of Pop Tarts and the desire to feign intelligent thought. Plus, the sun's coming up, so it's time to retreat to daylight me. What I want to leave you with is this: don't give up on yourself--especially nobody else has. You're not capable of surprising anyone more than yourself.
Today is my 11 month anniversary. That makes me happy. Also, I haven't slept yet tonight. I'm looking forward to breakfast in little over an hour, and being done my history seminar at 10. I suppose I'll go back to bed after that. I think I like to stay up some nights because I feel as though I've taken some control over an aspect of my life--I also feel as though I will sleep after history because I really love my bed and it's so damn comfortable. However, starting at 10, there will be a half-hour long testing of the fire alarm in my res building. Terrific. In other news, I have discovered the gateway into a new world of remixes and mash-ups for my listening pleasure. Imagine a remix involving 50 Cent, Justin Timberlake... and Pirates of the Caribbean! Yeah, it's real.
Yeah. That's The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Your ears aren't mistaken. Moving on.
-A happened.
Edit// I would like to commit to hitting up Sherwood for something new this week, as well. No guarantees--but it would be quite welcomed on my part.
I have a big place in my heart for this place. I always seem to. Stuff grows on me. Places grow on me. Just like music grows on me. I suppose this is how a man can end up with an exploding heart. When I really stop and think about it, I don't think I actually could afford to have a normal-sized heart with all the places, people, things, thoughts, and feelings that have captured it. So I would propose that the compliment "you have a big heart," in some cases, isn't as much a compliment as it is an acknowledgment of just how lucky you must be. Because, let's face it, not everyone has enough in their life to warrant a big heart. I guess that's what makes those people exceptional. The perseverance of a big heart when, by all accounts, they should have turned cynic years ago.
I wish I could live in a world where I didn't have to fetch my Kleenex box from the bathroom. I wish I didn't have to listen quietly to someone who didn't want to say a word. I wish the world was just in general a much better place to live. But there are those people out there that make it worthwhile--keep them. You'll need them.
Consider this a message from the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future. You all have places, people, things, thoughts, and feelings in your life that you should never let go of. That you may take for granted. I know I do. Acknowledge them. You need to. For you.
