Is this what we ask when time has lapsed
The feeling of fingers clasped
The throb of veins in palms, clashed

We went to see a parade in Barrington today for the 4^th. This already feels like it's going to sound like a play-by-play and disjointed but oh well.

Towards the end, there was this girl handing out BBQ pulled-pork (I think? Can't remember) samples for a restaurant in the downtown. It was pretty good so, for lunch, we all decided to go down there.

I still don't remember if I was simply caught off guard (we happened to notice the girl who gave us the samples behind the counter when we arrived) or if there really was just something there but I was rather thoroughly struck by…I dunno, how open and friendly the other girl behind the counter seemed.

I don't know whether I've necessarily ever discussed here (or anywhere, for that matter) why I always keep such a buoyant outward mood to the point of (I feel like it sometimes becomes) being exaggerative (I was going to also say hyperbolic but I think, given the definition of hyperbole, I would actually be okay with it being hyperbolic; it fits the bill). Yes, sure, there's the old I-have-depression-and-don't-want-to-drag-you-down-with-me but you don't have to even necessarily be outwardly happy to do that. Being anti-social and not talking to people could accomplish that one.

It's that, one, I legitimately just want to get along with everyone and like being nice to people. I know it doesn't fit the motif of being mysterious or withdrawn or stoic for masculinity but I just feel happier being open with people. I want to be friendly.

But it's also that people just seem to tend to be…unfriendly. And for seemingly no good damn reason. My brother and I were discussing race and I mentioned that, up North, I really don't seem to find that awkwardness that I've heard other people mention. He responded that he feels that all the time. Now, this is the kid who has diamond earrings and had an afro that is now dreadlocks; he's not exactly ducking into traditional white social mores in regards to his appearance. And I'm not saying that getting poor responses to his physical dress is not a problem; far be it for me to ever do that. Nor am I saying that the North is devoid of racism (one of the points of credit that the movie Premium Rush – about bike messengers in NYC – received was that it was one of the few Hollywood movies to depict the racial diversity of NYC more accurately to what NYC is actually like; to be fair, you'd never be able to levy such a complaint, ever, about Chicago and there's no way that that's an accident). And it's not like there weren't people in high school who found fit to define me by my race first (generally joking and friends I was close with so I generally didn't mind but, still, there was a slight trend which just highlighted further the fact that I probably knew a grand total of five other black students only once I got to my Senior year). And, certainly, being followed around in a convenience store is not the same as the number of racial jokes rising the moment I enter the group which is also not the same as people giving my brother dirty stares because of his hair style (which may just be because they're unfamiliar with the hair style and find it unkempt, etc.); those are all very different, complex situations.

But I find, even for generally straight-laced me, that people are continually just bizarrely rude. Or awkward (without, to me, reason to be but I can make a pretty mean awkward situation in my own right so I probably shouldn't hold anyone to task for that one). Despite my being overly friendly, people don't precipitate. And maybe it is a race thing; I dunno, maybe my brother's right. Regardless, people aren't friendly because they're generally stupid and so I just smile and be friendly and ask questions or make jokes and I don't give a damn whether you laugh or respond or shit.

But it also means I'm all the more happy and thankful when I find someone who actively tries to be friendly to others as well. I like friendliness. It's in low supply and helps the world go round.

In any case, my brother and I have gotten into the habit of, after running into a girl somewhere, questioning whether she was actively flirting with either of us. I think it's partially from irony given the fact that I generally assume not and tend to be the shy one of the group (the conversation usually goes with me saying, "Naw…" while my brother, and maybe a third party, going, "Ohh, yeah, it was definitely obvious!") but also just to be ridiculous. After all, friendliness certainly does not necessarily flirtation mean.

You can imagine how the conversation throughout lunch might go. This isn't helped by the fact that the girl stops over at our table to pet my sister's dog (though, to be fair, the girl came back later to ask if she could take a picture of Shiver to show her mom since she used to have a dog of the exact same breed; I may be bad at flirting but I'm pretty sure you use the dog to start the conversation and then direct your attention to whomever you're interested in flirting with).

Of course, my mother doesn't seem to exist for any other reason than to try to play matchmaker for all her children at every second of every day. And, being my mother, the reason she uses is that "She's pretty."

I actually would have said gorgeous but that's neither here nor there (I almost want to describe her but I can't really without beginning to strongly feel like I'm objectifying so I won't; the point for doing so is that, while not greatly, I think she fell outside, somewhat, "mainstream" beauty standards. Part of my own drawing, I imagine, and also why my mother described her as pretty while I'm using much stronger language).

But as I'm mulling these thoughts over…what real defense do I have to ask this girl out? I mean, I'm in an unfortunate place emotionally while trying to get my life together. I'm still not done with my hermit-ing to heal myself for the future that may lose me near to all my friends come the end (there's only so long any person should have to endure the isolation of another). That's not a wise position to start anything with anyone, really.

But, even beyond that…she seems really friendly and she likes dogs (something which is very wonderful in any person; pets can potentially tell you quite a bit about a person). And that's it. Well, she also works at this restaurant which potentially looks family owned. Which is interesting but doesn't necessarily mean anything. And when you compare that to the many more things that entail any form of a relationship, those few things are downright minimal. Certainly nothing that can justifying trying to start a relationship given the position I'm in with my life.

And, most of the time I was there, I found myself drawn to her…but on what basis? Even I couldn't really answer you that beyond that I found her pretty. And while I've played with the notion of how people look playing into who they are as a person, I more often find that that area is so phenomenally complex that you generally can't glean anything from there without knowing more about the person to start connecting dots (if physical appearance beyond how a person dresses/styles themselves can tell you anything at all). Even I tried, all I could really boil it down to is a hunch: she seemed interesting. Maybe she would be; I wouldn't know.

But it just overwhelmingly confronted me with the fact that, as a system, physical attractiveness still completely and utterly eludes any logical attempts to justify itself. Certainly to fit into just about any merit-based system that we, as humans, have ever devised (which, really, are just about the only systems I'm interested in using).

I think that I can honestly say that this, more than anything, is what makes me question the notion of a God that created an ordered and logical universe. The more I think about it, the more that it being just a byproduct of evolution and pure chance that worked seems to be the only answer that rightly explains its existence.

Excerpt from an old post. At the time, I wasn't certain I articulated what I wanted to well but the last five paragraphs drive home the point perfectly.

 

 

My point is - pain, suffering, disillusionment, fear, even anger, are all very human. And while I don't want to be yelled at, I do want to see all of those things. You cannot possibly be completely un-traumatized by some point in your life or even your present. Share that. It's a part of you. Plus to be devoid of such things is boring.

People are messy. People are not perfect and they're incapable of being packaged in these nice little boxes.

Do not try to shove yourself into one of them. Frustration can be endearing and it's not something I don't want to deal with.

While, yes, being happy and getting along and being enjoyable is nice, that's not all of who we are. And, I guess, what I'm trying to say...you're more interesting that way so why hide it? Why deal with it in private.

I want someone who's able to control themselves and yet can be a mess. I want fucking complexity. Be varied, be vast, be radiant.

Me: Come to think of it, did you know I managed to never date a Catholic girl until my senior year of college?
Mother: Really?
Me: Yes; it's bizarre. Also, I have yet to date a Jewish girl. That is a travesty I sorely need to correct.

I'm starting to hate, that there are certain topics most/all my friends fully endorse, yet I oppose (tea and anime are just two).

That sounds like a ridiculous sort of thing to be bothered over; I'm starting to learn, that I assign a startling amount of (perhaps arbitrary) importance to symbolic significance.

I don't do well with trust. I've said for years that I generally operate on a until-you-prove-otherwise sort of system: you get complete trust, until you do something to prove you don't deserve it. That said, I'm guarded; I have a history to speak as to why. I will view you with the highest respect, assume you capable, etc.; I will not, however, tell you anything potentially hurting to me, because, admittedly, I don't know that such information might not come back at me from you. To me, it doesn't compromise this viewpoint of starting with trust in meeting people, because the point of this idea of trust is giving you the chance to earn and establish it; there's no use in coming at someone distrustful, immediately shutting down means of communication. In this, the expectation to build bridges of trust is primed from the outset; it's your choice as to whether to make it dormant. I am friendly while able to still control how much I get hurt; some damage must still be taken in such a system, but it's of my design and control.

I mention this, because there is heavy significance in how I view my friends. Likely a remnant of my judgmental mother, I see them as a representative of me; I'm proud of them (I assume the use of the term "friend" covers the notion that I care about them; it should go without saying).

But, more than anything, I trust them. For different things, as their specialty suits (I often went to Tommy in my Senior year of high school regarding relationships or discussing sexuality; I would not have gone to Tommy regarding my siblings, nor do I think he would have been particularly interested).

As a slight aside, I take seriously art (food is always an art; I still resist seeing anime as anything than a tired genre that repeats itself and is divorced from reality in ways that fail to give me (at the very least) anything of importance). And if anyone I think highly of sticks on a particular issue (particularly for years), I give serious credence to their point. If a multitude of them do it, even more so.

As I said, arbitrary.

My Facebook currently says I'm in a relationship. This is, to the best of my knowledge, false. At first, I was busy with finishing off finals, let alone getting sleep again. As I was reaching the end of that, I figured she was busy (just getting home and all) and, I reasoned as a side thought, probably best to let her end it, so she could hide anyone else from seeing it (she's not a fan of attention); if I do it, it changes to simply listing her in a relationship without listing with who, which is bound to be noted. She might hide FB from listing being single but that already identifies a change.

However, it has now been five days since we've supposedly broke up. We both agreed going in that the best course of action would be not continuing the relationship, seeing as I'm graduating and she's only a Freshman. It's not the…ideal scenario, but both of us know a long-distance relationship isn't the best course. Neither of us are good at keeping up communication over anything further than a driving distance (i.e. in person). Had it been more than a mere three months, I might've considered it; but not over so short a time period.

There was this moment, two or three days after I was finally finished and attempting to get my energy back, where I, through the sleep, was duly aware that, when I woke up, there wouldn't really be anyone I could go to as a means to talk to or lean on so wonderfully as she had allowed; don't get me wrong, Holly, Allan, Maia, Margaret (both), and Antal are all wonderful, but there isn't something quite the same, for reasons I can't articulate in words yet. And, well, that was a little upsetting.

Every relationship since Allison has been this bizarre question of, "What will happen?" Because, as much as I thought I understood what I wanted, it didn't quite go as planned. Neither did curly. I forget if I mentioned here, but, at least at the beginning (first month or so), there was always that question with Emma; not enough to worry me but just under the surface. I don't like unpredictability, but it's there just the same, for whatever reason.

I haven't actually had a relationship with an expectation to end, truly. Emma did end, for very much the same reasons, but I hadn't seen it coming (should have, mind you, graduating and all, but it was the first time having to even think about that question). Yet, perhaps because I was used to relationships ending and because I had been contemplating the question of the uses of having short relationships (there is, if my memory serves me, a post a short while back on here where I resolve to get to know people, because time is short and people are fascinating and hardly deserve to remain undiscovered; I'm certain, tied to that, I must have said that meant also getting into another relationship, even if unlikely to succeed, even if certain – from the outset – to end), I was fine with the idea that this would, at the end of the school year, end (only other word coming to mind at the moment to diversify that sentence is terminate and that one's just depressing).

I mean, I had been waiting on someone to fascinate me, and then Arantza comes along and – good fuck, fascinating barely covers it. Funny as all Hell, smart and perceptive, interested in politics (and dye-in-the-wool liberal, hard Left as far as average Americans go), fascination with the past, conscious of race, etc. etc. And I meet her in the second half of my senior year of college. But, Hell, she said yes (February 20^th). There was no way I was going to say no.

So it seemed logical – neither of us wanted to enter into a long-distance relationship; come the end of the year, we would split. It seemed reasonable, couldn't be helped; it'd be bittersweet come the end, but one would hope so if it was remotely a good relationship.

But something happened a little sooner than the end of the year. We were listening to records when suddenly – I've always hated the explanation "I just feel it". It's a cop out, something personal which detracts the information from everyone else. Yet those types of instances seem to be cropping up more and more these days. I still think any feeling can be explained in the end, made sense of. However, until that point, all I can say is that something felt different, leaving that room that time. A longing for her not to go so quickly. Before then, it had mostly been like any other friend, other than the fact that I was kissing her; it was very much still like since I had met her. And then it changed.

Maybe because I had been getting to know her better. As I've said here and to several times, to be open at all is to be vulnerable. And it's in that vulnerability that our relationships have any meaning – because a person has the choice to hurt you but does not; yet, more than that, it would hurt them to do so. Of course, everything, it's seeming, these days boils down to depression and my crappy childhood for me, so maybe the willingness to protect, to not hurt, and to care emanate from those personal experiences. But I hesitate to say that definitively yet.

Whatever the reason, there was that change. Which I feel is necessary to say that it's different than you feel for a friend. In that, I mean, I care very deeply for my friends. You don't want your friends hurt nor do you not miss them (something just about everyone already knows). Yet you might want to spend time with a significant other over friends at times. What is that distinction? I don't know how to put it to words. Yet that was part of the feeling. That desire to spend time with someone who has become more than a friend. That's the best I can do to detail it.

So here I am. About to make it "Facebook official". Everything has an end, even if I don't like it.

And, should you find this, Arantza, the Bessie Smith record sounds positively amazing; I'm playing it now, and it's a shame we never gave it a spin earlier.

I biyaâ, i oj ån lak ut ƿж kie.

Note: I wrote this 24 hours ago, but was only able to reach internet to post it until now.

 

Long time readers will remember that I attempted the Überman sleep schedule sometime roughly around last year. After one of my posts, I simply ceased mentioning it, not mentioning whether I failed, decided I didn't like it, or succeeded.

I had intended to give a quick detail, but I was in the middle of my semester at the time. And my temperance has become more and more a slave to tempering my mood these past few years, as I've mentioned before.

I forget if I mentioned it them but, while others tend to feel immense tiredness during the process, I didn't have that problem as much. But I've noticed, as I've played with sleep deprivation more and more these past three years, that I seem to be able to handle myself without sleep shockingly well (even when I anticipate there being a problem). The main problem was the same problem I've always suffered with: not staying up but waking up.

Every so often I'd wind up oversleeping my alarm and, interestingly, wake up three hours later on the dot. Notably, I think such a pattern might fit in with the Everyman-3 schedule, which shocks me since I have skepticism of anything between a siesta sleep schedule and the Überman. Regardless, not only was such oversleeping problematic (I overslept two of my classes during that time), it was reduntantly pointless; overshooting my naps was not going to break me into the Überman, only provide a slightly uncontrollable sleep schedule that didn't yield the same clarity and lack of exhaustion that I could more often achieve on a monophasic sleep schedule (in retrospect, it's interesting to note that one of the reasons I ditched monophasic sleep was that it was, for me, disgustingly bloated and kept me feeling groggy every time I first woke up. The only time I actually seemed coherently energized to my fullest was when nighttime hit, so maybe I didn't actually lose anything during my polyphasic sleeping given that I was tired in both cases and my appetite for 12+ hour naps isn't exactly the definition of control either).

Given this situation, I decided to ditch the schedule given my certainty I would need a partner to even reach a point where I could finally determine if this thing was even possible, considering my inability to wake myself. No one at school was going to sign on to that.

 

Recently, I decided to rescind this decision. Notably, the smart decision would have been to start trying to accomplish this before three (going on two now) weeks until I go back to school. But I suppose it gives some slight comfort to know that jumping into things and discovering what can go wrong along the way is an impulse which hasn't died entirely in me yet.

However, there are other reasons why I need to do this. Once again, the amount of time I'd gain from only getting 3 to 2 hours of sleep per day are unspeakable. Particularly in the advent of upcoming school? I'm pretty certain that I couldn't have gotten done first semester last year had I not been operating on the Überman. It just opened up so much more time.

Which, of course, beats my need for over 12 hours of sleep (something continually set back until the weekend each week as I must wake up for class each day)…only to wake up groggy and, half the time, sore (not to mention the weakening of back muscles).

However, more than anything, my depression needed it. If you've read my xanga from its very beginning, one of the things I've continually lamented is – at times – a seeming slip in control. At first it was emotions and, I think (funny, no?), memory. Recently it's simply been life. For the past 2 months straight, I've been bogged by a consistant depression. As in, it has not lifted. There was no change, alteration, or simple peace for the past two months. It's like hitting a rut and just staying at that low.

Add to that lack of control my sleep schedule (plus the depression at times). I missed Easter Mass simply because I could not get out of bed. Muscles were working fine, but the brain seemed terrified by the very notion. I stayed in bed for 24 hours that day because of a combination of depression, anxiety, and exhaustion. And, of course, these things feed on each other. Stress and depression make you tired. Being incapable of making arrangements with friends makes you bitter, feeding the depression. And, above all, a feeling of lacking control is not something I can tolerate.

I can put up with people, most days. I can put up with everyone disagreeing with me or even the stupidity that humanity (particular en masse) can exhibit. But I need control. Part of why I can stick by what I say, think, and do is because I know backwards and forwards why I do it. I believe in it. I can back it. That's all I need to know. As long as I know I'm in control of what I'm doing and have a grasp on my surroundings, I'm okay. Being thrown into a new environment (college) and reliving just how socially awkward I am and incapable of doing things when uncertain of myself (mark that with being sociable in general) obviously doesn't help this. Adding depression and an inability to get out of bed? That's too much.

These past two months I've been drifting, more so than even I would want to. I've been distant, I've not bothered to instigate meeting up with people, and I've been beyond my usual un-initiating distant that I usually have with people. Sure, I've always maintained that I friend more extroverted and outgoing people because I need people who will remind me to meet up and keep in touch. But I've fallen behind in nearly all correspondences I've even started. I flat out missed meeting up with Allen this summer. I still have a slew of FB catch ups I need to respond to (including catching up with Emily Lin, for fuck's sake!). I've avoided IM to avoid talking to people. I've just been distant, too thoroughly comfortable with isolating myself like this. I have duties, such as working on Williams Catholic and the Moocow band's websites. But no.

As I've said before, I need purpose, and I need direction. For whatever reason, I lack at the moment. Since starting to try to jump into polyphasic sleeping again, I've broken that depression after two months; I have a goal, and I'm actually trying to accomplish it. Part of it too is, again, how my mood is affected. Having less time in a day exacerbates a feeling of being unable to do anything, which worsens my depression, which worsens my ability to do any of of the simple tasks in the paragraph above.

I need all hours of the day. I work in the night, when it's peacefully beautiful, and I can be alone. The morning, again beautiful, lets me rejuvenate. The day is generally dedicated to everyone else's needs (work, club responsibilities, shopping, etc.). Remove one of these and I don't have enough time. And my depression makes doing anything that belongs during a different time of the day grating because, simply, my depression doesn't want to do it (aren't mood swings fun?).

 

As to the drawbacks, I've never quite understood them. Sure, you have 6 half hour naps placed throughout the day. But they're only 30 minutes. I don't drink, as it is, so I don't have to worry about it crashing my drinking. If I was staying up, I can't imagine anyone I would hang out with would really be bothered by it. Further, if you're staying out for, say, 6 hours – you only miss a half hour of it. Plus, you can nap anywhere (if how they describe your reaction to the schedule is correct). And all the other benefits completely sideline this.

Further, I've already said I handle sleep deprivation fine. I already have to stay up to make up all the responsibilities I have to get done usually, so why the Hell not. Lastly, I have depression – living is a health concern. I get more stress than I normally should. Like I've said before on here, I will be shocked if I don't get type II diabetes by age 25. Shocking me in terms of everything I know about how I treat my body already, the doctor has told me the only thing wrong with me is my good cholesterol (it's scarily low) – so why not free up some time to do the exercise I need to fix that? Lastly – I'm young. And clearly my depression is the only one in favor of doing anything slowly, burning out like a candle.

And, like I've said before, death just doesn't scare me. Not that I don't think it's around the corner (everyday I feel like I could grab it and put it in my own hands, actually) – my quarter life crisis should make that one clear. If anything, I feel far older than I know I have any right to feel. I just…don't give a damn; and, really, this is the best choice. I need this.

I've kept oversleeping the first two days. I thought I found a fool-proof method by using headphones so that the alarm would shock me awake, but I would up sleeping through it for an hour and a half past my wake-time this morning at 8 (which probably wasn't any good for my ears, either…). I don't want to give up yet, though. If I can get past the first two, maybe three, days, I think I'll be golden. We'll see.

 

 

Earlier in the summer, I met up with Victoria and Laura. I forget the surrounding discussion but, at some point, Victoria mentions that Michelle and I should happen as a couple. This was, if my memory serves, shortly after Jeff's graduation party, during which Michelle and I wound up shoving cake down each other's clothes, make snide remarks at each other the entire time, and wound up watching the movie Jeff wanted to show us with me sitting on top of her the entire time (at first in an attempt to annoy her, then not bothering to move because apparently the pressure wound up helping some sore muscle). So, admittedly, I can see where she might've gotten the idea.

Regardless, I immediately told her no (I think my exact response might've been cocking my eyebrow and asking, "Why?"). I told her, for one, that I had a strong feeling that Michelle would say no right out the gate. And, even if that wasn't the case, Michelle and I – I think, at least – wouldn't be a good match. If she was also interested, sure, why the Hell not. But there isn't enough incentive for me to go out on that limb as things stood. Neither of us were so let's leave it at that.

Yesterday (alright, two days ago technically), I came across Michelle's OKCupid account. And I still have no idea what the Hell happened. I was amused and messaged her, both of us bantering as usual. And then…I started looking at her differently. And, again, I have no idea why. I don't know what exactly changed at that point from the other 5 years of our friendship, let alone the time between talking to Victoria and now.

So, it seems I've got a crush – which even I can admit is irresponsible and unwise. Why?

First and foremost, as I said before, Michelle and I don't really make matches for each other. While not a comment on it's supposed accuracy, even OKCupid ranks our chances of being a match at only a 67%. Yeah, I know, people don't have to match up on everything to be a fit but – in my case – they tend to have to.

I don't think I'd describe Michelle as a distant person; we've had serious moments in our friendship where we've really connected, though we haven't spent much time at all expanding that (though, admittedly, I realize now that our friendship hasn't been developed in a lot of ways, which is why we tend to stay on the annoying each other waveline most of the time). That said, though, Michelle even says in her profile that there needs to be a fair level of teasing in the relationship (if Larry was any indication, nothing too different that Michelle and I's friendship right now). And she at least says and puts on a higher self-esteem by far than me (though I do have slight reservations on that assessment). While I seem to be drawn to those with at least a somewhat extrovert personality, I like (really, need) someone with a fair dosage of insecurity, in part to balance my own and in part for other reasons I've listed out here in the past. Laura, jess, and Allison are all perfect examples of this.

Because, while clearly I can have an animated personality and my xanga is a perfect example I can be tersely caustic and raise a little Hell, I'm more often…not. I'm an introvert at heart, and I like myself that way. But, more pertinent to the point we're discussing (and as I said before), I'm insecure. I'm hesitant. I'm, all too often, severely emotional. I have a habit of taking care of others and need to be close to people. And – more than anything – if you're looking for someone wholly independent, I'm not. I've got baggage, a good 15 years of it.

Of course, I could be wrong. Our personalities might mesh just fine. But, from my very limited view, it seems to me that what we would want and need out of a relationship would vary too greatly for us to work long term.

There's also the timing of the stupid thing. Two weeks before I go back to school, I remind. While, actually, I might be more willing to do long distance with her while I explicitly didn't go chasing after other people for that very reason, distance was the splitter for her and Larry. While it seems she might've burned out her need to kinda run freely (again, me guessing), I wouldn't want to launch into something as restrictive as long distance can be on her, especially when that's the opposite of what she wanted out of college to begin with.

Then there's also the fact I've had a crush on Margaret since before she went abroad – and I've been waiting for a semester and a summer until she came back. Of course, while to not the same degree as Michelle and for different reasons, I have a suspicion that Margaret and I aren't quite a perfect fit either. But I know too well what fruits come from constant hesitation. Besides, not like anyone else at Williams has caused me to linger for so long.

But, the overall block that makes any other consideration superfluous is that I'm pretty certain that, even if I asked Michelle out, she'd say no.

And, while I don't really have anything to give evidence that Michelle would do this (and, hence, will not bother to contemplate if such is the case), this whole conversation highlights in my mind a trend I've been noticing with just about anyone I've had an interest in or who has thrown a bit of interest towards me since Laura.

It goes along the line of, "You're a really nice guy and very sweet, etc. but…"

not good enough.

There is something which just holds the person back, makes them willing to pass over me. Now, I know I'm not usually in the habit of building myself up, unless it's clearly joking hyperbole. Excluding a few particular traits, I'm usually willing to find fault. That said…I'm not that bad of a guy.

I'm nice and you basically have every guarantee I'm not going to cheat or deliberately hurt you; any person who's known me since Sophomore year of high school knows that one. I've worked for it; I've been very loud and public about the need to make sure others are alright – there's a reason that's how most of my friends describe me, there's a reason people I've met tend to wind up confiding in me more or coming for advice.

I'm patient; I'm understanding. I'm compassionate. Apparently there's a decent contingent of people who even find me funny.

And, no, even I wouldn't call myself the best catch out there. If you want confidence, probably not best to make me your first choice. I'm eternally awkward in oh so many ways. And, sure, you have to put up with my many high principles; I've got my fair share of what people might call odd habits. I don't fit mainstream appeal, sure.

But if you're asking me to shave, or "do something" with my beard, I have to wonder if you're even acknowledging me.

I've always been very loud about my feelings toward physical appearance. I've written on the subject here God knows how many times. I'll run your ear on the subject if you let me. I actively am particular with my language on account of it and am quick to explain it if you ask me a question along its lines. It's kinda my hallmark crusade, other than Queer rights. It's what I've come to be known for, for some people.

So I cannot understand people who continually ask me if I'm going to shave it, or ask over and over it again why it's a big deal. It's like asking a religious person, "Oh, I know this means a lot to you but could you please urinate on your holy text, for me?" This is one of the central tenets of my ideals. Like, it's very fundamental reason for existence is based on how I feel you should treat others – you remove or violate this and you basically stab everything I hold dear. There's no reason for me to give a damn about anyone else. I mean, I usually like to think there is no one out there as bad as my mother but you operate with the fundamental stupidity she seems to possess when you do this. Because she asks if I'm willing to shave, I explain the whole point of it all, then she asks, "Well, how about we just trim it? See, it won't be that much." And then I explain it again, and we repeat this process indefinitely.

How little it is isn't the point.

And her complete inability to use basic logic to take my explanation and understand why I refuse demonstrates her limited intelligence – people give a complete damn about their appearance, everyone. It can't even enter her head otherwise. And, the mainstream and majority of people she meets do as well. So it must be true. Therefore, it doesn't matter what I say. In her mind, the reason I refuse is because of how much hair I'm cutting. Because, from her mindset, this is the only piece that fits.

And that is the brain-dead intelligence you wield when you ask me the same question.

But more importantly, I can't remember if I've discussed point of view on here much. People's inability to see things from other people's point of view is one of my biggest complaints. It would resolve a lot of misunderstandings and hurt feelings, for one. But, two, it doesn't seem like such a difficult ability to me; yet it seems to be.

But I'm fascinated by other's point of view. My obsession with the human personality (and, thus, a person's life experiences) fascinate me. I'm willing to try to understand where someone is coming from. I might not agree with them in the end. But I'm interested. Notice that I've described here a willingness to date a person if they also show interest (admittedly, as Dodi once said, someone liking me can often go a long way in having me like them). I might be hesitant to try it otherwise, but I'd certainly be willing to try it out if they're interested in me.

I'm willing to give it a chance.

It just seems to be that no one is really interested in even bothering to consider what I hold dear and what I find to be amazing. I mean, sure, if it was something like archaeology and no one else found it interesting (not that no one would date me because I like it, because that'd just be stupid of people), I would say, "Fine, fair." And this is not me asking rando number 3 off the street, either. This is, for one example, Monica, someone I've known for years now, someone (of all people) who should know my politics by now. Yet the very most fundamental aspect of me, the one to which – I would argue – you have to understand in order to understand me, comes with an "Well, if…" criteria.

Once again, as if no one quite gives a damn; as if my very principles (and cares) are negotiable and excusable as far as the world is concerned.

I just feel alone.

 

 

J: If I were a fermata, would you hold me? 

    Btw, I'm sensitive and you have a habit for teasing, it seems. Do you think that could feasibly be a problem??

M: With a beard like that, NOTHING is a problem. But I'm going to have to call you ducky. Do you like purple drink?

J: Haha, well, I think ducky is a small concession in comparison to that *last* question. But you're too tempting for me to resist, my belle Juive.

M: There is no way you could handel me, ever. But nice try. I am faster better stronger smarter prettier and I win more. You will never beat me. NEVER, I SAY!

J: Who said anything about beating you?! That's completely a fabricated stereotype about black males in relationships, you must know that!

    However, it seems you're issuing me a challenge. And I can be quite stubborn on principle.

M: You know what, Jawn? Suck. My. Cock.

    While you're at it, order me a pizza and tell me I'm pretty.

J: Oooh, I love it when you talk dirty.

    And have I ever told you how you always just seem to glow? Your graciousness and joyous nature inspires everyone in the room. It's no wonder they hang on your every word. Aphrodite herself would blush deeply red in jealousy of the way your eyes catch the light, or the coaxing passion of your smile. You are radiant, m'dear.

M: Why thank you, vagina face. I love you, too. YOU NEED TO HANG OUT WITH US BEFORE YOU GO BACK TO SCHOOL, YOU ASSHAT D:<

    I miss being mean to you ):

 

I suppose I haven't done a thorough (nor, often enough, coherant) personal entry in a while.

If you want to know a fundamental aspect of me (that, actually, I don't really talk about often), I consider how one acts (all the time) to be the embodiment of their sentiments. In other words, practice what you preach. If you wouldn't say it in front of the person, what in the world makes you think it alright to say it when they're not around? Or, to use a familiar example, – if you're being monogamous and it's not an open relationship – you shouldn't be thinking/fantasizing about other people when dating or married to someone else. I am in no way a supporter of, "You can look, but you can't touch."

And, as I've mentioned on here in probably plentiful heaps, I am not a supporter of physical attractiveness. It's basically wired into us genetically, yes, but – like, for example, choosing to have sex or not – it's still a choice as to what decisions you make surrounding the subject. Simply, such a system (and the way we've made how we react in society to it and the way we talk about it and the way we treat it have truly have made it a system) that excludes others I can never give approval to. I have played with the idea (in part because I've noticed that our actual obsessions about attractiveness tend to be unhealthy and also very narrow, thereby skipping over many aspects that I don't understand why they don't receive more attention – read here for full understanding) of every person pursuing the totality of their own personal tastes in attractiveness (since, – arguably – in a society that treats attractiveness in a healthy and nonjudgmental way, the diversity of everyone's tastes would be wide enough that there couldn't possibly be significant overlap when comparing person to person) since the theory would be that the result is everyone gets covered somewhere in being considered attractive. However, if I'm being honest, everyone wouldn't. That's the entire reason behind my protest to begin with. And, even if everyone wasn't, if there's only someone in Asia who would find someone in North America attractive (let's assume near worst case here) and neither person moves, that person in North America will still overwhelmingly likely die alone.

The fact of the matter is that there will consistently be people who are cheated out of this system because they didn't fit the bill in requirements that they had absolutely no control over – their genetics.

So, knowing all this about me, I'm having dinner with my friend Chelsea and my cousin Dominique earlier today. I forget at what point the conversation changed but I remember Chelsea or Dods asking me if I'll shave.

For those who don't know me in real life, I provide photographic evidence of my hairiness:

I've never shaved. I started growing facial hair around 4th or 5th grade, and I've never dissuaded the little guys. As you might imagine, my beard didn't exactly grow in perfectly. It came in patches (which, looking back, looked pretty damn ridiculous – more so than now – back in the day). Not trimming it means I have over-confidant strands that try to stick out by being longer than the rest.

As you might imagine, I've had people try to convince me to get rid of the food collector. Every time I go back home – guess what my mom and aunt talk about? My friends (as Chelsea and Dodi might have given you clue to)? You bet. People I've just met (though I actually tend to get the affirmative from people I just met more often)? Oh, definitely.

Some people even just downright amuse me (and infuriate me intellectually). Some people, believe it or not, actually get angry at me. Like, visibly frustrated as if they're talking to an ignorant, stubborn individual (forgive my over-self-confidence). I've seen that type of frustration and determination before. It's generally the reaction that my dad gets when I happened to not iron a shirt. "Why have you disobeyed society's rules?!?!" It's the frustration of someone who is doing something simply because they've been told to and don't seem to have the will-power to remotely question it (or, at least, allow others to autonomously deal with the situation in the way they choose and not simply accept the fact that the other person's decision isn't going to effect them anyway). I'm not saying that everyone reacts that way. But some do.

No, most people, I'd say, tell me to shave (or at least trim) out of a sincere desire to see the best for me or because they earnestly believe in the notion of shaving. I don't view them as being intellectually retarded (I am using retarded by its definition, not as a swipe at the mentally disabled/retarded), at the very least.

Now, let me explain why I refuse to shave. As I said at the beginning of this, I feel that all your actions (private and public) should reflect your beliefs. As you might imagine, I take to heart Gandhi's words, "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." So, I partially will not shave because, for that minority out there that literally have their entire world view challenged when they encounter the ferocity of my androgens, they inspire my perilous fight every time they visibly become utterly uncomfortable. I feel it's every living individual's duty to challenge them and better them.

The other reason goes back to my other continuous fight – attractiveness. Apparently, I'd be really attractive if I'd just shaved. I've been so told many times, often in an attempt to convince me to shave (apparently my very public stance about physical attractiveness somehow doesn't invalidate this as an argument point in people's minds). In fact, this was the stressed part in Chelsea and Dods argument. I seem to not "realize the opportunities that are open to [me] at the moment." Apparently there's a very attractive girl that's within my reaches if only I'd just shave (to quote Chelsea, were the girl gay, she'd totally go after her). Also she seems to be intelligent according to the two (a better selling point, in my humble opinion, than the previous one). And, considering that I've been single for the past three years (roughly), what's not to like about this situation? All it would take is a simple shaving. 5 minutes of my time for a badly done job.

However, I refuse to accept or endorse this system. I don't like it. Not one bit. And I don't want to support it. Others may believe in it – fine, they certainly have every right to. But don't make me do so. Because, as I've said, someone gets cut out of this system. And, frankly, that's all I need to know. That's all that governs my life; there's no way you will ever make headway with me if someone else is getting disadvantaged. I'm a humanistic Catholic; I promise you, all further arguments are useless on me if the integrity and respect of each individual is not kept in mind. It honestly gets no more complicated than that.

And if principle isn't enough to sway you, then consider this. You want a companion that will care more about you than just what you look like? Take both Emma and Laura, if you will. Laura hated my beard and Emma tried (though not too hard, nicely enough) to convince me to shave too. Both dated me in spite of the beard anyway. Know what that tells me? Despite my position and my unwillingness to budge on it, they still were invested or interested in me enough to put that aside. Sure, it can be scratchy and, therefore, unpleasant. That's a reasonable argument. However, part of also why I keep it is to weed out where the attention is being placed in my relationships. I could safely shave with either Emma or Laura, were I still dating either, without worrying about such a minimal change being a maker or breaker for the relationship.

Now, honestly, I'm flattered that someone apparently would be willing to consider to date me (tells you how much attention I usually get, don't it?). I was thoroughly amused by Chelsea and Dodi's pleading. But, in the end, I still stand where I've stood in the past. I'm not willing to sell out to this pathetic system or lower my standards just because I'm lonely. If someone can get me an argument, fine. But no one has been able to convince me in the 7 some years I've had these opinions.

And, if you're unable to still get behind the appearance argument, consider this. The beard is not dirty. Hell, I don't have dry skin around my chin, so it's not like there's even dandruff. Basically, the fuss is just being made over unkempt hair. If we apply this to the top of my head and pretended I didn't have a beard, it's the equivalent of someone not wanting to date me just because I don't comb my hair. I can be successful, a good student, kind, considerate, funny, etc. But I don't comb my hair.

Yeah, I really want to date her too.

 

[note: I should mention that this is all under the very tentative knowledge I've been given of the girl. She may not actually be interested in me and it's just my cousin and friend getting all in a twixt and jumping the gun. However, if she is interested in me and simply will not go forward with that due to my beard, I honestly think that's shallow. I don't generally like slinging insults but, if I'm being honest, that's what it boils down to. However, given my overall lack of concrete knowledge here, who knows where things actually stand]

 

Finding the right person to date, for me, tends to be a more...complicated affair than I ever like. See, fundamentally, even regardless of any other possible traits, there is always a particular trait that I want that, in essence, tends to be (what I feel is) a reflection of myself - I want complexity. Not in the most general sense but in that you near contradict yourself.

As both Laura and jess are a testament to, I tend to prefer someone with an incredibly engagable personality, most often articulated in a public personality that is often completely agreeable. In fact, it often borders on being mistaken for being simplistic and, by extension, stupid (which, really, makes far more sense than you might initially assume; if people were to look only at my sense of humor, I'm either the driest individual you may come by or, on the other side of the spectrum, a complete asshole who completely banks on shock value for any sort of reaction or poor sex jokes. Focus on one aspect of anyone and you miss the possible complexity of their personality. This is just more easy a crime to commit since the public personality is the one we see of a person most often and, for some, entirely).

However, you'd be a fool (and also a bit of an ass) to assume as much. Get to know the person and they're utterly intelligent, often troubled, very much self-aware (ironically, even if they themselves aren't aware of it), etc.

And it's often such specificity that screws me over. I need someone who's patient enough and able to push me enough to deal with my intense shyness. At the same time, I need someone shy enough to not be domineering and to allow me take a leading role as well.

I want someone who actually challenges me. If I can sum them up easily (and, with so many people, that isn't that difficult), there's a problem. Which, in and of itself, often implies constant contradiction. Passionate, yet able to be subdued when appropriate in certain situations. Have to be independent and able to stand on their own, yet not optimally happy that way so they need someone to lean on and get support from (hence a huge component on most relationships). Someone jaded enough to not be happy-go-lucky yet willing to believe there's more out there. Like I've said before here, I need a dreamer. I need someone who feels that utterly pull to chase something. If you're not looking forward, you'll clash heavily with my own personality.

 

And part of that is what I feel is a huge problem - I need someone, in a sense, who is troubled.

I have clinical depression, along with a..."pleasant" childhood. I have a taste for the warped. The dark and dreary is not something which will not forever be a component of my life. As I've said before here, I don't plan to - and probably couldn't - cut that out of my life.

I like more extreme things. While I often being incredibly straight-lace in almost anything, I can look at things with a fascinated impartiality (I told my cousin, off a random thought, yesterday to try reading Catcher In the Rye but with Holden having a sexual crush on Phoebe, largely to just gross out my cousin, but also because the perversity of such a reading actually being possible is intriguing, when you really think about it). And that impartiality, as well as a bit of my hyperbolic sense of humor, is partially how I approach the world.

I don't want to hold back.

And I don't want to necessarily fall into old conventions about things but would rather explore something and decide for myself what to think of it all.

I'm being far too vague but I couldn't put things into more specific a way without going into specific examples, at which point things would be so specified that we'd need many examples in order to cover everything I'm talking about in every different case they might show up as.

 

My point is - pain, suffering, disillusionment, fear, even anger, are all very human. And while I don't want to be yelled at, I do want to see all of those things. You cannot possibly be completely un-traumatized by some point in your life or even your present. Share that. It's a part of you. Plus to be devoid of such things is boring.

People are messy. People are not perfect and they're incapable of being packaged in these nice little boxes.

Do not try to shove yourself into one of them. Frustration can be endearing and it's not something I don't want to deal with.

While, yes, being happy and getting along and being enjoyable is nice, that's not all of who we are. And, I guess, what I'm trying to say...you're more interesting that way so why hide it? Why deal with it in private.

I want someone who's able to control themselves and yet can be a mess. I want fucking complexity. Be varied, be vast, be radiant.