Father

  • I lost my ID yesterday. I honestly don't understand how. I used it to swipe into my cousin's dorm, then (before leaving the dorm for the first time) I noticed I didn't have it. So, since it couldn't be anywhere but in the dorm, we look for it throughout everywhere I went in the dorm. Nope. She still hasn't found it today.

    It had $8.75 on it and cost 10 dollars to get a new one. As you might imagine, I'm not happy about it.

    So, when my mother calls, I tell her I've lost it. While I can do it, I'm not the biggest fan of keeping bad things in and prefer telling people. She, of course, is disappointed, makes a noise similar to, "Oh, honey…" and tells me how I shouldn't've. Do you see an issue yet? I tell her what happened, how I have no clue how I could've lost it.

    At the end of this conversation, she tells me my dad wants to talk to me, so I start talking to him. A little ways in, I hear her ranting in the background, loudly, and in a clearly angry fashion (this is a habit of hers when she's mad at someone and is very specific. It's hard to explain, unfortunately, but just keep in mind I'm used to this type of rant. Basically, it includes tearing the person down, pointing out how she thinks they're an idiot and cannot believe that they managed to do something so stupid, and making really ugly faces that are a mixture of anger, mockery, and disdain).

    You see, that sad and sympathetic voice that I first heard is the tactic she adopted when she realized I was not going to put up with her bullshit and would simply ignore her or yell back at her if she decided to act pugnaciously. So instead of getting mad, she'd try to nicely push her agenda.

    I say agenda because, if I actually did something wrong, I might get angry at the fact that yelling at a person is not the right way to deal with stuff, but I could understand the need for some sort of punishment. If it's really stupid then, yes, a yelling-at is reasonable.

    However, taking this instance as an example, I did not reasonably lose my ID. Both I and my cousin remember me swiping us in. Therefore, it had to be somewhere in the dorm. We searched the dorm. It could not be found. Even a day later, it was not found. Further, the reason why I rarely worry when I lose stuff is because I operate almost on a ritual-like level. I keep things in a certain order (phone, ID, and wallet in left pocket and glasses and keys in the right pocket) always. I continually check it throughout the day so that, if one is missing, I right away know and can make sure to find it. If I can't find it, it's likely someplace I was at. I retrace my steps, and I usually find it. 99% of the time, this works. And I do something like it for all my stuff. Now, occasionally I slip up and leave something completely out of the way so that I struggle finding it. And, admittedly (I get irritated at this too), I'm a bit of a forgetful person. Forgetting things is something I sometimes do. This is why I have this system in the first place.

    But…I did not leave this someplace I usually don't. In fact, for me to not immediately put the ID back in my pocket is uncharacteristic of me (nor does it make much sense, for anyone to not do that). For me not to set it down in the room if I did not put it in my pocket doesn't make much sense either. And, of course, for it not to be in the only place I was at when I lost it makes little sense either.

    I'm very much willing to argue that blame should not be put on me, here. I'm as bitter as anyone for the loss of money here, but I was not irresponsible. Try to give me an argument as to how I was because I don't understand how I could be.

    My dad said, when I told him, "And only been 2 months, huh?" Now, he was joking, so I'm not too irritated, but it really was a bad moment to do so. Let's keep in mind that I didn't lose it at all last year. I think I'm allowed at least once? God knows, I make mistakes (shocking, isn't it?).

    In other words, it's an agenda (and this is in general so it can apply for cases outside of this instance) because she wants to push her ideas (you shouldn't lose an ID, etc.) instead of understanding I'm not in a position for blame or that her ideas are wrong in whatever specific case. Plus it's kinda insulting that she just wants to rant and it's fine I'm the sacrifice, isn't it?

    So, what does my mother choosing to act all nice and then rant insultingly towards me when she's off the phone to the rest of my family mean?

    1. A severe lack of respect. Oh, would you look at that, one of the major dislikes (and I'm usually pretty easy going, as most who know would could attest). Surprising? Hah…
    2. She's not listening to me. Another major dislike. Because that was always the biggest problem. I am ruled by logic and reason. My mother doesn't know how to understand logic or reason. So any argument as to why I do things or what I think is right is pretty much ignored (it also leads to them totally not knowing me at all, which is further irritating). So, remember how I'm irritated by her Agenda? Well, clearly why I get mad at her ranting is lost on her. All she understands is I don't like it, so she changes the tactic without realizing why I actually dislike what she does.
    3. Which brings us here. I can't stand stupidity/an unwillingness to change or learn. That's why I really get pissed at most of what my mother does - because, being stupid, she does stupid things and, since not actually having a reason to back up what she does and simply strongly believing in it, she adamantly does them and blocks out all else. Case in point - the ranting. It's that she explicitly decides not to do what I try to teach her she does by then passionately ranting about me behind my back. I hate stupidity. That's the action that will piss me off more than anything - an action motivated by stupidity and no logical backing.

     

     

    I hate my parents (as if anyone didn't know by now).

  • cleangene17 (9:11:58 PM): Well, mostly I wanted to check on you to make sure you were OK.

    Wamm K D (9:12:24 PM): I'm still breathing; all is as usual

     

    This still makes me laugh.

  • (no, this isn't the next installment either. I'll write it soon, Kaz, I promise)

         I became a writer because I wanted to see God.
         You know, God? The way you wake up on a cold morning, glance out the newly breath-stained window and smile weakly at the way the piss-yellow sunlight (on the days you've happened to actually bothered to drink the right amount of water, for whatever reason) compliments the cool steel outside your window and the filter that smoke makes as it wafts through.
         Or you've walked into someone's room and they've painted this little girl across their walls, in too many shades of metallic gray; she spiders across the wood, breaching the corners with those downturn eyes, the fabrics of her being unraveling in the frozen moment. He said he'd painted her so that even when he started rotting from not being found, life wouldn't be able to escape him.
         Or the crumpled sheets at the pitch of night as she trails her arm along his, hearing his pounding heart and hoping it's to chase her should she run away. The spiderweb strands of her hair trail lightly onto his face, clinging a hold of the brunette wire that grows from him. The top of his head has started to try curling, but it hasn't grown out long enough yet. He's staring toward the ceiling, his leg on hers so to frame her body, balanced between the task of grasping and falling off the side of the bed.
         But it seems God would rather show than gift.

     

     

     

    cleangene17 (7:58:41 PM): Jonathan, are you out there?

    cleangene17 (8:03:23 PM): We' re going to have to borrow about 40.00 dollars from your account because we just don't have enough money foe gas or food for.next week, so please don't take any out.  I am sorry about our emergency...  please send a quick IM back so that I know you got this.

  • cleangene17 (1:38:35 AM): I can never tell if you're awake or not?  Well, our money situation has gotten so bad that I have been asked to request that you send us a care package.  <IMG

    cleangene17 (1:39:22 AM): Be glad that you,ve got a 21 meal plan!

    cleangene17 (1:39:54 AM): Sleep well, Jonathan.

     

     

    Ummm, thanks?

  • So, I found this article (http://www.momaroo.com/704579025/loud-children-in-restaurants-the-not-so-silent-killer/) and realized an old post of mine would answer it better than I could. I also just really liked that section of my old post, for a score of reasons. From May 8ʰ of this year:

    However, the topic does bring us to another topic. Ever been somewhere with your parents and there's a group that's somewhere near in the social setting? And, of course, mom or dad mentions something like, "Can't those kids sit still?" or "Why are they so loud?" And, of course, you can't help but think both statements are ridiculous. But, more so, it goes back to that basic tenement of whatever pleases and makes you happy to a tee isn't necessarily what you ought to expect. There are others in this world. Actually think of them (father dearest, start taking notes). I guess when people act out, or against what's "publically/socially acceptable", I always want to object, "So?" If someone's happy - cherish that. For the sake of God, cherish that. For a world stricken by lies, two-faced...ness, cheating, depression, lack of proper self-esteem, betrayal, physical parental abuse - and the many, many et cetera, this person is happy. Geez, let them have that! I honestly think, if you don't just live at least once in your life - what's the point? Take a risk, make a fool of yourself, cuss pointlessly, sing to yourself in public (I apparently wasn't loud enough to get odd glances at the park today), play the penis game in a public sphere, just do something that reminds others how badly we construct expectations that have no real (logically held-up) reason for being followed. So, okay, yeah, they're being loud and disrupting others just a bit. They're also 14. And have more screwed up domestic issues than you want to sift through. Let 'em be...not like they're harming anyone or being immoral. Let them have the moment.

  •  

    Lights out tonight - trouble in the heartland
    Got a head-on collision - smashing in my guts, man
    I'm caught in a crossfire...that I don't understand...

    But there's one thing I know for sure - girl,
    I don't give a damn - for the same old played out scenes
    Baby, I don't give a damn - for just the inbetweens

    Honey, I want the heart, I want the soul,
    I want control right now -
    You better listen to me baby

    Talk about a dream - try to make it real
    You wake up in the night - with a fear, so real
    You spend your life waiting for a moment - that just don't come

    Well, don't waste your time waiting!

    Badlands!
    You gotta live them everyday
    Let the broken heart stand as the price you gotta pay...
    Keep - pushin' 'til it's understood
    And these Badlands start treating us good...

    Working in the field - 'til you get your back burned...
    Workin' 'neath the wheels...'til you get your facts learned...
    Baby, I got my facts - learned real good right now...

    You better get it straight, darlin'!
    Poor man wanna be rich - rich man wanna be king
    And the king ain't satisfied 'til he rules everything
    I wanna go out tonight - I wanna find out what I've got

    Well, I believe in the love - that you gave me
    I believe in the faith - that can save me
    I believe in the hope and I pray - that someday
    It - may - raise me - above these -

    Badlands!
    You gotta live them everyday
    Let the broken heart stand as the price you gotta pay...
    Keep - pushin' 'til it's understood
    And these Badlands start treating us good...
    Woah, woah, woah!

    Hmmm...hmmm, hmm...
    Hmmmmmhmmmhmmhm...
    Hmmmmmhmmmhmm...
    Hmmmhmhmmhmhmhmm...
    This is for the ones who have a notion...a notion deep inside
    That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive
    I wanna find one face - that ain't looking through me
    I wanna find one place - I wanna - spit - in the face of these -

    Badlands!
    You gotta live them everyday
    Let the broken heart stand as the price you gotta pay...
    Keep - pushin' 'til it's understood
    And these Badlands start treating us good...
    -Bruce Springsteen

    I remember, some years back, I "apparently" left the browser open with my xanga in it and my dad just "happened" to find and read it. Clearly I still don't entirely trust the sincerity of his claim. Nonetheless, he read parts of it. As he was telling me about this, he mentioned that a lot of it was lyrics, "lots and lots of lyrics".

    Well, yes, this is true. In fact, some posts are nothing but lyrics (or a song, in the case of the last entry). But so what? Those lyrics are just as important. Even if it only gives you a vague sense of what was going on for me at the time, they certainly say a deal about, the person, me.

    I've been re-listening to (read as: rediscovering the beauty of) Darkness On the Edge of Town. Really, the second to forth albums I'm rediscovering. I've gotten used to just picking out favorite songs knowing that classic albums were there that I'd not listened to the albums themselves anymore.

    It's absolutely fantastic. I forgot how much of a more conventional rock album it really is (I so would love to see a heavy metal version of Adam Raised a Cain someday). At the same time, while one of the highlights of Born to Run was being able to hear the guitar, piano, and Sax beautifully featured, Darkness gives us the pleasure of the harmonica as well.

    It's not the epic that Born to Run was, that's definitely true. You won't get utter genius gems like Jungleland. But you do get treated to an album that doesn't deserve a skip through all its 10 tracks (granted, even more so than Born to Run). And one that definitely makes you relate and you feel like can be pertinent to your life.

    Besides, the album has Promised Land - a rousing track that (I admit) I like more than even Badlands. Badlands beats at lyrics just a bit more but the instrumentation and delivery on Promised Land totally just win it over.

    I remember I read somewhere that The River was meant to capture both the good in life and the bad. I would argue that Darkness does this far better. My biggest issue with River is that there are a good deal of filler tracks. You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch) sounds fantastic as a rock 'n' roll song (the live version is downright fantastic), but the lyrics (and overall message) could use more specificity and clarity. Other songs lack the sound to reel you in as well as similar lyrics.

    Meanwhile, Darkness has uplifting songs and downright depressing. But it also has those which strike some kind of medium. I wouldn't be one to label Candy's Room as necessarily utterly uplifting. Yet the overall message is an escape. It's utterly fantastic, really.

    Plus, even the possibly weak (lyrically) track, Streets of Fire, uses the lack of clarity and specificity in its lyrics to its total advantage - the people it's talking about "don't really exist".

    Forgive me, but these albums are far more substantial and hard hitting than most of anything he's been releasing these days (harsh, but c'mon - he's set a precedence by now, I'm allowed to hold him to it).

    On another note, I really want to learn For You for the piano this summer. I'll have to do it by ear, since I can't seem to find any sheet music (I've had enough piano lessons to technically know how to figure it out by guitar tabs, but I'm just terrible at retaining some information). Ought to be fun.

  • Mother's Day today. Due to the constant pestering of my mother, I remembered to call her today. It was mercifully short. For the sake of avoiding confusion, I'll cut to the point of this entry.

    I was slightly given focus today when I realized the exact role of a parent. Parents never got good marks in my book. This is largely because past experiences which overwhelmingly surprise me. While my own parents give me the feeling of wanting to throw up, it does still surprise me that so many others I knew had parents of similar, pitiful fashions. I mean, that so many line up similarly makes me want to be baffled. For the sake of avoiding names, I won't delve into further examples of people I will harm if I ever meet them again.What has also surprised me is how much these sons and daughters still cling to these parents, but I've always been a straightforward person - wrong is wrong. Granted, I've always been quick to forgive, and the only reason my parents are a decent exception is because they've pushed the limit until it's bloodily ruptured. I forget that not everyone feels their parents have done the same (thus, the rule of forgiveness isn't eradicated for them).

    Parents are...I dunno, just "things". They are there, and, thus, we react to them. They may be the antagonists but that they hold any more significance is lost on me. Of course, that doesn't mean I haven't felt some sort of emotional response to them (other than disdain). I chide myself for it because that they don't deserve the sentimentalities is just scratching the surface. But sure - not a feeling I voice often (more so because it's just not one felt often) yet I've certainly mentioned once on here wanting some form of connection with them. There's plenty I admire of them or think good qualities. And then...there's the other side.

    So, for the majority of things, I sit pretty much apathetic to the entire thing. I don't understand deep connections with them. I don't get what it's like to have someone to look up to, a role model, or someone constantly there to comfort you (at least in the role of a parent. My cousins and siblings are fine substitutes (in my opinion), and my extended family (friends) are wonderful as well). Not to say I'm better off without, of course. In fact, it's an experience I'd wish to no one. There's much to gain from it, but it's like saying, "Thank God for war," just so we know what peace is. It's neither necessary nor more beneficial.


    (to think pictures were impossible back when I had dial-up)

    I don't get those. And that's not an exaggeration (though I admit it's comical in how much it seems so even to me). Particularly that first one. I don't know what's so abstract of having so close a relationship with someone in that role, but the idea baffles me. Almost like it's against the way things naturally work. I love you? It's a phrase said just to keep her happy, so the peace is maintained and she doesn't guilt herself to death knowing otherwise (she thinks my refusal to want to talk to her often or utter the words are just me being my normal aloof and distant self). Raised me? I had to raise myself. I'd be a racist and animal abuser if you raised me. I'd be a bigot, a hypocrite, a liar (and so in denial I'd justify it every turn), and beyond selfish. Car rides were a struggle to stay as enveloped in my own head and distant from my dad as possible as he just never understood or got it. I guess that really is it - they were events, things to react to - not relationships or connections.

    So Happy Mothers Day? It's a made up holiday for me. I don't get it. Literally, I have no feelings towards it. Normally, I wouldn't've even written this entry for it. But thoughts ought to be transcribed. So, if you have a parent and you cherish, love, and appreciate them - let them know. I don't know what that's like - but you do.

     

    **That was far more revealing an entry than I had anticipated. I hadn't meant for that. If anything, I just wanted to transcribe the idea than say anything emotionally disturbing. So, I'm very sorry about that. 'Twas unintended.

  • One of the drawbacks of having a penis: when you're swinging on a swing set, it's like constantly crushing a piece of your body the entire time. So then you try to shift it, you know, so you don't flatten the poor thing. But then it's laying on top of your leg; and it's not like there isn't enough heat they're being subjected to with the stupid seat of the swing crushing your thighs together. By the end, you're stuck wishing you could simply detach and reattach your reproductive order whenever you wish. That would be sweet. And very difficult.

    I honestly do have to wonder how I end up with so large a group of the female sex for friends. For this time period, you'd think otherwise.

    Which reminds me of Sophomore year, as a Freshman Lilia openly adjusted her bra and, I think, complained about her period. Oddly enough, she decides to remark that she really shouldn't be telling me this stuff later. To which I must react - why? Like I don't know you're wearing a bra. Or that you have a period. It's like we give such minuscule stuff a feeling that we shouldn't be talking or sharing it. One of my favorite things about the Ancient Greeks was their public bathrooms.

    Just a slew of connected toilets with no walls between them. And they just sat their and, as they did their universal business, discussed whatever a normal conversation would cover. Fantastic! No worries about embarrassment over non-embarressing stuff. But really, the more pressing and important question of this matter was why I didn't try to do more with a girl so open about her bra. The possibilities were probably endless. But, for another day.

    However, the topic does bring us to another topic. Ever been somewhere with your parents and there's a group that's somewhere near in the social setting? And, of course, mom or dad mentions something like, "Can't those kids sit still?" or "Why are they so loud?" And, of course, you can't help but think both statements are ridiculous. But, more so, it goes back to that basic tenement of whatever pleases and makes you happy to a tee isn't necessarily what you ought to expect. There are others in this world. Actually think of them (father dearest, start taking notes). I guess when people act out, or against what's "publically/socially acceptable", I always want to object, "So?" If someone's happy - cherish that. For the sake of God, cherish that. For a world stricken by lies, two-faced...ness, cheating, depression, lack of proper self-esteem, betrayal, physical parental abuse - and the many, many et cetera, this person is happy. Geez, let them have that! I honestly think, if you don't just live at least once in your life - what's the point? Take a risk, make a fool of yourself, cuss pointlessly, sing to yourself in public (I apparently wasn't loud enough to get odd glances at the park today), play the penis game in a public sphere, just do something that reminds others how badly we construct expectations that have no real (logically held-up) reason for being followed. So, okay, yeah, they're being loud and disrupting others just a bit. They're also 14. And have more screwed up domestic issues than you want to sift through. Let 'em be...not like they're harming anyone or being immoral. Let them have the moment.

    I rediscovered why I loved Metallica again today. I dunno if it's just because I grew up to it, am just used to it, or whatever, but I love the full sound of an electric guitar. Amazing instrument.

    Yeah...trust I seek
        and I find in you
    Everyday for us something new...
    Open mind for a different view
    And nothing else matters
    (-Metallica)

    There was some seemingly unrealated rant I was going to go with that...Sabbath, anyone?

    I wonder if I have to serve Sunday Mass this week. Probably. I usually do. Williams' Secular Community party on Saturday. Plus all my homework. And Work. Should be fun....

    Hmm, yeah...totally can't think of what else I was going to say. Which is odd, because I could've sworn...huh. Definitely one of my more...free-form flowing thought...like entries. I'm usually not this flitty. Random topics FTW, I suppose.

    Oh, do you believe in Rock 'n' Roll?
    Can music save your immortal soul?
    And can you teach me how to dance...real slow?
    -Don McLean

    Heh, I'm such a product of the suburbs...

  •       Another thing that used to rile me but which I afterwards enjoyed was his complete indifference and, almost, disdain for my appearance. Never, either by word or look, was there a hint that he thought me pretty: on the contrary, he would make a wry face and laugh when people complimented me on my looks in front of him. He took a positive pleasure in picking out my defects and teasing me about them. The fashionable clothes in which Katya liked to dress me up and the way she did my hair for festive occasions only provoked his mockery, mortifying the kind-hearted Katya and at first disconcerting me. Katya, having made up her mind that he admired me, was quite unable to understand his not liking to see the woman he admired shown off to the best advantage. But I quickly came to see what was behind it. He wanted to be sure that I was devoid of vanity.[...]My hair, my hands, my face, my ways - whether good or bad, it seemed to me he had appraised them all at a glance and knew them so well that I could add nothing to them[...]. I felt that from whatever angle he saw me, whether sitting or standing, with my hair up or down, all of me was known to him and, I fancied, satisfied him. If, contrary to his practice, he had suddenly told me, as other people did, that I was beautiful, I believe I should have been anything but pleased. But, on the other hand, how happy and light-hearted I would feel when, after something I had said, he would gaze at me intently and say in a voice charged with emotion which he would try to hide with a humorous note:
          "Yes, oh yes, there is something about you. You're a fine girl, that I must admit."
    -Happy Ever After, Leo Tolstoy, pages 25-26

    I'll readily admit, for those that know me, opening as I just have is no surprise. I ought to probably note that there's more going on in that passage and I took what I needed and liked from it (though that often does happen when you take but a piece from a larger work). It's a disheartening piece, for they go from a practically idyllic love to something I would regard as settling; yet I know what Tolstoy meant to say with it. In any case, I suppose I ought to get to the point of this entry sometime soon...

    We (myself, siblings, and mother) were sitting in the car before a doctor's appointment and the conversation came about to when my parents first dated. I believed this happened because it was prefaced by me and my brother noting she wasn't a virgin her wedding night (partly to point at the hypocrisy of her abstinence only stance - though, as most know, I'm very pro-abstinence while my brother is on the fence since last I talked to him - and also to bother her since we have no issue of talking about sex while, for her, it depends on her mood and situation; more than often, it's amusing uncomfortability). So, she notes that the first time she met my dad was at Market Fax (crudely referred to as Market Fags due to the amount of Queer people that often worked there); she, of course, doesn't bother to mention the FTM transsexual who happen to set them up together (honestly, for a straight couple, my parents had the gayest adolescence when they dated; I should have a post dedicated to when they went out sometime).

    We ventured into what is essentially the same stories we've heard a million times before, though I enjoyed hearing them anyway. Stuff like the first time my dad tried to pick my mom up for a date and how she thought he had a cute butt when they worked at Market Fax. Of course, I can't help but note that the cute butt line comes at the expense of her now current (continual) detractions of his appearance now (as if he could magically hold back the pressings of time all on his own) or the detractions she levies towards my siblings and myself. However, I enjoy these stories because they give some color or background to these people who I've had to basically sever as well as I can from my life. Talking the past (i.e. before I was born) was always something rarely done so that I don't know much of my ancestors or my parents' life before hand. And, for someone who obsesses about the past and loves history as much as myself, this is a travesty. More so, though, I think I like to think there was a time when they were in love.

    Of course, that sentence implies they aren't in love now. Which I think could be accurate enough of a statement. Or at least not a healthy love. Their communication is terrible. They constantly insult each other (and then wonder why the other ones gets pissed off). They're fantastically selfish (which is an obvious no-no in a relationship). And they aren't there for each other anymore. I mean, of course, I'm talking from an outside view; and while they've told me their own woes about the other from their very own mouths (and I stumbled across a few journal writings of my dad's on accident one time), for the most part I am speaking from an outside view. I readily admit this. Yet they don't even seem interested in each other. Being young and hopeful and, possibly, naïve, I have very idylic perfect ideas of love. Given that, I'm will to argue (from my very unexperienced viewpoint) that there is merit to them and no reason to believe they can't exist or happen. So I lament dearly at the fact my parents never seem to really talk beyond the day to day stuff. They own interactions are built on the jobs they have to do for the day. I rarely see them (even when they're unaware I'm viewing them) interact in a way outside of what chore needs to be done. Even their kiss when they see each other is done as if it's another thing in the schedule. And their laments never end....

    And so I'm reminded of Junior year. I believe we were talking about the relationship I had at the time and we happen to come to trust. I'll admit, rather assuredly, I said that I'd trust Victoria (Mendez) with my life, to which my mother objects with the style of one sympathetically correcting one she knows to be inexperienced (I've said this story before, if it's sounding familiar). She then proceeds to tell me that she rarely trusts anyone. She specifically says she doesn't trust my sister to sleep over my uncle's house for fear he may touch her (out of the ordinary, that is to say). She even (I almost want to say boasts) didn't trust my father for the first few years after they were married (and she wonders why I object to dating a total of 2 years (or less) only before marrying). Now, I understand worrying about making poor choices on the behalf of others for fear of failing them. How do you possibly look at yourself again after essentially sending your daughter to rape (though I can't imagine distrusting my brother that badly; might say something about her childhood and their relationship)? 

    But for myself? I've suffered too much to put myself through more. Yes, you might hurt yourself - you can hurt yourself in many ways. But to live a life of isolation such as hers? You never hurt but you can see what the results are - a marriage which is empty and soulless. I've only loved once but (all relationships included) I could tell you exactly what caught my eye about the girls worth remembering. And I'll admit, while not every person I've dated was exactly "utterly rapturing and fascinating" (or exactly worth remembering...), those of real worth not only are remembered but make a "physical" mark in my own development. As I've said somewhere on here before, a relationship should ideally (particularly if it doesn't succeed) create a far more strong bond between the two people and a deeper appreciation for each other (which I'm not properly describing right now, nor seem to be able to). And, no, that's not love. If my actual assumptions of love are correct, they're a shadow of what it is. But it is and should be related to it. You don't get even the slivers of love if you don't open yourself to it. And, yes, that means many possibilities of things which you probably don't want. But that's life. To be honest, I think there's only two people in this world I trust wholly and fully without a doubt (at this point in my life). But to shut the door with a, "Well, that's all that's probably possible in this lifetime," may be one of the biggest mistakes I could make.

    Ay, what point was I making.... I guess I was just waxing over the idea of Love in general (though particularly in relation to my parents). Thinking about it now, there's probably too much (or a good deal I've said before) which I wouldn't even know how to get into from this frame point. Yeah, I think I've said my thoughts on love before rather well in the past, right?

  • I just saw "How to Combat Spiritual Dryness" on Revelife and immediately took it as a sexual innuendo. Wow. I thank God people actually know me well, because there'd be the worse opinions of me otherwise.

    Well, let's see. Hw to do. No surprise there. Good break. Saw family, good friends, and got a haircut (despite the extended family and father's protests).

    Ever had someone you respect totally lose that respect in your eyes? And I don't mean, they were just your better-than-average-people person. I mean, this is someone who literally affected who you've become, someone you were incredibly close to. Okay, so maybe not all respect. But it's like you suddenly look at them and don't even know who they are anymore. They seem far less intelligent than they were and all those qualities gone. Ay.

    Well, plenty on the plate of course. Worrying about the pregnancy included. Seems I will have to consult the mother on that one. Knowing her, she'll think I'm interested in medicine again and become estatic. Never.

    Because it's a hamster and I'm rodent obsessed: watch it - it's cute. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRzTfgds0UI&eurl=http://www.xanga.com/ChrisRusso/683718262/the-evolution-of-the-vampire.html?ref=FPP