Social

  • Trust and sharing were always odd things for me. I trust everyone. Or, at least, I run on a benefit-of-the-doubt system. In other words, you get all my trust up front and first. Once you break that trust, it retracts. Slowly, mind you. I'm big on forgiveness. I know I've made my own share of awful mistakes, so it'd be hypocritical of me to do otherwise, but, more importantly, you can't hope to get better if you aren't given the chance to improve. However, push me far enough and my patience will wear out.

    However, for the most part, this is pointless information (unless you want to get to know me better). The point is the second part of this - sharing. I trust easily. I don't share quite so easily. Well, that's not quite true either. See, I'd describe myself as an open book - you just have to open me. Ask me anything, I'll answer (generally; very rarely will I say no). However, don't expect me to tell you. Perhaps part of my nature which constantly puts the burden of initiation on the other person (rather than myself), I often won't volunteer to receive help. Part of this, admittedly, has to do with my childhood. You grow up with the parents I did, you'd value the sanctity of solitude too. Plus, when you can't even trust those who raised you, you learn the use of being able to take care of things on your own, as often as possible. Not that that's what I'd advice. I still strongly belief we're social creatures, needing others when it boils down to it. But I can get by on my own.

    So I don't go to others, share my feeling, vent, etc. on a typical basis. I'm also partly guarded, out of instinct. Sometimes I'll talk to usual friends if I have a problem, either because I'm particularly fond of them and want to strengthen our own friendship or because I feel they can help with this specific problem. Generally, though, I'll fall back on those I'm closest towards, which is still incredibly rare.

    I'm torn, as I've hinted here before already. And I don't have answers. Rather, I don't like the answers I've come up with. Yet I don't want to talk about it.

    I have to wonder if it's just the lack of focus, system. Or if, even if I received stability, I could be fine knowing it could randomly be removed. I suppose that's not much different than my original viewpoint. It's just knowing that certain virtues, Truths, et cætera, aren't guarenteed (curse me for being a moral person). I suppose things will sift through the filter, eventually. If it doesn't, there isn't a point anyway. So the idea is void.

     

    There's been so much sadness, lately. Xanga, my own head (humans have to be the dumbest creatures - they're given a brain capable of such abstract thought and intelligent awareness and then they make stupid decisions and judgments). I'd like to have the job, for the rest of my life, of just making people happy or righting wrongs, et cætera; it'd be almost mindless, a straightforward chore, which would constantly make me and others happy. I hate seeing pain.

  • I guess I should have an actual entry by now? It's been a bit of a while. Then again, my xanga has been more just my thoughts than an actual journal of my days. On the other hand...I haven't really given you guys much of actual entries as of late (either that or I'm just exercising my excellent inability to estimate time). So, for those who actually read this still, if any, what I've been up to as of late:

     

    It's currently Winter Study, which means three weeks of one class chosen before Winter Break. I decided to take Atheism in part out of interest and in part because I thought a decent amount of the Williams Secular Community would sign up as well. Well...not exactly. A Freshman who attended some meetings at the beginning of the year and someone who had been abroad the past semester, so - at first - I thought that I knew no one in the class.

    It's interesting. The class is basically entirely discussion based. We do some assigned reading the night before and then discuss the points made in them, which often unravels into many other related topics.

    As for class makeup, there's 8 atheists, a Christian who's in Williams Christian Fellowship, and myself (Roman Catholic, born and raised (the raised part is a joke)). Andy is, I think, Evangelical, but he's ever so slightly more liberal in his theology (believes in evolution without discrediting the notion of a relative creation story). It adds an interesting element to the discussions.

    I haven't revealed my own religious convictions to the group yet but that's largely because I don't want to commit myself to anything when I'm wrestling and weighing different types of arguments as much as because I like to play with expectations and it's easier to play the Devil's advocate when your identity is ambiguous (and, I suppose, passing has just become second nature to me by now).

    However, Andy (the Christian of the group) did happen to catch me outside of class when my crucifix was outside my shirt, so he was happy to find a fellow Christian in the class. In a situation that seemed so ironic it just has to be beautiful, it soon became clear that not all our same tenets aligned as I disagreed with him on what tends to be, regardless of sect, something most Christians believe in - whether belief in God is necessary for entry into Heaven. Neither of us left the conversation persuaded by the other, but I absolutely loved the conversation regardless.

    It's an interesting class and I'm really enjoying it, though disliking the 10 page paper due at the end. Plus only 2 weeks left of Winter Study....

    As most of my friends know by now, I sprained my wrist playing broomball with the Marching Band. We won the game (quite beautifully with 3 or 2 to 0), though. It seems to be on the mend, which shocks me because it's only been 48 hours and I've been expecting at least a week for recovery. This, of course, doesn't discourage my general motto towards my body that if I let it take care of itself, it'll mend any sort of pain, disease, or cut on its own without any assistance.

    Speaking of which, staying over Chelsea's dorm for the night to watch Tinman (sci. fi. version of The Wizard of Oz (she knows me too well...). Apparently the same person's also made a sci. fi. version of Alice In Wonderland) while Chels was sick turned into me catching whatever she had. I woke up this morning with the worst throat ache I've ever had. Taking my temperature confirmed also that I had a slight fever. It being 7:48 in the morning, I didn't want to deal with it and went back to sleep. By 2 today, the throat pain was barely noticeable anymore and (I assume) my temperature has returned to normal.

     

    The less pleasant portion of this story started at lunch (though flared up partially yesterday). I was just sitting there and, well, I just wanted to curl up right there. It's odd to explain. It's like you want to be alone yet hate it, wanting to do something but all that ends up being is just rocking back and forth. It often happens when I just leave the presence of other people. The thing is, you can't really tell when it's gonna come. I'm pretty sure it's a result of depression - I mean, what else am I going to blame random, out-of-the-blue, tormenting, unsettling feelings on? While I can generally expect a downer after having a great time, it also seems to go in cycles. Combined, this can throw off expectation. The other possibility is that I'm just losing control more as time goes on. The depression (as it goes untreated) could be getting worse. I have a distinct feeling I'm going to suffer a panic attack someday soon, which will be a clear sign things have gone very, very differently. Then again, I've been talking about me losing control on things I once had since Sophomore year of high school, so who knows. I have to admit, there'd be a bit of comedy (that I couldn't well enough just ignore) if I avoided suicide those many times just to lose control of myself by wearing out depression.

    But now I'm just being a downer. They say that there's two parts to therapy - changing the way you think, see things, et cætera, and the chemicals. Well, I know my shit is chemically based by now. Again, such mood swings that are so disturbingly strong are not normal. It's the changing the way I think part that bothers me. For one, I'm pretty sure my thought process and certain ideas and opinions (in relation to depression) are formed by the mental disorder itself. If I can be happy, the depressing is generally miles from my brain (though that might be a polarized effect - when I'm happy, I'm just happy and I'm over the top with it, a result of the fact that when I'm neutral I'm slightly depressed and "tainted" and then everything else from there is just worse; but I may be generalizing so don't take this as necessarily fact).

    However - as I've said many, many times - there's a great beauty to the sad, the depressing. I still stand by my belief that pain makes the most beautiful people. To me, we can be breathtaking in anguish. And we cannot forget the amazing delicacy and beauty in recovery. To be allowed past those walls others construct is humbling when we remember just what it means to be allowed to enter those places of another person.

    In many other innumerable ways, I find the depressing to be intensely amazing. Sure, too much of such a thing hurts (I've gone over this perilous system a million times in the past, no need for repetition). So, I'll pass on the therapy. Just give me something to fix this imbalance. I suppose it's void, however, since I'm likely never to seek treatment. Once you get past that hump around Sophomore to Junior year (those with this know what I'm talking about), it's easy to deal with for the most part there on out.

     

    Gah, I'd really like to be in bed now...it's 4:43. So, while I was running to grab food as quick as I could for dinner, I stopped by the grill for pizza (bad choice, but oh well). As I was sitting, eating, this guy (I think) was looking at me. I just remember I made eye contact, it seemed I might know him, so I nodded as acknowledgement just in case. He nodded back and said, "They're not that bad." He was regarding my Black Sabbath t-shirt. "I've been getting into them lately, listening off of YouTube, you know; they're pretty good. I like Paranoid, and Sabbath Bloody Sabbath." Admittedly, it sounded so damn weird the way he said it, like they were a new band or something. But perhaps I'm biased, since I happen to think that Black Sabbath happens to sound downright Godly.

    Now, I'm absolutely awkward socially and this is the most apparent in people I don't know extremely well. So, I nod, say that's cool, keep nodding, not sure what else to say. He nods, then kinda turns away and waves his hand in a dismissive fashion while saying, "Yeah." It basically looked like he wasn't sure what to say as well and then decided that that's all he could say and was confirming that this was, indeed, a good moment to just stop talking. Totally fair enough.

    Then, for a split second, I think, "Wait, was he trying to hit on me?" Now, such random questions tend to pop into my head regularly, largely because I question everything (regardless if it deserves such skepticism or not) anyway. I generally dismiss such thoughts, as I did. But then I saw the guy talking to another guy I recognized who I know is gay but not really involved in the gay/Trans community on campus and not really with much of a gay identity.

    So...maybe I wasn't so off after all. Which then makes his shyness just plain cute (but I'm a romantic, so I find any sort of stuff such as this by anyone as cute). He should've just gone for it; you might get a no, but you never know unless you try (alright, I realize I'm a downright hypocrite for saying this, but I'm trying to do better).

    I got up to leave shortly afterwards but then The River by Springsteen came on, and I just froze where I was. I have to wonder if it's just nostalgia that makes me so affected by his songs. I literally just stopped. Then again, I was also still tripping off of these odd depression emotions (and drinking soda, laced with sugar, probably helped nothing). In any case, I ended up staying until the song finished.

     

    Now I sleep!

  • Though we hardly talk as often as you'd expect for close friends, there's a deep feeling of comfort to hearing jess's voice once again.

  • And, to be certain, I'm no angel in this whole thing.

    I had meant to write something in regard to what happened with Allison for half a year now, but I've always had this habit of taking forever to get to things.

    As I said once before, all too often, I find myself talking in terms of my ex-girlfriends because I think I've learned so much of them. Sometimes it's from my own fucking up.

    I'm mostly doing this because, once again, there's not really ever been a full explanation of it. I remember shortly after we had broken up she happened to run into me when I was hanging with Vikki (and I want to say someone else, but I cannot remember) - which isn't surprising, considering me and Allison often spent a lot of time after school before.

    Vikki and I were being our usual selves and oddly wrapped around each other or lying over the other one. So, naturally, when Vikki was off doing something else, Allison asked if Vikki and I were a couple. To which I, accordingly, felt ashamed because the poor girl was probably thinking I had left her to go to Vikki. This was not the case; Vikki and I have always just had no sense of private space. After telling Allison no, she (of course) asks why we had broken up. If I remember, she brought up some possible cause that, to me, should have never mattered in the grand scheme of things. More than anything, though, I remember how utterly vulnerable she looked.

    For a girl with so much unfair crap to work through and who could put on a façade when she wanted to (or perhaps it was just instinctual at times), it always surprises me how easily she'll let people in or just throw down her defenses at you - almost to say, "Go ahead, do as you will. I'm in your hands now."

    I remember standing there, uncomfortable, and just responding, "I don't know." Bullshit excuse, no? Hah, it always is, when you don't mean it.

    And yet, roughly a year and a half later, that's still the only answer I have. I have no clue why something which, by any reasonable measuring, should have been markedly longer (for one) and more meaningful than it ended up having to settle for should have just burnt out so brutally and suddenly.

    Maybe I should start a little bit more towards the beginning?

    I can't remember how I met Allison exactly. Okay, let me take that back. I distinctly remember my first memory of Allison. She was a Freshman and standing next to a friend of hers in the hallway that many of the bandies swarmed after they were kicked out of in front of the band room, trying to shake her ass, and going, "____, look. Look." I can't remember the exact point she was trying to make (I think a reference to something; it was just a random dance of some sort). I just remember shaking my head and thinking, "Good God, Freshmen…."

    At that time, I doubt I knew her name. I later ran into her and she said she thought we knew each other when she was trying to tell me why someone else I just barely had seen around and talked to 3 times at most was not at school that day. This actually makes more sense than it would seem. I'm the type to consider someone I just met a friend and, back in the day, would be certain to get their attention every time I saw them and say hello to them. It was a social mechanism I had picked up from Middle School, when I was a wall flower and getting acquaintances was good enough as far as I was concerned for human interaction.

    The reason I'm "uncertain as to how I met Allison" is because after those moments, I don't know when barely seeing her and saying no more than 2 words to her turned into spending a ton of time with her. I just remember she was one of those who unexplainably just got a crush on me and then pursued me like all Hell.

    She usually had to spend time after school for some type of job. I was usually after school because I could then use the computers there for hours on end with no interruption and seeing friends over my parents at home was always more worthwhile. My next memories of her are staying after school. Its this time I remember her interested in trying to date me. I don't exactly remember how she made this known, however. I do remember it wasn't direct, like a blunt statement of it.

    However, Laura and I had just broken up for the first time. And there was no way in Hell anyone was getting to me after that one, no matter how hard they tried. And tried Allison did. While only one person possibly came upon my radar during those 4 months of being single (*cough*Kari*cough*), Allison did make it clear she was interested in me. And I, of course, was hesitant. It finally came to a head after school one night when I was heading out to get picked up by my dad.

    Allison is standing there with me (as I remember it) with herself wrapped around me. I'm kinda not really reacting in hopes that she'll get the idea. She says something which I can't seem to remember anymore. I ask, "So, where do we go from here?" She pauses, then looks at me and kinda pats my shoulder, responding, "I'm gonna think about it." Then adds as a side thought, "Yes, I do think about things, Jon," as if I've bought into the rumors about her and assume this.

    So, now I must actually give hard thought to this. So I mull it around for a good day…and finally decide that, no, I'm not really over Laura, so forget it, I'm just going to have to tell Allison I'm not interested.

    Well, next time I see her, she's dating Steve Chevalia. Well, admittedly, I found her needing to think about something she had been pursuing quite intently for a while now uncharacteristic of her and something she made up to have an excuse to drop the previous. Steve seems to confirm this. "Great, another Lilly," I think to myself. Well, fine, I'm not really bothered, considering I didn't want it to go anywhere and I was kinda being obnoxious beforehand by not really giving a response and so I find it to basically be fair. Whatever was actually going on during those odd times then (because it paints us both in a semi-poor light and I hardly consider my memory to be able to accurately portray her), I chalk it up to being young on both our sides.

    Anyway, fast forward, Laura and I date for 2 months and break up. I can't remember during the spans of when Allison and I first started kinda getting involved to when we finally went out what the order or things we did together were. So just assume that the following events happened at some point during this entire time. I hate that I can't remember, because it deprives us of the perspective of time and my own opinions and thoughts during the moments. But oh well. During this time spans, we had a habit of going to the practice rooms. Despite the reputation these had gotten by now, all we did was talk. I'd often play some variation of a minor cord for her, since she enjoyed that. She was always emotionally upset during these times. It was mostly melancholy. And she just shed so much for me during these times, letting me in and know things that, with anyone else, I would expect a much longer time to get there. Naturally, for the sake of her own privacy, none of what happened there gets repeated. But we did get closer during that time. At some point a little later, we started talking over FB messages. She was often grounded, though her iPhone wasn't taken away, so we were able to talk through that. I'm going to have to assume that this was after Laura and I broke up.

    So. Now we finally get to about the time when the two of us go out. I (think I) am over Laura and Allison is a multilayered and interesting person. Sure, she'd require work, as far as a relationship works, because she's not simplistic but shouldn't I do something because it's worth it, not because it's easy? And it shouldn't be thought I just jumped into this. I talked to one of her exes about it and really started thinking critically about the idea.

    Finally, I decide, yeah, let's do it.

    And, again, by any reasonable measuring, this should have been a fine relationship. Allison is right down my alley as far as people I'd be interested in. She's smart, thinks outside of the box, quirky in her own ways, deceptively average, kinda clingy and definitely passionate, willing to question things, etc. etc. Oh, and she had a love for music. Um, yes please.

    And, more than anything, she was in certain ways still developing. Which makes sense, considering she was a Sophomore in high school at the time. But it's significant because I always seem drawn to those who are independent enough to stand on their own and can actually teach me (I always need people who are willing enough to push me or make the first move - but, still need me in some way and end up not being overbearing). But they're still learning, they're still figuring shit out. They still need me. It's a difficult balance to find, let me assure you.

    So, the first three days? Downright fantastic. The first day alone was perfect. I'm happier than I've been in a while.

    It all was actually kinda weird. I remember the first day of us going out, everyone I saw was all, "You're going out with Allison!!!1!1!ONEONE". The second half of the day I saw all the friends who where, "You're going out with Allison…? Ew…" Admittedly, she had a reputation, though I didn't care. Some of the things said was that she was stupid (which is the dumbest thing you could possibly ever say about her), that she was a slut, or just some really stupid shit (she's obnoxious, whine whine whine). Part of what just made her astounding was what was said about her, how much of that was in any sense true, and then how she responded to it all. I'm partially saying empty phrases, for you had to have known her to understand what I'm getting at, but the way that she handled herself, and when taken in consideration with what was said about her, was just powerful. Now, I'm talking from a somewhat keyhole view. While I did get to know her in a quicker amount of time than would have happened with most other people, it certainly wasn't everything and my view may be skewed. But she had one Hell of a personality and personage.

    And then…something happened. And I italicize happened because that's just it. The emphasis isn't on some outside thing - because I don't know what changed. It's the fact that it occurred, not what caused it. Because, as I said at the start of this – I don't know.

    And it irritates me to this day. Let's go over it.

    Well, maybe it would have been wise not to start dating Allison 2 weeks after breaking up with Laura for the second time?
         True, however, I didn't even realize that until Laura mentioned it. In fact, I hadn't paid any attention to the amount of time that passed at all (which is why I take special care to check how much time passes after a break up these days; it still surprises me how quickly I think time has passed after those, though it actually hasn't). And, going off of that still, you could argue I rushed it without thinking about it but I didn't. I talked to one of her exes, I thought about it. It wasn't a rash decision. I rarely make those, I'm so damn hesitant all the time.

    Okay then, maybe instead of making out all the time with her, you should have spent more time focusing on her.
         Once again, a good point - but I didn't think of that then. It's true, I'm far more turned on by personality than anything else. But I didn't realize that most of our time spent together didn't really focus on who we were and more on the usual mores of dating (holding hands, cuddling, making out - lots of making out). It's something to learn and something I should have done, but not something I intentionally avoided.

    And, of course, why did I choose to not break it off as soon as I realized something was wrong but chose not to drag it out even longer then? Two weeks is a pretty short amount of time to date anyone, in any circumstance. Not to mention that most of Allison's previous relationships were only 2 weeks as well.
         To be honest, I didn't break it off after 3 days because that felt absolutely insulting. And like I was just giving up. I thought it was bad enough I wanted to break up with her, why would I add the insult of only 3 days of time? Okay, then, since I seemed so dearly concerned with not insulting her by a short break up, why 2 weeks? That's still short. Well, my own experience with break up, really. I've been in the situation where you're in a relationship that you actually care about. You want it to work, damn it. But the other person doesn't quite feel the same way. And either they just don't care about putting effort into the relationship or they don't want it to continue but don't want to break up with you because they're afraid of the consequences. But of course, you don't know this when you're going out with them. You usually have a hunch, but you know everything for certain after the break up. So you get dragged along with all the emotions and feelings that go along with that experience until the break up finally happens. Now, if you're in the position of wanting to break up, you usually realize this about a month in at the shortest. Alright, now you know - break up with them and don't drag them along. It becomes a bit more complicated when you've only dated them for 3 days. Maybe I should have done something else. Maybe I shouldn't've waited. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have just let her know what was going on. But, while I was already completely confused by a situation that I didn't understand and simultaneously worried about how it would effect her, I made the choice I did with the best judgement I could muster.

    And I'll never forget the look on her face when I finally did it. I was uncomfortable all over, of course. And so, as I saw her that morning, I pulled her to the side and said, "I have to talk with you." In this almost comic fashion, she responds in an overly played up, "Oh? Are you going to break my heart?" And this should sound almost childish, right? But no. The sugarcoated cheerfulness of it, the sound of it almost ringing of that "innocent" femininity that's been fetishized to such an extreme makes it all the more mocking, in its own way. Like, "Really? You're going to do this to me?" Of course, I respond yes. I don't remember if we said anything after that. All I remember is after she says she'll see me later, she turns - and at that moment slips up. After acting happy this entire time, her facial expression is bitter, it's angry; it's restrained. It was just a second. Just a glance as she was turning away and her face said everything. And all I could think to myself was, "Scumbag…"

    So I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't know why it didn't work. Fittingly, I kinda got it all kicked into my face afterwards. During the summer, me and her kept up communication. I can't remember if we did during the time between break up and the summer, but I know we definitely conversed during the summer. And like Hell we did.

    I was just discovering the amazing-ness of sleeping in, which resulted in me not being capable of falling asleep until 5 in the morning. Allison did not aid this by talking to me. So we just talked, for hours on end, for a full month (like, everyday). About everything. And I will probably never have anything like this again. It was normal conversations to questioning why we do things and why people think what they do. From the concrete to the abstract. Absolutely fantastic.

    Heh, and, basically, it was like, "Oh, this is what I gave up…?" Again, fitting, appropriate, and just. Sometimes life actually fits those descriptions.

    I suppose what irritates me more than anything is - she trusted me. She let me in, she put trust in me. You know, I wasn't just some new boyfriend or something, I was one in a long line of boyfriends. I should have been different. Instead, I ended up just being like some of the others. Which is pathetic and so much less than what she deserved.

    Despite only dating her for 2 weeks, I rank Allison easily among those exes of mine which have actually left some discernible mark of change on me. Fact is, I'm learning that I easily get bored with people (I mean in general, not in terms of dating). It's not that typically they're stunted (at least, not those I know; the main populace, that's debatable). It's just that so often they're willing to settle, to just be like everything else or just accept what they're told. They're interesting enough people, capable of commanding logic and reason in an acceptable enough fashion. But they don't bother to go beyond. They're content to just settle.

    I can't say Allison is one of the few people I respect. Because there's a lot of people I respect, for various reasons. But with Allison (with the girl I knew then, at minimum, if this is not true now, though I'd be surprised if it wasn't), I continue to be amazed by just, fundamentally, who she is. I don't know if I could properly communicate this concept to you.

    But again, I repeat, she deserved far more than she received from me. Any person has a right to better treatment than that, I think.

  • I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing about this now, about 4 years after the fact. But I suppose it's because there actually isn't anywhere I've really made any note of it, other than in passing to other people. Plus, it seems out of place for me never to mention it. And I don't talk things out enough and tend to keep them inside all the time.

    In any case, back during the beginning of Sophomore year of high school, I dated a certain Lilly (as some will remember). That was...an interesting experience, in a multitude of ways.

    It was one of those moments (that continue to just confuse me) where I meet a girl, and she immediately pursues me after the first few seconds with absolute abandon. Actually, up until Allison, these instances had the accurate and logical result of the girl realizing she made a big mistake and getting the Hell out thereafter.

    In any case, for a short background update, I can tell Lilly is hitting on me. But I'm still trying to end getting into a relationship again with girlfriend number 3 (Rachel Bird) before getting into any other relationship. That and I was probably shy explains my non-reactions. However, eventually Lilly gets fed up and exclaims, "You realize I've been flirting with you, right?!" I tell her yes, and roughly try to explain my non-reaction. She, I think, misunderstands. Some kind of really amusing (in retrospect) petty fight results due to this. Eventually we both get back on the same page and decide to go out.

    Of course, the only warning I really get about this adventure I'm about to embark on is from a just budding friendship with Victoria Mendez in the form of a cryptic remark of, "I love Lilly, but that girl just doesn't think sometimes." (at least, to the best of my memory, I think that's she said).

    Well, Lilly's means of getting my attention to begin with may be telling of her means of communication back then - in other words, she'll have a distinct idea of what she wanted you to do and she'll hint at it plenty but she expects you to get it and just act on it. Of course, if you do the wrong thing, she wasn't entirely too pleased anyway.

    Those who know me can see the problem already. While I probably wasn't nearly as shy and hesitant then as I became, for a girl who seemed to want to move quickly and would have loved plenty just spending hours necking, I was not the right type by any sense.

    Granted, I'll be the first to admit, I was a rather awful boyfriend, as far as things go. Consistently hesitant and utterly new to this, it...was painfully awkward.

    The only good moment I can think of was a moment when (I believe) Val noticed her and realized that she had thrown a pencil down from the second floor near the band room and it had hit him on the first floor. After she apologized, he said, "Hug?" to which I responded, "Uh, no..." and pulled her in towards me. Otherwise, just painfully awkward moments of expectations and failure of those expectations.

    Alright, so I wasn't the most socially competent boyfriend ever. Just break up with me and it's over, right? No, not quite. First Lilly decides to make out with Max Vistitsky while dating me (something he still continues to apologize for, though I hardly hold any form of grudge towards him over it). Then, because this is the mindset Lilly thought in back then, she decides she wants to break up with me. But, of course, because Lilly has these expectations and is unwilling to simply state them, she opts for making the relationship as awful as possible in order to get me to break up with her. So, she ignores me when I'm there. Avoids me a few times. Spends a time going on about how hot some guys in a Manga are with Miriam while I'm sitting there. Maybe other stuff, but I can't remember.

    Well, because I can be stubborn at times, I decide I'm not going to break up with her because, if she wants wants it so badly, she ought to be the one to do it. After about a week, she finally does it (the cliché trappings of "You're a really great guy, but" and all).

    The amusing aspect was the Duxlers coming up to me before it actually happened (though at this point I knew it was coming) and going, "We're really sorry Jon" only to realize afterwards they're a little early (this is why I love those two; heh, no, that wasn't even a bit of sarcasm). And then finding out that a week before this she had started dating some 19-year-old online who's in Australia.

    Significance of it all? Well, it pretty much laid the path of my "dating abilities" for the future. Basically, it set in place my complete hesitation when it would come to dating in the future, the worrying that would essentially make something as simple as taking a person's hand pretty much legitimately impossible, etc.

    Now, I do want to be clear, I'm not in any way saying that this is the Lilly now. The two of us don't exactly hold long-drawn conversations, etc. these days and it's obviously been a while since 4 years ago. However, I am stating things as they were then.

    In the grand scheme of things, it does have a relevance.

  • What is it with outwardly confident and domineering girls being interested in me? I'm overly passive, you probably won't agree with more than half of what I believe, I hate being told and pressured into things more than once, I'm the farthest thing from impulsive and I'm slow as fuck, and I very much value my eccentricities. The more you get to know me, the more you will not like me; I can assure you of this.

  • Well, if I haven't said so already, my fantastic cousin is attending college with me this year. An incoming Freshman, this will be the most I've ever seen her in a year since the day she was born.

    Of course, the past few days, I've had her come help me with a couple of things. She's great to talk to. The family tends to think we're twins; while we do have a good deal in common (both open-minded thinkers, very similar opinions on religion, both have a fantastic guilt complex, both compationate, both have very gothic interests (though she refuses to consider herself a goth)), there are distinct differences between us. She's far more upbeat than I am, though she has her moments (of course, I don't think that she has depression, and that can make a sizable difference). She seems to like Gossip Girl; excuse me while I gag in the back of my thro- I mean, to each their own. :| D} The one thing I had noticed yesterday, though, was that she seems far more fluent socially than I am.

    Me, when in a situation I'm not familiar with, tend to widthdraw into myself. Already with a soft voice, I don't say much during large conversations with people I'm not very, very familiar with. When someone I know is having a conversation with someone else I don't know, I wait until addressed at all before talking.

    She, it seems, has none of these issues. She simply started talking to other friends I have. And it seems most of her Entry already knows her and is friendly with her.

    Now, mental fear is far more difficult to break than it would seem (it literally can utterly paralyze you at times) so these social difficulties are not as seemingly easy as you might assume. But they explain why I was quite distant from my Entry all of my Freshman year, awkward with my roommate, and left with a feeling of not many friends by the end of Freshman year.

    Which I don't mind, I should note. It actually means I'm probably right on schedule. I made very little friends other than a few upperclassmen my Freshman year of high school (the same happened for college, but with more friends from my year, which is surprising). Sophomore year, I swear half of the Freshman class accepted me in and enthusiastically became friends with me (I'll never understand why it happened, but I thank you utterly, class of '09). Something similar is likely to happen this year. Probably not to the same extent but I've been handed similar luck - my cousin is likely to allow me to get to know a lot more people, most being (surprise, surprise) a year younger than me.

    It's interesting, I think. We'll see where life goes.

    I'm kinda listless about it, to be brutally honest. Ah, but what else is new, right?

  • Kinda weird thinking I'm going back in a matter of 5 or so days. It'll be an interesting year, I'm sure (largely due to the five classes I'll have). In theory, I'll have gotten a better placing this year (socially and otherwise). Of course, it wasn't really until Junior year of high school that I got myself pretty settled. Some things just take time, with which I'm fine with. There's a slew of things on campus I'm involved with that I can't wait to dive into again.

    I've got a single room this year, so no roommate to have to manage. Plus, my previous no-window, small room got switched for a senior single. Which is nice.

    We'll see how it goes.

    Tomorrow I'm going to stop by the old high school GSA for the last time. It's somewhat astounding how far it's come. Yeah, yeah, I know, I've talked about this a million times. Suppose it's a final goodbye to everyone, as well. I need to do a bit of packing next week - joys....

    It's really been an uneventful day. I stayed up far too late wanting to watch A.I.: Artificial Intelligence but YouTube were taking far too long to load. Maybe tomorrow.

    After waking up, me and my brother watched Mary Poppins and The Great Mouse Detective (fantastic movie). I love doing things with just my brother, because often enough what we enjoy we agree on. Mary Poppins has never been more amusing. Too many moments where we just looked toward each other and burst out laughing.

  • The sea is calm to-night.
    The tide is full, the moon lies fair
    Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
    Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
    Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
    Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
    Only, from the long line of spray
    Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
    Listen! you hear the grating roar
    Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
    At their return, up the high strand,
    Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
    With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
    The eternal note of sadness in.

    Sophocles long ago
    Heard it on the Ægæan, and it brought
    Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
    Of human misery; we
    Find also in the sound a thought,
    Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

    The Sea of Faith
    Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
    Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
    But now I only hear
    Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
    Retreating, to the breath
    Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
    And naked shingles of the world.

    Ah, love, let us be true
    To one another! for the world, which seems
    To lie before us like a land of dreams,
    So various, so beautiful, so new,
    Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
    Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
    And we are here as on a darkling plain
    Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
    Where ignorant armies clash by night.

     

     

    Life is complicated in so many ways. We try to make slogans and answers for life's problems and think up black and white ways to play it out but experience seems to be the only thing which makes thinks appear black and white - and, of course, you couldn't possibly know that beforehand (bit of a sadistic set up, really).

    In all honesty (I don't remember when it started), life doesn't make much sense to me. And, of course, there isn't an entirely clear way to describe that. We might say we live life for purpose - doing things. Yet everything I do seems to give me a high before dropping me. Is that what life was meant to be? Heh, why wouldn't I be surprised? I enjoy and love helping people - but I stop and I don't know what to do with myself. Having depression, of course, never helps anything. I stay up 'til 4 because it's only then I feel normal and like I have purpose and reason and am actually doing something. Is that normal? I feel like when you have something joyfully screwing around with the chemicals which govern your emotions, you can't look at life with a clear eye.

    If you can't tell by now, I love literature. I think we can learn so much from it. Understand - when I create a layout utilizing the imagry and telling ability of a photo, music, and (most importantly) quotes, it's because I honest to God feel by taking all this in and reading into and out of it and processing it and wringing it dry of all the secrets it may hold will give you Truth.

    But there it is again - I'm observing. I like going to parks, busy or empty, and enjoying the weather, listening to music. I'm observing. When I'm writing, I'm philosophizing (the art itself is breath-taking) - but I'm once again observing.

    I don't know what I feel I'm missing but I feel like all of this has something sickingly lacking from it all. One might sum up my entire life that way.

    Life shouldn't just be the gribbing and gleaning parts of a story - life is brushing our teeth, eating, farting, sleeping, and every other thing we choose to think too unimportant to include when we think of it. So then what? Am I to revel in every one of those moments? At least acknowledge them? I doubt that'll remove this persistant feeling.

    There's a lot people won't tell you. They won't tell you how big of a difference 18 years will make on your life. They don't tell you that life is meant to be learned - don't think of it as some damn goal. Embrace it and consider every waking present moment as the time you're in - ignore the future and remember the past (but don't live in it).

    The future? It'll come. And it'll come as you want because, 5 years from now, it's not going to matter you humiliated yourself - during that day, you'll know how not to humiliate yourself. Better yet, you'll probably have a steady and stable social network and life'll  be better.

    Live life to LEARN.

    We're all learning, taking in. Our experiences are what make us. And, as hard and difficult it is to wrap our heads around with the way we've been taught, life is a journey. And not all of us are at the same place in ours. What someone is now may not be who they are later in life. And that future person is no less important (though that doesn't mean we should slack expectations of the present person).

    What am I doing with my life?

    I - don't - know.

    I'm pursuing a profession that banks entirely on my success for my survival (considering my lack of confidence in myself and my own admitted laziness, this should be interesting).

    I'm a person who needs continual re-affirmation for me to believe in and not doubt something in a world that hates repeating itself.

    I'm an individual who is satisfied if able only to make a difference in one small way in one person's life - and while that belief in the importance of every little actions is great and needed, it draws the eyes away from the bigger plots and ideas. Oh, they didn't tell you? Being counter-revolutionary in the world often runs the possible consequence of getting crushed by everyone going the opposite direction.

    And, as a final thought and wonder, is there anyone who utterly (or, I guess, adequately) knows me?

    Once again, I find myself drifting. And, while I dislike this idea of just going along and enjoying the things you pass by, I have no other answers.

    It's odd how life can down you and interest and excite you so much at the same time.

     

    I occassionally wonder what people will think of me when I go (you know, to wherever we go when we die). Will they be inspired by my ideas? I'd find it ironic, considering my own belief in a lack of answers. Will they hate me? I'm sure there must be at least one. Will they think me misguided, a zealous believer in things which made no sense and, thus, acted childishly about them? Will they find me no more special than the next? Will I stand out in their mind when they remember me? Will they mourn me? How much and for how long? Will they think of me as always trying to do best? Did I? I hate when I have more questions than answers.

     

     

    And, on a completely off, random, and unrelated note (well, mostly), anyone know how I might better advertise http://www.accept.co.nr/? I'm out of ideas (leastwise, none that don't end up costing more than I'm willing to spend) and I think the issue still is just not enough traffic. Then again, maybe people just don't care about the idea. I dunno.

     

    Senc' kjût c'ievb'asy - ævû i xnâ åkâ ut j lèy.

  • I hate how fucking unstable emotions are. There's a reason I prefer logic. Suddenly I'm back to instability and not knowing what the Hell I seem to vaguely feel I'm missing.

    It's 4 in the morning. Would someone tell me to go to sleep (though, I swear, I tried at first)? Thanks. I don't think I will.

    It always struck me as odd that for someone who can be bothered by hardly anything, has no real issue with stripping himself open (granted, for certain people, though not that specific a group, for the most part), and gives barely a damn (at least outwardly) what others think can suddenly just shut down, wants to recoil into his own mind, and wants no human contact (physical or otherwise) for a good portion of time. Suppose it's a healing mechanism, but I've never entirely and wholly been a fan of isolation.

    What it reminds me of is my last depression again when I had more emotional instability than I would like to ever live through again; not only because it's eerily reminiscent of that awkward feeling of wanting human contact and yet being irritated by the effort of managing and dealing with that contact. But, more principally, because I've always hated taking out my own mood on others. No, I'd much rather deal with it myself than risk that. And that, ultimately, is pointless. Because who wants to deal with anything alone? But I'd rather not depress you as well with my own issues; I wouldn't want to put you through that.

    There is something raw and, really, real about a person baring themselves emotionally, their problems. For one, it's not easy; so go bravery. But it's cuts through the usual façade (I don't mean that in the usual derivative manner) that we naturally put on, to some extent, every day, depending on the situation, person we deal with, etc.

    Yesterday, while trying to close the door to my room so we could go to sleep (it was basically pitch black), my mom scared my sister. Shaken, she runs back and curls up in a ball on the floor, crying. She covers herself entirely.

    Now, I'll admit, why she started crying I don't entirely get. Being 12 years old and being perfectly happy just seconds before, it doesn't make entire sense to me. But we often get triggered in very random and pointless ways.

    While the logical step is to apologize and check if the person is alright, my mother (being my mother) decides to just ignore her. The rest of us don't really do anything (since, granted, at 12 there's no logical reason to start crying over being scared. And, while it's rude of my mom not to check why her daughter is randomly bawling her eyes out, it was not rude, really, to have scared her). But, really, you can't just let her lay there, entirely covered, crying. There's just something inhumane about that. Too much comfort sends the wrong message; she is slightly over-reacting. But pain is still pain. And it needs to be fixed, always.

    So I lay on top of her, hugging her as lays there. Now, there's a blanket between us. This physical barrier ought to be evidence enough there isn't this profound connection being made or that, at least, a direct connection is being made. But this physical touch, which allows me to feel every gasped breath she takes and every sob and the heat radiate from her and the crying slowly stop, is very profound. Just remembering the feeling it evoked is incredible; one of the many moments in life I wish I could better share with you. It's very important; and gives so much to another person.