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MerryQuill: A Poem
So, last night I got inspired to write some more poetry after watching a documentary about Charles Bukowski. I’ve always enjoyed poetry, and I think I’ll keep writing it, even if some of it is shitty, and it’s not really my main focus. I just like the feeling of being able to express myself in words rather than having to say things out loud. That’s probably why I like writing in the first place.
Anyway, here’s the poem:
The night is old, but I am young
Some half-wandered dream fills my head
Broken memories of the past
Rejection and Impurity
For are we not all fools?
We make our lives, but we share our experience
We see the beginning and the end
No matter how long
It takes us
Hope is a dirty word
Hope keeps us in line when we should only
Be thinking of ourselves
But we don’t give enough of ourselves to start
We don’t even give enough to fail
The falseness of this rotten shit
Is getting to be bullish
A fair assessment
A wish to spread the wings
Of glory, and fly
See the world anew
With open arms, and open eyes
Instead of this half smoked joint
This pain in my back
And the half-dead plant near the window
Breakout from the age of oppression!
But we’re only oppressing ourselves
There aren’t enough minds to feed all the brains
There aren’t enough stones to throw at the whore
Let he who is without sin stop lying to himself and everyone else
Let the virgin king have his reign
Lest he end up broken and forgotten
So instead of this crap
Our minds ingest
Why doesn’t someone think of something
Intelligent?
The dog can’t have his day
Without learning a few new tricks
The need to be unburdened
By debt
By feeling
By life
By love
Gratification in a bottle
Of substance abuse
Waiting to happen
The bastard’s dead
And so am I
Anyway, I hope you liked that shit. I might write some more sooner than later. I dunno. Whatever.- H
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Koo-Koo for Cocoa Puffs aka Dig ‘Em the Frog is my best friend
Been a long time.
Let’s get down to business, shall we?I have been at my school almost 2 years now, not stopping. It’s amazing how quickly time passes. Sometimes, I forget I’m alive, other days, I can’t feel more alive. It really depends on the mood, and some of the lighting.
I’ll be honest though, I’ve been tired for a while now. I haven’t stopped going to school, and have had almost no real breaks from any of my work. I love it here, and I’m happy, but the problem is that I have a crap ton of major work I have to do before I proceed to the next step. After finishing this quarter, I will have 3 quarters of classes I will have to take, on top of having to prepare my first real major endeavor; my Thesis project. I also have no idea what I want to write/direct for my Directing 2 class, AND I have to start writing my feature. I have a plan, you see, a plan to try and make myself stand out from the crowd, not that I don’t already. I just have to be keen on what I’m trying to make, because based on it, I could possibly get a REAL JOB directing a film. It has to be good though, REAL GOOD, and I don’t want to rush that.
I’m truly very tired. It’s not easy trying to coupe with all these different things going on in my head. I still don’t have a girlfriend, and I finally came out with that on Facebook. The response was that everyone already knew, which kind of made me feel like shit. I just felt like I was beating around the bush I guess. It’s not easy talking about stuff like that. Everyone asks me about it. Hell, the Gay Hairdresser who cut my hair today said, “We’ll get you a girlfriend.” It’s the last thing I want to think about, but one of the biggest things on my mind.I was driving a friend to Chinatown earlier, talking about this, and he said that myself being in a relationship, or finding validation in others, is not the key to happiness, and I totally agree. But my problem is that I have NO IDEA what being in a relationship is like. None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I don’t think I’m looking for validation as much as I’m looking for confidence. I already follow the beat of my own drum, but in that department, I’m still having a lot of trouble. It’s really the only thing left as far as what I could want in my life right now. Alas, it is not meant to be, as I have tried, but I have failed, at least for the moment. I suppose my day will come sooner than later, but being almost 25 is a bitch. To me, it’s humiliating. I know that a lot of people have died not ever experiencing feelings for another, but I’m not one of those people.
Anyway, back to the main part of this: my break. I’m taking a quarter off this coming spring, a period of roughly 3 months or so, give or take. In this time, I plan on doing 3 separate things:
Get back on a diet, exercise, and lose weight
Write my scripts every day
Move out of my current apartment into new digs
The last one is particularly important because the place I live in now has turned into a real shithole since I moved here. I’m not going to lie, I’ve been more disgusted by its state than usual, and that’s saying something.
But yes, finally, I have accepted that I need to get my shit together, again. I guess everything happens in cycles, and that’s fine by me. I just wish that I could have gotten a kick in the ass sooner. Hopefully, my break will be the respite I need to keep on trekking.
I know y’all like my writing, but I think that I might take a break for a while with these types of posts. I’m probably going to stick more to funny/cool pictures with witty responses like I always do. That being said however, I do like to write, so I’m sure the occasional post will come up here and there.
Well, that’s all for now. I hope the New Year has been treating you well so far.
- H
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Rude Boy
What up yo.
Finals are over. The year is almost over. Everything is almost over (apparently). I’m OVER it.
This year, 2012, was a motherfuckin’ pain in my ass, but probably the best year I’ve had on this planet thus far. Through every turn, I manage to make it just another day, so the fact I’m just blessed to be living is all the sweeter. I find that I tend to take myself for granted a lot. I tend not to stir anyone’s shit up but my own.
My mom thinks I spend too much time alone, but I think she’s wrong. I like being alone. I get really frustrated by other people’s drama and bullshit that’s completely menial. When something major happens, that’s when you have to make a comment, and listen. Sometimes, it’s just swill being shoved into our ears. I’m as guilty of it as anyone else, but when I really mean what I say, I REALLY MEAN IT. I could sit and bullshit with someone for hours on end, but when all the bullshitting is done, is there anything left to say that’s real? That’s what all my friendships, and relationships in general are based on. Can we actually not bullshit with each other? Can we talk about things that mean something to us? What are our real goals, ambitions?
This year, I found out a lot about people I didn’t know, and I didn’t have to bullshit to do it. I’ve legitimately met people that I want to know as long as I live, and it’s made my life worth living. Knowing that people are out there, even in this wild jungle of a city, still care, that they won’t run away… It gives me a sense of hope I haven’t had in a long time.
Things may appear bad for the world right now, but, as a famous attorney once said, “It’s always darkest before the dawn.”
Happy Holidays, and Happy 2013!
- H
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Maverick
People of Earth,
I come bearing gifts!
Actually, it’s more like information based on what’s going on in my life, but you know… Same kind of thing… Maybe… Well, not really.
You’re not getting that cookie basket, I can tell you that.
Currently, I am dealing with a lawsuit that I can’t tell anyone about because it sucks, and I don’t want to but, of course, I can’t HELP but be forced into these stupid situations, so I just have to say “what the fuck” and bite the bullet. So that’s one thing.
The other thing is my classes. Oh boy, my classes. 3 of them are sweet, and 1 of them really sucks. I’m talking like, I have to be up in 7 hours kind of suck. The kind of suck that involves not having done most of the work because it’s not due till the end and I might actually fuck it up kind of suck. The good news is that I passed my last quarter with flying colors, so maybe I’m just being too hard on myself. But when you take a midterm at 9 am, all essay questions, and in cursive, with a teacher who’s a certifiable DICK (and will tell you so himself), it’s hard to laugh at the situation, or wonder if you’re just in the line of a speeding train. You know, that kind of shit.
I’ve been playing LOTS of videogames. No, I don’t feel like I’m wasting my life. Yes, I love them. No, I don’t care what you think. I’ve been doing this for years, and I have no intention of ever fully growing up. I think that since games hit the mainstream, it doesn’t really matter if I tell everyone I play videogames. The majority of people I know either play them, or they know about them. I feel like the previous generation sometimes views them in a more negative light because they don’t understand them. My mom thinks I spend too much time “alone”, but technically, I’m just “isolating” myself because I’m afraid of the world outside my door. Hopefully you caught that sarcasm. If you didn’t, you should kill yourself. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh…
Speaking of harsh, it seems my confidence is finally breaking through, so I have opened the flood gates to being a bit of a dick. That’s not to say I’m still not the nice, lovable Henry I was before; I’m just an upgraded, enhanced model version, updated with the latest firmware patches to compensate for my ill mentality. I don’t even think about the past anymore. My mind is too much in the present, and maybe a bit in the future. I use the lessons of the past to get by, like I always have, and I don’t forget, I just try not to remember the context in a negative life. Things are much easier for me socially. Everyone genuinely likes, and respects me, and are quite open about it, which is rare for me. It is hard for me to accept that people like me for who I am, but I’m finding out it’s because I haven’t liked myself for so long. I feel completely, mentally calm.
I will say this though; I still feel like my creativity is down the toilet a bit lately. I haven’t had any particularly good ideas. I’ve been so busy focusing on my school, social outings, and videogames, that I haven’t really put anything down for a while. That’s kind of why I’m writing this. I still want to express myself, but I’m finding it hard to have the time. Things move so quick, and I’m busy. Life never stops, but I don’t want it to pass me by. I don’t think it will, but I worry sometimes. I don’t want 20 years to go by and feel like I have accomplished nothing. I’m overthinking this…
Anyway, overall, life is pretty decent. I just take it day by day, like always, making mental notes, or just trying to remove wrenches from the cogs. One day at a time.
Time of your life, eh, kid?
- H
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The Anti-Narcissist aka Another Depressing Post
Dammit. God fucking dammit.
Why do I have to do this to myself? Why do I make myself feel like such utter horseshit? Berate, punish, humiliate, denigrate, manipulate… Everything pointed at me. Me, me, me. It’s all I fuckin’ talk about anymore. And I fuckin’ hate myself. So every vile emotional spewing is always directed at the person causing all of it.
Just me, myself, and I. Me, me, me.
I’m the complete opposite of my incarcerated father. All he saw was good things in himself, and terrible things in others. All I see in myself are the terrible things, and I see all the good things in others. I wonder what that says about me? That I’m humble? Or that I care too much? I can’t tell. I just know it started back in High School, when things were so bad at home that I focused on other people’s worries, and they became my own. I’ve helped a lot of people, and I rarely, if ever, ask for help. I need it the most, but no one sees it because I don’t want them to know that I suffer. I don’t want others to suffer as I have. I don’t want them to go through what I went through.
I tell people what they don’t want to hear, or I sugarcoat what I’m saying enough so that they’re willing to swallow it. I offer advice, but it’s on you to take it. When something goes wrong, and they didn’t listen, it happens just as I predicted. It scares me sometimes because I am that smart that I can see past the things others can’t. But no one understands it. They just look at me with their mouths agape, like I’m speaking another fuckin’ language.
I have a hard shell, but I’m a big softy. I let people see only what I want them to see, which is always me, but it depends on how far I’m willing to pull the curtain back. I reveal a lot, so people don’t ask questions, but it allows me to keep my deep, dark secrets at bay. I don’t like holding on to them as much as anyone, but EVERYONE has them. EVERYONE.
Sure, I had a couple of beers before I wrote this, and maybe I’m being melodramatic (wouldn’t be the first time), but I’m just sick of feeling like I can’t say what I really want to say. That I’m so broken over the fact I haven’t been in a relationship, that I’m fat, that I hold on to such dark thoughts, that I feel like I’m imploding in on myself, that I’m alone 90% of the time but don’t want to be, that I’m afraid, that I’m getting sued, that I’m constantly living in fear…
I have stability, but it’s not the stability I want. It’s not the stability I crave. Why? I don’t know. When you’ve moved as many times as I did, you end up not wanting to stay in the same place for too long. It plays tricks on your mind. Makes you think all the wrong thoughts, and put yourself in all the wrong positions. It’s retarded psychological bullcrap, but it’s true.
So here I sit, alone, on my computer, click-clacking away on the keyboard, trying to tell people how I feel, but most of it falling on deaf ears. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. But I don’t know how to get myself out of here. I don’t know how to motivate myself.
I want to believe, but all I see is fantasy. Where is my reality?
- H
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The Penitent man shall pass
I’ve been in an awful creative slump for a while now.
I feel like I can’t come up with anything good, or useful. I don’t know if it’s because I’m depressed, if I’m still getting used to my meds, if my sleep is off, if I’m just tired, or what. I know one thing’s for sure; it’s pissing me off. BIG TIME.
I want to write something interesting, something fresh, but something that isn’t as dark as my prior work. I think that’s a problem for me because I like the darkness, the sardonic nature of my characters, and the humor that I’m able to get through that. I want to write something much lighter, but I can’t find anything that would fit. I mean, Unicorns are awesome and all, but I don’t know if I can write one word of a script or story without saying FUCK half a dozen times.
Maybe I’m fighting my nature too much. Maybe I’m just not making the effort to try and work. Like I said before, I have been depressed. This summer sucked a lot of the life out of me, and what I did in the spring is long past. Maybe it’s the heat. The San Fernando Valley is a bitch during the summer, but lately, it’s been hotter than the entirety of it. And it’s Mid-September for fuck’s sakes!
I just don’t want to be that brooding guy, but I know I am. Sure, I’m funny, and I’m well liked, but my dark side is a bitch and half. I’m trying not to be the victim. I’m in control, but I don’t know what to do with that control. I’ve never really had the wheel my whole life. Someone was always driving for me.
I talked to one of my dear friends about this today, and he commented that it may take me another YEAR to figure all this out. It’s not what I want to hear, but he’s probably right. I’m a stubborn son of a bitch, and I have problems with taking the first steps towards change. I don’t get out of the house enough, and I’m rather overweight. Okay, maybe I’m fat, but I’m not obese. I’m not at the “GODDAMN, use a treadmill!” stage. That’s a step in the right direction I suppose.
The only thing really going for me is that I’m in school, and I’m giving it my all. Sometimes, that’s not enough in other people’s eyes, namely the ones helping to fund me. Maybe I expect too much out of myself. I get upset if I get a C. Anything above a B is fine, but I still feel like I can do better. I’ve only had one C+, as I said a while ago, but I felt it was deserved. The other day, on my last day of class for the next week until the new quarter starts, my professor praised me in front of the whole class about my effort. All of my other classmates had given me compliments beforehand, as that was what we were doing for each other (very 1st grade, I know), then he would comment. He called me a ‘tentpole’, which was very flattering, but I was kind of in a daze. I said I was very humbled by all of the praise I had received, but I even said I could do better. If even my best isn’t good enough for me, what ever will be?
Anyway, so I’m kind of stuck in this loophole. I don’t know if I’m just going through a REALLY long phase, or if I’m just drowning in my own depression. I did break my sobriety last Saturday, but I haven’t smoked since. I don’t really feel like going back to it anymore. I like it, sure, but it never really helped me. Maybe I just want another taste to help my creativity. Maybe I should have another taste to help it. I don’t know. I don’t want to go down that dark path again.
This probably all seems ridiculous considering how much I write per post on these things, but you have to understand, this is just me talking about my life. It’s not like I’m writing short stories, or scripts. This is purely for pleasure, and maybe to keep myself from getting rusty. I don’t edit these. I don’t refine. I just let it flow. That’s what I do. It helps me iron shit out. Public or not, I would probably be keeping a journal if it weren’t for Tumblr.
Anyway, I’ve gone on long enough. Maybe one of you has some advice for me?
Maybe not. Whatever.
- H
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Sand in the Vaseline
Why do I feel so out of place? So tortured by my own self? Angry to the point of exploding bouts of rage? Upset that I can’t find love?…
It’s a constant struggle. Same shit, different day. Half of it is bullshit, and the other half is just shit.
I never thought I’d be here, like this, in this place. I thought by now, I’d be a success, with lots of money, women, and all the happiness I could ever want. But its not to be. I sit in my apartment, alone, isolated, and unchanged. Sure, I’m going to school, and I have friends, but I don’t let anyone get close enough to really make them see what lies beneath. I put on a superficial front of happiness, while I rip myself to shreds on the inside. I can’t even talk to women all that well, as friends yes, but as something more, never. I’m an unbalanced, awkward fool that hates himself, but only wants to be himself. A walking contradiction. A callous abscess. A beast of burden, but only to myself.
I wish it weren’t this way. I wish I didn’t hide myself away from it all, living in fear. I change with the world, but that change never gives me the closure I seek. All the medication, therapy, and talking can’t change the fact that, though I’m not alone, I FEEL alone. My struggles are my own, and no one gives a fuck. I know that’s the truth, and I’m okay with that, but it still hurts. The pain is just too much, and I’m getting tired of it. It’s an old habit, a routine, one that will destroy me if I let it.
I’m falling once again into darkness, a pit that I’ve crawled out of more times than I can count on my hands, but I don’t know if I can make it out alone this time.
I just want to feel some kind of satisfaction for once, to know that I mean something to myself, not just to other people. I know a lot of people care about me, but the lack of caring for myself is what makes it a problem. But the other issue is that I’m being told to do so many different things, sending me off in different directions… I can’t follow them all, but I get the overwhelming feeling that they won’t help me, nor cure my mental ailment. I genuinely appreciate all the help, but it does nothing to ease my pain. It masks it.
And that’s what I’m always doing. Wearing different masks. Just like my fuck up of a father before me. I’m trying to break the pattern, but the pattern is creeping up on me. I hurt on the inside. External pain is nothing.
At this point, I feel that this will pass, as everything does, but what if it doesn’t? What if I keep complaining about the same things? Never finding a solution? What if I am stuck in a tormented haze for the rest of my life, unwilling to find a proper way to cope?
I’ve been sober over a month. I thought it would help, and it has, but its also made things worse in the process. It’s made me look at myself more deeply than I wished, and just recognize my flaws that much more. How much time I’ve wasted, how I’m not so young as I once was, and that my life means nothing to my family.
I’ve tried to be a good man, but even with all that good karma, my life has been filled with sadness, loss, hatred, betrayal, and darkness. I just wish it could all be over, not at the end of a noose, but at the end of a sentence.
- H
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Maximus the Merciful
It’s weird to feel nothing and everything all at once.
Sure, I feel numb, but I also feel renewed. This weekend helped me to remember, but also to forget.
I didn’t think about almost anything on the way. A 5 hour drive with a playlist of all my favorite current songs playing. The Mojave Desert. Lone Pine. Bishop. Finally, Mammoth Lakes.
California has been my home for many years, but I had never undertaken such a lengthy drive into unknown territory. Granted, I spent time in Mammoth during my tumultuous youth, but it was not to my liking. I am not fond of the cold, the elevation makes me sick, and I get really bored. Luckily, none of those things happened when I was up there, and the drive up was nice. It felt good to get out of the muck and heat of the naked city.
I don’t get to see my sister often. She’s busy at NYU, trying to finish school. She will graduate this next year, majoring in economics. It’s strange that she and I will be graduating the same year, but on opposite coasts, her in the summer, and I in the fall. I don’t feel intimidated by this as I once did, for I realize now that I am more suited to the college atmosphere than I would have been in years prior. It’s just strange to think that I have been attending this school for over a year and a half.
Anyway, she is doing okay. I met her boyfriend of 9 months for the first time. He was pretty great. I’m glad to see her with someone stable and intelligent for once, as she tends to hide her emotions away, unlike yours truly. She and I have always been on juxtaposing sides, but we have both shared similar experiences. We don’t always see eye to eye, but we try to keep things light due to not wanting to bring up the past.
However, this weekend, the past reared it’s ugly head once again, as it always does. On Friday night, I had drank a significant amount of alcohol. I was sharing a room in the condo with my mom, and we started to argue about things past and present. At some point, I don’t remember when, I began to weep. But this was not a normal weep, this was a purging kind of weep. For an hour, I cried, my mom holding me, and trying to help explain why I felt the way I did. Despite her erratic behavior, the woman has done her research, and I was told a few things that I had not been made aware of concurrently. I don’t remember all of it, but I do feel much lighter, emotionally speaking.
On Saturday, I took a 2 hour hike with the 2 of them, heading up to Minaret Vista. It was a glorious sight. I had not been near nature in a long time, and it was marvelous to see that there are still parts of this Earth left untouched by man, that hold beauty beyond that of civilization. It was eye-opening, but it was also humbling. To say Mammoth looks like Skyrim would be rather accurate believe it or not, though no snow covered the ground or mountains when I was there. It also marked one of the first times I have not complained on such a venture, in fact, I was willing to be compliant to this cause.
However, on Sunday, that changed a bit. My mom rustled in her bed all night, causing me massive lack of sleep. I awoke early that morning hoping to hike around Convict Lake, and I was promised a hearty breakfast beforehand. This was not to be. Being impatient, my mother and sister decided that we should not dine at the breakfast place, and rather, go to the lake to dine instead. I remarked that, though I was upset, I would be satisfied if they had breakfast there. When we got there, it was clear, but my breakfast was not to be. I was furious.
Now, to some, it might seem petty that I would get so upset over not being able to get breakfast, but then you wouldn’t understand that I don’t normally eat breakfast at all. I skip it and go directly to lunch because I am usually not up early enough in the morning to retrieve it. When I am promised breakfast, I consider it a big deal because that means Eggs, Sausage, Bacon, Pancakes, Coffee, Orange Juice… I love breakfast. When that promise is broken because of foolish impatience, I lose my temper, as I did.
I had to physically leave the restaurant to calm myself down due to my anger. I didn’t scream or yell, as my anger tends to boil over time, rather than just exploding all at once. It grows, and the smaller eruptions release some of the tension, but not all of it. I am rarely angry to this extent, but it was also supplemented by the fact that my mother had made me a promise, and broke it. It brought up all the times this had happened, inherently causing a pseudo-meltdown. I didn’t even get to hike around the lake because clouds blew over, and began to pour rain down into the area. I was not happy.
Finally, it was time to leave, and I hit the road again. Despite taking me only 4 1/2 hours, which is amazing considering it was a 300 mile drive, it was brutal. People in California don’t know how to drive, or what they’re doing half the time they’re driving. They are ignorant, reckless, and self-concerned beyond all hell. It makes me wonder if the accident rate will go up in the near future just because of the sheer stupidity of it all. I would go into details about this, but I do not feel the need to do so. Let’s just say that I was so frustrated when I got home, I thought I was going to kill someone, and that’s not normal for me.
Ultimately, I don’t regret my decision to head up to the mountains. As with anything, you have to take the good with the bad, the yin with the yang. I definitely feel more clearheaded, but I also feel a bit more confused. I look at myself in the mirror, and I recognize the face, but I don’t know the person behind it anymore. This has happened once before, and it will always continue to happen, but I am quite sick of being in the middle of transitional states. Riding the line is difficult, and though I do it well, I just want to be on one side or the other. I’m tired of this meandering.
I suppose only time will tell, but for now, I remain as I always have; here, there, and everywhere.
- H
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Why I do what I do
It’s almost 3 am. It’s too hot to sleep. I keep thinking about this girl.
It’s the perfect time to get something off my chest.
Recently, I’ve had some personal friends of mine follow me on here, and yet I continue to type out how I feel about my situations in the way I know best: By being my honest, true self.
But some people might be wondering, ‘Why would you put such details out for everyone to see? Aren’t you worried about the repercussions? That it might get back to you in the future?’
No.
I’m not afraid of how I feel. I’m not afraid to tell people how I feel, friend or foe. I’m not afraid of being myself, even if that means alienating others. I’m not afraid of the past catching up with me.
I’ve lived the majority of my life in fear. Fear of failing, of rejection… It’s all relative. Saying what I believe, whether or not it’s what everyone wants to hear, is more important. My past has caught up with me, in one way or another. I live it every day, but I don’t fear it like I once did. I accept it. I try and understand it so that I don’t make those same mistakes, listen to those false prophets, or those who would seek to use me. I understand that that was then, and this is now. This is who I am at this moment, and even if I’m different, or think differently 10, 15, 20 years down the line, I have to accept that this is who I was at the time. That is what gives me peace.
Everything changes, for better or worse. I go with the change. I only force change when it is something that I truly want for myself, and not for anyone else. It’s not worth it. I changed for people before, but it never made me happy, in fact, it made my existence a living hell.
I don’t think so far ahead into the future. Like everyone, I have plans. I want to travel, I want to do things, have new experiences, and learn as much as I can. But those are long-term goals, not something that will effecting me in the next 5 minutes. I don’t want my future to always be preplanned, predestined. I want to live in the moment, as I see fit. I want to experience joy, pain, and every other emotion when it happens, not know that it’s going to occur. Surprise is part of the beauty of living, even when it’s not a good one. For all I know, I could drop dead in 2 days, or 70 years. But why should I worry about that now?
In terms of regrets, I have many. More than I can count on one hand, shit, even two. I feel bad about them, but I don’t let those regrets rule my life. I don’t let them wash over me like they once did, destroying facets of my being, and causing me enumerable amounts of pain. Regrets are part of life. We all have them, and we can’t escape them, so why try? The key is to appreciate that you are not perfect. No human is. Perfection is boring, and it leads to anonymity. It becomes routine.
In finality, I write what I write because it’s how I feel. My personal truth is not just mine, it’s everyone’s. I share it because I know that others feel like I do. They go through good times and bad, they live, they experience, they understand. I am here to help you understand by allowing you to look through my lens. To see the world as I do, imperfections and all.
Let go, and live.
- H
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Jump off the end.
The water’s clear and innocent…
There’s not as much on my mind as I’d be willing to admit. I haven’t posted anything lately because… Well, when you don’t have anything to talk about, especially for someone like me, it’s hard to jump back into it.
I guess there are a few things that have been bugging me. Scratch that, there’s always something bugging me. It’s just a matter of how much.
First things first;
I think I’m in love with a girl who has a boyfriend. I’m not sure if I LOVE love her, but I find myself drawn to her, and I feel that she is drawn to me. This places a big conundrum on me because I have morals. I am not someone who wants to try and break something up, nor cause trouble or emotional damage, but in this case, I can’t help myself. There’s something about her. Sure, she’s gorgeous, but it’s who she is that I’m drawn to. The good looks are a bonus. Whenever we talk, I feel like we’re connected, and despite not being around her all too often, I feel like we are close, that I can open myself up to her, show her who I am, without fear of being judged or ridiculed. When I see her, I can’t help but feel good. I don’t know if she feels the way I do, but I sense that there is something between us besides being friends. I’m not the most handsome dude, but I think she doesn’t care, and that makes me feel more confident to be me. I don’t know what the next step is, but I plan on hanging out with her soon, one on one. Even if things don’t turn out as I hope, I still feel I’ll get a very close friend. For me, this is a win-win scenario.
I haven’t really thought about women nearly as much as I normally do. Maybe this a consequence of confidence, and wanting to be a better man for my sake, not anyone else’s.
Speaking of which; I have stopped smoking pot. This is a huge step for me because I have smoked myself to the point of oblivion this past year and a half, drowning out my sorrow in a cloud of haze. A few weeks back, I came to the realization that it was hurting me more than it was helping me, where as in the past, I was not as effected by it, but soon, the habit began to become an addiction. It was after visiting with a close friend of mine, and him saying I was an “asshole” when I was high that made the cogs start to turn in my head, to bring myself back from the brink, and to rebuild myself. The last 4 days have been spent entirely on change for me. I got a haircut, I cleaned my apartment, and I began reading again. I have lived with this for too long, and at some point, I would have fallen apart, but it would have been my own doing, not that of anyone else. I am willing to admit that the self-medication masked the pain, but it could not hide it. The only way I’m going to feel better is if I’m not predicated to living by the ebbs and flows of a plant. I love it still, but I will not sacrifice myself, or my future, or any of my relationships for it. This is where the boy becomes a man. This doesn’t mean I won’t do it in the future, but it will be way less frequent. With my prescription being up, I currently have no real way to get it legally anyway, so I have forced myself into a corner with this issue. Like I said before, I did this for me, not anyone else. I wanted this. I saw that my self-destructive behavior would destroy me if I did not resist. I won’t give in.
Turning 24 helped me realize how fucking dumb I’ve acted… The misery I’ve caused myself, the loneliness, the ostracization…
No, I will not turn in on myself anymore. If I want to fix something, I have to do it. I can’t just wait for it to come my way. I had to learn this on my own.
Whether it be fate, destiny, or otherwise, something within me is telling me to quit while I’m ahead. I cannot rest on my laurels any longer, living in the dark. I must rise, much like Batman, and I must become the man I wanted to be for so long. I must take it for myself.
I’m not afraid anymore.
- H
Team Headband no longer.