Closed Letter to Someone

Dear Matthew,

There are nights like these every now and then.  They seem to be more frequent lately, but I have not been able to pinpoint why exactly that is.  There are a number of variables, and not all of them are under my control.  That last part is sort of frightening, because it means that there may be nothing that I can do about it.  It is quite literally "out of control."

Despite what some of my acquaintances believe, I am not a control freak.  I believe that you should exert as much control as you can over everything of which you have control.  This is a human thing.  As I become older and begin to become what I think may be called "a man," I observe that people are in fact not inherently good.  The most simple example of this is a baby.  A baby is truly self-obsessed, crying and causing a big scene every time it wants (not needs) anything.  A baby does not care about your need for sleep, or that you may be speaking to someone.  It wants your attention, and it demands it right this instant.  This is how people really are.  People are concerned only with their own well-being, naturally.  It is society that conditions us to believe that there is such thing as a "greater good," and even that is a fallacy.  That belief exists because it benefits individual people to have their society believe as a whole that there is an inherent value in taking care of and caring for an individual other than one's own self.  In reality, this belief in a greater good serves only the very top and the very bottom of society.  The people who receive the benefit directly are at the bottom (welfare, charity, etc), and the people on top benefit because it draws the "needy" away from them and they are therefore not distracted from their own pursuits.  Don't think that just because some people have made a complete life out of "self less" service and that such that my theory is disproved.  It only proves true that not everyone measures a benefit in the same way.

Do not forget that we will always fail to express the truth of our own insignificance.  Here we hurtle through the universe at incomprehensible speeds, and under the weight of tremendous forces that we only barely understand.  We are but one planet of an uncountable total of planets.  We are the tiniest fraction of a unit of time in the lifespan of the physical world.  So to make ourselves feel better, we create GodHeads and other cosmic distractions.  This mostly serves to make us feel special.  Like we were put here, in this very place, for a reason.  Once again, this does not bear out to be true.  Perhaps 0.000000001% of all people who have ever lived will be remembered by more than 50 people 100 years after their death.  And I have a feeling that I am being extremely generous in my estimate.

On nights like this one, I think we can run around the planet and save the physical life of every god-forsaken wretch who is born while we're alive.  We can do this.  We literally have the means to ensure that no one dies, quote-unquote, prematurely.  What the fuck does that mean, anyways?  Why do people seem to think it is less valid to die from cancer or a car accident than from a heart attack while you're 90 years old and asleep?  Humans never were meant to live this long anyway.  We used to die out in our 30s, then 40s, then 50s.  After our 50s, it's almost a joke.  With modern science we have been able to prolong our bodies well in to our 70s before things really start going wrong.  Our muscles fail, our organs fail, our bones fail.  We are built to fail.  We were meant to live hard and fast, all the way up until the point at which someone else is living even harder and even faster and we were just in the way.  We're barely animals anymore.  I look at myself in the mirror and think, "God, what an embarrassment," and I'm not even all that bad!

On nights like this one, I feel compelled to sell something, buy some gas, and drive away.  Pick a direction and drive.  Doesn't matter where.  Never stop driving.  And once I'm out of gas, start walking.  Same direction, just keep walking.  And when I can't walk, die.  Just lay there and die.  Why not?  What's the argument?  So much to live for?  A brilliant mind?  An ability to excel at every single thing that I attempt?  So what?  What the fuck is the point?  I can use my mind to solve the problems of everyone I know, and what have I achieved?  I have robbed them of the opportunity to use their own mind.  I can use my body to build homes and shelter those who have no shelter, but what is gained?  I have momentarily distracted them from their past lifetime of shit and their assured future of shit?  Why?  Even if that is a good thing, what does it matter?  Do not tell me that it is all we can do to help people in our lives while we're here and hope that we made some kind of impact.  Not an acceptable answer to me.  Fuck 'em.

I may only have proof of my intelligence being "top 2%," but I tend to think of myself as being in the general top 2% of people.  Meaning that I am not going to deny that I have several gifts that most people do not.  I am able to will things into being that other people could not have imagined in the first place.  I am able to manipulate my world and put people where they should be, and myself as well.  These things are tools in a toolbox that I carry with me everywhere I go.  Why?  A plumber has a monkey wrench, but a fat lot of good it will do him when he has to fix a broken window.  The problem is not problems.  The problem is enlightenment.  The problem is that I am not.  It is not true that love will (fill in the blank).  Love perpetuates hate.  It is true that if there were no love in the world, there too would be no hate.  People usually hate because they cannot love.  For those of us who are doing neither, I suspect we mostly just feel anger.  People tend to confuse anger with hate, because they think that we are angry at something that we hate.  This is not correct.  We just are angry.  It is like in Japan, where I understand that you would not really say to someone "I love you," but rather you'd say something along the lines of "loving" and the object person would infer that it is them who is putting you in that state.  This is how love works.  Or at least, this is how I remember love working.  It is a terrible place to be when you do not love anyone.  When you are a single atom floating through an otherwise voided vacuum, it occurs to you that there will be no reactions occurring.  There will be no chance collisions, and you will continue to be a single atom floating in a vacuum, until you off-gas or whatever enough to finally disappear.

What is the future plan?  Become a lawyer?  Make a ton of money? Fight for more rights for people? Or less rights for people?  Fight to write laws that save the planet?  Fight to write laws that perpetuate humans?  What is the point?  What is the point?  What is the point?  If I crashed my truck and ended up in the hospital,  who would be there?  Who would I want to be there?  Of those that I'd want there, how many would come?  How many would come without me calling them?  How many would demand others came, too?  What is the point?  What is the point?  What is the point?  Future feels distant and undesirable. 

On nights like this one, I listen to Lucero:

It's nights like these that make me sleep all day  

It's nights like these that make you feel so far away 

It's nights like these when nothing is for sure  

It's nights like these I don't want you anymore  

And I've only got this one wish  

That I was good enough to make you forget  

The only boy who ever broke your heart  

Cause nights like these tear me apart  

It's nights like these the sad songs don't help  

It's nights like these your heart's with someone else  

It's nights like these I feel like giving up  

It's nights like these I don't seem to care for much  

The beer tastes like blood and my mouth is numb  

I can't make the words I need to say  

She had a weakness for writers  

And I was never that good at the words anyways

It's on nights like this one that I look for something to hold on to, and it seems like there is not anything there.  It's on nights like this one that I realize how much I have accomplished, and how there has been nothing that I have really ever failed to accomplish.  To fail, you must first try, and for everything that I have ever actually tried to do, I have also succeeded.  My documented "failures" are all things that I never really tried to do.  Wouldn't this normally be the sort of thing that propels a person forward?

On nights like this one, I feel that it's all a big joke that no one else gets.

On nights like this one, the future feels like the past.  The path has been walked, and the lessons are already learned.  And what of it?  A very well informed corpse with a good understanding of the machinations of other corpses?  At best, yes.

Love,

Nathan

Get Real Already

What do you think is going to change?

You're going to look different?
You're going to act different?
You're going to be better at something?

You're going to worse at something else?

It's all bullshit.  You are who you are, and no one ever changes.  The only thing that changes is how the world perceives you.  In one moment, you're talentless, and in the next, visionary. 

You already know these people, and you know how they think.  You cannot change them.  There are other people, though.  People who may get it.  I hold on to some sliver of something that tells me that they are out there, and that they will form the army that I see in my mind.  They will understand the importance and the historic nature of you.  They will tell their children, and their grandchildren's children will find photographs and do research, and love you from afar.  They will feel kinship and wonder what it was like then.  They will wonder what you would think about their modern issues.  Things that you never could have conceived of having to have an opinion on.

They will wonder what things would have been like if the world only understood you.

Away We Go

You are an unsinkable boat
   on an endless sea
I am the sea

You hold everything that I have ever believed
I do not believe in anything anymore

You will float forever
I am that into which everything sinks

Nuit Blanche

Excellent.

Duh, lil' 'piph'nies

Sometimes I have "duh" moments.  Moments when super obvious things finally occur to me in real time and in real words.  The latest is the concept of "worth."

A person's worth is directly related to the amount of time one is willing to spend with or on them (notice the use of the words 'worth' and 'spend' which are obviously linked).  This means that a person's worth can be consistently quantified in units of time.  In other words, what a man's worth is may be answered by "2 hours."  A person is worth time.  People who are especially valuable (for one reason or another), remain present in timespace far beyond their actual living time.  Think of any now-dead historical figure.  They will be worth the aggregate total amount of time ever spent with or on them.  I think that I would like to add the personal caveat that time defined by negative energy (time spent bad mouthing a person, or perhaps planning and executing their assassination, just to give examples) is akin to negative time.  So here is a concrete example in super basic time: 

A ruler of a land.

Total amount of positive time spent on this person DURING their lifetime: 50,000 hours (remember, this would include time spent willingly WITH the person, as well as ON the person, which may include buying gifts or doing favors, or whatever).

Total amount of positive time spent on this person during all time AFTER their lifetime:  100,000 hours (students doing proud history projects in school, people debating this ruler's creative ruling style, et al)

Total amount of negative time spent on this person DURING lifetime: 65,000 hours (this person may have been a despot and a tyrant, which a large group of people constantly wishing them death and a few actually planning his assassination).

Totaly amount of negative time spent on this person AFTER lifetime:  750,00 hours (his legacy was well known by history).

This would mean that total positive time equaled 150,00 hours, while total negative time was worth 815,000 hours.  This human being's net worth was -665,000 hours.  This was not a worthy person.  This person COST existence that much time.

The fun part about this line of thinking is that it begs the question: How much time are you willing to spend on YOURSELF?  How long can you stand to be alone, without feeling the need to obtain company?  Your answer will apparently be directly related to your concept of self-worth.  Your self worth should always be a positive amount.  If you spend your time hating on your looks and your abilities, you are depreciating your own value.  You are devaluing your most abundant resource.  Stop it.  Start investing in your self, and your self worth will increase in value.  USUALLY, this translates into other's worths of you, as well, which will help give positive time back to creation, in turn helping to make up for the massive empty hole left by the aforementioned cruel leader. Anyways, this is sort of rambling, but I do believe that I've made my point.  Let's start reinvesting positive time into the universe in order to increase our worth and expand timespace.  Or, at the very least, let's start being  honest about how we rate the worthiness of our friends and family.  How much is that person ACTUALLY worth to you in measurable units?

Recent Sexy Dream Participants UPDATE

Erin
Julee
Ashlee
and now introducing...Leslie!

Congratulations Leslie!

UPDATE:
I feel bad that I forgot to mention Terra, but Terra has definitely participated as well.

Just Asking For It

I'm now openly asking someone to direct me to either pursue or NOT pursue Ms. Julee once again. Give me what you got.

I'm cleaning out my garage

Parents bought me some plastic shelving, which is perfect. They are lightweight but heavy duty enough to hold hundreds upon hundreds of cd cases and old shirts and novelty underwear and whatever else is floating around my garage. It was important that they be lightweight so that they aren't a super bitch to move when our lease is up (my old shelving was super heavy chromed metal and it was awful to move).

I'm cleaning this garage up. It was already pretty bad, then Louis "cleaned" the house and basically just threw everything from the living room and main house randomly into the garage. So it was almost unbearably messy. Shit everywhere. I walked in and literally said, "Oh, my God. Shit everywhere. There's shit everywhere! Damnit! There's shit on the windows! Oh, my God! My house is full of shit! He shit everywhere! Look what he did! He shit all over the walls! There's shit everywhere!" Or something like that. I don't remember EXACTLY what I said. Whatever.

Anyways, so I'm cleaning that shit and finding crazy old stuff. Like pictures of me from back in the day. And of old friends. And other things. Old clothes. Magazines. Books. CDs. I miss some of my friends that I don't get to see much. I realize that there is a chance that I'll leave for Peace Corps while Leslie is off exploring the world in the way that she has chosen to do so. I found a picture of her from her prom when she wore a blue dress with black bow detail stuff and was very tan and Stevie sort of ruined the picture, but he didn't look all that bad honestly. I found pictures from Cancun of myself with my shirt off. I found pictures from Italy of me and Elizabeth and my hair looks like Anthony Kiedis' hair did a few years ago, although the picture predates that stage of his career. Prom pics with Julee and Co. Fun times. We looked good. That one picture that haunts me of me flexing in front of my dad's car after it was painted. To be back there. I hate not being able to stop looking backwards. Saying more than once that things will change is worse than never knowing that they need to in the first place.

More and more

Some of my friends have postulated that I have an odd ability to befriend people who will need me in a significant way at some point. Some of my friends consider this a weakness. Some of my friend consider this a strength. Some of my friends probably don't think this is true anyways. I think that I do tend to meet people who are in hard places in life. Or maybe everyone has those hard places, and I just tend to be around when they go down. Whatever. The point is that I seem to always be called on during major crises. I've mentioned before that I love this about my life. It is kind of like being good at a really important job. I don't know, like being a food safety investigator who has never let an outbreak of E. Coli slip by on his watch or something. I mean, the other thing here is that people define crisis in different ways. For some, the crisis is simply whether or not to take a chance on loving someone unexpected. For others, it is whether they are going to be able to survive living with their parents any longer. For others still it is whether they will have a home and their daughter when they leave. I helped Terra move out of her mesa house and away from her raging husband. I packed up her uhaul. I drove to tucson to help unload it. I even slept there and tried to help console her. I tried to convince Heather that it was going to work out (it did). Et cetera et cetera. Et Set Terra. I wonder if it is that people who need me find me, or that people that I need find me. Or maybe that I'm just more aware of people who need help. I don't know. I think that it really comes down to whether I'm here for everyone else, or if they're here for me.

Reevaluating the shit

It is part of every responsible person's duty to periodically reevaluate their feelings and decisions on various experiences. For myself, this includes past relationships, conversations, career plans, and personal creeds. Of course, the most obvious things for me to reconsider occasionally are Julee, med school, and straight edge.
The Julee thing is fairly open and shut. I think that I maybe should have stuck with Danette that night at prom, but then everything nowadays would be upside down. I don't know that I'd even be able to have this sort of reflection. I'd probably be a kinesiology student still, for instance. I don't know, it's impossible to say what could have been. I still occasionally miss Julee, but I am mostly glad that I'm away from her. I have developed a new taste for women, and a new appreciation as well. I see now that if I were to meet Julee NOW, I wouldn't be all that interested in her, really.
Medical school is too vague to talk about. I wonder if it is the right decision, but I don't think that I'm ready to commit to either side.
Straight edge demands reflection. Any reason that I have for STAYING straight edge will probably be different than any reason I had for BECOMING straight edge. I wonder if I'm not depriving myself of something, as opposed to protecting. I still generally view alcohol and drugs and casual sex as detrimental to spiritual fulfillment, but is it really so black and white? Small amounts of alcohol or weed can actually have beneficial effects on the body (and the soul, according to some), so why do we take such a hard line stance? Should not the stance be against getting drunk as opposed to drinking? Is it true that you can not have an honest opinion on a situation to which you are unexperienced? Because I've never been high, can I really say that I don't see any spiritual betterment in doing so? This is not the same thing as abortion.
Someone who has never known love cannot say that it isn't important to them, I don't think. Someone who has never had sex cannot say that sex is not important to them, unless they throw an asterisk on the end of that statement. And what about the word love? In an effort to retain the sacred aspect of SOMEthing, I used to hold back my affection. I was separated. Kisses considered too valuable. Sex considered distant. The word itself saved for unique situations. Maybe we'd be better people if we didn't overload that word, or put too great of expectations on it. Why can't we redefine love? People claim that using the word too often devalues it. This may be true, and in fact probably is. But that's why we have poetry, isn't it? We can prove the level of our love (love is a spectrum, after all) by our actions, more so than we'd ever be able to with words. Sometimes it may be better for us to tell someone we love them, even if we don't LOVE THEM. Why is there some weird quota involved here? It feels like we attribute the word to a feeling we had with someone at some point, and then we only use it again when we achieve the same feeling or something greater. If we do THAT, I fear that we might be OVERvaluing the word. Why not just love everyone, but be aware that perhaps we love some people more than others, and that the word may not always mean the same thing every time we use it? The danger lies in the interpretation of the word by the other person. If I tell someone that I love them, they may not understand exactly how I feel. Once again, poetry comes into our lives and demands that single words only superficially represent the way that we feel. Didn't Adam tell me that the Japanese don't say "I love you," but rather use a word that basically means "loving" or is a verb for a loving feeling experienced at that moment? This makes more sense to me. In this way, we are not locking ourselves into a designated height of expression, but rather just saying "At THIS moment, I feel something for you that it tremendously positive and enjoyable." However, I wouldn't dare say that to a girlfriend who just said she loves me, lest she cut my testicles off.
So what's the point? Love is transient and subjective. How we feel at any point is only how we feel at THAT point. If I'm laying next to someone and I feel my mouth forming the words, "I love you," maybe I'll just say it. Or maybe I'll preface it and protect my own future heart by saying. "At this moment, I feel love for you." It's hard to say.
Is the whole straightedge thing similar to veganism? I don't know. I feel like since I have already categorized the animal products industry as a negative thing, I cannot partake at all. In other words, I've decided that it is bad, so for me to support it would just be hypocritical in the most damaging way. It isn't even really possible to say, "veganism is too hard, I'm going to just have a little bit of cheese now and then," because I know that it ISN'T too hard. Or maybe it is, but I like to think that we ought to allow things into our lives that we know are hard, because it makes us better. If it really IS too hard, then you don't just throw it out the window. You strive and strive for it, and actually do the best that you can. You don't just SAY that you're trying your hardest. I mean, I think that I'd rather you didn't try at all than to lie to everyone and lower your standards. The point though is that I don't necessarily consider alcohol and weed to be the same as like meat and fur. The meat and fur are damaging and destructive in their production, and my consumption thereof only encourages that. My support further enhances the idea that man has been given unchecked domination over all of creation. That we can decide who dies and why. We're all just creatures. Weed and/or alcohol are only as bad as the people who consume them. Getting drunk is damaging, but is DRINKING that bad? Some of the most respected and peaceful peoples in the history of peoples enjoyed the occasional drink (or smoke). Who else might I be? And besides, people who are straight edge are usually just scared, honestly. Scared of various things, but scared nonetheless. Maybe of their past, or their family's past. Maybe of the future, or a lack thereof. It's hard to say.

Just Kill It Already

Is it ever appropriate to tell someone else to break up with their (in)significant other? I mean, if they are being beaten or abused, then duh, but I mean just based on the general trials of relationships. I mean, it is sort of arrogant to say, "I've heard one side of this story, and I can make a serious decision based on that." Also, it is foolish to say, "Well, because my similarly based relationship failed and needed to fail, I think that yours should, too." It's hard to tell someone that they should not be with who they are with, even if it seems so obvious to me. So I try not to. I try to lead the person to my own conclusion by laying out what it is that I see from the outside, since they are often blinded by the experience. However, I am aware that they will not always draw the same conclusion, as evidenced by the 30 different understandings obtained by the 30 different people all sitting in the same lecture. I'm not JUST talking about Ash or Adam here, but people in my life in general. Oh, I need to go to Body Positive. Later yo.

13.1 Miles of Vindication

Let's start with Saturday. The expo. We were going to drive together, but Julee stayed at her parents' house, which is in Phoenix, so we decided to just meet at the convention center. We were both late, though I was a little extra late. Whatever. We meet there. Hug. Honesty: she doesn't look as good as I was remembering, though she certainly didn't look bad. Her eyes are smaller, somehow. Memory magnifies, I suppose. We walked around the expo and got some free stuff, and then took off. Nothing big.

The plan for Sunday was that I'd call her and pick her up then drive us both to the pick up spot for the shuttles (you park at the finish, then take a shuttle to the start so that when you're done you can just walk to your car. This all required that we be parked and waiting for a shuttle before 7:30, since the last shuttle leaves at that time. I had some trouble sleeping the night before, and ended up getting up and taking a shower around 5:15 or so. I ate then and called her, apparently waking her up. I found out later that she was stupid and went out drinking the night before (didn't get drunk, but was out until like 3:30am, and was wearing heels), so she only got about an hour of sleep. The entire morning from when I picked her up until we actually passed mile one she complained about how tired she was ("to the point of nausea"), and how she sort of wished that she had slept through my phone call and stayed home. We stayed together until around mile 9.5, at which point I was having some issues (my right knee), so I told her to go ahead if she wanted to. She really wanted to break 3:00 hours (we were on pace for about 2:55 or so if we had been able to continue that same pace, though I would've held her back what with my knee).

She took off then, and I took to a steady quick walking pace. I kept this same pace until about mile 11, at which point I was planning on running again, however, my knee was only worse, so I decided to hold out for the last .6 miles or so. Also, my left ankle was starting to act up a bit. I found myself at mile 12, and I was starting to feel the beginning of cramps in both of my calves, and my right quad, so I hit a cup of Accelerade, and looked for a COACH who might have salt (the marathon hires people to walk around certain portions of the race shouting encouragement and possibly advice. Some of these people also carry salt with them for people who may be cramping, although certainly not all of them do this). I then ran out of water, and entered the bridge over Tempe Town Lake (Mill Ave Bridge), which told me that I was about .8 miles from the finish, with no water in sight. I spotted a COACH and asked them if they had any salt, which they did not. Worried, but not too much so, I decided to just go, since there was no help between where I was and the finish. So I picked it up to a quick pace and ran the bridge. On the way down the bridge however, my left calf and my right quad entered full spasming cramps, which was intense. At the bottom of the bridge, when we take a left on to Rio Salado, they were both largely completely seized, so I stopped for a moment and tried to stretch them out. This sort of helped, and I started walking again. After about 100 meters, I decided that I was going to run that last little .4 miles regardless, so I took back up, and didn't stop until I was through the line.

I was a little more exhilarated than I expected, honestly, as I weeded my way through the massive chaos that is the ending line family reunion area. I couldn't find my mom, so I just made my way back to my car. I met up with Julee, who DID finish under 3:00 (I think she was like 2:53). I finished 3:05, by the way. We walked back to get my car, only to realize that I had parked on the third floor of a parking garage. The stairs looked pretty hardcore, so we just walked to HER car (she had left it nearby the night before), and she was going to drive me up to mine. She did this, and then we promptly sat in a line for 20 minutes. I think that an ambulance was on the first floor, blocking anyone from leaving. I felt really bad about this though, because Julee was supposed to be at work at 2:00, and we didn't get out of that garage until 1:40. In any case, I decided to play at mass that night, because I wasn't dying, and I sort of need the money.

Here's the point, though: I'm over her. I realized that I still think she is cool and smart and all that, but that I'm not attracted to her anymore. Physically. Emotionally. Whatever. I look at her as a friend now. I can't guarantee that this is a permanent condition, since she will always be a very specific character in my love history, but for now, I have moved on. I think that is what I am most excited about after this weekend. I mean, I set a new distance watermark for myself, and I proved that I can do something that I was wondering if I was going to be able to do, but really, moving on from her is much larger. I'm happy about this.

"Moving on moving on from town to town
Movin' on I can't seem to stop now
Movin' on I never seem to slow down"

Movin' On by Bad Company

Her Legs Grow

This next weekend is the Half Marathon. That's 13.1 miles through Phoenix and a little bit of Tempe. This post isn't really about running, though. It's about Julee.

I spoke to her on the phone this morning about how we're going to work this weekend out. The expo is on Saturday, and that is where you go to get all final registration stuff and race number and all that. There are also vendor booths and free stuff and whatnot. It's a lot of fun, actually. I went with her last year when she ran the full marathon, and we said that we'll go together this year since parking is a bitch and we're both doing it anyways. So that's Saturday. I think that on Sunday we'll probably drive to the race together, too.

Speaking to her on the phone is weird, still. I mean, it's hard for me to deny that I still have feelings for her. She is perhaps THE most intelligent girl that I've ever known (sorry Ash and others), which is tremendously appealing to me. I recently had a conversation with Ambuler about how it's hard for me to find girls that I can really talk to (I can listen to anyone, but it's hard to find someone who can actually listen back). Now, those of you who have been around for a year or more may remember that I became disconcerted by the fact that I didn't talk to Julee. Paul died, and I didn't call my girlfriend. I called someone else. I felt like I couldn't speak to her about stuff like that. Now that we're just friends though, I am able to talk to her about more things, so it's like the one MAJOR issue in the relationship has been worked out. That makes it difficult for me for what I would think are obvious reasons.

It is sort of evident to me that she has the same problems with guys that I have with girls. She cannot find guys who are smart enough to talk to her and listen to her. She knows though that I am that guy. That's why she wants us to remain friends, I think. So that she has more than just girls in her life, because she doesn't even really like girls, I don't think.

Is it arrogant to assume that she still harbors secret feelings for me? If she holds valuable the same things that she used to, then there is no way that she doesn't. Or is that the flaw of the ex? To always assume that they are still wanted? Hmmm.

So anyways, here're the main points:

1) Julee and I are essentially spending the whole weekend together
2) We will be in more or less vulnerable/embarrassing situations that generally render one overly emotional
3) I obviously still have feelings for her
4) Am I afraid of the word "love"?
5) I am worried that she'll ask me to get back with her or something after the race
6) Aren't these the same things that I wondered about when we met for coffee months ago?
7) I wonder if I'm somehow thinking with the wrong part of my body (head vs heart, you perverts)?


I guess I don't really know what the hell is going on. Oh, and just to add to her litany of confusing actions, Duffy rolled her eyes in frustration when she walked in on me talking to Ambuler about hanging out with Julee this weekend.

I think that I'd like to hook up with one or two girls at least before getting seriously considering getting back with Juju. I mean, if I didn't, then this whole time off would have been a stupid pointless lie. Someone stop me.

I think that honestly if I manage to get back into shape, I will want her less. Does that make sense? I am also making the possibly erroneous assumption that after I lost some weight I'll be better able to meet other girls, so that must be related somehow. I don't know, like I said, someone stop me.

"Your Legs Grow" by Nada Surf

If you were here
baby we'd increase the dose
there was no fear
in my room when we got close
call me anytime you've got a ghost

you're the only person in the world
i feel that way about
and if you move off to the side
i'll get swept back out
where it's cold but not that deep
cuz your legs grow
cold but not that deep
cuz your legs grow

there's a light that rises up
from the bottom of the lake
and its beam has hit me hard
now i'm wide awake
where it's cold but not that deep
cuz your legs grow
cold but not that deep
cuz your legs grow

if you were here
baby we'd increase the dose
there was no fear
in my room when we got close
call me anytime you've got a ghost

On Why I'm So Manly

Adam picked me up around 11:40 or so and we went to GETINTHEZONEAUTOZONE, then he dropped me off at my truck, which was sitting in a pile of its own shame in the Pei Wei parking lot. I replaced the fuel filter, but that didn't fix it, so I called the shop and had them send a tow truck. Blah blah blah, now here is why I am manly:

I wore my fake Dickies Jacket, which still has some cologne on it from the last time I used it. Then, I got gasoline smell all over me from changing the fuel filter. THEN, I got into the tow truck and the driver smoked. So I am a combination smell of cologne, gasoline, and cigarettes. How sexy is THAT?

“Smell that! That's gasoline you smell in there. You can't buy any perfume in the world that smells as sweet.”

William K. Whiteford

Strange Strange Time

Sometimes I like to fantasize about not eating. At all. For long periods of time, like political statement long. Just let myself whither away. Muscle. Fat. Skin. Hair. Nails. Teeth. Let it all beg for salvation. But just let it all die. I don't think that I'D die this way, rather, I think I see it as a rebirth. A way to shed all the muscle that reminds me how strong I USED to be, and the skin that reminds me how clear it USED to be, and the fat that reminds me just how fat I AM. A way to put a pile of plates in the ground and cover it in dirt. A way to grow daisies with memories, instead of dreams. Are pain and results directly proportional? They just might be. I'm sure that all things worthwhile are painful, but I'm not yet positive that the most worthwhile are also the most painful. Is there any way else that I could be? I don't think so. So for the ultimate birth, I guess I'd be needing the ultimate death.

"Give me love
Give me love
Give me peace on earth
Give me light
Give me life
Keep me free from birth
Give me hope
Help me cope, with this heavy load
Trying to, touch and reach you with,
heart and soul
O(h)m my Lord...
Please take hold of my hand, that
I might understand you
Won't you please
Oh won't you"

Give Me Love by George Harrison

I sometimes wish that I could flit in and out of people's lives unquestioned. That I was able to be there for a moment, make an impact, and then float away secretly lonely. This seems impossible though, as the more that I make myself emotionally available, the more people realize how few people are willing to do this. This realization is followed usually by an immense request. That's okay, that's why I'm here. But how great would it be to be KNOWN for being absent all the time except when you need it most? Would people demand less, but expect more? I'd love that, I think.

"I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you
They bought and sold you.

I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know how you were diverted
You were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
No one alerted you.

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
Look at you all . . .
Still my guitar gently weeps."

While My Guitar Gently Weeps by George Harrison

I rarely get overwhelmed, but sometimes I feel like giving up. It seems so silly to me that nothing bad happens to ME, but instead to all of the people in my life. Is this an indication that the universe really does revolve around me? I had a decent upbringing, never really wanting much more than I got. I wasn't abused or lied to. I didn't make any major mistakes, and I wasn't the victim of someone else's. I haven't wasted love, and I realize how big that is. So why don't I have cancer? Why aren't I addicted? Why haven't I lost the love of my life? What's the deal? Is this all build up until the major event that will truly destroy me? When it gets to be too much, I like to think that I have a strategy, but it mostly involves trying not to cry, even if I'm sitting alone.

"Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby

Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby

Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby"

Golden Slumbers by The Beatles

I really like when sitcoms have dramatic episodes. For instance, I love the episodes of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air when Will's dad shows up and gets back into Will's heart, only to break it again at the end. In all honesty, and at the risk of sounding like a geek, this was the episode that proved Will Smith's acting ability. At the end, he breaks down, and everytime I watch it, I still secretly cry. The only thing that has changed since the first time that I saw it is that if I'm alone I'm not ashamed to cry. The series finale of Roseanne is also excellent. In the last season or so, the show gets really weird. They win the lottery, Roseanne/Jackie's mom comes out as a lesbian, Dan has a heart attack, Jackie starts dating the Prince of Moldavia, Dan cheats on Roseanne, Darlene and David's baby is delivered premature and is supposed to die but lives. So anyways, it sounded really like the show had jumped the shark, but the last episode reveals that the season was a creation of the character of Roseanne, who took up writing as a coping strategy after Dan's heart attack, which he actually died from. The rest of the season is basically her way of running away or fantasizing, which is why so much great stuff happened. What really happened is: Jackie is a lesbian, her mother is not, Dan died from his heart attack, Darlene's baby (with Mark, not David) was delivered premature and somehow survived, Becky had gotten together with David, and Roseanne had begun writing. Anyways, in the series finale, when she exposes all of this, she comes to the point of telling about Dan dying and she almost starts crying, and I almost do as well. There was also an earlier episode I think where Dan's dad dies or something, and Dan cries, and it's pretty hard for me to watch as well. Now that I think about it, there was another episode of Fresh Prince that makes me cry, but I can't remember what it was. There was an episode of Scrubs that did as well, but I can't quite remember it well enough at this point to talk about it. Maybe I'll make a post of the things that have made me cry in my life. I can probably remember just about all of them. Here's a teaser: Fresh Prince, Roseanne, Julee, Paul, Magnolia, Armageddon, About Schmidt, Castaway, and some other stuff as well.

"Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Jai guru deva, om,
Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
They call me on and on across the universe,
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Jai guru deva, om,
Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing
Through my opened ears inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying Love which shines around me like a
million suns, It calls me on and on
Across the universe
Jai guru deva, om,
Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva
Jai guru deva"

Across the Universe by The Beatles

Leave Them, We Gotta Go

So in my efforts to be there for people, I sometimes fail. I do this mental triage thing that basically says, "Okay, so who needs the most right at this moment? Who needs the second most? Ok, go." Should the triage instead be "Who matters the most to you at this moment"? It's hard, I guess. It's hard to look at three people, decide that you only have time for two, and just hope the other one understands. Combine this with my abstract concept of time (you'll notice, if you speak to me on the phone, how rarely I can actually say what day something happened on). I find that a week passes by before I realize even a day is gone. I hope that my friends grasp this about me, and that they will grant me their patience.

I hadn't spoken to Erin for a while (relatively), and I thought that she was mad at me, because every time we DID talk, she said very little:

Me: "So how was your day?"
Erin: "Fine."
Me: "...What did you do?"
Erin: "Work."
Me: "Anything happen at work?"
Erin: "No, just work stuff."
Me: "NOTHING happened today?" (this is the point at which my sensibility demands you to recognize at least ONE positive aspect of the day, so learn to identify this question)
Erin: "NO, just work. What do you want me to say?"
Me: "I don't know, SOMETHING"
Erin: "Ok, fine, I woke up, felt like shit, drove to work, got bitched at by my boss, did everyone's work like I always do, then I left work and now I'm talking to you."
Me: "Sounds like fun"
Erin: "Yeah, it was a blast"
Me: "..."
Erin:
Me: "..."
Erin:
Me: "You alright?"
Erin: "..."
Me: "Hello??? Are you alright?"
Erin: "What? Yeah! I'm fine!"
Me: "..."
Erin: "..."

So then I was supposed to go to this Christmas Party with her, but she told me that day that I wasn't going, and that she wasn't mad at me, and that she felt like shit. I felt bad, because I knew what she was doing (thinking that she was doing me a favor by not making me go, even though I actually did want to go), and I knew that there was no way around it. I intended to call her the next day, but some shit went down with Heather, and frankly, I forgot about it. And now it's Wednesday, and I was going to call her before I did anything with Duffy, but she called me first and was pissed off that I hadn't called her. Then she either hang up on me or her phone died (her phone always dies) after I told her about the week.

I wonder if it's better to spread it out or concentrate. It's not quite the 99 vs 1 conundrum that I thought it was (100 sheep, 1 runs away, shepherd leaves the 99 to find the 1, etc etc). I'm okay with that problem, but I find this is distinctly different. This is more like I have 100 sheep on a mountain rim and 3 of them run away. Two of them run straight at a cliff that's still about a mile away, and the other one starts walking down a path into the dark valley below us. Now, do I stop the one that is easiest to stop and then hope that I still have enough time to catch up to the other two? Or do I take off after the other two knowing that it'll be hard, but ultimately possible, to eventually get the third? The choice seems obvious, but the obvious answer is not always the right one.

"But I can't do this all on my own
No, I know I'm no Superman
I'm no Superman"

Superman by Lazlo Bane

Reverie and Revulsion

Becca says that I'm smitten. I might be. I must be, in fact. Is it because this is the light on the horizon of a never-ending sea? Or is it because it is the lighthouse itself? I wonder if Duffy is the direction or the destination sometimes. She seems smit-worthy, I think. Groovy. She's an individual who apologizes without sincerity for who she is only because she doesn't want to fight about it. I think that's maybe more noble than acting like what you have to say deserves to be heard all the time. She's an escapist, finding herself immersed in fake places and consequently unaware of the very real places that inspired the fictions. Is she another Julee? Someone uninitiated and young letting me take them to the room in the hospital where they were born? I'm not a doctor, but I think I know the way. I don't want to do this forever. Have I been delivered?

“Reverie is when ideas float in our mind without reflection or regard of the understanding.”
-John Locke

"To lose one's self in reverie, one must be either very happy, or very unhappy. Reverie is the child of extremes.”
-Antoine Rivarol

Plan for the Night

Ashlee's on her way over right now. We are going to go eat sushi. It's been a while since I've had sushi, actually. I mean, not like years or months, even. Weeks. But I think that considering that I only started eating sushi about 6 weeks ago, going a few weeks without it is more or less momentous. It didn't change my life. I sort of expected it to. I enjoy it, but it's all tofurkey to me. I know that there is something I'm missing. There has to be. Sushi isn't just cucumber, avacado, carrot, asaparagus, rice, and seaweed. Great brutes with their wasabi and soy sauce. Teriyaki for amerikans, even. I think that there is some sweet fish somewhere. White flesh with no bones. I have a collection of fish bones that I'm looking to get rid of.

Julee's Birthday

It's Julee's 21st birthday. She invited me to dinner with her and her OPA girls, but I told her I didn't want to go. I got her the Nick Drake boxset and a Busdriver cd. We're still friends, and neither of those things has sentimental connection, so eat me.





"There's a new sensation
Sweeping all the nation
And they're calling it
Bare ballin it, bare ballin it"

Bare Ballin' by John Mayer

Always Love By Nada Surf

This one goes out to my girl, Ashlee:



To make a mountain of your life
Is just a choice
But I never learned enough
To listen to the voice that told me..
Always love… Hate will get you everytime
Always love… Don’t wait till the finish line

Slow demands come 'round
Squeeze the air and keep the rest out
It helps to write it down
Even when you then cross it out

But Always Love… Hate will get you every time
Always Love… Even when you want to fight

Self-directed lies
I want to know what it’d be like to
Aim so high above
any card that you've been dealt you...

Always Love… Hate will get you every time
Always Love… Hate will get you

I've been held back by something
Yeah. You said to me quietly on the stairs,
I've been held back by something
Yeah. You said to me quietly on the stairs.
You said…
Hey, you good ones.
Hey, you good ones.

To make a mountain of your life
Is just a choice
But I never learned enough
To listen to the voice that told me
Always love…hate will get you everytime
Always love…hate will get you…

I've been held back by something
Yeah, You said to me quietly on the stairs,
I've been held back by something
Yeah, You said to me quietly on the stairs
You said..
Hey, you good ones
Hey, you good ones
Hey, you good ones
I…



As do you, so do I. It is hard, maybe impossible. I have found that religion is inconsequential. God doesn't matter. These things are only words. If God is anything, it is a conceptualization; a cosmic embodiment of love. There is no hate but what we have created for ourselves, and all illness and sadness is borne of it. I used to feel alone in a cold universe, until I realized that love connected me with every aspect of that universe, and, in effect, with God itself. If I find myself asking "Does God exist?" I find that the question becomes "Do I exist?"