Want to thank Caitlin, Yukeh and Amanda for being around when I was really at one of my low points, at this very inconvenient time at night. Also to Dad for giving me a big ol' father and son talk via Skype. The last post was much more of a verbal brick to the face than it was an actual reflection of my present situation, though some of it rang true in areas where I wasn't digging chunks out of myself.

At any rate, I'm going to bed, and hopefully I'll feel better in the morning - even if I only get six hours sleep.

G'night!

For all my intelligence, for all my sophistication, for all that I can snark and spout and pretend I know it all, my emotions are still as developed as a child's. It can be led on, it can be foolish, it can want things so much that they try to bend reality in order to make it so - a delusion that is doomed to be unfulfilled.

And thus it becomes like a broken record for me, always desiring and never getting, fit only to damper my disappointment with hopeful promises and romance through a glass box. Frustration sets in, and eventually cynicism callouses over my sentimentality, bitterness staining my heart. I pretend that I'm over it, that I've moved on, and I don't think about what I used to be like in comparison to what I am now. For all of my advances, for all of my hard work, for all that I've grown and developed and learned to be social and learned to hold down a job, I'm still the boy in white holding a flower, looking to the clear blue sky and about to fall into an alligator pit. Or perhaps I'm past the alligators, and I'm all chewed up, and I'm still looking to the blue sky like the doomed child I am.

( Cut for further self-loathing. )

God, I wish I could talk to someone right now.

All it takes is a single night to reduce a content disposition to misery.

It rained all throughout, the sleeping bag was too small for me so I couldn't get my entire body warm, I was coming down with a cold, I never fully fell asleep (woke up intermittently around 3:00 and 5:20 AM) the clean spoons and the bowls have all disappeared (a whole whack of them in the dirty utensils tray and scattered around the kitchen) and my dear boss got on my case for not doing the recycling last night. (Never mind that I barely soldiered on with the washrooms and the cleaning and the mats and everything. Gah.)

And it looks like I forgot to put away the left-over rice last night. Fffffffff.

And now I have to play a lead role in a film. Ordinarily I'd enjoy this sort of role, but right now I just want to crawl somewhere warm and hide. Preferably with a bowl of cereal.

It started out okay in the day - we celebrated a friend's birthday and my big sister came over as a surprise visit, but after that it just turned awful. And it's going to be this big group and one more like it next week before I get any extra intern help.

This is the worst morning I've ever woken up to.

I'm in my tent. Got an entire hour to myself. Me and the computer, and the wind.It's glorious.

I just want to curl up in my tent and sleep for as long as possible.

Slowly. Slowly. Ever so slowly, at least in teenager time, which ironically is rather sped up in relation to normal people time. But slowly, I am finding my way.

A botched attempt at a summer fling has brought me to contemplation, days later, after successfully navigating the twisted canyon trail of unwarranted guilt and embarrassment - following it at last, to wisdom. Presently, the center of these musings occupies itself within the way I seek romantic affection, and the sources I derive it from.

I was questioned about what I'd like to see in a future relationship; what I might value in a woman whom I might harbor feelings for. About a year ago, I had it all in my head, what I'd want her to be like: Funny. Intelligent. Pretty. Sense of humor. Gradually, it broadened, and then as I courted online dating sites and found no such luck, it shortened, gradually growing smaller until the only requirement became, "Just answer my e-mails, for God's sake, give me an answer!"

And then for the most part I've abandoned that tactic. Used it to find more interesting people than potential date partners. Helps that I find it more comfortable to make friendships with women than I do with men. There's a certain disconnect I find with some guys where I run out of ways to communicate or relate. Or I set up some kind of unconscious distance between them and find ways of talking my way out of conversing with them.

I've made good friends here, though. Still trying to find ways of not distancing myself between people. Mostly I'm just the crazy guy who uses people as an audience, and that's entertaining, but not always fulfilling. But I'm learning to differentiate, meet people I like, that I can relate to. Doesn't always work, but I'm learning about trial and error.

I'm learning about a lot of different things lately.

Right now I'm fulfilled. There's a girl I can think about, entertain romantic notions over, which always makes me feel a little more complete inside, even if I can never act on said thoughts. There's a place here that I feel I belong to, and even if it's hard work, even if there's days where I'm going, "ohgodIcantdothisIdontwanttodothisugh" in my head, it passes. And I get work done. And I suppose I end up a bit sleep deprived at the end of it, but it all balances out.

I just glanced over what I wrote right now, and it made me think of what Mr. Rogers tried to teach me about writing essays. On my blog here, I don't write articles so much as I meander through with language, trailblazing my own thought patterns and digging it up for the whole world to see. There's no central subject title I keep doubling back on, no reference point from start to finish. No wonder I dislike editing or proofreading these entries; what sort of structure could you impose on this sort of stuff?

At any rate, it's late, and I have to wake up in six hours. Bell will be ringing. Time to sleep.

I'm in a good place. We'll see how I am in seven weeks.

Wednesday's fast approaching. So far my working at GIFTS has been awesome. Hoping it stays that way.

Helps a lot that I'm rather in the middle of an online summer fling right now. Quite amazing how long distance relationships can perk up an individual when there's no alternative besides painful, prolonged loneliness!

Anyway, said online individual is giving me a lot of joy right now, which helps immensely.

My week is going off without a hitch. Good night!

Mmmmmmgh.

Have an idea for an entry but I spoiled it by ranting about the contents to friends. Will collect my thoughts hopefully tomorrow. Got a lot to write about. Right now I'm falling asleep.

Second last night in this house. Days are counting down. Time is running out. Memories are falling away. Sleep troubles abound, and I'm feeling more than a little melancholy.

The fact that this dog is possibly one of the most flatulent puppies I've ever had the displeasure of associating myself with doesn't really help the situation either. I'm going to miss her though, regardless.

G'night.

Well, this fucking sucks.

Awesome block party happening downtown and I can't find my fucking passport. And I don't have any other picture idea because I keep putting off getting any other sort of identification.

In fact, the entire bag I kept my passport in is missing. Can't find it anywhere in the house.

How the fuck does this keep happening?! ARGH.

This isn't my normal journal post, but it's important for anyone who's not paying attention to the news (you know, like me):

Looks like there's a lot of terrible crap going on in Iran. I don't usually get political, but I felt the need to repost this, because this looks like it's going to be a real important thing to pay attention to.

Amazing how the internet is factoring into this country's political revolution.

( Read more... )

I remember when I used to be a romantic.

Those words roused me out of my attempt to sleep, and I felt the need to record them. Because like the hole, I have discovered also that my aching desire for love has left me almost completely desolate of that feeling. Or perhaps it is hidden, reviving somewhere in some closed part of me. I have allowed all my energy to pour out, wanting that desire so bad, feeling youthful aches all throughout my body. Sometimes I think - sometimes I thought, of nothing else.

I have been, as of late, meditating on my addictions. My brain is fed with information, hooked through an invisible wire from my eyes to this screen. With barely a thought, my fingers flick, instinctually, across the keyboard, and once again the loading screen, briefly a white blank page, and then I am plugged in once more.

It is an easy one to fall back into, and it is rewarding, in its own way. A blissful, happy place that I can travel to where the noise can't get to me. I don't think of friends, or relatives, barely anything except to make sure my mother knows I love her, to spend time with her, make sure there's that one moment where I'm not totally strung out in computer land. I barely think that there is less than two weeks before I go back to work. I think not at all that September awaits, moody and mysterious.

I don't think about how there'll be people this morning, looking at our house, perhaps desiring it to be their own. Perhaps willing to pay money for it.

( So. Continuing. )

My vision is swimming now. I hear the clicking of the keys and the hum of my computer. I think the words in my mind and then I am looking at them.

I think it's time to go to bed. To sleep.

Good night.

Status update:

All is well. I am being a lazy bum.

Actual post will commence sometime tomorrow I hope.

Fuck. I tried so hard to be good today.

It's Mom's birthday, right? So I was trying to be as nice to her as possible. I'd gotten her an awesome present, I went on a walk around the beach with her and the dog... but the thing you have to know about me is that around her, my bad habits come out. My fuse is shortened, and when I get really upset or irritated, I raise my voice, which in turn gets her really upset, more than me, and that always makes me feel like an asshole - because, well, I'm acting like a huge asshole.

( Rant goes here. )

Sigh. Signing off.

Got my speakers to work with my TV. Freaking awesome. They are very, very loud things. :D

And, I fail at measurements. It wasn't a 16 inch tv... it was 32 inch. Holy cripes.

Going to possibly see Star Trek tomorrow. Hear it's great, even if you're not a fan of the series at all.

Dad, Jane, if you get this message before I leave to spend lunch with my mates, would like to talk to you about something! I'll see if I can Skype you.

I've turned twenty-one. How do I feel?

Mixed, to say the least. Just been to a chiropractor and got the shit kicked out of my lower back. Going back to him for another appointment, which I think will help all the pain down there. Also got a brand-spanking sixteen inch television screen, courtesy of my Mom as a birthday present, as well as a cheque in the mail from my aunt and uncle... although I haven't decided what I am going to spend it on, I'm pretty sure it will be something suitably awesome.

But beyond such superficial thoughts as material gain, I think back to what twenty-one meant for me in the past... and what it means now. And I think now that I've reached this point in time, I've gotten over the angst. Twenty-one, I'm thinking, should be the part of my great chronicle in which I get my shit together. Not really much of a choice there in some cases, considering Mom's going to sell the house... but I want to take charge in other ways, too. My fucked up lower back is a good wake-up call to get back into exercising, and my recent scare in regards to stories of diabetes is encouraging me to cut my sugar addiction.

As for computer addiction? Not nearly as much of a problem as it used to be. I just need to supplant it with something else, like physical activity or reading or something else, and I'm fine. I don't have nearly as much of an emotional attachment to it as I used to, and for that I'm glad.

Guess this is how it's supposed to feel, to mature.

And you know, I was terrified of being a virgin at twenty-one. But whatever; I can accept that on a social basis, I evolve more slowly than others, and that also extends to romantic dalliances. And my recent encounter in my last night at GIFTS was more than enough reward in that regard. It also brought me a bit of an epiphany... the world will NEVER stop being an unknowable, strange place, even in adulthood. Unless your feet are firmly planted on the earth and you've come to accept your limitations (Socrates quote, "I know nothing except the fact of my own existence," comes to mind here), you're still going to be baffled by an increasingly unknowable existence, no matter WHAT age you're at. It's comforting, in a way... as long as I establish that equilibrium, there isn't any real 'catching up' to do with other so-called adults. I just have to get by.

I'm thinking that I may end up quitting Livejournal. There are a number of reasons for that, but I think it's time to move onto another blogging site. I'll still do a good deal of my online RP on various comms here, but the personal thoughts shall be on another site entirely. Dreamwidth seems like a rather tempting offer, at the present moment.

At any rate. I think it's time for me to head to bed.

See you all when I wake up.

Had a great night last night. Best way of celebrating five weeks of working here.

Will talk more about it later. Gonna catch a ride on a boat now. Be back on later!

Requesting cooking recipes for precocious and persistently annoying nine year olds right now.

If they don't leave today, I am frightened that I will do something dreadful to them.

Number 7th reason why I dislike living on Galiano:
-Meeting a girl who recognizes me, and not only failing to remember, but mis-remembering her name, parents, siblings, and pretty much everything about her, leading to a very, very awkward silence while I turn to finish up my lunch.

Requesting a hole I can crawl into and die right now. :(

There is a wound in my heart that I have filled with granite.

I see it now. The surface is gravelly and hard, like the concrete surfaces of the playground around my old primary school. I've skinned my knees on that ground many a time; I still remember being in the medical room, seeing bits of rock inside the cuts, the red blood from my wounds mixing with dirt. It wasn't just me in that room; lots of kids skinned their knees, running around on that unforgiving terrain.

I feel that hardness every time I look upon another child, every time I look into myself. Sometimes I can talk through it, try and get some empathy sifting through the gravel to the little voice inside of me, but it is hard - and painful - to dig those emotions out. Better to stay hard and brittle, a dark voice whispers in me, rather than face the fear and vulnerability that comes with leaving it open. Better to close it than to confront the possibility that it might never be healed.

And only now do I truly become aware of it: A tautness around my arteries, something squeezing my heart until I am writhing with discomfort. A feeling that leaves me suffocated, breathing hard and weeping and straining within myself to get free of the oppression, a thunder cloud pressing against my innards. And all the while, my heart struggles against the wound that I have filled with stoic bitterness, no longer wishing the hurt to be hidden.

In this wellspring of peace and creativity, of hard work and quiet nights, I am trying so very hard to recover. To lay to rest all the demons of doubt, purging them from my body and sending them on their way. Allowing my tower of penance to be shattered, that one of redemption may be erected in its place... a tower in which healing, and learning, may also be conducted.

May the angels that look to me, then, lift me from despair. I have felt their presence in my heart today, and with their encouragement I begin to push out the rock that has scabbed over my emotional aches. May I begin again, better than before. May my heart expand so that my sorrows be purged, and from that, extend my compassion across land and sea.

May others, someday, feel the same as me.

I don't know if I can do another week.

Tim's right... I do need at least a day's break.

Should be in bed by now.

Mom, if you read this, you shouldn't come on Saturday. Group will still be here... but then again, might be that it could be a good day off or something.

I don't know. I'm really tired.