Reaching out

I've been journaling about this a lot, and texting my sister some, but I really want to talk to somebody. I'm working up to it, cycling though a list of friends that won't be put in a weird spot to hear me.

S and I had a short talk the other night about breaking up. Before that, I'd been talking about it  with him periodically over the past couple months, kind of as an abstract idea, because I feel like we've been falling apart and for a while I've been growing more numb to him, seeing him less and less like a boyfriend or an intimate.

But the other night, the "maybe we should break up" came from him.

I think I'd been waiting for that, since I was too afraid to make that abstract tangible on my own. I wanted to talk about everything instead, talk about what I thought might be the cause in my change in feelings, about what was going on, but I didn't cross over into making it tangible.


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I think I want to feel justified and like I'm doing the right thing. The hardest thing is that I know I could end this now, I could ask to not break up and we wouldn't. But the problems would still be there. It would only be a temporary bandage.

On Trust and Good Conversation

I don't trust people.  I don't let them in because I feel it wouldn't work.  I deeply fear being misunderstood yet it's what happens regardless.  The rest is understandings of only a part of me.

Part of it is that I don't think many are primed to listen.  It takes a while to chip away at someone so that I can learn how to speak to them and be able to guess what they understand.  Despite speaking relatively anonymously on blogs, what I really want is someone receptive.

Last night someone tried to convince me that no one like that exists and that if I don't change my hopes, I will just be miserable all my life. 

I feel the need to treat everyone differently, based on what I see of their personality.  Some of me comes through, but it's through a personalized filter so everyone knows a different me.  Maybe that's why a lot of people think I'm cool--I pick up on bits of them that many overlook.  But what that does is make me feel fragmented and alone.

Sometimes when I do try to fill in the cracks, I end up doing it with someone unwilling to listen or who just doesn't care about all those extra parts.  People can be very picky especially in the world of customizable experiences we have.  So should I say "fuck them" or continue with what I can get?

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The top part is from a couple of months ago, back in CA.  I'm having some similar feelings now.   Right now I've got a big, swelling wish.  I want to use the word urge, but it doesn't quite fit here.  I really want someone I can dump on.  I want to have a giant Conversation (not one-sided blog post) where I can get some feedback on what's going on in my head and life and maybe even some insight.  But I locked people out for a long time, so there's a lot of context that people don't know about.  It's hard to analyze the data I'm giving people since they don't have the foundation built since I've been so fucking quiet and misleading for so long.

I can't rely on S and for most of the friends I'm close with, I'm the ear and that's hard to change once people get used to it.  I have some newer relationships growing, but I don't want to be super intense and wigged out right from the get-go.  I want someone who will listen to me start to rant, help me when I stumble, not wig out if I cry, and maybe give me a hug.

But...

But.

An End

S and I broke up a few days ago.  We've been rocky since just before we left for Costa Rica and I think this has been building up since then--we were only incapable of doing anything about it because we were too reliant on each other.

In Costa Rica, we tried to make a life.  The goal was to get established and actually live there.  I should have recognized sooner how much this was S's goal more than mine.  After the rich mental stimulation of Berlin, I couldn't handle the palace-purgatory of physicality that is Costa Rica.  California had it's good, but we had trouble getting our footing.  Every endeavor was an uphill battle and it's very hard feeling good about life while living with a loud pessimist.

We left California on August 31st and were in Louisiana until a couple of days ago--Sunday.  Sunday night we arrived, and Monday, S broke up with me.  I know it's real this time because he's the one who did it; he sees my point of view.

At the moment, we're staying at S's parents, trying to figure out our own next steps--looking for jobs and places to live.  We don't know how much we should rely on old plans.  Though we're being civil, I think we need space.  Both of us keep wanting to be affectionate or angry as the moments dictate, but it's not for us to do that to/with each other any more.

Figuring out what to say has been an interesting challenge.  And how to say, too.  If things don't go well, that puts me on rocky footing w/r/t where I'll sleep at night, and if things go well, it hurts because I just want to touch him.

I've never had a breakup that wasn't explosive, so I don't know what to expect.  I'm sad, scared, and happy, all coming in waves.  I hope things work out for both of us.

It's the final countdown

So I'm out of this place in just about a month and ten days.

Which happens.

But what makes it feel weird this time is two things.  I feel like I'm really starting over--I'm getting rid of my personal ties and nearly all of my physical posessions.  The other part is how much people know about it.  I've tended to sneak away when I move, but I advertised it this time.

People are a bit frantic with the eminent deadline--no more me time.  And I guess the attention is kind of nice but it's also very overwhelming.  I hardly have time to prepare myself or even to spend a moment alone.  As much as I crave being with people I like, I need moments to myself.

It feels like my life is divided into time slots dictated by social and financial obligations.  I work 40 hours a week and I have to squeeze people into my allocated free time.  Part of my frustration might be due to my schedule--it is pretty unnatural.  I work nights--meaning I'm taken from 1.30 to 10 most of the time. Most of the time, it feels like.  And I stay up late to make it feel like I have a life.  And it works sometimes.  But sometimes I'm just tired all of the time and feel utterly oppressed.

I was in Louisiana about a week ago, which was nice and horrible in it's own way, and my schedule changed.  My schedule shifted to earlier and I felt better.  It might have ust been the free time though.

Man, I don't have focus.

I just feel trapped by money.  That's the real issue.  Because if I had enough, I would have time and that's all I really want in the world.


And the starting over part is scary because I have no idea what I'm getting into and I'm worried about running out of money before things get good.  Hah, money.

What's frustrating is that I can't help but feel like it's my fault. I'm in charge of my life--good and bad--so if shit goes wrong, there's no one else to blame.  There's no one else to talk to either because no one else is involved.


So I'm leaving again soon.  I'm saying goodbyes and enjoying people while I can.  I can probably handle being a little sleepy.  And as for the future, all I can do is what I can.

Delusions of grandeur

Is it that I want immortality?

I've always wanted to be in one of those circle of thinkers, creators, even just smart people who create the waves that shape the world; the group of artists from whom stem all the revolutionary ideas of a generation. A group where discussions matter on a large scale--they change the whole world--they make the ideas that penetrate every mind on the planet and determine the flow of history.

Fuck Baudelaire

OK, two things:

I apparently know some crazy ass people and drugs seem like a crazy amazing adventure.

I've always wanted to explore. Explore everything. Every kind of everything.

A friend of mine just told me about speed balls and when he was living his crazy, horrible, ghetto ass, fucked up, amazingly interesting life he could do two of those in a row.

And oh my god he will testify to what kind of shitty life he was living at the time, but I don't know what that's like and I want to.

The derelict and impoverished (both financially and every other sort of way) side of life have some horrible beautiful appeal.  It is another frontier I have yet to cross.

A Bitching Article

As I start to type this post, I realize the possible misunderstanding that could arise from the title.  "A Bitching Article" or perhaps "A Bitchin' Article" could mean something that is so good, only expletives can adequately describe it.  Or it can mean "an article in which someone bitches."  Unfortunately, given my currrent state of existence, that's the one here.

I've been living with Mooch for about three months now and it's finally hit the breaking point.  He is gone by tomorrow night, thank god.  So, in a way, problems are solved (except financial ones, of course), but in a way they aren't.  The real problem is that it seems as though no one is reliable.  No one is capable of taking care of themselves. 

I will give you some back story to justify my mean attitude.

Three months ago, Mooch broke up with his girlfriend.  Devistated and desperate, whithout anywhere to go, Roommate, Ex, and I decided to let him sleep on our couch when he wasn't sleeping in his car.  Shortly thereafter, he lost his job due to failing to set his alarm clock and having accrued a goodly amount of tardy arrivals.  Note, this was his fault.  We continued to let him stay here, without pay, and even fed him.  Things got better for him within a week or so; he got two jobs and was feeling better about his girlfriend.  Despite this upturn in his life, he did not offer to buy food nor pay rent.

After a month, when Ex moved out, Mooch got his own room and started being responsable for a share of the bills.  Note I said "being responsable" not "paying."  That is part of where the current problem lies.  The two jobs gave him substantial funds with which to pay his first month's dues, but now that January is coming to a close, he is no longer capable.

His two jobs were at Papa John's (not very good; minimum wage and few hours) and a seasonal gig at UPS (great hours and pay, but again, only seasonal).  He knew it wouldn't last, yet he did nothing to ensure his ability to pay his share once the time had come.  He knew this was coming, but his laziness and selfishness prevented him from doing anything to stop this.  Should you find Mooch on the street and ask him about this, he would tell you that Roommate and I were well aware of the situation.  But the sitiation he is refering to, in fact, is that he was planning on leaving mid-Feburary.  Which has nothing to do with one's abilities to pay January's rent. 

Not only does he lack money due to the loss of his good job, but he is also constantly here.  I was out of town for Christmas and New Years, and since I have been back, I have only been in the apartment without him for 5 hours.  He is constantly present and makes his presence known.  And when Roommate and I choose not to keep his company, he sulks.  Even going so far as to cry loudly on the balcony outside of our room.  He is pathetic and will never do anything for himself.

At this point, all he has done to suppliment his income is ask me and Roommate to try to sell his Magic cards.  Here we are approaching a key part of the problem.  See, he is not just inept because that's how he is--there is more to it.  He is stunted.  He is a tall child.  Without help, he cannot manage to feed himself, to provide himself shelter, to get to work on time, to do anything by himself, or to even wipe his own ass.  I cannot tell you how many times he has stolen toilet paper from me for I have lost count. 

I feel like an idiot for putting up with it for so long, and even now he is doing laundry with water and soap he will not pay for.  He only started because I stepped out to go to the apartment office.  Tonight is his last night here and I will relish the moment of relief when I can be alone before the necessity of finding another roommate becomes pressing enough to ruin my contentment. 

This is what I get for trusing other people to be able to take care of themselves. 

An Awkward Spot

That last post was kind of old, actually pretty old.  It was from this summer when I kind of feel like I had a sort of breakdown.  Thinking about it now, I've been leading myself up to it, so it wasn't actually a very big surprise.

I didn't feel like I could read people anymore because I'd slowly but surely been isolating myself from everyone.  All conversations became superficial and I stopped being able to find anything to talk to anyone about.  I felt like I could manage my feelings on my own and didn't (feel the need to / want to / trust anyone enough to) talk about anything that was really on my mind.  I think a lot of people feel that way, though.  (Saying things like that helps me belittle the idea of feelings, which makes it easier to remain a closed shell.)

I had a boyfriend for several years.  And then I broke up with him.  It wasn't as sudden as my syntax implies, though.  I'd been thinking about it for a year or two but felt unable to do anything about it.  I actually tried, once, to break it off.  But we weren't able to move and so I was stuck living with him.  He asked me to get back together and I said yes for convenience.  My plan was to get him a new roommate and then leave the situation, but things didn't work out. 

I ended up breaking up with him then later slept with a mutual friend, our roommate.  Understandibly, that caused a whole mess of drama. 

After the break-up, my ex decided to confess that he had been suicidal and depressed for months and that our roommate and I were the best people to handle the situation, to make him feel better, and banish those terrible thoughts from his head.  We did what we thought would help, but we were ignorant of the right solutions, being mere people.  It was a stressful and unpleasant situation for everybody, and lead to lots of isolation for everyone.  I know that I felt like I couldn't tell anyone about it, without incurring worry and meddlesome other people who were equally ill-equipped to deal with the situation.  So I tried to deal with it.  Roommate and I found comfort in each other.  Many nights, Ex would fall asleep on the couch early and Rommate and I would talk.  Often times late into the night. 

One of these nights, we happened upon a bottle of whisky and ended up fucking on the balcony.

That did not sit well with Ex.

(This post has become something entirely different than what I had imagined.)

During a horrible night, and after much coaxing, Ex broke Roommate's jaw. 

What followed was a combination of guilt, anger, confusion, and sexual frustration.  I had been attracted to Roommate for a while due to his personality and life-experience, but had never let on or done anything about it until that night.  And based on everything I knew about him, I wasn't expecting anything more than sex from him, but much more has evolved since then.  Despite that, we still cling to the idea of being in an open relationship.  (Funnily enough, I'm the only one who has actively done anything to uphold this title.)  I'm starting to skip parts of history to get to what's really on my mind. 

We announced to each other our desire to be in a relationship on Halloween and began to end some of the awkwardness in dealing with encroaching feelings.  But like I said, it's an open relationship.  This is my first time doing anything like this and I don't know all the rules, but I have started to notice some issues.  None of the other people I've gotten involved with want to leave it at just sex.  People have a habit of falling for me.  And I don't know how to deal with it.

So right now I'm in a relationship that was never supposed to be, but which has turned out to be quite nice.  I actually really enjoy it.  There's no such thing as perfect, but most of the time I'm having fun.  But on the other hand there is a guy from work who seems to want to be there for me in all the ways I doubt about Roommate--it's hard to believe in the emotional side of a sex-based relationship, despite when he tries to comfort me. 

I'm being rushed to leave and end my rant.  Goodnight

Shut up ho, you got too much self-confidence

I feel like people a lot of times don't have enough doubt.  That they're too adamant about what they think they know, and with a little, well-measured self doubt, many misunderstandings and arguments wouldn't happen.  I'd also think of fewer people as complete dumbasses. 

Insisting on something that is wrong is infuriating for those who know.  Especially since those who are pushing their misconceptions usually aren't open to being corrected.  I guess all of this stems back to ignorance.  Nobody wants to be ignorant, which is kind of understandable.  But instead of recognizing and doing something about it, many tend to pick an idea and run with it, defending it until the end, even when they don't even know why they think it in the first place.

I'm a person who likes to argue/debate.  But this is something that makes it incredibly difficult.  There can be no debate, no moving forward, if nobody recognizes that they might not know everything.  Within my circle of people I know, I think this is related to the anti-intellectual trend around here.  Some try very hard to prove that they don't have to care about learning to be a smart-ass, while others are so devoted to the idea that school is necessary that they feel like they can't be defeated in any sort of debate, ever.  Both sides are wrong, but neither is able to compromise. 

The more you learn, the more you come to realize that you don't know hardly anything.  I've really come to see that this semester as I've been branching out, particularly in government.  But this is something people refuse to accept.  Everyone is an expert of their own perception, and then they impose that on the rest of us.

Misanthropic me

Sometimes I hate everything.  And sometimes I'm completely neutral or aloof.  I hardly ever feel up to social networking myself into friendships but then it bothers me that I don't know more people.  It'd be easier if I didn't care at all, if I really could just abandon everyone and be content with just me. 

Actually, that's not what I want.  What I want is Great friends.  Friends I feel connected to and who I can leave for a while then come back to.

Having moved around and living with the urge to be a nomad, I'm always torn and struggling with the idea of constantly leaving the people I get to know (or don't).  I want to travel, to go everywhere, but I can't bring everyone with me.  That's what makes Great friends so awesome.  When I go back to the few people I really feel connected to it's great.  There's no awkwardness and though things change, not the friendship itself.