I'm the sound guy on the revered day.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
a girl
for brevity's sake, i'm the only one who will know who i am talking about so i will use her name. Emile. not her last name though cause that would be pretty uncourteous.
But i met her through an online dating website. we hung out a couple times. spent some intimate time together. and now she is on her way to different things. but she gave me one thing that most are afraid to give themselves, and that is honesty.
the time we spent together was short. and i wouldnt say she became overly fond of me. but to be fair, her plate is full with life and taking on a new person with baggage enough to fill the cargo hold of a 747 would be in abundance of ignorant ambition.
i see her every where i go, though. i think about her. i dream about her. i wouldnt say im in love with her. but then, i wouldnt say i have a complete understanding of what it is to be in love. she didnt meet what i had set as my standards for the type of girl i want.
but that is the exact reason she attracts me so much.
she is unapologetically fierce in expressing who she is and what she wants. at least she was with me. there were no eggs to be stepped on around her. her ambitions drove her to carry an ambivalence toward the things that had nothing to do with her goals. yet she let her natural impulses drive her day to day. she was real. and she was honest.
i wont go into detail about her personal life, or any real details about her other than what i shared. but she gave me what i have been wanting so badly. objective honesty. albeit, her opinionated personality could sometimes plow right over me. but in the end i knew it was honest. honest from her view.
i told her my story. the things i have done. suicide and everything. and instead of offering a tit to suckle on and swaddling me, she held out her hand and gave mine a firm shake. its weird to state it that way. but i think its metaphorically accurate.
due to life, she has asked me to cease and desist contact. of which feels similar to amnesia. i feel like i finally remembered something but forgot it again. and of course i dont want her to exit my life. but i dont think i am in a position to tell people how to live their own life when mine consists going from one stepping stone to the next. so i must abide. even though i want nothing but to be around her.
but in the short time i spent with her, she has influenced me greatly. i look up to her. i want more people like her to fall into my life, just as she did. and i want to be able to give people what she gave me.
its weird to think about relationships. you pick a person, and then you spend time with them. you could pick anybody in the world, but you end up picking the same type of people to surround yourself with. Emile wasnt the type of person i surround myself with. but she is exactly what i wanted. and although she doesnt want to continue the relationship we had, in the short time we got to know each other she made a honest impression on me. and a valid and verifiable change has taken place in my perspective of how i interact with people.
and i am taking what she gave to me. i guess, a life lesson about how to breath honesty in the same air where other people may be breathing courteousness or manners. im not saying im going to run around with my middle finger in the air.
im just saying that the honesty Emile gave me was freshening. although some what cold, it let me experience the brisk mental feeling of clarity of thought. like she respected me enough to tell me what she really thought instead of telling me what she thought i needed to hear.
and honestly, i miss her already.
But i met her through an online dating website. we hung out a couple times. spent some intimate time together. and now she is on her way to different things. but she gave me one thing that most are afraid to give themselves, and that is honesty.
the time we spent together was short. and i wouldnt say she became overly fond of me. but to be fair, her plate is full with life and taking on a new person with baggage enough to fill the cargo hold of a 747 would be in abundance of ignorant ambition.
i see her every where i go, though. i think about her. i dream about her. i wouldnt say im in love with her. but then, i wouldnt say i have a complete understanding of what it is to be in love. she didnt meet what i had set as my standards for the type of girl i want.
but that is the exact reason she attracts me so much.
she is unapologetically fierce in expressing who she is and what she wants. at least she was with me. there were no eggs to be stepped on around her. her ambitions drove her to carry an ambivalence toward the things that had nothing to do with her goals. yet she let her natural impulses drive her day to day. she was real. and she was honest.
i wont go into detail about her personal life, or any real details about her other than what i shared. but she gave me what i have been wanting so badly. objective honesty. albeit, her opinionated personality could sometimes plow right over me. but in the end i knew it was honest. honest from her view.
i told her my story. the things i have done. suicide and everything. and instead of offering a tit to suckle on and swaddling me, she held out her hand and gave mine a firm shake. its weird to state it that way. but i think its metaphorically accurate.
due to life, she has asked me to cease and desist contact. of which feels similar to amnesia. i feel like i finally remembered something but forgot it again. and of course i dont want her to exit my life. but i dont think i am in a position to tell people how to live their own life when mine consists going from one stepping stone to the next. so i must abide. even though i want nothing but to be around her.
but in the short time i spent with her, she has influenced me greatly. i look up to her. i want more people like her to fall into my life, just as she did. and i want to be able to give people what she gave me.
its weird to think about relationships. you pick a person, and then you spend time with them. you could pick anybody in the world, but you end up picking the same type of people to surround yourself with. Emile wasnt the type of person i surround myself with. but she is exactly what i wanted. and although she doesnt want to continue the relationship we had, in the short time we got to know each other she made a honest impression on me. and a valid and verifiable change has taken place in my perspective of how i interact with people.
and i am taking what she gave to me. i guess, a life lesson about how to breath honesty in the same air where other people may be breathing courteousness or manners. im not saying im going to run around with my middle finger in the air.
im just saying that the honesty Emile gave me was freshening. although some what cold, it let me experience the brisk mental feeling of clarity of thought. like she respected me enough to tell me what she really thought instead of telling me what she thought i needed to hear.
and honestly, i miss her already.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
expressively neutral
It has taken me some time, but i think it is past due. no more than a few months ago i attempted suicide through means of playing russian roulette. before the attempt, i had earned myself a DUII cause i had been drinking too much, for far too long, with far to little responsibility taken upon myself for such actions. although the two correlate in timing, reasoning for each differs. but given the timing and a small attention to detail, putting the blame on a DUII rather than loneliness made sense. It would give the people who cared something to blame, and the people who didn't care a valid excuse for their negligence.
it just made sense; to a person where causing one's own death has been a valid option.
but, obviously, i lost my perilous game of russian roulette (or what multiple therapists consider winning, but when given thought to the action of russian roulette and the comprehension that it is a game where there is one player with one objective, i certainly did lose). the amount of support that followed in wake of my self served death ticket expounded upon an already massive amount of guilt that added to the chronic depression i am now 'coping' with. not saying it is something i have no appreciation for. i am just saying im not quite sure the route in which to navigate to get to the feeling where appreciation is genuine.
more about the attempt later, right at this second it is past midnight. my brain seems to not want sleep. my body doesnt care, so i find myself clapping the letter keys of my laptop keyboard with the pads of my fingers in an attempt to put a mushy, undefined blob of thought into coherent, yet simple sentences. but dont let me run on and on.
things float into my thoughts, like an eye floater when starring at a clear, blue summer sky. i can feel the compression of focus toward one area of thought, but when i try to direct my full attention at that opaque sense of understanding it recedes past the parameters of my conscious. it is not quite rational for me to become frustrated by not being able to have thoughts i haven't fully thought yet, but i am. in a quiet way.
but there is a constant in every concept i happen to conceive in my maliciously passive brain. a choosing of sides, of sorts. actually more of a lack of choosing sides.
human beings are funny; they(or i guess we) are the only animal to cognitively process and produce humor. therefore, humans are funny. but whats funny is the fact that most humor is a layer of contemplation about the things that hurt, or discomfort. a way of processing the things in which direct contact would paralyze. not to say its a mask or coping method, which it can be, but it is a step in processing experience. it is, so to say, in everything.
so cliche.
but, directing myself to a point of interest for this blog, humor is the invisible line where maturity and immaturity, sincerity and insincerity — or possibly — comfort and discomfort meet. i live on this line, because i have no understanding of it. well, i mean yes, i cognitively can apply the definition to application of the word in a sentence and know the social expectations of when is too much and when is too little. but where i fall lacking of knowledge, given the topic of humor, is why it creates tension when i cross said lines. in every circumstance, without fail, a certain amount of tension follows when i make a distasteful joke. and the same amount of tension, on the opposite side of what it feels like to be uncomfortable, follows when i take something too serious comparatively to those who surround me. i dont understand this dynamic. this possession of thought people call 'taking it to far.'
for me, when i apply the social standards of anger or joy to humor, i end up crossing the line. this makes humor special. creating an obsolete standard where every other emotion is concerned. creating a psychotic obsession of not necessarily being funny, but finding everyones so to speak 'humor comfort zone,' where that invisible line is never crossed. when i find this line of good and tasteful humor, which happens to be individual for every person, i feel in a small way connected to them, through understanding about them, by what it is they take seriously and what it is they can laugh at.
maybe that's why, when talking to someone with a 'mental illness,' they dont match the level of volume you laugh at. or they continue laughing for too long. or they carry on a joke for what seems like hours.
or maybe, given humor is generally accepted as creating a welcoming atmosphere, there needs to be a redefinition of whats funny so when people who may not have such an acute sense of humor let loose a barrage of slangs, filled with puns, wrapped up in a knock knock joke, for what most definitely is 30 minutes too long, the people around them will understand, 'oh, he has an obtuse sense of humor,' and every one can laugh and go on their merry way.
or maybe i am just taking this too far.
it just made sense; to a person where causing one's own death has been a valid option.
but, obviously, i lost my perilous game of russian roulette (or what multiple therapists consider winning, but when given thought to the action of russian roulette and the comprehension that it is a game where there is one player with one objective, i certainly did lose). the amount of support that followed in wake of my self served death ticket expounded upon an already massive amount of guilt that added to the chronic depression i am now 'coping' with. not saying it is something i have no appreciation for. i am just saying im not quite sure the route in which to navigate to get to the feeling where appreciation is genuine.
more about the attempt later, right at this second it is past midnight. my brain seems to not want sleep. my body doesnt care, so i find myself clapping the letter keys of my laptop keyboard with the pads of my fingers in an attempt to put a mushy, undefined blob of thought into coherent, yet simple sentences. but dont let me run on and on.
things float into my thoughts, like an eye floater when starring at a clear, blue summer sky. i can feel the compression of focus toward one area of thought, but when i try to direct my full attention at that opaque sense of understanding it recedes past the parameters of my conscious. it is not quite rational for me to become frustrated by not being able to have thoughts i haven't fully thought yet, but i am. in a quiet way.
but there is a constant in every concept i happen to conceive in my maliciously passive brain. a choosing of sides, of sorts. actually more of a lack of choosing sides.
human beings are funny; they(or i guess we) are the only animal to cognitively process and produce humor. therefore, humans are funny. but whats funny is the fact that most humor is a layer of contemplation about the things that hurt, or discomfort. a way of processing the things in which direct contact would paralyze. not to say its a mask or coping method, which it can be, but it is a step in processing experience. it is, so to say, in everything.
so cliche.
but, directing myself to a point of interest for this blog, humor is the invisible line where maturity and immaturity, sincerity and insincerity — or possibly — comfort and discomfort meet. i live on this line, because i have no understanding of it. well, i mean yes, i cognitively can apply the definition to application of the word in a sentence and know the social expectations of when is too much and when is too little. but where i fall lacking of knowledge, given the topic of humor, is why it creates tension when i cross said lines. in every circumstance, without fail, a certain amount of tension follows when i make a distasteful joke. and the same amount of tension, on the opposite side of what it feels like to be uncomfortable, follows when i take something too serious comparatively to those who surround me. i dont understand this dynamic. this possession of thought people call 'taking it to far.'
for me, when i apply the social standards of anger or joy to humor, i end up crossing the line. this makes humor special. creating an obsolete standard where every other emotion is concerned. creating a psychotic obsession of not necessarily being funny, but finding everyones so to speak 'humor comfort zone,' where that invisible line is never crossed. when i find this line of good and tasteful humor, which happens to be individual for every person, i feel in a small way connected to them, through understanding about them, by what it is they take seriously and what it is they can laugh at.
maybe that's why, when talking to someone with a 'mental illness,' they dont match the level of volume you laugh at. or they continue laughing for too long. or they carry on a joke for what seems like hours.
or maybe, given humor is generally accepted as creating a welcoming atmosphere, there needs to be a redefinition of whats funny so when people who may not have such an acute sense of humor let loose a barrage of slangs, filled with puns, wrapped up in a knock knock joke, for what most definitely is 30 minutes too long, the people around them will understand, 'oh, he has an obtuse sense of humor,' and every one can laugh and go on their merry way.
or maybe i am just taking this too far.
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