As I sit here crying because I’ve just rewatched my favorite film “Cloud Atlas”, I am reminded of change and dreams.
For a long while now, maybe a year, I’ve been in a slump. I’ve been thinking over and over about how my life is a “drop of water in an endless sea”. Pondering over how tiny I am, how mortality is so finite how could any of us bare the idea of immortality? How I will die inevitably and everything in our waking world is a distraction away from this death, it’s a monolithic movement toward a fake idea of eternal life. It doesn’t come from the Christians, although they now propagate this idea, and it was before the Greeks, before the Babylonians (pre-Judaism), and it was before writing. Humans lie. We lie to ourselves about our fate.We try to block it out, pretend death isn’t lurking under every rock, waiting to trip us up and break us, we shout “DANGER” so quietly.
I’m trying to be honest to myself. Telling myself of my death, that whatever I do, I will die. I’ve been giving up hope, I’ve let all my dreams go. In my depression and in my turmoil I have said “It’s impossible, I’m 1 and 8 billion+ and I am nothing.” I am nothing because I choose to be, but not because I am.
In Cloud Atlas Sonmi said “Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”(David Mitchell, author). When she said this, she is staring at a room full of fighting. Everything knows death is inevitable but they are fighting for a better life. Dying for a better life for the other.
My eternal best friend Savannah said to me: “You aren’t great because you are great, but because I say you are great so you have to be, because I want you to be.” Now this sounds very backwards, but I knew exactly what she meant. She meant that even though I don’t think I’m great, or have purpose, or meaning, I am great because she knows so. Then she said “You may think you don’t have a purpose, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give yourself one. Make one up!!”
A few hours later a woman came out of an Irish bar on to the sidewalk where Savannah and I were standing, I gave her a light and she said to me “I want to be your mothah!” and then “Go do something amazing, change the world.”
More than all the religious and socio-political philosophical truths, I know that humans are only human with other humans. And we can only change when we step into the view of the other. The moment we see the point of view of someone unlike ourselves who is apart from us can we begin to understand we aren’t so different. The only way we can learn or affect the world is by changing ourselves.
I heard once that you don’t have to change the whole world to be marvelous, you only have to change one tiny world of someone else’s to make an impact. I hope to change a few, even if those worlds are just my immediate friends and family, I can be ok with that.
I won’t give up though, I’m revisiting my dreams of being a writer, a musician, an archaeology, a teacher, a lifelong learner. I am finding another path and I don’t walk alone, but I am connected with those I find, everyone’s whose path touches mine.
Those who are great most of the time never knew they were. They died, maybe for a cause to fight for the other and are remembered as great because they changed one tiny world, that created a wave to affect many. They weren’t great because they thought they were great, they are great we because we think they are. We think. Present active Indicative plural. We are plurality and individuality and we are being.
05/30(or the 31 since you are in Japan right now.)/2016
How we met: well it wasn’t quite meeting at first, really. You stared at me (checked me out) from two rows back on the other side of the class room of our Econ 111 class in Xavier room 150. I knew your name and who you were, and I ran into you often with The-Girl-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She was something else (and a whole other story) and you and she seemed to be best friends from my point of you. Until I began to pester you.
I thought you were (OMG kill me now for saying this) the cutest kid I had ever seen in my life, and I was down for the chase.
I made a mistake first hand though by the telling your “Best friend” what I thought of you. She had a bit of a fit and she said: “You got, Tomas, and Kiya, you can’t can’t canttttt by any means have him.” And I told her I would respect her wishes, but there was a big piece of me that said: “ignore her” which of course made my reply to her be: “Oh, of course, he is your best friend, I would never!!!”
And here we are. You are my man.
You ask me to make lists.
I love this. (but you know I love making lists so it isn’t exactly work to me. )
What we should do:
- Travel the world
- Go to every San Pellegrino 50 best restaurants in the world.
- Go to Japan – like everywhere
- Take a bath – not too long of one, I hate being pruny
- Go to an owl cafe
- Go to a cat (neko ねこ 猫) cafe 😀
- Feed each other Nutella
- Stay at a ritzy hotel and splurge on room service
- Keep each other motivated
- Keep each other healthy
- Couples Message
- Take a train overnight somewhere, hopefully, Europe
- Swing Dance
- Shop for undies in Tokyo
- Ice skate in Rockefeller center in NYC
- Build an igloo in Alaska
- Pray at a temple in Japan (Nara)
And many of these things came true.
We communicate with our bodies: open stances or closed stances, fiddling and looking away, shifting glances, wild gestures or uncomfortable arm crossing. The saying “Actions speak louder than words” is true. Seeing how a person responds physically can communicate their insecurities and their confidences, the things they like and dislike, and also whether they are extremely selfish or are relaxed and loving. Someone who really listens can see right through people.
Then sometimes silence (or the lack of action) speaks louder than words. Whether that inaction is someone saying one thing and doing another or being completely passive and not communicating at all.
That’s why I wrote a song called “Silence is death”
I wrote this because the lack of communication is a huge scream in itself. Crying silently, suffering in silence, sighing silently. It’s all a way of showing a burden, communicating pain or indifference. Especially indifference. “The silent treatment” is a way to communicate my pain that doesn’t need words to describe it. Everyone knows what it is. Everyone understands why. It’s because sometimes the amount of weight I’m carrying inside me is boiling under my skin and its turning my eyes red and soggy, its breaking me so much I can’t even speak. Sometimes the silence is necessary because I’m screaming so loud on the inside I can’t bear to speak anymore. Or maybe its the opposite, maybe it’s because the world and people around me are so loud I can’t handle the noise anymore so I stopped trying and shut down. Maybe I’m too tired of this sick mess to speak anymore. Words fall short of the things I want to say.
This is why people say things like this:
“If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold evermore wonders.”
― Andrew Harvey
Sometimes its really hard to be bursting at the seems like this always. I take a chill pill and reseed into a happy numbness, which sometimes solves the problems and I start to see that I don’t have to hate and hurt from all the noise around me and inside me. I can let it out and in and breathe and be one with it or separate myself from it. Nothing is permanent.
There’s a difference between serenity and being numb.
Communicating like this isn’t all there is though. Sometimes small talk and social interaction in the trivial pursuits can be a fueling ground for socialites or a draining all-consuming pit of terror. Sometimes I love to gossip and joke with my friends, and other times it tears me apart inside to hear idiotic and pointless words. I get so upset I give a silent tantrum and stop speaking to people.
‘Cause I’ve seen more spine on jellyfish
I’ve seen more guts in eleven year old kids
Have another drink and drive yourself home
I hope there’s ice on all the roads
And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt
And again when your head goes through the windshield
Is that what you call tact?
You’re as subtle as a brick
In the small of my back
So let’s end this call and end this conversation
This is my problem. It leads to me never believing that others can love me because I’m simply not worthy of it.
It isn’t women that I don’t believe though, I mostly trust girls. But I can’t trust guys, (sorry if this sounds sexist but… it has been my overarching experience through my life).
I’ve never been good enough for my dad, never strong enough to chop wood or athletic enough to draw the attention of my Dad’s dad, (my grandad). I was never good enough for a lot of guys I liked or dated in the past. There was always something about me that needed to change for them to be pleased. Mostly my body. I was never enough for a lot of other people because they wanted me to be there constantly, and well, I have a life I need to live too.
I’ve never felt good enough to love someone else because of this. As if I wasn’t worth enough to give someone else adoration. But then at the same time, I’m too worthless not too, because everyone else must be more deserving than I to receive love. I’ve felt so unworthy in the past that I just summed it up to being incapable of loving others. Incapable of commitment and loyalty because I’m not good enough anyway.
“A Bed Full of Safety”
Even though I have no reason to really think I’m not enough right now. I know I’m talented, intelligent, strong, and mature, I can’t shake the feeling of never being good enough. I can’t help but remember that I couldn’t love, and I couldn’t truly be loved by others, I can’t stop feeling helpless in the fact that I’m just starting to live, just learning how to be.
But being isn’t easy.
I know I shouldn’t believe that I am not enough, but it’s hard to not believe it when I’ve disappointed so many people.
The Happiness of meeting again after a long time
There are lots of ways that people can be separated. Whether “separate” meaning ending of a relationship, friendship, or bond; or meaning separated by distance and time rather than breaking off that relationship, being apart is painful.
I’ve had friends all over the world, some which I’ve been able to see yearly or more and others that I have never seen.
I have friends I’ve grown up with that became the closest and most important people in my life graduate high school and go far away for college. It hurt to be apart from them. It hurt to lose the physical connection we had and to lose the fulfilling meetings we used to have regularly. But we had retrouvailles when we were finally able to get together during summer, winter, and spring breaks.
Separation changes relationships and changes people. Communication and visiting become more special, but also more difficult. Talking to one another can become a chore, or become monotonous because the same questions are always being asked. “How was your day?” “What did you do?” “How is everyone back home?” “How is school?” “What are your classes like?”‘How was work?”. After a while it feels like there is nothing more to say over the phone or via text.
It feels like the distance between the two of you is prying a wedge between you even more than you thought it would.
It’s costly on everyone in many ways. Seeing friends means gas money, spending money for activities, and food. Seeing friends means a plane ticket home or to them, expenses of travel and the like.
Being apart from friends means you might make new friends and lose those friends, or the flux of new friends is whittled down to the ones that you actually like talking to you, rather than the ones which are just convenient to converse with. The difference between a study buddy and a real pal. It costs time and effort to be happy, to stay happy, and to preserve the happiness that you have with those you love most in the world.
The hardest part about these expenses, is making sure they are worth it, and remain worth it.
Something being worth your time is far from something which is just convenient. Although, convenience does assist in keeping things that are worth your time.
Convenience is having a neighbor that you can barrow things from politely and they have the same relationship with you, but you wouldn’t invite them over for a heart-to-heart about your dying uncle and the struggles of cancer in your family.
The kind of person you invite over for that serious conversation who thinks you are worth their time is the friend that maybe it isn’t all that convenient for them to see you. That’s why it is special when you see each other, because when you do, both of you have planned that chat, that cup of tea or coffee, that special meeting spot, or the favorite seats in your living room. The date’s been on your calendar and it has been something the two of you texted about for weeks. Making sure both could be there around the same time, prepared and with lots to say.
But also with this best friend, you don’t always need something to talk about. Silence can convey what you need it to as well. Because sometimes all you can say is “I’m so glad you are here,” with me because I need you and you are worth it and I love being with you because I love you.
And you know they are thinking the same thing and don’t need to say it.
Harmony in the those moments of retrouvailles.
The personality type of the “Jealous One” is a known thing to everyone on the planet. Why do these people even exist? Do you consider yourself the jealous one? I’ve never considered myself the jealous one until a few weeks ago.
This is because I liked someone who was a “Jealous One” and he seemed to be rather possessive. Which isn’t new to me, but what was new is I actually enjoyed it. It made me feel wanted until I realized it was all just words.
He never really was possessive or jealous or protective, he just wanted to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.
The Characteristics of a Lying Asshole:
1. Blanket Excuses. This is so he doesn’t he get his story confused and he uses the same excuses multiple times in one day. But the next day or the day before could be totally different excuses for the same problem.
2. When friend’s of friend’s give you looks. The sideways, “Hey, did you know what was just happening?” look. Because he was hitting on another girl and you weren’t present, but he won’t say a word.
3. Won’t look you in the eye – but says you have to look into his. If it isn’t obvious already, he’s been lying and still wants to make sure you feel the same way while he flip-flops.
4. Talking the talk, not walking the walk. When he says he is going to do all these romantic things with you, but never does. It’s not because you guys couldn’t find the time, it is because it will never happen.
5. When he wants you to come to him but he won’t come to you. This is because he doesn’t want to say where he’s been so he just asks where you are but wont say where he was.
6. When you learn. You stopped talking to him and you’re mutual friends tell you what really went down.
7. Walking in on the wrong show. He’s folding another girl in plain sight. Try not to barf right there.
8. “Jealous one”. Now you feel like you’re the jealous one. Don’t sweat it, you’re just a normal human being with feelings. They deserve each other.
At the end of the day, I’m not actually jealous, just really sad.
I know it’s silly that I say this, but humans kinda suck at being human sometimes.
Like those times when we are all “oh I’m so good at talking to people and being the social creature I was created to be,” and all the sudden you hate everyone and don’t ever want to see human faces ever again. Unless it’s in a TV show where you don’t have to interact with them physically.
I’ve had times like this lately.
Then there is the other side of being less human: people who lack empathy and mercy, they are the people who have shut off their human compassion to hedonism or some strange thing.
Ironically enough, I have met a sociopath. Many people think that sociopaths are the ones that lack empathy or connection, but I think it’s the opposite. They have empathy, they crave connection, but they don’t have the capability to perform them in the human way. They are angry in love, they are angry in empathy…. just angry.
Differing from a psychopath, a sociopath can be attached emotionally to others, but it is harder for them to. They also tend to be very strange and hard to connect with.
Normal humans, can be hedonistic, but that’s like taking a part of humanity and putting a magnifying glass over it and using selfishness as your governing motive. Base needs are taken for granted and greed replaces reason and sympathy.
Normal humans experience greed, selfishness and other things but can look past oneself and care for others, it’s part of what makes us human, because we can control ourselves this way unlike animals, who mostly will rely on instinct and survival needs to function.
Humans complicate their lives with everything….. like blogging for instance.
A useless and rigorous application of words to random subjects that catch my interest fulfills my need to write mostly. But sometimes my personal blog isn’t personal enough since, it is published to the world.
A human thing, to have self-importance. A silly human thing.
I’ve been that blue person lately.
Not being able to articulate how I feel is also making me more sensitive. I think I just cried while reading an email from a teacher just because it reminded that I am really bad at hiding how much I am not in control.
Ya know how in social arenas there are the inner monologues where you make comments on other’s people behavior and other reminders while simultaneously there is the outer dialogue where you communicate like a normal person and react rationally to average blows and brush them off? Well, I don’t really now where to stop myself when it comes to dipping into my inner monologue. All I want to do is scream at the world and show exactly what I think without a filter or omission. But, as always, I would then be another asperger’s diagnosed teen with anxiety and anger issues. Wonderful, all the medication.
Most the time, I don’t give a fuck and say exactly what I want, but lately I have tried to restrain myself. I can’t stay quiet though, it drives me crazy and I just take it out in other ways. I sass my mother (which I neverrrr do) and I insult my friends, I snap at people, and it’s just gets worse from there.
All I got is: “Hey, at least I noticed before it was too late.” But does that really count towards me or just make me seem like the self admitting addict who still won’t be ok in the end? Ah, trauma, trauma, trauma.
And here comes the depressing song/poem/pop culture quotes:
“To die, to sleep, to sleep perchance to dream and in that sleep of death whats dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil? Aye, there’s the rub, for who would endure the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, the insolence of office the law’s delay, the twangs of dispraise love, and the spurns which patient merit unworthy takes, that he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin?…” (Hamlet)
And all that was by memory just so you guys know….
“I wish I could quit you!” Broke back Mountain
Really sorry about that one…
“If only I were a glove upon that hand, so that I might touch that cheek!” Romeo and Juliet
Not so sorry about that one.