NOSTALGIA IS A WEAPON

Okay, so I had two other people today tell me to write a book. I just want to say that I think you’re all silly, my writing is not good enough for that type of application, but thank you for the thought.

I dissolved my last attempt at blogging because it turned into a bitchy, “Oh, I’m so depressed” sort of thing, and I’m afraid that’s what this one is becoming. Maybe this isn’t as suited to me as I thought. Or maybe I’m taking out my frustration at the world on the poor, defenseless blog. Grr. Someone give me a lobotomy.

As Naomi and I discuss her plans for the future:
Me: Babe, you better plan on being fucking rich.
Naomi: Of course I am. How else would I afford the village?

I have a tendency to overanalyze my blog posts. It takes me a little while to write them, to organize my thoughts on paper. But then I find myself going back, just minutes after posting, to do a little cleaning up. It’s during that time when I’m getting some tea or starting the laundry that the voice in the back of my head starts bitching: “Ugh, did you really just use that word?” or “Do you realize how selfish that sounds?” or “Fuck, man, this isn’t meant to be Tolstoy, but what were you thinking with that sentence?!”. I’d say it takes away from the honesty of this place, but the fact is I do it when I’m talking as well. Those who know me could likely tell you that sometimes it takes ages for me to actually say anything because I keep revising my words. I don’t think it’s a vanity of presentation, but rather that I want to be sure that I’m being understood correctly. It’s so easy for me to spill out a sentence exactly the way it first pops into my brain, but you folk don’t have the luxury of being inside there and understand what I’m talking about before I say it. It’s interesting, though not unexpected, that this issue has increased in severity since I started having regular readers. I’m trying to resolve myself to not edit this post at all. I’m curious to see when I go back if my writing is any different than what I’m used to.

Do let me know if I’m beginning to sound like a raving lunatic.

Naomi and I just had a great discussion regarding our jobs and why we hate them/why they’re unhealthy for us. She works in the food service industy, I in retail. We are both in jobs that require excellent customer service. Nome and I actually enjoy providing good service and doing our jobs well. But we’ve both agreed that we feel like we’re prostituting ourselves daily. We’re expected to pretend that we are always happy, shiny people, nothing ever bad in our lives. Of course that’s completely contradictory to the true nature of things, and so we’re both racked with internal conflict. It’s very difficult at times to hide how you really feel, and though we’re both very good at it, there is an eventual toll. We both come home from work in pain, not (I think) from too much physical exertion, but rather from the constant stress of pretending to be something we’re not. Going to work now essentially means playing a role, and I for one am not a born actor. It’s just too much sometimes. Both of us need to find places where we can actually be who we are and enjoy what we do, instead of being fragments of ourselves via blatant fabrications who hate what we have to do every day. It’s just not healthy.

I hate to sound so selfish. I’m very fortunate in what I have and the opportunities I’ve been given, and I don’t want to sound like I’m taking them for granted. So many people have it infinitely worse than I do, and I feel so stupid for even thinking like this when I realize that. But the fact remains that the mentality is still there, regardless of those others, and I think that is indicative of a need for change. I just want us both to find a place where we can be comfortable getting up in the morning and doing what we have to do.

But then, doesn’t everybody?

So I don’t allow myself to watch this movie very often. I don’t know if I even could watch it often. Either way, The United States Of Leland is one of my favorite movies. Naomi has never seen it, so we watched it tonight. We both agree that while the film is devastatingly sad, it’s also absolutely beautiful.

I’m going to attempt to use the ability of this blog to become a forum for topical discussion. If you’ve seen the movie, I’d like you to post a comment about it. If you haven’t seen it, I ask that you add it to your Netflix queue, or consider renting it the next time you’re at the video store. Days, weeks, months: I know you’re all busy people, and I don’t care how long it takes. Eventually I want you to see this movie, and then I’d like to hear some reactions. How it made you feel, what it made you think, any questions it brought up.

I only ask because every time I watch it, it has a profound effect on me. I’m always moved in some form, and so I like to share that with others. You folk are always good for some fascinating perspective, so I hope you’ll consent to be my test subjects on this endeavour.

Now if I could only hold onto this feeling long enough to be propelled into some inspired action…

Part of the afternoon was spent looking outside. The bradford pears outside my apartment are in full bloom, little white flowers everywhere. It’s been incredibly windy today, and the air is filled with falling blossoms. I can’t decide if it reminds me of snow or dandruff.

It’s definitely getting to be spring here. The air has the scent of renewal and cleanliness; I find myself leaving the patio door open most of the day to let the wind snake through the living room. So much better than Febreeze, and a hell of a lot cheaper.

My roommate is sitting at my desktop computer as I sit here with the laptop on the couch. We’re both blogging, presumably about entirely different things, and I dunno, there’s something curious about that. I suppose it’s no more special than two people in a room together reading separate books. I guess I just never thought of blogging as being a potential group activity. I’d like to stick three or four people in a room together and let them all blog and see if there’s any shared aspect of proximity that creeps into their entries. But then, I like performing weird experiments on people.

It’s like we’re on crack around here sometimes. It’s nice to be able to say whatever random shit happens to pop into your brain with no fear of negative repercussion. Yes, there will be strange looks, and perhaps a small question of your sanity, but then once the ridiculousness of what you’ve just said sinks in there’s generally laughter all around. For instance, another quote from Naomi this evening:
(During dinner, and performed in a sing-song voice to the Oscar Meyer bologna song)
Naomi: My burrito has a first name: B-U-R-R-I-T-O!

Anyway.

I got to catch up with an old friend (though that title is probably too strong) today. We chatted for a while, she’s dealing with some similar stuff, which was a small comfort to me. I’ve refused to speak to her for months, mostly owing to the fact that I was beginning to feel used. Showing up at my door spontaneously with a group of people and essentially forcing me to play host for a few hours, managing to “forget” her wallet frequently when we’d go for coffee or food, things of that nature. I’m not going to let myself get caught up with that again, but it was nice to talk again for a bit if nothing else.

Still didn’t manage anything that could really be perceived as productive. I need to get off my ass and go purchase a black ink cartridge so I can print more sheet music, but haven’t yet found the motivation to actually go to the scary Wal-Mart at five in the morning in search of the damned thing. Perhaps tomorrow. Either way I need to start developing a routine for the day. Getting my life back into a manageable and healthy schedule is the next priority.

Taken from Rasputina’s website:

Don’t you find it distracting that the U.S. has turned into a fascistic dictatorship and we’re all one step away from some kind of sick concentration camp for debtors and dissenters?
M: (frowns) Yes, I do find that quite distracting. But sometimes, when I think of the reality and nearness of catastrophic climate change, I can forget about the fascist America thing for a minute. Then I am able to finish the new song I’m writing about catastrophic climate change in fascist America or whatever.

There’s a lawnmower in my periphery, an annoying buzz audible in every room of this apartment.

Sigh.

I suspect today will be another day spent in headphones in front of the computer. At least I’ve gotten up at a semi-reasonable time (for me, at least). I’m going to attempt something constructive later, once I figure out what that is.

I try way too hard to impress people. I’d like to think that I’m too cool to jump through hoops and put on a bit of theatrics, but I really do want people to like me. To be honest, I’m not really sure how truly likeable I am, and yet I try. But there’s always a point in that whole “getting to know someone” process where the boundaries start to break down, and the real me begins to creep in. I think that this blog is helping me to do that, only within myself.

I know I try to impress myself, but this format of reflection has given me something different. This is honest, plain, and it’s me. I’ve never really had that mirror to look into before. This blog appears to be facilitating a greater willingness to understand myself.

It’s also shown me that perhaps I’ve made too hasty a self-judgement. Not that I suddenly think I’m great, just that maybe I just might be an okay guy after all, and maybe I don’t need to hate myself so much.

I’m pretty sure all this means I’ll be sticking around here for a while. At the very least I’m looking forward to where it might take me in the future.

Tonight’s quote of the evening comes from my roommate, who was a bit, um, stoned at the time. I’m not even sure she realized what she said. She just kept on going, but I thought it cool enough to write down:

“Language is the most creative aspect of human creation.”

She was referring to the insanely quick pace at which new terminology is created and made acceptable within basic society. People just make a new sound, give it a definition, and suddenly it’s everywhere.

Somewhat interesting when you really think about it.