I Like Words

I talk a lot. I like words. I like people who read. While I don't dislike people who don't know many words or don't read, I do pity them. I feel sorry for them from a place that I know they couldn't describe. I don't think people who aren't exactly literate are stupid by all means, but I do believe they feel very one dimensional.

They can only be angry. Perhaps even mad. Upset even. What they cannot be is flustered. They cannot be filled with a pure rage caused by injustice. They cannot be infuriated by the grating on their ears from someone eating with their mouth open. To not even be able to properly define how they feel is something that I find rather crippling. Again, this is only as someone who likes to talk.

Those people, who are blissfully ignorant of the vibrant world they live in speak in blueprints. They tell their lives with little depth. This happened here, at this time, with these things. The people who speak with paints and color the world with their voice. When the ground stops being the dead lifeless earth and becomes teeming with life. When the bland, tasteless people are twisted and molded into humans with desires.

What do they taste? Things are just good or bad. Sweet and sour. Spicy. How boring. The taste sensation that crawls its way across the tongue is a wondrous experience that, combined with smell, can invoke memories and emotion thought to be long gone. When things move beyond good and jump into the territory of hitting the palette with a saltiness that teases the appetite that is only satisfied by the accompanying savory following the bite.

What can music be like? Again, I sometimes feel surrounded by a world that categorizes it into good and bad. Fast, slow, hard, soft. Bland experiences that don't do justice to a mesmerizing transcendence. One can attain nirvana from letting your soul be caressed by gentle sounds without a word. There's an intimacy from a stranger as the lyrics dance off of their tongue and are carried by melody that tantalize the heart. Two people, three people, four, five, ten, hundreds, thousands, can all be swayed and for one moment achieve a comradery that can be attained in no other way as they all move to the beat of one drum.

I'm (You're) Not a Crazy Person

You've gained the ability to feel. You've gained the ability to feel compassion. You've always felt anger but now you can feel anger without having to be destructive. You're not crazy. It may be new to you, but you're not a crazy person. Far from it.

I am far from perfect but I'm far from insane. I have my problems, but I know that they are far from dangerous. I've been in dangerous situations and I know I do not pose one. I hate being labeled as such.

Suicidal Tendencies

I have suicidal thoughts. Maybe not the ability to act on them, but they're there. Inside, festering in my brain. They are always there to remind me of the futility of life and its hopelessness.

For what is the point? If I die tomorrow, how long would I be remembered? A day? Surely so. A week? Month? Year? Decade? How long will it take until all memories of me have been eradicated from the minds of those who care about me? How long would it be until the grief of my passing numbed until I was nothing more than a fond memory of days passed? And then how long after that for those to even disappear?

The thoughts terrify me. That I can be so quickly forgotten. That my actions might in the end be meaningless. It brings me to this edge of darkness and despair. But it's not an empty void for there is a light. Faced with this seemingly endless void, this abyss, there is a pinprick of light. This darkness is the darkness that shall free me and let me fall into the light.

Now that I have seen that darkness inside, I find reason to be free, reason to be. Fear is a certainty, but that is nothing more than my body and brain reactung. I can push past this now.

Why be afraid? Why not live? Why be reserved when I know that the bad, terrible decisions will be just as pointless as the good? So long as I move forward with good intentions, even the unwise decisions might not be so bad. Even if I don't matter to the universe, I matter to me.

With this, I am free.

Stark Raving Mad

This is a moment I never want to forget and so I'm writing it down here. It happened a couple weeks before this entry. I was able to dance with a girl who I am very fond of and care for very deeply. It was probably the sleeziest thing (or at least one of them) but I find myself unable to regret any of it.

At the most recent anime convention I was at, I was able to finally bring a girl who I have admired for many years now. I've flirted with her and she has flirted back, but at the end of the day, I have a girlfriend (albeit it is a polyamorous relationship) and she has her heart set on another man. Yet, I still yearn for her. Something about her makes me long for her and I was able to get my wish during the rave.

We went together with her needing to act as my 'wingman'. She thought of the idea, I went along with it, but I had a totally different idea straight from the start. I had an immeasurable yearning for her and I went with the sole intention of being with her that night even if only for a little bit.



The smell of her was intoxicating and holding her close to me was a high that nothing could even begin to compare to. As we danced together, I felt her soft, warm skin beneath my finger tips tremble as I raked my nails up her thigh. A coy smile across her lips, looking downward and refusing to meet my gaze.

I lead her body across the beats, across the rhythms. My hips moved with the tempo both of our hearts beating like the bass. I know she could feel my excitement as she moved deeper into me and with me; each swing of the hips becoming fuller. We swayed like a pendulum; our bodies both in sync pressing harder into each other. The closer and more into her I got, the more I craved her flesh until finally I leaned in and bit her neck.

A slight moan escaped her lips and I felt her body jolt for a moment, shocked from the sudden sensation. She then turned around to face me and brought me close to her until she bit into my shoulder and I felt what her body must have. The sensual way her hand rested on the back of my neck and went through my hair electrified my spine. Despite the mass of bodies surrounding, the eyes watching, and the DJ playing, I was zoned in on her and nothing more.

I leaned in closer. I brought her face up to mine. Our lips touched for a fleeting moment. We both broke away, both of us realizing what we had done, but I was never sure if she regretted what we did. Even so, we did not break our hold on each other and kept on moving through the night. We kept our hands on each other, looking into each others eyes, nothing but fire erupting between them.

[I kissed her, and while at first it felt like some kind of success, reflecting back on it, it felt empty. There was so much tension that I felt leading up to it that didn't go away during like most kisses. It was just a small peck on the lips, but there was nothing there. It was disappointing and I realized that maybe it was more of a curiosity or maybe the moment was off, but everything I thought I felt just flew out the window, and I was okay with that.]*

We danced for a short time after, but soon I had to sober her and her friend up so I took them to Subway to fill their stomachs and we didn't speak of it until long afterwards.



[I hid it from Bethany and when I finally did tell her it all came out wrong. I should have just told her straight up but instead I became just like my father and hurt her like he did my mother. I guess I can't escape every single thing he did. She also eventually told her boyfriend and he was less than pleased.

So now, because I was stupid and a bit tipsy and not thinking, I ruined our friendship, hurt my relationship and possibly messed up hers. I'm such a shitty human being.]*


*I included everything in the asterisk with the sole purpose of hiding my own cowardice. I was a coward, afraid if anyone should find this blog and read this what they'd think. Then I realized that this blog is for me and only me. To say what I said is the same as lying to myself. While I actually regret getting caught and admitting what I had done, I do not regret my actions.

Inspiration

I've been told many times in my life that I've been an 'inspiration' to someone. That I've been an enormous source of inspiration for one person or another. Someone a couple months ago told me that I am someone that the world wishes they could be but are too afraid to act like. Someone last night told me that they were too embarrassed to be my friend at a low point in their life because I was too good of a person. Another person told me they didn't want to date me because compared to me, they were too terrible of a person. People often tell me that I'm the only person they feel like they can trust and rely

It must seem fucked up to think of all these things as bad, but all these things are just so pressuring. I don't feel like I go above and beyond anything unreasonable. It's just all of these expectations weigh down on me sometimes. I'm sure this is the same kind of pressure that everyone deals with, but sometimes it just feels like a completely different level. People expect me to be 'better', to be 'honest', but most of the time I feel like I'm just good at spinning the truth.

Someone told me recently that they feel like I'm one of their closest friends because they can share anything with me and I won't judge them. This is true, with some extreme cases excluded of course. The thing is, I think people just have a different value of shame. I don't mind sharing most things with people because I feel like there are so many more things to feel ashamed about. Thus, the things that most people would be embarrassed to admit, I feel nothing about. The things that most people wouldn't do, I have no reservations.

That leaves me with the fears that most people have placed in different things. That's what makes me different. I have fears that are wrapped in various delusions and irrational paranoia. Sometimes I get scared thinking about whether or not people would like me if they knew how suicidal I was on the inside and how messed up my train of thinking is. How desperately I wish to be an alcoholic but I know that I can't afford it. How depressed and anxious I am on a daily but have a higher sense of duty that pushes on through despite all that.

Of course logic tells me every single one of them would be there in a heartbeat ready to help. Nobody would even hesitate to help me. But I don't want them to. I'd rather drown. And I don't know why. I'd rather drown under my own sorrows alone rather than let people help me. Would people misunderstand? Would people think that I don't care about them? Because it's only through the help and pressure of others that I stay alive and push on. I do it more for them most days than I do for myself.

If anything, I'm scared that some day that might not be enough. I love my friends and all the people in my life, but sometimes I'm just scared that I'll be alone one day and that whatever strength I had will be gone and I'll follow suit.

Dreams

[Originally written 5/24/2013]

I've been having a lot of odd dreams lately.

They've been rather unsettling. Not so much that they're disturbing in some way, but more because of how they make me feel. I usually don't even remember these dreams, but these dreams are so vivid. They leave an indelible mark on me that I haven't been able to shake off lately to the point of frustration and almost on the brink of tears. I don't even know why they've been driving me so crazy lately.

The first dream I had was a few nights ago. It was about a girl who I've had other dreams I've written about in this blog and if anything, that's one of the reasons why I feel the weirdest about it. In fact, she might be reading this now. If you are, I was planning on throwing this down, then I found out that you still read my bloggity, then I had more dreams in this same token and so I decided I'm writing them all down.

It was a dream where I might have been dating her, or perhaps I was just with her, it wasn't made entirely clear. What I do remember is taking her hand and walking along with her, laughing with her. We walked towards the sun in the dusk. I wanted to show her this field that was very special to me. In hindsight, it's a very ugly field. I've only been there a couple of times. In real life, this field is rather barren and lackluster, but showing this field to her was my goal.

When we had arrived, it was covered in flowers, flowers of all kinds. If anything, it was very reminiscent of Final Fantasy VIII. I showed it to her and I could hear her gasp in amazement and surprise. As we talked in a hushed voice, almost like we did not want to disturb the sanctity of the beauty, the sun quickly dipped below the horizon and the stars came out.

We held hands and laid back into the flowers and watched the skies; eyes gazing the stars. The only way it could've been cheesier was if there were shooting stars and a musical number started playing. We just laid there, talking. It felt ethereal.

Then I woke up. My chest hurt so much. I looked over at my girlfriend and I hugged her tightly as I realized it wasn't her I was dreaming about. I felt so guilty. Not even so much that I was dreaming about another girl, but that I had so much heartache after dreaming about another girl. Even now typing this, I feel guilty and paranoid she'll find out about this. I know she won't cause I've kept this blog such a tight secret, but those feelings twist inside of me.

Then I had another dream today. It was about L. She texted me saying she broke up with her boyfriend/girlfriend and she could finally start texting me again and we could be friends once more. I remember even in my dream the initial feeling from reading that text was rage. How dare she say it so casually, especially after a year of no contact.

I was going out into my living room to tell my girlfriend about it, but her and L were both in the living room chatting it up. I froze. Just seeing L again and hearing her greet me with a simple, "hi", was enough to send my stomach spiraling.

"Uh...Hi, L"

She looked up at me with that smile I had been so enamored with for years. That warm smile, freezing me to the spot.

"Yeah, um, L, this is my girlfriend, ___________. ___________, this is L."

They looked at each other, both displaying the epitome of kindness and civility which I'm honestly unsure if that would happen. I stood there, dumbfounded about the situation.

In this dream, we all went to our room, I guess we all shared the same room cause we all had clothes in the same place, and started going through it. The girls changed in front of me, and it was like they were trying to tease me or subtly compete for my attention. They joked and spoke to each other, but I could see their snide glances to the side, peering over at me.

At one point or another, L took me aside and was trying to get me to leave my girlfriend. I'm glad that even in a dream state, I was able to hold my ground. I held her away from me and I almost started to cry as I knew I had to give her up. I told her that I couldn't be with her, our time had passed and I was dedicated to my current girlfriend.

L then casually brushed me off and told me she'd make me hers yet. My heart sank a little bit as I knew that perhaps I did want that. It hurt just seeing her walking away. Her and my girlfriend got back together and started to talk and chatter happily between them, but I could do nothing but walk away.

When I awoke from this dream, I felt conflicted, as if I truly had that decision. I know it not to be something I can do, but it was still something that nagged inside of me. Something that pulled deep at my chest. If confronted with something like that in the future, would I still hold strong? I love my girlfriend. She's the only one I've cried for. Or am I just comfortable being around her? These questions have been popping into my head.

It feels so wrong, but yet, a part of me yearns...

Hamburglar

This is one of my favorite stories. It's about when I went down to Chicago last year for an anime convention. Normally, due to most people heaving a heavy sigh and rolling their eyes, I would not give a detail like that unless it was absolutely necessary, however in this case it is. ACen, or Anime Central, is one of the biggest-if not the biggest- anime convention in North America, or at least the Midwest. 15,000+ people show up annually now to attend and hang out with other nerdy people.

With all these people there, everyone has to eat somehow, so just a mile away from the convention center is a McDonalds. It also happens to be the only fast food restaurant around so everyone flocks to this to get some quick, warm, fast food. That being said, every time I went, it was packed with people of all sorts of walks of life. Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, tall, short, young, old and all went to this McDonalds to quickly fill up on the fatty foods that McDonalds had in its dispersal.

The line, no matter what time of day it was, would be many customers long. One or two would go up at a time, give their order, and stand off to the side or otherwise wait at a table for their food. Once it was finished, the order would be brought out, called, and the employee would then walk away from the food, preparing whatever was next. The customers would then be happy that their order was finally set and retrieve it. The circle of life. And that's how it went every single time I went.

Except one.

Now, considering this is an anime convention, lots of people are dressed up. Sorcerers, cat girls, warriors, pok'e'mon, random henchmen from the background of that esoteric show and for the employees who were so fervently working on cranking out orders lest they fall behind, could not have possibly noticed another patron dressed up like everyone else sitting on the sidelines was dressed up as the Hamburglar.

Anime convention or not, I know that when a Hamburglar is sitting in a McDonalds, some shit is going to go down, so I stood in line, keeping my eye on this man, who sat, patiently with a gleam in his eye that one with only nefarious intentions could have. Finally, the time had come. A huge order, full of McChickens, McDoubles, Big Macs, fries and nuggets came out to the counter in two heaping bags for a party of ten or more came to the counter. It was called out, and the happy party stood up, ready to get their meals.

The Hamburglar knew that he was not going to get another chance like this. He had to strike now or never strike at all. He leaped down from his chair, rushed the counter before their rightful owners even had a chance, grabbed the two bags in his arms, zig-zagged his way between customers, kicked open the exit, and dashed off.

The restaurant froze. Nobody knew what to do. Even the managers at the counter were shocked, actions suspended with disbelief. Finally, one of the huge party stammered out, "Th-the uh....Hamburglar kinda....stole our food? Ca-can we uh...have our order again...?"

The manager just stood there, mouth agape. Looking back at the door hoping it was a cruel prank, and looking back at the customers, he just shook his head and said, "Yeah, RERUN THE ORDER"

It was the most brilliant moment at the convention.