I’m afraid to write in here. Funny how I used to see “type”, as if it were a mere technicality, but I suppose I recognise also, that my heart, and my mind are “writing” rather than typing. I don’t know, maybe it’s a romantic notion, the difference between writing and typing. Where writing seems like a warm, personal feeling, and typing, feels more like the cold, harsh confines of work.
I might be wrong.
But back to the issue at hand. I’m afraid of typing in here. I’m afraid of completing something, like this. This is small, but even when it’s completed, and I publish it, it’s there, finished, flawed and all. It’s not perfect. I’m afraid to finish writing the perfect song, or finish that lesson plan. I’m afraid of making those decisions that come in the heat of the moment, when the inspiration strikes, I’m afraid to let the instance of that magic finish it’s course.
And if you could see what I see, it’s the supernova of a big bang, an entire new universe is created in that instance, and I’m afraid to let the dust settle. I see the creation of something as beautiful and majestic as a spark, as a pale, crooked pretense of the singularity. The purity is lost, everything else is hand-me-downs, and how could anyone be satisfied with such a notion.
I don’t know if that’s whats troubling me, stopping me from closing the deals, the loose ends, the sparks of inspiration that strike me every now and then, and I just let them fester, like infected boils on your skin, they seethe with pus and blood, yet at the point when they burst, it’s still a glorious shower of gunk.
Maybe I’m afraid that I can’t live with my decisions, maybe it’s the unknown, the things that I cannot control, the reckless falling into someone else’s arms, of comfort and security. Maybe I just cannot allow myself that respite, because ultimately my heart has failed to love and trust. Maybe there’s something wrong and broken inside me. Maybe it’s the things I’ve seen, not with my eyes, but the mind’s eye. Maybe once you see, you cannot unsee. Maybe I just won’t let myself fall into the madness again.
Is that how every heart feels? Like nothing is certain, nothing lasts forever, nothing even matters sometimes?
And all this doubt in my heart, stems from some sort of unknown fear, of what I can’t really wrap my head around. It eludes me, this mind-killer, and I know not what incapacitates me so. I don’t know if it’s some sort of craving for acknowledgement, that I’m not a fuck up, or that I’m worth loving, or if it’s supposed to be my heart realising what my mind has been saying always.
Or to understand, that I am only human, capable of hurt just like everyone else.
To the gypsy that remains faces freedom with a little fear
I have no fear, I have only love
Distillation is the process of purification. It calls for only the purest essence to be collected at the end of the process. It’s a tall order, but I wish that more things in life were distilled. Cut out the BS, say what you want to say, deal with the circumstances with a surgical precision that leaves only the smallest of scars.
But we’re not the pure entities we wished we were. Despite the maturity I’ve gained as a result of not always getting what I want, I don’t think I’ve developed a hard heart that doesn’t break when I can’t give you what you want. It hurts me that I will hurt people, simply for being the person I am, and the choices I make. It makes me irate that I cannot be all things to all people, that as much as I have the ability to love, I will always have the capacity to hurt as well.
And in that sense, the singular, distilled thought, is that I am still that much immature, if I still believe in happily ever afters.
I decided to type in here, because I wanted to remember something, or how someone made me feel.
I met someone nice today, and even though nothing developed, I wanted to remember it, because it’s been awhile since I felt this forgotten, pleasant emotion.
That’s really the best I can do to describe the person and the emotion: pleasant, nice.
There’s no need for extreme superlatives, because I can’t extrapolate the future, nor did I go out of my way to impress said individual, it all happened like a casual conversation, she seemed down to earth and we didn’t really expect anything more, or anything less.
In case anyone (read: the two giraffes and three possums that read this blog) is wondering, she was not the “fascinatingly scary” girl mentioned in my tweets. –> here.
No. This was the simple, vanilla girl that took my blood sample and handled some of my administration when I went down to the clinic for a medical check up. Through casual conversation, she knows I’m going to start teaching in the near future, and I know she’s going to enroll in medical school later this year. Very plain things, but I’m a vanilla sorta guy, and it doesn’t get more vanilla than this. Okay, maybe going to med school’s sorta like having cookie dough in your vanilla ice-cream, but that’s it!
So there were no exchanging of numbers or anything, because, nice and pleasant as she was, I think she would be a little too young for the time being, or I’m not exactly back in the game myself (self-imposed exile since I have no work.) But I wanted to type this in here, because it was nice, to notice women again, or at least be attracted on that level.. y’know.. a tiny clue that your heart hasn’t completely turned to stone and that you still have some emotion left, plain as they may be.
Where do we find love?
Do we find it in the places we shouldn’t look?
Or in the secret places?
The nooks and crannies,
The malls and the museums,
Or maybe, the leftover plenties.
Where do we find love?
How did we lose her in the first place?
Did she get lost?
Or did we just let each other go?
To faraway places, where no one could reach,
To strange alien lands, where no one bleeds.
Where do we find love?
I could spend this whole life searching,
For something that resembled a heart,
And yet, were I to find yours,
I’d forgotten where I last placed mine.
Would you believe that I’ve had this text input window open for more than two hours? It’s not so much that I don’t know what to say, but more like “is there any reason why I should be typing in here tonight?”
Honestly, there is no good reason, I’m just wasting my time, listening to Tom Waits, and then I got distracted by Brand New. I might add a video I found of them recently, because it’s such a great rearrangement of their song, “Jesus Christ”.
But apart from that, I’m grappling with something that should really be inconsequential because it’s just me being a judgmental bastard, but I’m getting really tired of seeing all this PR and Social Media bullshite on my twitter and blog feeds. Of course I could just block or unfollow anyone whose content I found irritating, but it’s not the persons, it’s just the inane subject matter that I’ve moved past, but it still follows me around like bad B.O.
And then, it might also just be me, who’s just being a snarky jerk who’s not eating any pie now, and seeing other people eat pie. Let’s just call it petty jealousy.
But seriously, maybe I’ll be sorting my life out really soon, when I get that offer letter to teach. But that’s another adventure I’ll talk about another time.
Right now, I remember asking Jess where all the arty, funny, Christian girls were.. and it’s true, they’re all in Australia. I’m facing a drought in the dating scene, or if I ever had one in the first place. Given, I’ve kind of (d)evolved into this commitment phobic person, simply because I cannot get my house in order, and yet I hold on to a conservative value system that wants to believe in the right type of relationship, yet I’m attracted to off-beat girls who usually do not share similar values and beliefs as I do. And if I want to do the right thing, it’s not to lead anyone on right? Right… …
Ah Catharsis, you are my best friend. Consequence, you can take a ticket and I’ll see you when I’m done with all the other crap I gotta deal with first. But yeah.. hang in there, or maybe just go home.. you and I never really worked out.
So well, I just got home from another night of beer at the usual haunt with some of my mates, and you’ll have to forgive me if I’m slightly buzzed, but every time I am, a song pops itself into my head, and I have to type out what I’m thinking off, if only to alleviate my restlessness.
So the song I’m thinking off tonight, is I think by Dave Matthews, though I can’t remember the title, I think it’s from their ‘Everyday’ album, and the song keeps playing in my head, hence today’s title. No, I can’t explain it.
There really isn’t any point to this entry, not that I’ll ever try to make a point in this blog. I’m still trying to get used to the either of different blogs for different thoughts, though I’m not too sure if all the readers understand the difference. Well, chances are, if you chanced upon this space, it means you understand the difference between Singularity Industries and Harmless? Bananas! because I do not plug this blog at all.
Not that it matters. Whether I choose to type freely or believe that I should watch my tongue. I don’t really know what any of this is for really.
I think perhaps, one of the conversations we were having today was about how do you know if ‘that’s the girl you want to marry’? While I won’t go into details, it has been plaguing me that I have not really been infatuated with anyone powerfully enough for the past three years.
Infatuation, which might be a rather dirty word in the realm of long lasting, meaningful, relationships, has actually been the enabler for me to woo girls. But, slowly, I find myself lacking that, or dare I even say, I’m not even inspired to. Infatuation’s sort of like a first step for me to understand what, or why I fancy someone. Alas, I do not really know if I’ve really progressed from there. I’m not too sure really. I think of all the things I’ve done for women in the sake of the chase, may have just boiled down to infatuation, and I do not like to use the word for the emotion, love, lightly.
Sorry if this isn’t making sense. But I’m just wrestling with my own mind right now. I think I recognise that I’ve been infatuated way more times than I’ve ever been in love, and it should sort of make me sick for such a shallow reasoning. But I also acknowledge that it’s a very critical first stage of the entire phenomena we know as a ‘relationship’. And further to that point, it’s been awhile since I’ve been oddly infatuated with someone that it makes me throw reckless abandon to the wind, and act like an utter fool.
Suddenly I feel like eating fish and chips.
Update: The song wasn’t by Dave Matthews, but The Killers. The title is as it is though.
One of the best experiences I’ve gotten out of my (f)unemployment phase, is growing closer to my family. By staying home more often, I’m allowed by default to spend more time with the people that matter to me, and as I’ve come to learn, blood is thicker than water, and there’s no place like home.
I fully understand, that having a family that loves is truly a blessing, and that there are pockets of abuse, of any kind that go on in various homes, but I’m just thankful mine isn’t one of them, though it breaks my heart that as human beings, we really hurt the ones closest to us.
We can’t choose our families, we’re born into it, and we all have our idiosyncrasies as individuals. I always thought that I could reshape certain things about my family members that irked me, but I think that when you realise the small and big things that family will do for each other, you reshape your own perspective, to accommodate the uniqueness of each family individual.
For example, I’ve always thought my mother a bit of a nagger, but her intention isn’t out of hurt or spite, but in love. And I’ve had to learn patience to see certain things from her perspective. That’s just how she shows it, and when somebody’s intention is pure, you don’t really fault them, though you could if you wanted to. But that’s the beauty of it, by opening a channel of communication and not being irked at first instinct, we talk about what rubs us the wrong way, and two people can take positive steps to understanding people better.
People talk about how you can’t help with who you fall in love with, and I wonder, if by default we’re just supposed to love our families, regardless of shortcomings.
I don’t know, but love unconditional, even in the face of personal self doubt, failures, roadblocks, pain, anguish.. is not simply a ‘happy’ feeling. Sometimes, love hurts, but in the end, if the intent is to love, and better someone else, I hope it finds a way to pull through. Love is not a four-letter word, or simply an emotion.. it’s life, thought and deed. Slowly I’m learning, what it means to love in this day and age.
