Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Full Disclosure
The past month or so has been pretty hectic and eventful. I'm a quarter-century old now, though I'm not a particular fan of growing old/celebrating birthdays in general. However, I am a fan of growing wiser and learning more, so I suppose there is an upside to it.
For the latter half of May, my one-bedroom apartment also housed three of my best friends who came from out of town for a convention (LOL spinning tops). Having them around, though, has given me a fair bit of perspective. I appreciate them and what they mean to me all that much more because really, that was the first time I really had at least one person over, for an extended period of time, that actually meant something substantial to me (as sad as that is to admit). Now that they're gone, I miss them dearly, and I haven't been quite myself.
Work has been unusually stressful as two of my coworkers have gone on study leave and I was left in charge to finish what they began. It's a lot of hard work and long hours, but at the same time I'm glad that my managers feel they can rely on me to do what it is I do. Sure, I'm stressed out of my mind, and have been losing sleep, but at the same time, I am making my future all that much better.
What is the sense of reward unless you suffer along the way to get there? From education to child birth - from fitness to relationships, the journey is filled with bumps and scars, but it makes the destination all that much more satisfying.
So really, while I may not want to grow old, I want to continually grow up. And I see that I'm still not quite fully there yet. There's so much left that's ahead of me, and I want to experience it all. I am anxious not just to taste the fruits of my labour, but to be able to look back at the end of it all and appreciate the toil it took to get to the harvest.
For the latter half of May, my one-bedroom apartment also housed three of my best friends who came from out of town for a convention (LOL spinning tops). Having them around, though, has given me a fair bit of perspective. I appreciate them and what they mean to me all that much more because really, that was the first time I really had at least one person over, for an extended period of time, that actually meant something substantial to me (as sad as that is to admit). Now that they're gone, I miss them dearly, and I haven't been quite myself.
Work has been unusually stressful as two of my coworkers have gone on study leave and I was left in charge to finish what they began. It's a lot of hard work and long hours, but at the same time I'm glad that my managers feel they can rely on me to do what it is I do. Sure, I'm stressed out of my mind, and have been losing sleep, but at the same time, I am making my future all that much better.
What is the sense of reward unless you suffer along the way to get there? From education to child birth - from fitness to relationships, the journey is filled with bumps and scars, but it makes the destination all that much more satisfying.
So really, while I may not want to grow old, I want to continually grow up. And I see that I'm still not quite fully there yet. There's so much left that's ahead of me, and I want to experience it all. I am anxious not just to taste the fruits of my labour, but to be able to look back at the end of it all and appreciate the toil it took to get to the harvest.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Commitments
I always enjoyed watching, The Magic School Bus, as I was growing up. Ms. Frizzle's motto of, "taking chances, making mistakes, and getting messy," has been something I put into practice time and time again. In my exploits throughout life, I have learned a lot. Accordingly, I have had my fair share of burns.
Often times I have been at odds with myself. I want to go through many different experiences, but I have grown so tired of paying the price for it. The problem is I know for a fact that there is no reward with zero risk. I can't simply get what I want without consequences.
Relationships with people are definitely the riskiest, but they tend to lead to the most significant rewards. From my experiences with the most intimate kinds of relationships, I've been abandoned, used, abused, tormented, disregarded, dismissed, and have had one case of an abortion.
As such, I liked to have thought that I had been through enough and that gave me enough justification to stop believing in people. Admittedly, what I have been through has been pretty rough, and I wouldn't readily wish it on anyone. However to stop believing would be too easy. Yes, even at times I need to put things in perspective. My own life is still not far from the start line, and I am absolutely in store for future challenges and experiences. There is no easy way out, no matter which way I look at it. No matter which path I take, I'm going to run into something.
So as such, it only feels fair and rational to re-instill some sense of belief that there is an end reward to a seemingly endless supply of hardship. Of course, that's all easier said than done. It's one thing to come to terms with the concept, but unless I put it into practice in my heart, I won't be able to move forward.
I need to challenge myself to have faith once again, and have the resolve to maintain that faith even when people fail me. Let's face it; people aren't perfect, and I can't understand the complete inner workings of one person, let alone everyone. It is unrealistic to believe I'll go through a perfect scenario. I've built up a strong resolve for different scenarios, but I still have ways to go when it comes to a resolve for the important things in life.
It'll be a difficult process, and I'm sure to fall a couple times along the way (read: several), but if I want to get something out of it, I'll keep at it. Maybe I'll surprise myself along the way.
Often times I have been at odds with myself. I want to go through many different experiences, but I have grown so tired of paying the price for it. The problem is I know for a fact that there is no reward with zero risk. I can't simply get what I want without consequences.
Relationships with people are definitely the riskiest, but they tend to lead to the most significant rewards. From my experiences with the most intimate kinds of relationships, I've been abandoned, used, abused, tormented, disregarded, dismissed, and have had one case of an abortion.
As such, I liked to have thought that I had been through enough and that gave me enough justification to stop believing in people. Admittedly, what I have been through has been pretty rough, and I wouldn't readily wish it on anyone. However to stop believing would be too easy. Yes, even at times I need to put things in perspective. My own life is still not far from the start line, and I am absolutely in store for future challenges and experiences. There is no easy way out, no matter which way I look at it. No matter which path I take, I'm going to run into something.
So as such, it only feels fair and rational to re-instill some sense of belief that there is an end reward to a seemingly endless supply of hardship. Of course, that's all easier said than done. It's one thing to come to terms with the concept, but unless I put it into practice in my heart, I won't be able to move forward.
I need to challenge myself to have faith once again, and have the resolve to maintain that faith even when people fail me. Let's face it; people aren't perfect, and I can't understand the complete inner workings of one person, let alone everyone. It is unrealistic to believe I'll go through a perfect scenario. I've built up a strong resolve for different scenarios, but I still have ways to go when it comes to a resolve for the important things in life.
It'll be a difficult process, and I'm sure to fall a couple times along the way (read: several), but if I want to get something out of it, I'll keep at it. Maybe I'll surprise myself along the way.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Goodwill
"Comparative Figures" was a look between myself at certain points in my past and how I am now, but in kind of a melancholic perspective. This entry should look at the better changes, as well as the special person that helped make it happen.
As I was growing up, I had skipped a grade in school fairly early, so I was almost always a year younger than the people around me. This became a sociological issue around the time kids started going through puberty before I did. I was always a tall kid, but since I was not going through my physiological growth spurt while everyone else was, my stature diminished significantly in comparison, and I was subject to a fair bit of bullying.
I was a very sensitive child up until then. As such, it made me that much more of an easier target for ridicule and sporadic violent attacks. Over the course of 7th and 8th grade, I became more and more of an angry child.
By the time 9th grade, and thus high school, took place, I was finally beginning to grow, and I shot up past most of the people who used to torment me during elementary. Because of my bitterness, I lashed out and became rather vengeful. As a result, I got into trouble a fair bit, including once or twice with the police. It was also in 9th grade that I met someone pivotal.
Her name was Jessica. She was a beautiful, quirky girl, talented at making me laugh and not feel so angry all the time. We became fast friends and we were soon inseparable in the halls of my school. It was through her that the raging fire within me began to smolder, and I returned to being a more reserved, shy individual.
However, her outgoing, devil-may-care persona caused her to be my diametric opposite, and kept me intrigued with her. Little by little I began to develop strong feelings for her over the course of our friendship, but my timidity and my low self-respect simply would not allow me to say anything. As the school year progressed, my feelings continued to grow stronger.
Near the end of the school year, yearbooks were being distributed. She told me that she would be going to the Catholic school down the road, which meant that we wouldn't be able to spend as much time together as we had in the past. This saddened me a fair bit, and made me more determined to try and reveal my true feelings for her.
However, as we exchanged yearbooks, I still couldn't say it out loud. I looked down at the book that belonged to her, sucked it up, and wrote down everything that I felt for her and what she meant to me. I knew full well that she was going to read it immediately after I handed it back to her. I had never felt so tense before in my life.
When we exchanged them back, I quickly buried my face in my book, not wanting to make eye contact. As I slowly read what she wrote to me, my eyes widened. In her own words, she wrote pretty much the same thing I wrote. I slowly looked up at her, and she slowly did the same. The two of us had cheesy grins on both our faces, and within me this incredible feeling of triumph overwhelmed my being and I felt invincible.
That was the start of a meaningful, four-year relationship, which took me on an incredible journey of memorable moments and discovery. Her personality always seemed to dominate my meek one, and we mostly did things that she wanted (not because she disrespected my opinion - I didn't really have much of one, and I enjoyed her ideas anyway).
It was through my continual interaction with her that I shed many of my failings - my negativity, self-loathing, lack of confidence, and timidity. I came out of my shell more each day because of her. I learned that I can be kind, caring, and compassionate to others - and that became my identity: the protector.
She was also my first in so many ways.
I owe much to Jess. I hope she is well.
As I was growing up, I had skipped a grade in school fairly early, so I was almost always a year younger than the people around me. This became a sociological issue around the time kids started going through puberty before I did. I was always a tall kid, but since I was not going through my physiological growth spurt while everyone else was, my stature diminished significantly in comparison, and I was subject to a fair bit of bullying.
I was a very sensitive child up until then. As such, it made me that much more of an easier target for ridicule and sporadic violent attacks. Over the course of 7th and 8th grade, I became more and more of an angry child.
By the time 9th grade, and thus high school, took place, I was finally beginning to grow, and I shot up past most of the people who used to torment me during elementary. Because of my bitterness, I lashed out and became rather vengeful. As a result, I got into trouble a fair bit, including once or twice with the police. It was also in 9th grade that I met someone pivotal.
Her name was Jessica. She was a beautiful, quirky girl, talented at making me laugh and not feel so angry all the time. We became fast friends and we were soon inseparable in the halls of my school. It was through her that the raging fire within me began to smolder, and I returned to being a more reserved, shy individual.
However, her outgoing, devil-may-care persona caused her to be my diametric opposite, and kept me intrigued with her. Little by little I began to develop strong feelings for her over the course of our friendship, but my timidity and my low self-respect simply would not allow me to say anything. As the school year progressed, my feelings continued to grow stronger.
Near the end of the school year, yearbooks were being distributed. She told me that she would be going to the Catholic school down the road, which meant that we wouldn't be able to spend as much time together as we had in the past. This saddened me a fair bit, and made me more determined to try and reveal my true feelings for her.
However, as we exchanged yearbooks, I still couldn't say it out loud. I looked down at the book that belonged to her, sucked it up, and wrote down everything that I felt for her and what she meant to me. I knew full well that she was going to read it immediately after I handed it back to her. I had never felt so tense before in my life.
When we exchanged them back, I quickly buried my face in my book, not wanting to make eye contact. As I slowly read what she wrote to me, my eyes widened. In her own words, she wrote pretty much the same thing I wrote. I slowly looked up at her, and she slowly did the same. The two of us had cheesy grins on both our faces, and within me this incredible feeling of triumph overwhelmed my being and I felt invincible.
That was the start of a meaningful, four-year relationship, which took me on an incredible journey of memorable moments and discovery. Her personality always seemed to dominate my meek one, and we mostly did things that she wanted (not because she disrespected my opinion - I didn't really have much of one, and I enjoyed her ideas anyway).
It was through my continual interaction with her that I shed many of my failings - my negativity, self-loathing, lack of confidence, and timidity. I came out of my shell more each day because of her. I learned that I can be kind, caring, and compassionate to others - and that became my identity: the protector.
She was also my first in so many ways.
I owe much to Jess. I hope she is well.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Internal Control
No longer can I savour your bittersweet taste
My body continues to reject you
But even if I can get the insulin for this affliction
Are you able to sustain me - to nourish me?
I'm not a kid anymore
And being an adult means not indulging
You're no longer good for me
But I admit to missing how I delighted in you
To have or have not
In the guise of good medicine
I hate you for what you caused
You've made me weary and ill
I hate myself more for missing you
The flavour that sparked against my tongue
And made me grin like a child again
Vulnerable, dependent, and weak
Call me when they find a cure
Hopefully I won't be too far gone by then
My body continues to reject you
But even if I can get the insulin for this affliction
Are you able to sustain me - to nourish me?
I'm not a kid anymore
And being an adult means not indulging
You're no longer good for me
But I admit to missing how I delighted in you
To have or have not
In the guise of good medicine
I hate you for what you caused
You've made me weary and ill
I hate myself more for missing you
The flavour that sparked against my tongue
And made me grin like a child again
Vulnerable, dependent, and weak
Call me when they find a cure
Hopefully I won't be too far gone by then
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Comparative Figures
In the family room of my parents' house, on the glass table beside the couch, sits a small, framed picture. In the picture is the smiling face of an innocent and hopeful 7-year-old boy. To this day, my mother praises this picture, noting how it is the best Mother's Day present she ever received from me.
I have shown this picture to many people over the course of time. The most popular response tends to be, "what happened to him?" The question is asked in jest each time, but I sometimes think about it on a more serious note.
What happened to you, little one? Your imagination was inspiring, and your innocence was refreshing. You wanted to be an artist, a paleontologist, an astronaut, a movie star, and a robot (though not all at the same time). When you were born, you were adored by everyone near you. You were a miracle. You should have died, but you endured. As you grew, people expected amazing things from you.
Those were many winters ago. Am I still that? When did you stop being innocent? When did you stop being so imaginative? Did the burden of the world crush you under its heel, or are you still pushing back up for dear life? Have you smiled that same hopeful smile since?
I gaze upon this photo often as a form of self-reflection. I have come a long way, but has it been in the right direction? Most would agree that I've achieved all I have set my mind to in this world, and some still feel like I have only scratched the surface. I have my own place and car. I am an accountant, like my father before me.
In many ways I want more from myself. My family came from near nothingness - simple farmers and fishermen - to ascend to what they are. That little boy was sheltered and had a lot handed to him to make something out of himself. I am not sated. I want my own ascension. I want to surpass. I want to show others that I can forge greatness with these two hands, which were once so small and unblemished. Only then can I truly be proud of myself. Only then can I face my family with the fullest of confidence to show them that I am worth my weight in the most precious of substances.
While they may love me regardless of how far my reach extends, I will never forgive myself if I cannot demonstrate within me the same qualities that make my family great.
Do you have it in you, little one?
I have shown this picture to many people over the course of time. The most popular response tends to be, "what happened to him?" The question is asked in jest each time, but I sometimes think about it on a more serious note.
What happened to you, little one? Your imagination was inspiring, and your innocence was refreshing. You wanted to be an artist, a paleontologist, an astronaut, a movie star, and a robot (though not all at the same time). When you were born, you were adored by everyone near you. You were a miracle. You should have died, but you endured. As you grew, people expected amazing things from you.
Those were many winters ago. Am I still that? When did you stop being innocent? When did you stop being so imaginative? Did the burden of the world crush you under its heel, or are you still pushing back up for dear life? Have you smiled that same hopeful smile since?
I gaze upon this photo often as a form of self-reflection. I have come a long way, but has it been in the right direction? Most would agree that I've achieved all I have set my mind to in this world, and some still feel like I have only scratched the surface. I have my own place and car. I am an accountant, like my father before me.
In many ways I want more from myself. My family came from near nothingness - simple farmers and fishermen - to ascend to what they are. That little boy was sheltered and had a lot handed to him to make something out of himself. I am not sated. I want my own ascension. I want to surpass. I want to show others that I can forge greatness with these two hands, which were once so small and unblemished. Only then can I truly be proud of myself. Only then can I face my family with the fullest of confidence to show them that I am worth my weight in the most precious of substances.
While they may love me regardless of how far my reach extends, I will never forgive myself if I cannot demonstrate within me the same qualities that make my family great.
Do you have it in you, little one?
Monday, February 9, 2009
Valuation
Up until now, the general mood of my posts have been pretty somber. I think it's best (especially considering my current mood), that I try to express something beyond the dark side of the moon, so to speak. The light does shine.
Despite the fact that I get frustrated with the feeling that I win at everything in life except the one most important thing, the statement is not entirely accurate. Yes, there have been moments where I have been humiliated, victimized, disappointed, and outright wrong when it came to love, but I am not going to define myself by who's draped on my arm and at my side. I have more sense and dignity to know that I am who I am not because of who I am with (or can be with) at any given time.
However, I do not discount the influence that others have in one's definition. I have a loving family (which an alarmingly high amount of people do not have) and I have wonderful friends who, despite their shortcomings, make life meaningful.
For some, you may sometimes note that I will say, as a goodbye - almost a benediction of sorts - with, "love you! good night!" unless I feel you'd be uncomfortable by it (trust me the feeling is still there - you know who you are). Know that if I say it to you, there is a twofold meaning behind it.
Firstly, I genuinely mean it as a sign of my eternal appreciation that you are a part of my life, and without you, I would have so much less to go on for in this world. Secondly, I use it as a form of expressing to you that you are important in your own right - not just important to me - important, period. Don't let yourself be fooled. Don't let anyone else tell you anything differently. You may have been abused in the past. You may have been let down. You may think you're worthless. Those things cannot be further from the truth. I have seen the value that you hold. I have seen your potential. My heart smiles upon the kind of person that you are - faults and all.
The second point, as you can tell, is the crux. If you know anything about me (or have the ability to scroll down and read), you'll know that I believe being important is such a significant thing (go figure), and is one of the best things for me - not just important to someone - important, period. I want you to see in yourself the quality that I hold in such high regard. I want you to see it like I see it in you.
Whatever you do, never impair your own value.
Despite the fact that I get frustrated with the feeling that I win at everything in life except the one most important thing, the statement is not entirely accurate. Yes, there have been moments where I have been humiliated, victimized, disappointed, and outright wrong when it came to love, but I am not going to define myself by who's draped on my arm and at my side. I have more sense and dignity to know that I am who I am not because of who I am with (or can be with) at any given time.
However, I do not discount the influence that others have in one's definition. I have a loving family (which an alarmingly high amount of people do not have) and I have wonderful friends who, despite their shortcomings, make life meaningful.
For some, you may sometimes note that I will say, as a goodbye - almost a benediction of sorts - with, "love you! good night!" unless I feel you'd be uncomfortable by it (trust me the feeling is still there - you know who you are). Know that if I say it to you, there is a twofold meaning behind it.
Firstly, I genuinely mean it as a sign of my eternal appreciation that you are a part of my life, and without you, I would have so much less to go on for in this world. Secondly, I use it as a form of expressing to you that you are important in your own right - not just important to me - important, period. Don't let yourself be fooled. Don't let anyone else tell you anything differently. You may have been abused in the past. You may have been let down. You may think you're worthless. Those things cannot be further from the truth. I have seen the value that you hold. I have seen your potential. My heart smiles upon the kind of person that you are - faults and all.
The second point, as you can tell, is the crux. If you know anything about me (or have the ability to scroll down and read), you'll know that I believe being important is such a significant thing (go figure), and is one of the best things for me - not just important to someone - important, period. I want you to see in yourself the quality that I hold in such high regard. I want you to see it like I see it in you.
Whatever you do, never impair your own value.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Materiality (I'm kind of a big deal)
I'm a proud person. Perhaps I am proud to a fault, but the people closest to me know that I am definitely a proud person. One of my greatest fears in this life is making a complete ass of myself, but I still manage to do that quite often. Yet, despite how frequently it occurs, I still cannot accept that it's an inevitable occurrence, and try to steer around scenarios that might make it happen.
Ironically, I end up in such circumstances because of the very pride itself that I hold so dearly that also causes me to fear being put in such humbling positions. I can be reserved and modest when I want to be - and in fact, it's a very natural side of me, but I feel like I'll be more of a somebody if I portray myself as confident as I can be - even if that means acting like an arrogant douche at times (more often than not in jest).
All this leads to the fact that I want to be seen as important. And I want even more to really be important to people. However true to my pride, sometimes it feels like it's just not enough. People feel like I'm heading off to lofty places, and I believe it to be true in some way. It's not necessarily the "ruler of the world" type of greatness (I'm still working on that), but definitely something that will surprise even me when I finally get there and reflect back to this point in my life in the present.
As I was growing up, I would look up at the sky at night and, with a smile, think to myself, 'I was created to do amazing things. I will show this world and the people of it the wonders of my words and actions. I'll revolutionize and inspire.' Then my mind would wander in silly tangents saying that the heavens, the earth, and everything in between were created for me in which to delight. I was such an imaginative dreamer.
Ultimately, I think I want to be the most important thing to at least one person in this world. It's kind of arrogant and selfish for me to say this, but isn't this something the majority of us seek? It would also be refreshing if I felt like someone was that important to me. I used to be like this to some, but those days and those individuals come and go like the seasons.
And as seasoned as I get, I wonder more and more if I really was like that to those who came and went. If I was really so important as I wanted to be for at least one of them, would they have lingered a bit more? Were they as important to me as I would hope they were? Would such a significance last forever, or would it be destined to burn out like the stars in the heavens and the earth beneath our feet?
I don't look towards the sky as much as I used to in the days of my youth.
Ironically, I end up in such circumstances because of the very pride itself that I hold so dearly that also causes me to fear being put in such humbling positions. I can be reserved and modest when I want to be - and in fact, it's a very natural side of me, but I feel like I'll be more of a somebody if I portray myself as confident as I can be - even if that means acting like an arrogant douche at times (more often than not in jest).
All this leads to the fact that I want to be seen as important. And I want even more to really be important to people. However true to my pride, sometimes it feels like it's just not enough. People feel like I'm heading off to lofty places, and I believe it to be true in some way. It's not necessarily the "ruler of the world" type of greatness (I'm still working on that), but definitely something that will surprise even me when I finally get there and reflect back to this point in my life in the present.
As I was growing up, I would look up at the sky at night and, with a smile, think to myself, 'I was created to do amazing things. I will show this world and the people of it the wonders of my words and actions. I'll revolutionize and inspire.' Then my mind would wander in silly tangents saying that the heavens, the earth, and everything in between were created for me in which to delight. I was such an imaginative dreamer.
Ultimately, I think I want to be the most important thing to at least one person in this world. It's kind of arrogant and selfish for me to say this, but isn't this something the majority of us seek? It would also be refreshing if I felt like someone was that important to me. I used to be like this to some, but those days and those individuals come and go like the seasons.
And as seasoned as I get, I wonder more and more if I really was like that to those who came and went. If I was really so important as I wanted to be for at least one of them, would they have lingered a bit more? Were they as important to me as I would hope they were? Would such a significance last forever, or would it be destined to burn out like the stars in the heavens and the earth beneath our feet?
I don't look towards the sky as much as I used to in the days of my youth.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Measurement Uncertainty (I wish I had the answers)
Forgive me if this entry seems a bit all over the place; it's a fair bit to cover.
A few nights ago, I went on a couple of dates - one was a setup with a friend's friend that took place in the early afternoon, and the other was an evening date with someone I had met at my university campus. They were simple dates, consisting of meals, talking, and one had a movie involved.
As a bit of a preface, I tend to have several encounters with women, and almost always the person I am out with has some quirk about them that usually leads to interesting/bizarre/hilarious results.
These two women were nice and well-mannered, with no apparent deviance that I have grown accustomed to seeing. The dates themselves didn't go wrong, but I found that the more time I spent interacting with these women, the less I felt connected. I guess you could say I was bored, but there was this tiny voice screaming in the back of my head, "You idiot! She's perfectly normal and very pleasant. Why not see one of them again?! Didn't you want someone normal!?" The dates didn't end with anything intimate taking place, but that's of little consequence... or is it?
Over the past while, I've felt that love isn't for me - either because I'm just not meant to have it, or because I shut the door on it (I'm still working over which it is, but I think I'm leaning towards the latter). Am I a victim of circumstance, or of my decisions? I wish I had the answers
I won't dance around what I've done in the past. I played the field. I used women for their bodies, like they were using me for mine (a mutual exchange). Sure, I received temporary highs when I did it, but the lasting effects left me feeling empty and like I was losing pieces of my soul. I guess you could say women were like drugs for me (PLEASE DO NOT BRING UP THAT RIHANNA SONG). If such is the case, is there something wrong with me that I felt like I needed these temporary shots of exhilaration in order to stave off some deeper issue within me? Was I fine before, and the latter consequence of my actions eroding what beliefs I previously held? I wish I had the answers.
I'll also state that I'm not particularly chauvinistic (to some extent). I have a great respect for the people I know and care for, whatever gender/race/orientation they are. Yet for some reason, I seem to label the kind of girl I usually hook up with as shallow and fake (which is probably why I act the same towards them). It only now seems to be bleeding into my mind to label any girl I wish to hook up with as self-serving.
Whatever the case may be, I don't know what I can do with myself. How can I fix it? What's scary is the creeping apathy (or is it lost hope?). Do I want to fix it? Is it worth it? This era we live in is very self-serving and I'm trying to adapt to it. If I can attract those who want me to just serve as a dildo with a body attached to it, then can I attract someone who wants and cares about me - all of me? Do I want that? I think I do? I wish I had the answers.
I'm so used to people using me for what I can do for them, and in turn I have become a lot like that for strangers. I'm used to having problems that I just push aside because I can never seem to voice them (or find ears to hear them). They generally just pile up somewhere in a closet in the back of my mind until the clutter spills out (part of the reason I have this blog). Am I becoming emotionally numb as a result of this and other stuff combined? I wish I had the answers.
I'm supposed to be this solid foundation upon which people can rely. How can I help others if I can't help myself? God, I think I'm so used to being used that I become uneasy and down when I feel like I'm not useful to others. What the hell is wrong with me? Is this really me? I wish I had the answers.
I know less about myself than I thought.
I use too many parentheses...
A few nights ago, I went on a couple of dates - one was a setup with a friend's friend that took place in the early afternoon, and the other was an evening date with someone I had met at my university campus. They were simple dates, consisting of meals, talking, and one had a movie involved.
As a bit of a preface, I tend to have several encounters with women, and almost always the person I am out with has some quirk about them that usually leads to interesting/bizarre/hilarious results.
These two women were nice and well-mannered, with no apparent deviance that I have grown accustomed to seeing. The dates themselves didn't go wrong, but I found that the more time I spent interacting with these women, the less I felt connected. I guess you could say I was bored, but there was this tiny voice screaming in the back of my head, "You idiot! She's perfectly normal and very pleasant. Why not see one of them again?! Didn't you want someone normal!?" The dates didn't end with anything intimate taking place, but that's of little consequence... or is it?
Over the past while, I've felt that love isn't for me - either because I'm just not meant to have it, or because I shut the door on it (I'm still working over which it is, but I think I'm leaning towards the latter). Am I a victim of circumstance, or of my decisions? I wish I had the answers
I won't dance around what I've done in the past. I played the field. I used women for their bodies, like they were using me for mine (a mutual exchange). Sure, I received temporary highs when I did it, but the lasting effects left me feeling empty and like I was losing pieces of my soul. I guess you could say women were like drugs for me (PLEASE DO NOT BRING UP THAT RIHANNA SONG). If such is the case, is there something wrong with me that I felt like I needed these temporary shots of exhilaration in order to stave off some deeper issue within me? Was I fine before, and the latter consequence of my actions eroding what beliefs I previously held? I wish I had the answers.
I'll also state that I'm not particularly chauvinistic (to some extent). I have a great respect for the people I know and care for, whatever gender/race/orientation they are. Yet for some reason, I seem to label the kind of girl I usually hook up with as shallow and fake (which is probably why I act the same towards them). It only now seems to be bleeding into my mind to label any girl I wish to hook up with as self-serving.
Whatever the case may be, I don't know what I can do with myself. How can I fix it? What's scary is the creeping apathy (or is it lost hope?). Do I want to fix it? Is it worth it? This era we live in is very self-serving and I'm trying to adapt to it. If I can attract those who want me to just serve as a dildo with a body attached to it, then can I attract someone who wants and cares about me - all of me? Do I want that? I think I do? I wish I had the answers.
I'm so used to people using me for what I can do for them, and in turn I have become a lot like that for strangers. I'm used to having problems that I just push aside because I can never seem to voice them (or find ears to hear them). They generally just pile up somewhere in a closet in the back of my mind until the clutter spills out (part of the reason I have this blog). Am I becoming emotionally numb as a result of this and other stuff combined? I wish I had the answers.
I'm supposed to be this solid foundation upon which people can rely. How can I help others if I can't help myself? God, I think I'm so used to being used that I become uneasy and down when I feel like I'm not useful to others. What the hell is wrong with me? Is this really me? I wish I had the answers.
I know less about myself than I thought.
I use too many parentheses...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Terminal Loss
A good friend of mine passed away the other day. She fought a good fight, but the cancer was too much for her.
I know that death is a natural process, but the impact is still surreal. It is hard for me to put into words how I feel, but I am certain many people who have faced the same loss know what I'm talking about. There is a hollowness there. It is like the person gone was a part of a painting and someone came with some thinner and lathered it over that portion. The aftermath is just a blank zone that you can't help noticing, and feel uncomfortable with it being there.
She was a kind individual, and was always able to fearlessly say the truth about how things are - with the exception of one thing (and I'm sure you can guess what that thing is). I didn't find out about what was going on with her until she was well underway with it (she began to appear less and less). I could not admonish her for it, as much as I wanted to admonish her. I would have been a hypocrite (and she would have called me out on it). There was just this silent understanding.
I wanted to grill her about all the tribulations she had to go through for her treatments (more than the superficial details one would generally ask), but for some reason could never work up the nerve to do it. Part of me knew she'd be stubborn to a fault about it and not reveal it to me, and another part was too scared to accept what was going on - too scared to hear that it wasn't going well - that her body was failing.
In the end, I never got to say goodbye (her sister was the one who informed me), which is my second-biggest gripe. My biggest one was that I couldn't be there more for her, and that I couldn't in any way contribute to making her better beyond giving emotional support (the power of which I now ponder over). It's festering within me and distracts me so often.
Now I'm left with memories. I am finding that within my life, the only truly good things I own are my memories. They are one of the few things in this world that can actually make me feel happy, if only for a bit from time to time. It saddens me beyond imagining that I will no longer be able to create any further ones with her as a part of it.
I'll miss you...
I know that death is a natural process, but the impact is still surreal. It is hard for me to put into words how I feel, but I am certain many people who have faced the same loss know what I'm talking about. There is a hollowness there. It is like the person gone was a part of a painting and someone came with some thinner and lathered it over that portion. The aftermath is just a blank zone that you can't help noticing, and feel uncomfortable with it being there.
She was a kind individual, and was always able to fearlessly say the truth about how things are - with the exception of one thing (and I'm sure you can guess what that thing is). I didn't find out about what was going on with her until she was well underway with it (she began to appear less and less). I could not admonish her for it, as much as I wanted to admonish her. I would have been a hypocrite (and she would have called me out on it). There was just this silent understanding.
I wanted to grill her about all the tribulations she had to go through for her treatments (more than the superficial details one would generally ask), but for some reason could never work up the nerve to do it. Part of me knew she'd be stubborn to a fault about it and not reveal it to me, and another part was too scared to accept what was going on - too scared to hear that it wasn't going well - that her body was failing.
In the end, I never got to say goodbye (her sister was the one who informed me), which is my second-biggest gripe. My biggest one was that I couldn't be there more for her, and that I couldn't in any way contribute to making her better beyond giving emotional support (the power of which I now ponder over). It's festering within me and distracts me so often.
Now I'm left with memories. I am finding that within my life, the only truly good things I own are my memories. They are one of the few things in this world that can actually make me feel happy, if only for a bit from time to time. It saddens me beyond imagining that I will no longer be able to create any further ones with her as a part of it.
I'll miss you...
Auditor's Report (Foreword)
I always told myself I would make one of these - so here it is.
The significance of the title relates to my career - a part of what defines me. By day (and on occasion, by night) I'm an auditor.
For those of you who do not know: an unqualified opinion from an auditing standpoint is the opinion I make at the end of an audit of an entity, and means that I have looked at its information through a test basis, and have concluded with reasonable (not full - this is important) assurance that its information is materially (also important) correct, is free from error/fraud, and follows certain, prescribed standards. This opinion is put on a report and is essentially the tangible product I am delivering to my clients - it's like a clean bill of health.
OK, that was pretty heavy; wake up. I honestly don't know why I wrote out that definition.
People rely on my opinion (and the opinions of many like myself in the same position) and use the entity's information that I have essentially said is usable to make decisions that shape and define the very economy of our world. This is a part of why I like what I do. People rely on me. People respect me. What I say - based on what I do - has an impact far greater than myself.
But enough about my work...
The other reason I chose the name is pretty much a disclaimer. This blog is not just an account of my life, but a statement of my [unqualified] opinion on whatever the topic at hand may be. But really, whose opinion is actually qualified when it comes to life? I generally like to stay on the fence (story of my life), remain objective about all sorts of matters, and often play Devil's Advocate should a side be underrepresented. However, if you are reading this, feel free to discuss/disagree with me should the mood strike you.
Many thanks and kind regards,
Ommy
The significance of the title relates to my career - a part of what defines me. By day (and on occasion, by night) I'm an auditor.
For those of you who do not know: an unqualified opinion from an auditing standpoint is the opinion I make at the end of an audit of an entity, and means that I have looked at its information through a test basis, and have concluded with reasonable (not full - this is important) assurance that its information is materially (also important) correct, is free from error/fraud, and follows certain, prescribed standards. This opinion is put on a report and is essentially the tangible product I am delivering to my clients - it's like a clean bill of health.
OK, that was pretty heavy; wake up. I honestly don't know why I wrote out that definition.
People rely on my opinion (and the opinions of many like myself in the same position) and use the entity's information that I have essentially said is usable to make decisions that shape and define the very economy of our world. This is a part of why I like what I do. People rely on me. People respect me. What I say - based on what I do - has an impact far greater than myself.
But enough about my work...
The other reason I chose the name is pretty much a disclaimer. This blog is not just an account of my life, but a statement of my [unqualified] opinion on whatever the topic at hand may be. But really, whose opinion is actually qualified when it comes to life? I generally like to stay on the fence (story of my life), remain objective about all sorts of matters, and often play Devil's Advocate should a side be underrepresented. However, if you are reading this, feel free to discuss/disagree with me should the mood strike you.
Many thanks and kind regards,
Ommy
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