Monthly Archives: October 2014

Sensibly Misinformed

You know, I find it rather funny, I get on here to write to achieve some level of therapeutic and constructive release of stress, but I don’t ever know what the Hell I am writing until I put letters in the little post title box.

The phrase “sensibly misinformed” came to me out of nowhere. As though my mind were digesting possible scenarios of write-worthy content long before it was brought to my attention. The phrase comes to mind and I know nothing of what it means. My initial thought is lied to unintentionally. Which then opens a variety of venues to explore and write about with significant ease. I could write about events in most any day of my life, granted some will be more mundane than others. I’m going to say, in that way, I am sensibly misinformed quite often, but it doesn’t seem to play a role in tonight’s pressing thoughts.

I could not rest last night. Rather I tried to a few times before getting worked up and having this lovely idea struck upon me to finally restring my guitar. That didn’t go as planned and now I have no strings until sometime this following week. Quickly obsessing over the fact I was now unable to play guitar, probably due to avoiding whatever internal conflict was making my chest a little tight, I struggled to find another method to relax. I settled on other video games and cycled back around to “Rock Band 3” thinking that maybe the music in general would help. Before I knew it, it was time for work.

Work didn’t go well either. When it rains, it pours. And right now, it might as well be raining fire, because my funds for anything other than bills going forward, are all but ashes. Since the sky seems to be on fire, pigs ought to fly. Maybe the fact that I could just get randomly seared ham steaks or bacon meats on my porch in the morning is enough to wind me down. If only…

I came home. I wanted to play with Rocket (My adorable puppy!) but, I already knew what would happen. And with a heavy sigh I sat on the couch. I thought maybe I could do with just a few minutes shuteye, knowing that was already a lie. My friend was supposed to come by to pick up a game to borrow and to also bring some cheesecake, on this note, I turned my ringer up louder to be aware of what would happen. I asked Jaslyn, my now ex-fiance, when she would be home, because I was worried about Rocket, and I wasn’t feeling well enough to take care of her. For the longest time, there was no reply. She was busy I guess. So I drifted in and out of consciousness for several hours, waking every 10-15 minutes, to glance at the time and feel nauseous before succumbing to darkness again. It wasn’t restful to say the least.

My friend cancelled the visit, but made another offer to hang out which I declined sensibly, I was in no condition to drive. That was roughly all of my communication until Jaslyn came home sometime after 10 pm. She took care of Rocket while I was flipping back and forth groggily. It is also worth note that I didn’t move things around to be comfortable while sleeping because I was that exhausted. When Jaslyn and Rocket are finally going to bed I am realizing aloud to myself that I haven’t really eaten today. So I had some pumpkin pie, being in a depressed state of mood, I didn’t really want to deal with preparing anything. And now I am up still… Wishing I could just disappear.

I have work tomorrow at 8 am, and while you could argue I slept from 4pm to 11:30 pm, that I had nearly 8 hours of sleep, as I said, it was just tossing and turning, trying to get up and falling back down kind of rest. Not very good stuff. And now, when I tried to lay down, only terrible thoughts. So as long as I can keep a keyboard in front of me and dimly lit computer screen to review the content of what my hands relay, these thoughts are kept in the distance. I fear, much like most of the times I write on this damned blog, that I won’t rest again tonight. I already know, I will likely regret doing so, and will question my insanity tomorrow as I write it off as being angry, upset, or stressed. Which is the truth, but not the whole version.

I used to write poems a lot. I used to look down on others a lot. I used to strive to make my mark as this weird character, so I couldn’t be easily forgotten. There were a lot of things I used to do. And for the longest time I thought it didn’t matter anymore, it was attention-y type stuff, and now I have a wonderful person with whom to share life, I need no more attention than this!

Well, you might say I’m on here writing aren’t I? Yeah. Red handed. Guilty, as charged. The fact of the matter is my personal relationships with friends, family, and others, are either strained, or weak enough that they can disappear with no expectations otherwise. There are a tiny few that weather the ages and still maintain that lustrous appeal. I think I can count those relationships on a single hand. Even so, I’m apparently not getting something off my chest or some shit, because I sit up right now, at 1:43 in the morning, bitching and moaning.

In the end none of this right now matters. Maybe the current happenings do impact my future decisions, sure, but then again, maybe they don’t. Regardless of the impact it plays going into the future, what is of value to me? A question I always have a hard time answering. Happiness? Yeah, maybe, but not mine apparently. I say it is, but my actions and results certainly indicate otherwise. My soul? Maybe, that lines up with my thoughts and actions a little more, but I don’t even regularly attend church, which seems the most basic in my understanding of the that whole operation.

My actions and thoughts just seem so disjointed now, as though I have another part of me to weigh possible outcomes unbeknownst to me and decide the best course of action according to its own priorities. What sort of self sacrificial mentality have I to have arrived at my current standing? To what do I owe that displeasure? Life. Ha, that’s it right? Some mildly delusional method of how I’m going to make the world a better place so that the things that happened to me, happen to no one else. Maybe in this same vein of thought, I also feel that I have lost my chance at happiness, and need to do my best to help others attain theirs. I dunno, that’s honestly a new concern I have drawn just since typing it out. It seems pretty basic, like how haven’t I arrived there before?

I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything. I know I am unhappy. I know I am stressed enough to make work a potentially living Hell each day I have it. The things I want to say I know, have a pang of “wait a minute, you aren’t sure” kind of attitude with them. I want to say I know I have friends that care (I should know, right?). I want to say I know things will get better (I do in some intellectual sense, but there’s just that itch of a thought that says, “it’s likely, but not necessarily”). I want to say that there is someone or something out there that will help me find purpose…

Things have a funny way of working out. Heavy thoughts lead to heavy eyelids. Maybe I can get some sleep after all. When I finished writing about me finding a purpose a few lines up, all I could think was prayer and God. What have I got to lose right? Someone’s looking out for me, be it Divine or Earthly in origin, God plays no small part as far as I am concerned, and I would do well to remember that.

Night all.

Two weeks in…

It finally happened. It took two weeks before I shed a single tear this time. It took a while, but it happened. I wish I could say something inspirational. But I’m just angry. I’m just so angry.

It feels like writing about this defeats the idea of suffering in silence. But what can ya do? Ya know?

I try to write about what’s going on, my hands won’t allow it. Write about the state of the world, or something else that angers you.

Yeah, maybe.

Carpe Diem.

My first experience with that phrase was in 7th grade. We had an English teacher out in the portables, the buildings with horrible air conditioning that were separate from the main building for the middle school.

I daydreamed a lot back then. I didn’t care to learn most of the time, just wanted to be elsewhere. Still, I would do fantastic on tests, I’m sure it wasn’t hard to. But I skipped around in my mind when this was presented, I don’t remember the context of the lesson either. What I DO remember is our teacher then being diagnosed with Lupus and she indicated she would likely be out for the rest of the school year. It was only a couple weeks in. I was mostly confused, I remember trying to figure out what lupus was based on what I already knew, and the only thing that came to mind was Lupin Remus, of the Harry Potter series. That sure as hell wasn’t right.

On the day of this announcement we had a sort of crossword with some of the material we had been covering. Carpe Diem being one of the solutions. I got a 100 on the assignment, despite not deserving it. I had not provided “Carpe Diem” as a solution, instead I wrote in “Carp Decem” trying my best to recall phonetically what she had said days before. I remember when we were handed them back the following week, our substitute was already in place. After getting it back, I just KNEW it was wrong, I didn’t need any evidence, despite having the 100, I knew it was off. I asked the girl on my left (don’t remember her name) what answer she got for it, she got it wrong, she didn’t know and left it blank. She asked what I got.

“Carp Decem” I say.
“Oh, that sounds right! You got it wrong?” she replies.
“Well, no, I got a hundred” I let the words fall out as I retract sheepishly.

She just provided me with a really puzzled look after that. I asked another kid on my right what he got. I heard him mention a hundred during my conversation with Lefty.

“Carpe Diem” he says slyly.
“I was so close!” I say fully realizing that was the correct spelling and phrasing.
“Yeah” he says looking over my shoulder, “I can’t believe that I even remembered. I just wrote it down in my notes and it came to me.”

Needless to say, I took my issue up with the substitute, who informed me I was close enough and should not question my grade, and instead just accept it.

I was upset that I was provided with a grade I did not deserve.

I don’t know where I was going with this…

I think it was somewhere along the lines of and evolution of the thought on how we should approach each and every day. FYI, I don’t think it’s the traditional interpretation of the “carpe diem” concept.

ADDED AT A LATER TIME/DATE:

I returned to this post because I have no one to talk to as it is 4 in the morning right now. I have to go to work in about 4 hours. Honestly, I don’t know why the fuck I feel the need to bother right now. At first it was to just have something to do that wasn’t to sit at home in misery. Now, the stress is adding up, I have constant tension headaches and pains, knots all over my body in my muscles, probably both from stress and inability to sleep well.

I need to find another outlet or some method of support, because I’m trying to get back into school and this fucking sucks.

Anyway… Carpe Diem. Seize the day right?

I feel that most people take that to mean seize the opportunities laid out in front of you. I ask people though what it would mean to them. Usually the phrase “no regrets” comes up a lot. I don’t like that thought. The fact that we are supposed to know what we will regret and not regret before hand and base judgments on that is terrible. What if an opportunity presents itself that we regret regardless? After all, the grass is always greener on the other side.

Another thing I hear is “to live each day as though it were your last”. I hate this too. If I approach each day as it was my last, I would not care for responsibilities or obligations. These things have long term benefits or consequences, and if I die today, I need not worry about them. Though, I understand the sentiment, if we did not know when our last day was, we should live carefully to be remembered fondly or something. Personally, it matters not to me. I mean, if I’m dead, I’m dead. What I did on the day I died seems hardly relevant. I can understand this from a “legacy” perspective. How you may want to be remembered, because that brings solace to you while you still live and breathe.

I myself? I like the thought of understanding and seizing opportunity. I don’t like people doing things for the sole purpose of doing them though. It’s a personal pet peeve of mine to hear people say they did something and I will ask why, only to hear “because I could”. Is that to imply that it would be impossible for you to not do that thing? Or that doing the thing is more valid than NOT doing the thing? I get what people are actually aiming to do. It has nothing to do with “because they could”, the main logic being “because they could also not”. It has to do with, they don’t know how to articulate their thoughts to explain their actions. Or at least it is not worth doing so. If it’s the latter, I feel there is no need to discuss the presentation of the actions anyway then. If it’s the former, why don’t we know how to express our very essence of being and understanding? Where is there a barrier in our language that prevents this?

I would surmise there isn’t. And as long as I’m surmising things, I’ll take a guess that people are less interested in being articulate, intelligent, expressive, thoughtful, and overall accountable for expressing a cause-effect relationship for anything that is not immediately clear to themselves.

I rant a lot. A LOT. Even if it isn’t on here. I’m always ranting. I have too many memories and too many opinions floating around to stay my lip as it were.

Anyway.. Seize the day. I think it is a wonderful idea when coupled with an overall focus for your life, whether that’s a long term focus or short term or anywhere in between, should be up to the person. I think it’s great to want to end domestic or child abuse, and a lot of opportunities that present themselves have no tangential relation to the matter. That being said, if your goal is to end abuse, whether it’s overall improvement of the community, nation or world, or just your own relationships, it should play a big role in your actions and the types of opportunities that do become available.

Me? I have no focus. I feel there are a few tragedies than any individual can encounter in life. Lack of purpose or focus, being one of them. I’ll find something, I have to remain convinced on that matter.

I’m not truly a smart person I feel. Reasonable and observant, perhaps, but maybe not as intelligent as one would perceive. I often do talk about things out of my depth, and make silly mistakes. Though, that being said, I do note any correction required to take to avoid the mistake as best as possible. Maybe that’s the only difference. My pride, while at times overwhelming, does not usually prevent me from backing down when there is evidence I am incorrect or misunderstood.

Anyway. I lost the thoughts I originally had, after getting upset a significant amount, it helps to rant a bit here and there.

For now, may the misfortunes continue. As I journey ever forward, looking back on the past 5-6 years in twisted misery, reflection, and admiration.