Firstly, that ^ isn't a typo.
As I write this, it's been 2 days - one day overdue since the occurrence.
Fine. I'll just go. I say to myself as I get in my car to go to a rock show. Friend of the band, or at least band member. Situated on the bar, I'm waiting, but not for someone - for anyone.
BREAK IN THE STORY
Attractive people. Attract, which is what they do. To be attracted to someone is to physically find yourself around them subconsciously knowing you are trying to be nearer.
When you realise you are attracted/want someone, whether it be romantically or not, it's very simple - right? - you just actively try to find ways to get closer. This is a common and very well-known weapon in my personal arsenal of "being cool" - be around cool people makes you cool. Easy.
The problem comes in not when you want - not even when you are wanted - rather when it's one-sided.
Most guys have experienced this many times, you want a girl - simple - she doesn't want you - clear cut - so what happens is eventually it ends.
With that out of the way - what do you do when you find the shoe on the other foot? When you find yourself being desired and you are...nonchalant.
BACK TO THE STORY
Surely enough, I'm approached by a good-looking girl, "Could I trouble you for a vodka-bull?" Me, feeling in a generous and outgoing mood, I go with it.
Blah, blah blahblah...
Sounds good so far, RIGHT?!
Not only do I give her a ride home and being a total gentleman - and oddly not into her - I proceed to go home, where I find myself talking to her on facebook. She proclaims: "I'm not tired at ALL - up for something?"
So I go and pick her up, we go and sit down and talk and stuff and I am TRYING to figure out why I'm not into her. To this moment it's still unclear to me. I'm not going into details with this one, but take my word for it she kept trying to "upsell" herself, which in turn, made me feel like I'm out of her league.
On paper, there is no reason I shouldn't want her... then wtf?
She's adorable, hot, pretty, smart, indie, unique and out-of-her-bloody-mind. Just my type I'd think.
In short, the next day she sent me a message among others: "I was thinking of inviting you over to sleep or something. Completely innocently" - Did not go.
On top of that, tonight we went out. I was on the brink of losing my mind. WHY wtfwtfwtf
I'm too frustrated to even finish this up yet I want to keep the integrity and genuineness of these feelings. I'm posting it.
P.S. I changed my mind, there SHOULD be a "The Game" for girls, only the hot ones
Bear - you da man: The Party Song - Blink 182
Monday, December 20, 2010
break from the regularly scheduled programming
At this point I would like to say that I will not censor myself in regards to other people I know whom I reference in these stories/thought-journeys. If I have hurt/offended anyone and they would like me to take it down (even though I don't reference anyone by name) please contact me and it will be done.
On the other hand, if you find yourself here (meaning I've either given you this address or it just got around) then know that I'm thinking of you beyond our relationship.
That will be all.
On the other hand, if you find yourself here (meaning I've either given you this address or it just got around) then know that I'm thinking of you beyond our relationship.
That will be all.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Butterfly wing
Unbelievable really, how everything affects us. What we read, eat, smell, the temperature or even what other people are feeling. As I write this I am feeling such a mixture of emotions.
Wind whistling through the window, cat purring on my lap and just got done with a quick and far painless emotional self-torture. Confidence, awareness of the lack of awareness, the will to explore things that are otherwise far too frightening to expose. Hurrah for emotional masochism. This probably seems like utter nonsense as I've not slept in a while and my face is not doing the typing for me thanks to caffeine.
Scariest thing is coming to realisation, everything is motivated by fear. Don't want to believe it - first stage: denial. Oh how spectacularly proficient I am at this, to conceal the anguish of survival. I do mean survival, powering through the sadness, anger, confusion. Feeling distant, alone, misunderstood to those around you and to yourself. Having the rug pulled under your feet consistently, to the point where you want to cling on to those things which are constant, but are too afraid they will be taken away. That's the worst, the reason why it's easier to open up to a complete stranger rather than to those who are close to you. The problem being, of course, that once you open up to them they are no longer a stranger.
So I move on, peddle the fake sense of intimacy to those victims I choose to bear this cross, initially selfishly, but far too quickly do I find myself attached to them, my brethren, my biggest weakness. Whom without I cannot get out of bed, let alone function or be "satisfied" with my existence. I am happy when I am helping, teaching, instructing, bestowing knowledge useless or otherwise. Seeing a smile which reads you helped me overcome is the biggest satisfaction I can get.
It's not about being right, rather knowing that thanks to me, they could do it. Imagine my elation when after reading through these unnamed pieces of me, my own mother learned something about herself. Perhaps I misunderstood, but just feeling that I contributed to her regardless of our relationship.
The feeling is gorgeous.
Wind whistling through the window, cat purring on my lap and just got done with a quick and far painless emotional self-torture. Confidence, awareness of the lack of awareness, the will to explore things that are otherwise far too frightening to expose. Hurrah for emotional masochism. This probably seems like utter nonsense as I've not slept in a while and my face is not doing the typing for me thanks to caffeine.
Scariest thing is coming to realisation, everything is motivated by fear. Don't want to believe it - first stage: denial. Oh how spectacularly proficient I am at this, to conceal the anguish of survival. I do mean survival, powering through the sadness, anger, confusion. Feeling distant, alone, misunderstood to those around you and to yourself. Having the rug pulled under your feet consistently, to the point where you want to cling on to those things which are constant, but are too afraid they will be taken away. That's the worst, the reason why it's easier to open up to a complete stranger rather than to those who are close to you. The problem being, of course, that once you open up to them they are no longer a stranger.
So I move on, peddle the fake sense of intimacy to those victims I choose to bear this cross, initially selfishly, but far too quickly do I find myself attached to them, my brethren, my biggest weakness. Whom without I cannot get out of bed, let alone function or be "satisfied" with my existence. I am happy when I am helping, teaching, instructing, bestowing knowledge useless or otherwise. Seeing a smile which reads you helped me overcome is the biggest satisfaction I can get.
It's not about being right, rather knowing that thanks to me, they could do it. Imagine my elation when after reading through these unnamed pieces of me, my own mother learned something about herself. Perhaps I misunderstood, but just feeling that I contributed to her regardless of our relationship.
The feeling is gorgeous.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Don't... please
Being a hero or doing something heroic is subject to bias. It has to be.
Sometimes being an asshole is the most heroic and thoughtful thing to do.
Sigh.
This girl, she drove me to the edge of my everything: patience, sanity, ecstasy, intimacy and countless others.
"I can't believe I could live without her"
This was said on 2 occasions, when it was good and after the post-breakup bad ended. Never thought I would.
It was chemical, atomic even the attraction - physical and emotional. We were both damaged and needed each other. Co-dependency you can call it. I needed to give and she, well she needed a lot, most of which I could give her. Alas, young love is doomed to fail, lack of real world experience (read: real is not used sarcastically) or whatever other reason.
"If we only met at a different time"
Ugh, this makes me visibly ill to even write. Worst of the excuses for failed relationships.
Week on, week off as we broke up and made up almost simultaneously and that kept it going, filled some desperate disfigured need for adrenaline and not for support. When that phase was over, there was a brief 2 month radio silence where the silence of the night was not calm, but frantic with thoughts, feelings and the almost incurable desire to share them with her.
Some mighty impressive self restraint -eventually - and she calls. I am cold, rude and unappreciative of her effort - thank god. This was followed by a lot of self destructive behaviour on my and her behalf.
I like to believe I was being an asshole for both of our sake's, but a part of me thinks I was protecting myself and my ego from shattering repeatedly. Either way, had it not been for that incident, this long overdue end to a relationship that was once like a pair of wings lifting up both to bigger and better things and now was more like a swamp of infinite sorrow and grief would not have occurred - this way at least.
I'm glad it did.
Sometimes being an asshole is the most heroic and thoughtful thing to do.
Sigh.
This girl, she drove me to the edge of my everything: patience, sanity, ecstasy, intimacy and countless others.
"I can't believe I could live without her"
This was said on 2 occasions, when it was good and after the post-breakup bad ended. Never thought I would.
It was chemical, atomic even the attraction - physical and emotional. We were both damaged and needed each other. Co-dependency you can call it. I needed to give and she, well she needed a lot, most of which I could give her. Alas, young love is doomed to fail, lack of real world experience (read: real is not used sarcastically) or whatever other reason.
"If we only met at a different time"
Ugh, this makes me visibly ill to even write. Worst of the excuses for failed relationships.
Week on, week off as we broke up and made up almost simultaneously and that kept it going, filled some desperate disfigured need for adrenaline and not for support. When that phase was over, there was a brief 2 month radio silence where the silence of the night was not calm, but frantic with thoughts, feelings and the almost incurable desire to share them with her.
Some mighty impressive self restraint -eventually - and she calls. I am cold, rude and unappreciative of her effort - thank god. This was followed by a lot of self destructive behaviour on my and her behalf.
I like to believe I was being an asshole for both of our sake's, but a part of me thinks I was protecting myself and my ego from shattering repeatedly. Either way, had it not been for that incident, this long overdue end to a relationship that was once like a pair of wings lifting up both to bigger and better things and now was more like a swamp of infinite sorrow and grief would not have occurred - this way at least.
I'm glad it did.
Strangers in the night
Arghhhhh... I'm sick of this pompous self affection of faux-intellectual masturbation. You won't find it here.
*except the above*
Hopefully
I was many people, feels like lifetimes apart, reincarnated again and again. There was a time where it lost familiarity, where behaviour was predictable - but unfamiliar. As the evolution progressed it never lost meaning. Everything and everyone was a part of an equation and I had to pick my "tech tree." So I look around and see many proto-types: "life of the party" "stoner" "loner" "geek" "creative one"
How do you decide who you are going to be? Well for me it wasn't simple, but it was methodical. Try each of the above (and countless others) on their own, or by combination to see what they all feel like and pick the favourite one - sounds simple enough. The problem is that each dynamic group now has a different opinion and expectation of reactions and thoughts. S#@t.
So now I learn all about first impressions and how hard they are to change, because I believe you are what the people around you think you are. Usually.
Over this lost time, string by metaphorical social string this rope of who I am braids itself. Lovely.
*except the above*
Hopefully
I was many people, feels like lifetimes apart, reincarnated again and again. There was a time where it lost familiarity, where behaviour was predictable - but unfamiliar. As the evolution progressed it never lost meaning. Everything and everyone was a part of an equation and I had to pick my "tech tree." So I look around and see many proto-types: "life of the party" "stoner" "loner" "geek" "creative one"
How do you decide who you are going to be? Well for me it wasn't simple, but it was methodical. Try each of the above (and countless others) on their own, or by combination to see what they all feel like and pick the favourite one - sounds simple enough. The problem is that each dynamic group now has a different opinion and expectation of reactions and thoughts. S#@t.
So now I learn all about first impressions and how hard they are to change, because I believe you are what the people around you think you are. Usually.
Over this lost time, string by metaphorical social string this rope of who I am braids itself. Lovely.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
truth
This is the first time I wrote something down and kept it. Brutally honest, more than I am to myself.
Be gentle.
Be gentle.
Okay. I'm just gonna do it.
This is the first in hopefully many entries into what I cannot describe as anything specific. In here, there will be my thoughts, actions, re-actions and conclusions, but not exclusively. In other words – these are my doodles.
I lose days, perhaps weeks to this nasty habit of mine. Watching the sun rise and feeling a refreshing wave of energy just gives me a naughty feeling of shame. I have nothing to wake up for, not in the suicidal or depressed sense, but in the sense of which there is no difference between right now, tomorrow or next week.
The act of doing something has lost meaning along with the feeling of free time – which doesn’t actually exist – sucks me down to the lowest pit of my imagination.
Even now, as I so-called "try" to change back into what I was, way back when I had something. Anything.
Distance is a deceiving mistress, time meshes together. The real difference is how much you miss it, how long you think about owning it, whatever it may be.
For me, it's not about the actual achievement, I think. It's not about how I got there either, I'm assuming. Rather the way I feel right here right now. The impatience and self awareness of a little child.
As I look around, for memories, for thoughts and ideas, I can't help but think about thinking and how immensely boring it is. Theme of the day – grey.
And so I lie awake, thinking, dreaming, wishing and fantasizing about a girl. A girl to live for, die for, care for and go crazy for. I know she waits for me too, wherever she may be. The distance once more, not physically, but existentially tugging at my being.
These lost feeling rushing up to surface this barren template of an existence of which I wake up to nightly. The consistent dealings of such fruitless nonsense and inconsequential discussions methodically smear my window to life, to see, to remember what I miss most. The agonizing hope that something will rescue me from it, some sort of angel. Divine I am not, at best you can say I am not the devil.
I've hidden it well, but at what cost. The chance to change this damned structure lies within – I'm sure – but I fear to think of what will answer when I knock on this door that has stayed closed for so long. Or so it feels. Without truth there is no lie, therefore with this blinding white truth that I uncover and dust off, I may be led to lie.
I hope I wont regret putting this up.
was at a strip club - thought of you
It was so surreal, unbelievable in it's simplicity and awe-inspiring. There are no words, many thoughts - most of which were culturally inserted.
I went to visit Bear, took the train so we could go out and party - surprisingly something we've never done together. With no plans in mind, just a good mindset and a decent amount of sleep I get to his place where I'm awaited with a beer. Good start.
After a bit of random youtube clips we head out - where to? Fuck me if either one of us knew where we would end up. After about an hour or more of walking around with no good bar scene to find we come across this self proclaimed "Go-Go" bar. We take a look at each other and shrug, obviously over-thinking something we have been thinking of doing for months, but never got around to doing.
So we ask the unusually casual big bouncer at the front - reasonable price. Then we get inside our own heads, end up going to a bar next to it where we are incredibly rudely greeted by what can only be described as a hag. A fat-armed, short-haired, feminist wannabe who thinks she's funnier than Jim Carrey's asshole in Ace Ventura but came off as a gigan-ormous tryhard. We proceeded to drink our unreasonably overpriced beer at this 80's style bar which was suspiciously overpopulated with dudes, but not prettyboys - if it was a gay bar, it was a low-end one at that.
So we talk ourselves into going there - done! lets do it! Now sufficiently (or so I thought) lubricated with alcohol we go inside.
As we step inside, I'm underwhelmed and yet increasingly uncomfortable - we are clearly the youngest people here (22) So we situate ourselves on a bench right in front of the main stage and I start smiling from ear to ear at all the thong-bearing strippers littered across the place. The stage is empty, I glance to my left at a stripper (probably the classicly hottest one there) giving an unhealthily fat looking man a lapdance. Bear shouts to me over the strangely ambivalent background music: "I'm gonna get a lap dance from her!" and shamelessly points at the beauty on top of the beast to my left across the stage.
Shocked at his concerningly comfortable behaviour I can't get the words out of my mouth fast enough before I'm approached by a hot piece of stripper in a dental-floss g-string and a tiny bikini top. She places her surprisingly warm hands on my lap and simultaneously two things happen in the reverse order - 1. I am overwhelmed with shock at the thought of a lapdance from a stripper 2. I perpare for a totally normal situation of a hot girl hitting on me.
Offering a lapdance and "touch anything" my self-flattery denies me of the chance at saying something semi-coherent and I blurt a syllable never heard before in this half of the galaxy. I shake my head and she indifferently turns her head to Bear and raises her eyebrows - while still basically having my eyelids a mere inch from her nipples. Calmly, he disperses of her.
As the carefully sanitized pole is being rubbed, humped, climbed and slid down the surprise of the level of the performance continues to stun me to a state of near-euphoric stupor. My complete and utter concentration at the acrobatics and well... "theatrics" is abruptly broken at the sight of a mere mortal woman in jeans and t-shirt no less. As I notice her approaching from the corner of my eye the concern of interruption looms.
Surely enough my right leg is being grinded, my shock at this obliterated my motor and speech skills - yet again! "Get your knees together so I can dance for both of you" this evil temptress commands and I must obey so I move up closer to Bear. Throughout this ordeal I have no knowledge of what he was doing/thinking/saying.
This is abruptly interrupted by a "super-sketchy" (as was decided at the end of the night) angry-looking dude. He pulls her away and they start shouting at each other or so I assume - there was a main stage performance. I spot him coming at us with a scorn across his face. He shouts: "Did you pay her?"
What is the right answer here do you think?......................
I go with the truth and shake my head, he repeats his question and follows up with a glare. I stick to my head shake and he walks away. This is followed by a long break in which we blankly stare at the stage and occasionally I try to put my thoughts into words unsuccessfully. Finally Bear turns and asks me "You'll never guess what's the time" "2 guesses" I said, "10 minutes.... or 10 hours" I had no idea. As he had to get up early, we go home, but not before coming across supersketch and the double-lap grinder.
I went to visit Bear, took the train so we could go out and party - surprisingly something we've never done together. With no plans in mind, just a good mindset and a decent amount of sleep I get to his place where I'm awaited with a beer. Good start.
After a bit of random youtube clips we head out - where to? Fuck me if either one of us knew where we would end up. After about an hour or more of walking around with no good bar scene to find we come across this self proclaimed "Go-Go" bar. We take a look at each other and shrug, obviously over-thinking something we have been thinking of doing for months, but never got around to doing.
So we ask the unusually casual big bouncer at the front - reasonable price. Then we get inside our own heads, end up going to a bar next to it where we are incredibly rudely greeted by what can only be described as a hag. A fat-armed, short-haired, feminist wannabe who thinks she's funnier than Jim Carrey's asshole in Ace Ventura but came off as a gigan-ormous tryhard. We proceeded to drink our unreasonably overpriced beer at this 80's style bar which was suspiciously overpopulated with dudes, but not prettyboys - if it was a gay bar, it was a low-end one at that.
So we talk ourselves into going there - done! lets do it! Now sufficiently (or so I thought) lubricated with alcohol we go inside.
As we step inside, I'm underwhelmed and yet increasingly uncomfortable - we are clearly the youngest people here (22) So we situate ourselves on a bench right in front of the main stage and I start smiling from ear to ear at all the thong-bearing strippers littered across the place. The stage is empty, I glance to my left at a stripper (probably the classicly hottest one there) giving an unhealthily fat looking man a lapdance. Bear shouts to me over the strangely ambivalent background music: "I'm gonna get a lap dance from her!" and shamelessly points at the beauty on top of the beast to my left across the stage.
Shocked at his concerningly comfortable behaviour I can't get the words out of my mouth fast enough before I'm approached by a hot piece of stripper in a dental-floss g-string and a tiny bikini top. She places her surprisingly warm hands on my lap and simultaneously two things happen in the reverse order - 1. I am overwhelmed with shock at the thought of a lapdance from a stripper 2. I perpare for a totally normal situation of a hot girl hitting on me.
Offering a lapdance and "touch anything" my self-flattery denies me of the chance at saying something semi-coherent and I blurt a syllable never heard before in this half of the galaxy. I shake my head and she indifferently turns her head to Bear and raises her eyebrows - while still basically having my eyelids a mere inch from her nipples. Calmly, he disperses of her.
As the carefully sanitized pole is being rubbed, humped, climbed and slid down the surprise of the level of the performance continues to stun me to a state of near-euphoric stupor. My complete and utter concentration at the acrobatics and well... "theatrics" is abruptly broken at the sight of a mere mortal woman in jeans and t-shirt no less. As I notice her approaching from the corner of my eye the concern of interruption looms.
Surely enough my right leg is being grinded, my shock at this obliterated my motor and speech skills - yet again! "Get your knees together so I can dance for both of you" this evil temptress commands and I must obey so I move up closer to Bear. Throughout this ordeal I have no knowledge of what he was doing/thinking/saying.
This is abruptly interrupted by a "super-sketchy" (as was decided at the end of the night) angry-looking dude. He pulls her away and they start shouting at each other or so I assume - there was a main stage performance. I spot him coming at us with a scorn across his face. He shouts: "Did you pay her?"
What is the right answer here do you think?......................
I go with the truth and shake my head, he repeats his question and follows up with a glare. I stick to my head shake and he walks away. This is followed by a long break in which we blankly stare at the stage and occasionally I try to put my thoughts into words unsuccessfully. Finally Bear turns and asks me "You'll never guess what's the time" "2 guesses" I said, "10 minutes.... or 10 hours" I had no idea. As he had to get up early, we go home, but not before coming across supersketch and the double-lap grinder.
and then there was blog
She is crazy. Then again, they were all crazy.
Lets not start at the beginning.
Lets not start at the beginning.
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