Tuesday, September 24, 2013

September 24th

It's already noon on the day I was born, 31 years following my emergence from the womb. I reflect and realize that I have spent much of my time on two feet, confused with everything except what I was doing. I think that is why I chose to become a particularly romantic person; it was simpler and easier. Frustration will often convince you that what you wanted really isn't worth the effort. Twenty-four days into September, frustration means nothing to me and appreciation has usurped virtually every other "emotion" I can experience.

My life has been easy. My life has been hard. It is what it is. My life is full of affection. My life is devoid of warmth. Cynically, having no expectations is the way to go. Intrepidly, forming soft expectations really helps encourage growth in others. Ya see, I believe that every mode of interaction falls under the label of manipulation. We manipulate our words and thoughts and beliefs to fit into the mold of who we are, even as we avoid to do so, we essentially do the thing we sought to not do. As the avoidance is of you and creates a box of its own. The manipulation of nothingness is no different the manipulation of fullness. Acceptance demands that, while living, certain things may not be absolute yet still unavoidable. An invariably veritable unstoppable force.

My favorite songs "Smiley Faces" by Gnarls Barkley & "Her Smile" by Van Hunt. Those songs were greater effects on my mood, attitude and outlook than music probably should. However, I don't play them too frequently anymore.

Unfulfilled potential is disappointing. The question is do you want a sputtering Porsche that people continually attempt to steal while you aren't looking OR would you prefer a cosmetically challenged yet incredibly reliable Camry? My answer to that question has change a lot from 330 days ago. The Porsche was my idea of great engineering. And my choice was respectable because my admiration for such a fine vehicle was unparalleled. When your ambition is wounded, you need consistency and support. The Camry may not be what's hot in these streets but there are many less mechanical errors and a lower cost of maintenance. Why would anybody choose a Porsche that even the manufacturers couldn't devoid of bugs?

Am I a person who needs a great machine or an adequate machine? Form or function? Feeling of impact or the impact of feeling? Nay, there be nothing clever laying under this rock today. Just celebrating my birthday in a special way by leaving memories to look back upon and reflect with a tad bit more accuracy.

Side note: lately, I've been recalling a lot of the emotions I felt much younger in life. Memories being jarred by frustrations felt in my niece. I remember struggling with certain maths or words. Conceptually I had a closed eye and I had to try so incredibly hard to get the basics. I am hungry. Time to eat. This may be updated later...then again...perhaps not. Here's to you, 31 year old Romeo.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Response - Ability

I've written more about the woman that inspired me to avoid being drowned in despair after my break up than I wrote about the actual breakup. It mildly amuses me. On the other hand, I wonder if I'm compulsively preoccupied with this woman. What brings this about is that I wrote another poem about her today. The poems are usually cheery and hopeful. However, I can no longer discern whether I just used this as an excuse to avoid feeling hurt.

The level of toxicity coursing through my system was absolutely nasty. I had learned to live with the pain. I had gained a strength of silence. I am a sufferer. I bear. Ironically, being called sagey bear came into being because of my sweetish demeanor. Somehow, the differing meanings and usages of the word "bear" still apply. Which, in quite a few ways, led to my recent reclamation of the epithet. I find it hilarious.

I don't get any of it. Yes, I fail to grasp all of which surrounds the ongoing actions that I, myself, am taking. I don't usually just give up. I rarely give up. It can be said that I refuse to give up. But this last year...who the fuck was I? Nothing like the 30 years that preceded it. My misery was once a driving force. A desire to overcome all of the failures I've known and forgetting all the unessential fragments of my time here on Earth. But the current me? Meh...I just don't know.

I am by far more brilliant than I have ever been. I'm aware of the equivalence of my actions is "Crying during the sunniest times of my life"(to quote Phonte). Still, it feels as if I'm biding my time for something fairly large. I do not know why I feel this way or what could come to me while I'm not preparing nor prepared. I believe in preparation. Yet, look at me. Hilarious.

I don't love anybody any less than I did the day I realized that I loved everyone. I have people I absolutely do not want to be anywhere near. I do have people that it physically hurts to see. I have people I wanted to have around until forever came. Life just isn't built that way and I am angry with the fairy tale. Don't build me to be an idiot. It was very hard to overcome social programming. I am probably still resisting something that burbles beneath the surface. I cannot reflect perfectly. I cannot peer into a depth of my soul that light fails to penetrate.

Something tells me that I should have flown, drove, ran, swam, crawled to get to the sparkle when I was beckoned by her. I've grown endlessly under her via distance. I have grown in a manner of magnitudes. I have bore every lash and done so without burning at both ends. I couldn't win for losing. Now, I can't lose for winning. But what am I winning besides a spiritual battle for my very own soul? Seemingly nothing. I love her deeply. I resent her beauty(because it makes my being allured feel superficial). I have contempt with her for loving me(because somewhere inside, I feel unworthy). Tragically(was intended as in explanation but in reflection, I realized that readers would need more explaining...my apologies). I am humbled. Because I can put words to feelings that most folk cannot feel existing. I want her around me just long enough. Then again, I'd be embarrassed to be seen while I'm like this...at what appears to be my worst. My best worst.

See why I am confused? Haha. To even reflect like this is a sign that I'm still me...I've been doing this for sometime now. This weird manner of typing. I once penned newspaper articles frequently and was praised for my ability. This writing style is just a newer development. Guess it is finally time to test some limits and see how they work with me. My birthday is in 6 days. I'll be 31. It just tells me that I've spent a year being a prisoner to the freedom I've chosen to experience. I don't want freedom anymore. It's hyped up. I want to be many different kinds of prisoners, none of which require bars or probation officers.

Perhaps I'll share this and the poem I recently wrote with the person who inspired them. I'll trust her, everything she says, regardless of what I feel is impossible because I'm being stopped by minimal resistance these days. I have much need to do better simply because I can.

"Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it"
"With great power there must also come — great responsibility"
"In dreams begin responsibilities"

"Responsibility is the state of being "responsible", or answerable for an act performed or for its consequences, especially morally, legally, or politically."

Saturday, September 14, 2013

September is Odd

My mood has been completely inconsistent in September. I feel lost a bit. I mean, I'm typically all over the place emotionally but I have an anchor with a long tether. Right now, it feels like I'm not anchored; like I'm drifting without regard to my surroundings. Much better than August. I mean, I've actually got spare fire in my belly. So much so that I find myself arguing with people I have no business arguing with. I know I look foolish but what I'm attempting to gain from it is something I can't quite put my finger on. I don't put too much stock into appearances. Actors are constantly caught addicted to drugs only to rebound and have a decent career. Or a sex addicted person always seems to connect with a person they have no business being attached to sexually. Image doesn't mean shit. Sure, there is a difference but I don't expect that me looking silly arguing with fools will matter much in the grand scheme.

I also know I seem angry but it's hard to seriously engage them. To me, my words come off the tippy top of my thoughts. There is no deep thought or reflection. It's all old hat. In fact, the speed of my responses never seem to jar folk, despite how meticulous my answers are. It never fails to shock me how mindless some can be while arguing. It's like a poorly written script. Which reminds me, writing isn't supposed to be realistic. I do not know where the idea got into my head that it was supposed to be realistic. I don't know if it's as muddled for everyone else but I see nothing but people that can't get out compatible thoughts. People who mumble and stumble through the simplest of thoughts. By which means, popular media, attempting to authenticate itself with errors, diminished itself into a crass mass of indescribable mediocrity.

There is a lot about this world I won't ever pretend to get. I'm no longer even interested with those particular aspects of existence. Violence. I'm totally done with that. Insults. I'm super done with that.
I thought...no, I still feel like I'm done with anger. In truth, I may have just found a way to diminish the anguish I experienced when I was angry and now anger feels something different. Before it was hot and flushed me everywhere, soaking me in a rage like substance(I know it is nonsensical). Now, it doesn't feel much different than anything else but I would describe it as a yellowish ball with a reddish purple core, that spins slowly while I'm actively agitated. I guess that just tells me that I have much more road to walk. I wanna be the master so bad already. LOL.

So, between arguing, reflecting, meditating and engaging, I have been putting more effort to reap a physical reward by doing more physical work. I have also made a friend who I can talk to every so often. I feel like a weird, alternate reality pet to this person but not necessarily in a bad way. Like, what life could have been like type of thing. I'm okay with that. I'm getting to a point where I'll make a stand on principle no matter who I may lose behind it. I am alone now. Maybe everybody I've made some sort of connection with needs to be purged for me to find a reason to move forward. I'm heavily disenchanted with the world and my personal lot. Though I'm happy with myself, I'm not entirely contented with the options I left myself. I will be fine. Perhaps I should worry more.

I have a date later this month. It's something that was jokingly two years in the making. She was in a relationship and so was I. She made a joke on Facebook about accepting applications for a new male companion. I jokingly offered my app. We both knew it was a joke. Two years later, she moved to my state and jokingly told me she was here to reexamine my qualities as an applicant. We laughed at the joke and went on about our business. Some many months later, she apparently was more serious than I had considered OR really just wanted to hang out with somebody and hadn't met anyone she felt was worth her time, asked me. For all I know, she could have had a list a dudes and I was somewhere on there. It doesn't matter to me. It makes me no different. I was asked if I'd accompany her and I said yes. I felt some kind of way about being asked out but to be fair, it's not like I was going to ask her. I'm in a world of peace, licking wounds that I have considered long since healed. I keep forgetting how horribly stressful my life had been for the last few years. I felt a glimmer of that earlier. The absolute sickness of it...it was a wake up call. I could have died from a broken heart. I really put 99.999% of what I had into that relationship. I threw away my pride and standards as a man for a woman who, retrospectively, did not deserve the effort I gave.

Sure, she is a great human being. I'm not ever going to slander her. She is human. Does human things. Human shit happens. But nobody I've ever seen, deserves effort that compromises my health and that's what I gave. I went too far. I trusted her and trusting others hurts. Even when you feel nothing and refuse to exert those emotions, that shit is real. You can deny or accept it but the shit still has an effect. Even still, I think acceptance is the best thing going. I still stand by understanding. I refuse to budge from positivity. And I'm only telling it how I remember it. If I am wrong...then so be it. To the best of my ability, this is the unaltered truth. Not that such a thing matters anyway. This my blog, I can lie if I wanna. Who gon' check me?

So, I took a break from twitter because Yesterday, I devolved into a somewhat savage flirt and today, these folks decided they could RT me, make me look like the bad guy, and tell me off as if I were powerless to prevent any of this. I gave them an opportunity to get the message from the source. Instead, each was content to sling insults, yell and scream and refuse to listen. I deleted the tweets she had, reported her as spam and went about my day, contented to have foiled her plan to make me look like the posterboy of twitter male privilege. And I did it with a taunt: "Watch me rain on your parade".

My father is a man. I asked him what he thought about it; about the "female" is disrespectful and dehumanizing to women. He echoed much of my initial thoughts on the topic. It isn't about the word itself and neither should their outcry be about the word. These movements seek to censor the hearts, minds and mouths of the people in a land where you are free to say what you want. Especially when there isn't a personal investment, their little battle seems even more vapid. My father goes onto saying that he can understand women not wanting to being called "Ladies" because "lady of the night" or Madam because madams run brothels. Or "woman" because that too was dehumanizing at one point. It was a long series of reaches from women that associated the word as the insult instead of the usage. He took in stride that female was no different than male and acknowledge the little connotation game that a group of women are playing on twitter.

My entire purpose was to help them refine their focus and not recklessly attack people. I was trying to help them. They attacked me for having insight into reality that they refused to acknowledge. I do not know the intellectual gap between me and those ladies. I'm sure some of them had to be fairly accomplished but then again, that doesn't make you smart. Whatever. I went to my dad because he will not hesitate to tell me that I've been callous or unnecessary forsaken another's feelings. He is helping me to avoid conflict. His advice? Why bother getting involved? You know better, you don't need to, so why do it? And my response was, I may know better by definition but I do not know better by practice. If I did know better by practice, I would not engage. I'm learning this lesson as fast as my stubborn or euphemistically "determined" heart and mind will allow me. But I know I'm completely in control. I have my own agency. It is an excuse to say my heart and brain. Really, it is my conditioning and impulse control. Both of which, I have been taught to neutralize and overcome. If I fail to do so, it is a choice of regression and not one of positivity.

So, the end result was, do I truly desire positivity or do I just want to talk about positivity while doing what I want with a lukewarm conviction?

That is to say, this entire entry is literally an ode to procrastination and excuse making. And I am still attempting to capitalize on my stronger qualities while trying to allow myself to be human. I finally have a bead on what others are seeing that I don't need to ask a million questions. It is a feeling of weakness. I never knew how strong I was in comparison. But it wasn't even remotely touchable. Welp. I was better not knowing my own strengths. I gotta get back to the mindlessness. But I do know who I am so I guess that's a bonus. END.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Back in 2010 Before VSB

I was working for General Dynamics as a contractor. It wasn't a bad gig. Some of the work was about hustling but mostly, it was about teamwork. I did absolutely fine in all regards except for giving a damn about all the little shit everybody would act all dramatic about. I had people who would fuck with me and jeopardize my employment. But I make it a point to have the bosses recognize me. That's my best case scenario.

Anyway. I had a girlfriend in Korea. She began acting an ass. I just moved into a new apartment. I had purchased a vehicle and the engine blew three weeks later(earlier that year). I had my older car blow a transmission a week after that. And I had finally had that repaired. My business was getting better and I was spending even more time on the road trying to establish a great foundation for my market. I was truly in the midst of an endless hustle. Key coworkers were fired. Harassment grew worse. Girlfriend in Korea wouldn't hold conversations anymore. And the only real ray of light I had in my life was this single mother(who would eventually become my girlfriend). So I break up with Korea and everything is going fine with the single mother. She comes to visit(SM) and the visit goes great. But my boss pulls authority and claims it's a mandatory work day while she's visiting. At this point, I stopped giving a damn. Three weeks later I was laid off. I didn't think much of it. Boy, was I wrong.

My best friend at the time was visiting. It was time for him to leave and he hadn't purchased his tickets for return and asked me to help him out. I told him I really couldn't afford to help him out because of my being laid off. He promises to pay it back the next day. The next day turns into a month and then he starts dodging my calls. I say fuck it, I'm a dope ass friend. He can have that money. Fuck him. He knew I was in a shitty spot and he still fucked me over.

In the meantime, I tell SM and she doesn't give any reaction. 9 days later, she breaks everything off with tears. I get in my car to drive to my mother's house so I can relax and eat and just be around people who give a good god damn about me. I get half a mile down the street and a cop pulls a u-turn. I think it's because I'm black in a predominantly white area. He says it was my windshield being cracked. He writes me a ticket for that, license plate, and an out of date insurance card. The price of that ticket was $975. So, here I am, in a new apartment lease, no income, best friend not following through on his word, my new girlfriend(that I traded the old one for) broke up with me, big ticket and I have nobody I can really talk to. I just pulled over and wept. I felt like the world was shitting on me. Then I swallowed it and pushed forward.

That was August 2010, one of the shittiest moments in my entire life. Old gf on the phone always trying to get me back, new gf trying to push me away, money money money, jobs, stress, gay people with sexual harassments at the job I got fired from, lack of sleep, loneliness, car problems, and on and on....In September I was shown VSB. I began commenting and I was scared and intimidated but it was a good thing. Although, a lot in my life is still in disrepair, I have grown in many ways to such a point that the same problems wouldn't shake me nearly the same as they once did. My point is that how we look at things is everything to us. If we can learn to prepare ourselves ahead of time, difficulties aren't nearly as debilitating. Anyway, that's for the night.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Just the edges

I was re-calibrating my life two days ago. I make no money and I fear that I may never make any decent money. I mean, I'm not really one of those "march inside the lines" kind of ants. I buzz to my own bee. And that fear somehow pushed me out of sorts. It takes a lot to jar me but I'm glad it did. I'll never know what's coming for my next iteration. How will I grow in the future? Only way to find out is to live through it. And I am so human to think somehow, I found a way around the forced humility that is accepting failures and growing from them. Just another way to polish my humility.

I felt like a failure because I couldn't become a world famous track star.
I felt like a failure because I am over 30 with no kids...and a black man.
I felt like a failure because I have no idea what I'll do to make money.
I felt like a failure because I have no woman I can consider "Special".
I felt like a failure because I see the lives around me growing beautifully.
I felt like a failure because I haven't dealt with this last decade well.
I felt like a failure because I haven't used basic skills to fix my problems.
I felt like a failure because I show no ambition whatsoever...daily.
I felt like a failure because I live at home with my mother.
I felt like a failure because I am to embarrassed to hang out with my friends.
I felt like a failure because I ... a lot of reasons. Countless reasons. Endless reasons.

I have a dog and she caught parvo a few months back...it's a deadly serious illness for young puppies. $1000 dollar vet bill. She cut her leg open in a freak accident, I had to spend long nights finding a way to heal her leg because I could afford another vet bill. There was a flea issue. There was a this and a that and a this and a that. And I couldn't do anything about it because I have no money. No hustle. And barely give a damn. Nobody and nothing can convince me to give a damn either. I'm too content with watching the world flow by like fish in a stream. Disconnected yet aware. Not so much in a bubble but not so much in touch with anything that is widely considered "the thing to do".

Get a job? Get threatened to be fired because I don't "smile" enough or I'm five seconds late. Or get harassed because some white guy is afraid of black guys or get depended on because I'm the only dependable person. Or have car issues and still be held...ya know...I understand everybody has these issues to some extent. There is always some fuck face trying to ruin somebody else's day. And I have found some very charming responses to much of the trite interference. I just can't find enough give a damn to exert the effort to achieve an end.

Now, some folk may be curious about sexual matters. Sure, but I've never been one to allow my lower head to talk for me. Shit never made sense. I wanted to feel boobies, butts and insert myself until I erupted like Mt Vesuvius, it just never overwrite my feeling of personal pride. I won't sleep with someone I couldn't stand my child looking like. Cannot do it. I can't risk my child coming out half mentally broken, I won't be a good man. I'm trying desperately to keep myself in a position that will allow me to succeed. So, I'm moving when I say move. I still feel horrible about it. Seeing men well younger than myself with beautiful and intelligent women. I have no tears to shed about it tho. I studied Psychology like a fool. And somehow I managed to come out with bad grades like school wasn't real life. Now, when I finally want to apply to grad school, they want to ask me to take more classes. Nah. I'll just chill for now.

I really miss working out. I've tried but my motivation was at its highest point when I could go to the gym. I wouldn't miss a day, even if I slack until midnight. I was always there. Now, I no longer have my membership or the means to make it. That more than anything would get me moving again. That or a friend. But...I don't do so well with other people. People who like to exert their influence and abuse their investments. I disregard folk like that and they get their panties in a bunch. It happens a lot with women who approach me. They seem to want me to be an idiot for them. A monkey that will work for peanuts. Give me grief and give some other man the pussy. Because I'm fun to interact with but they just want a big cucumber sized dick to pogostick bounce on. (Actual words used to me...audaciously at that).

So. I see folk winning, have no idea how and see how badly I'm losing and I get a bit defeated. What's the point? I'm older, less motivated and hopeless. Or am I? This could be the moment talking. This could be confusion or delusion or frustration. Because these are just words. Words that don't necessarily fit into a universal reality simply because they were perceived. Truth is, I could be fine and just feel shitty because I saw some young asshat with a beautiful woman and a very expensive car. He earned it; I did not.

I am young, healthy, fairly intelligent, fairly hard worker, easily motivated and kind heartedly honest. Do I worry about me? No. That's why I've allowed my personal state to fall into such disrepair. I may have fallen too far but if I believe in miracles; If I believe I can pull off the impossible, then it doesn't matter how far I've fallen. I wasn't a millionaire by the age of 30 and I didn't have any kids. But there is no doubt that I am a tremendous person and I have impacted several lives. I try hard and I resist giving up until there is nothing but futility remaining. It sucks only living on the edges where either you don't believe at all or where you believe so deeply that nothing can shake you. I'm in both places and nowhere in the middle. I'm just on the edges...of sanity.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Dammed Anger

Recently, I decided to completely remove anger from my daily emotions. It has left me excessively reflective which in turn has diminished my overall exuberance. I am saddening ever so deeply.

I know this will sound weird considering the topics I have written about but women don't comprise much of what I think about in the grand scheme of strained thought. Not the remembering or the indulging or anything else, really. But the removal of anger changed that completely. I have been stuck in reliving critical moments in past relationships. My dreams were about my two most recent relationships. I have never felt so hopeless. Every woman I have been with has gotten married and moved on. That's not really the part that bothers me. I both know they cared and feel like they didn't know they didn't truly care. I know that's condescending but the rabbit hole my brain pranced down isn't something that has me feeling too comfortable.

Alright, I need to refine that statement before moving forward. Where do I start? These women swore that my presence was necessary. I swore that they just lacked perspective of the situation and swore they needed me out of connection. I guess it's true, not anybody would do but the core of the issue is my internal feelings of worthlessness. I have tried to reconcile this but it is nearly impossible. I feel great worth for my life. I feel like my abilities and intellect are worthy of note. No matter how I estimate the situation, I'm not trash. However, society has a different and persistent message. I guess it all boils down to a fear of failure/success. But in all honesty, it is probably more likely a fear of utter mediocrity. As such, I would rather avoid that much. Maybe, my fear is a reflection of my past. Always one step behind what my girlfriends demand of me. One wanted me to make twice as much as she did. By the time I did, I was on the next. That next wanted me to accept her and her fucked up family...well, I guess I never did get that one down. Don't mistreat the people I care for because I won't allow it to persist.

I don't really understand what is happening. I seem to be more lost these days when I have strong conviction to a goal. An emptiness of sorts. A loneliness I haven't known for a few years. Twitter had been keeping me somewhat connected. I just...gave up on half of my emotions. Having a huge amount of faith in people, I wasn't served wrongly. Plenty of love. But August was a low point. And I decided that I needed to pull myself out of a virtual despair-less hope. I needed to fine despair. I needed something to be afraid of. I needed fear of failure; of mediocrity; of being worthless for real.

I do not need any new friends but I'm sure I'll make some. I don't need any new problems but I'm sure I'll find some of those too. I don't need but I want and what I don't want, wants those who do not want it- namely, me. And the best chance I have of producing my own version of happiness is to prepare for whatever I have remaining. So, one day soon, I will work up the courage to run headlong into battle with leaky eyes and a raised voice; tensed muscles and deafening chatters in my thoughts. I will meet the blade as all who have come before me. I will accept however it cuts. My time was limited and I've had a good time. I've known happiness unlike the war and struggle many others have known. A little harassment, death threats and violence was not that big an issue. I have thoroughly enjoyed life and I plan on enjoying whatever years I have to come. I just have it all muddled up in the present, trying to make the most of whatever potential I have.

I am scared. I am also, willing to go as far as I need to in order to find a little slice of happiness while questioning whether I deserve even that much.

EDIT: Part II

Just 6 hours prior, I typed this up in one fell swoop of a few minutes. It pretty much flowed freely. I linger through these emotions(exceptionally rare). Typically, there is a massive release. A certain grasping of acceptance. With this, the emotion on got heavier and made me feel less in control. Such a sensation...ennui...that's the word. Every single aspect of life is in a state of not meaning shit. Utterly senseless. I can't put a finger on what life matters. All of these attached meanings drag me down because I'm not doing anything but existing. Even if I were....back to the times when I flourished...I felt nothing but a sensation of worthlessness. Because I can't change the world for the better. Because, in the grand scheme of things, I'll struggle to find a way to pay my bills without selling myself. Again, more meaning that does little to establish a significance. All of this purposeless perception. Awareness.

I'm not really angry. I'm kinda not even sad but I'd at least cop to that. Put emotions on a grid and I'm somewhere between absolute apathy and disenchantment. Being happy single isn't really comparable to being sad together. I'm ecstatic with who I am. I don't like not having a career to be proud of but even if I had a career, the way my mind is set up, I'll deflate it down to purpose and perhaps, that is my biggest personal hurdle: self defeating thoughts. Then again, I'm not the kind of person that needs a lot of directions or motivation to work. If there is work to be done, I just do it. Unfortunately, I don't see work to be done. One lifetime can't correct 1,000's of errant lifetimes. I'm amazed at people. Simultaneously brilliant and arrogantly ignorant. Talking but never hearing what they, themselves are saying. Listening but never getting the point of communication. Complaining about a problem but never seriously searching for an answer. Having all the resources in the world at your fingertips and merely whining about it. I think I'm this way too. Probably why it is so bothersome.

Look, right now, if you were to talk to me, you would walk away feeling incredible about yourself. You'd feel alright about me. I care about people. I know how important it is to feel like people care. How important it is to be touched by people verbally and physically. I understand better than I thought I ever would. The world I see now...there's no way a lot of people see this world. Just, the field of vision...breath taking. If things like this continue to happen to my perception, I'll sincerely have an indomitable conversation game.

Where was I at? Trying to give a fuck when everything I learned is pushing me toward apathy and perhaps even antipathy. It all began at August's horribleness and my adjustments really only seemed to exacerbate my feeling of "lack". Maybe this is do or die and I gotta put effort into being something better than I am, currently. Maybe I'm in the throes of my greatest arrogance by believing I'm over arrogance. Who knows. I'll know in a few years. Also, my birthday is this month. One year older.

I had huge plans for this year that just passed. NOTHING WAS ACCOMPLISHED. What is life without a degree. What is life without the highest level of education. What is life with it? I'll still be brownskinned. I'll still be resistant to mainstream ideologies. I'll still opt out of group think. Fuck it, I'm going to seriously consider joining the ARMED FORCES. Life is pretty much to that point where my feeling of futility is defeating me. I should put this in someone elses hands. I'm clearly not cut out for this "doing grown shit alone" life.

I don't even know what emotion I have and trying to type it out is getting me nowhere. I miss the days where I useta lift my emotions away. Where I zoned out and focused on getting buff because being buff would solve all of my problems. All it did was brought me more problems. LOL. I'm being negative. Obviously...I should put down the keyboard and go do something physically exhausting. I want to go kill a shark, defang a tiger, punch a spear into the gut of a hippo. Idk...

Or perhaps, I need to re-align my meditation. I seem to have fallen out of the practice. Or maybe  something else is throwing me off. Actually, this typing shit out until I get a clue may have brought up a good idea. I need to run a diagnostic on myself to see what exactly is irking my perception. What is plaguing me. I think I'm around 3,000 words. If you've read it this far, I need to buy you a drink, a bouquet of flowers or a nice video game/good book.



THE PART YOU SHOULD'VE SKIPPED TO FROM THE TITLE:


Women love the idea of me. I'm a great guy by all accounts and I'm very gentle in how I treat others. I'm good looking, employable, intelligent and honest. Every woman I've ever loved has left me. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with each of them. Tried hard every single time. Two managed to get away via other countries. The last via another man. Cool. I've covered that countless times. Here's the new part: even the women I haven't loved have found a way to knock me down a peg.

I cannot recount the many times a woman fell for me hard only to flip a 180 in two weeks. Perhaps it's my personality. Same thing makes you laugh makes you cry. It has been happening a lot lately. I know folks have triggers but when you talk to new people it takes a ton of energy. To have a new person flip out and go apeshit because they didn't like the way something sounded without regard to whether it was totally acceptable...basically, women want men to be dumb and not notice anything. They want to feel like they get away with shit(if in your head you said men do it too, fuck you, I don't care what men do, I ain't tryna fuck them...).

If it isn't that, it's some other inane qualification based on shit that should barely be relevant. And I'm not mad at them for their preferences or standards or whatever folks are calling that fuckshit. Nobody pays attention to the critical aspects of a relationship. Fuck is compatibility? Agreeing on some shit that don't matter and ain't relevant even if it did matter? Children & spending habits. That's pretty much the only significant issues. Most the other shit is background. But the women I've been indulging? Oh, they get pissed because they have a topic they like to be ignorant about and I don't like justifying ignorance. I can't see everything I do that is ignorant but if you see something, point it out and I'll listen. What's the point of arguing? I want to be better. Tell me what you see that I don't. That's how the fuck I live up to my word. Not just say some shit and not even try to do it. Imma do my best. Nobody has shit to say. I mind my p's and q's. I'm working on my writing and structure but I'm also dealing with my writing related anxiety so it isn't as particularly easy as many other things. It's a weird sort of addiction to quitting unsettling spirits. It's strong like the sensation to avoid touching fire. It's strong. And a few times I reach through that sensation, it has been rewarding and debilitating. I get better and worse. So now I have a fear of the process. Why I barely typed anything over the summer.... The last few things? I didn't even go back over them...could be all kinds of typos and shit.

This one, I cracked back open and just started typing. I think I've been typing the edit for about an hour. This is a veritable book of rambles about a feeling of incompleteness and utter lacking. I touch many topics, inconclusively and resolving to put myself under a diagnostic to ascertain a finer impetus of this looming cloud of August's negativity.

All I got is FUCK...fuckity fuckity fuckity fuckity FUCK.
Yeah, I know...I didn't finish with the women...I think they were a distraction anyway. Just a lot of gelatinous emotions. Imma go start lifting heavy shit in a lot of repetitions until I can no longer do such. This shit is a horrible feeling. And I'd say tens of hundreds of times worse than being dumped by the "love of your life". The lacking strength of the sensations are what makes it so incredibly unnerving. It's everything negative about being human. Lol. Okay...maybe I'm being a bit dramatic in an attempt to excuse my bullshit rambling. So what! Lol