woe-is-me.doc

Man, I definitely did not have a pleasant end to this weekend.  Got nailed going fast on the highway coming home from work, yet another speeding ticket.  I deserved it, of course, but I’m just frustrated because it seems that I’ll never learn my lesson with this.  I just really had to go to the bathroom, honestly.  And it was on the fucking highway where people practically run each other off of it, so I just wasn’t thinking.  Whatever, there’s nothing I can do about it now, it’s already happened.  Bummer!

Things have been pretty eventful, I suppose.  Didn’t really go out much this weekend, but I’ve been trying to save money.  Surprisingly, that’s going well.  Been spending time with a friend I’m getting much closer to, it’s exciting to finally meet someone that can keep up with my craziness/obsession with film and stuff.  It’s nice to realize that I am truly not the only person obsessed with movies.  To me, they are empathy machines and mandatory for me to understand my own self-expression, so there’s a certain depth I attribute to film.  Most people just watch them for entertainment, but I have an entirely different experience with it — pretty much to the point where it’s like a phenomenon that makes me come alive.  I follow the things that make me come alive.

I get these urges to develop an “official” personal website like I used to have — and reign the internet with it, but there’s only just certain times that I am in the mood for it.  Lately I’ve been having like a “photoshop surge” and totally back into the mode of creating/altering images into actual graphic concepts, and it’s very exciting for me.  I don’t believe I have the talent of most of my friends that are really great illustrators, etc, but I do feel faith in my potential to develop graphic design to a more advanced level.  I don’t aspire to be a graphic designer like as a career-goal or something, but more so to open up my eyes to my abilities and reconnect with my creative impulses.  Writing has not been a discipline of mine, except for journals.  I’m sick of writing in my journals, it kills my hand and then I don’t have fun writing in them anymore, lol.  That sounds really petty and lame, but it’s the truth.  My hand cramps can get severe, man.

Agenda for tonight is to catch up on reading and just try to work on some internal things.  That sounds so lame and hippie-ish but it’s good for me to rework my emotions and think through my reactions to things.  Everything is always so extreme with me — and by being more mentally aware of it is a good start for me so that I can begin managing it.  Eventually I realize that stress, agony, and plaguing thoughts that evade and cause me to envision nothing but a negative outcome — all are totally meaningless and useless.  Worrying does not resolve anything, even if it feels like does, or even if it feels like a necessary reaction.  It’s a non-rewarding, reductive, and habitual reaction that drives me totally mad.  Ultimately, it affects the way I cope with stress entirely.

It’s no wonder that I scare off so many guys.  Sometimes it seems like they can’t get rid of me quickly enough.  It’s not a sad thing at all, it’s something I totally understand.  If I had to spend 30 minutes with myself I’d probably get pretty annoyed.

Single life is this strange dichotomy, though: on one hand there’s this definitively independent aspect of yourself that is strong, self-reliant, confident, and redeemable.  Then, on the other hand, you’re perpetually struggling with feelings of loneliness and madness just from being stuck inside of your head all the time.  I feel jealousy toward a lot of people who I know do not deserve the guys they’re with, and I can’t stand seeing their vacation pictures and shit on Facebook.  But, I don’t know what goes on behind closed doors, and nothing is what it seems.  Still, I try to maintain the single-guy balance and realize that yes, it does suck, but at the same time I get so many liberating aspects from my life that allow me to truly grow and know myself better.  Surviving single is surviving, and I am proud of that, at least.  I am capable of enduring the idea of being alone — most people are not strong enough to establish a sense of self that is nearly as reliable.  Of course, those that are in healthy relationships, I am totally happy for them.  I just get sick of the display of it all.

 

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