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| With each day, I find that I should have more admiration for those that can be happy so nonchalantly. Is it a growing depression? More likely I am only coming to terms with reality. And yet, I pray that it is the former. I want to believe that the change of perspective I have on the present and future are diluted by ever pervasive insecurities.
In our day of social networking, I can almost feel that I am at the cusp of failure for a number of my relationships with others. I can only assume that it is my fault. Certainly some relationships were more doomed from the start than others. Still, any should be kept healthy or at least salvaged if possible as long as it leads to happiness. In my heart, I can't decide. This is probably the most annoying quirks I have, my wavering behavior. Being with her has always made me happy. But when I am with her, I lose all of my senses and grip on reality. I want to believe that we exist as a couple, though that cannot be farther than the truth. This discontinuity between what is and what I want to be instills an emptiness in me. Yet, I play charades and create the illusion of happiness when I am with her. I only work for her happiness at my own expense. It's an obvious decision and a simple observation that this would never work from the beginning. I only want it to work to comfort myself in the fact that I do have friends that I can make on my own. She would be content with her life had I been there or not. She would never openly admit to it. Brutal honesty has never been her style. If you can go a month without seeing someone, is that person really your friend? Try 8 months.
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| And so it begins...
I can already hear the shrieks of joy and cheers of congratulations followed by hugs and pats on the back. What a time it must be to be alive... I'm beginning to feel disgusted by it all. If you don't already know about it, then you soon will. It's called the engagement. Suddenly, it's as if it's some fashionable club that everyone wants to be a member of. I have nothing against it. Personally, I have always respected my friends' relationships with their loved ones and understand that they need to spend time together, whether it's a boyfriend, girlfriend or family. Yet, perhaps in my naive maturity, I didn't quite understand the consequences. I suppose becoming engaged signifies to the couple and everyone else that they're leaving to another world where only couples exist.
As the perpetually single friend, it leaves flavor in my mouth that is entirely bittersweet. Engagement as well as married life is the ultimate test in friendship so far as the single vs. couple status is considered. I feel that in my case, as the omniscient Magic 8-ball would say, "outlook not so good." Already there seems to be a trend of making promises to spend time together (that almost always seem to go awry) or not making plans all together. The worst, however, would have to be when your friends have hang outs together and you only find out only after the fact. Everything fun apparently has to be last minute or spur of the moment and, more importantly, without my presence. This just might be a glimpse of what's to come. I already have very few friends and whether I like it or not, they might disappear as they do not value my friendship as much as I do theirs. I might as well get used to it now than later.
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| And so I write. To take a moment and pause for some reflection is of no particular consequence. Has anything changed since last time? I would say no. I have taken steps to break free from the monotomy of my every day life. However, they were temporary and now I am no different from months ago. In my attempts to transform myself, harsh truths only reinforced their inconvenience. Living by myself has made me more self reliant. At the same time, I have spurned the opportunities to meet others and grown more suspect of those around me. I, for one, should know that adhering to ideals is extremely difficult, but I also wonder why some people do not aspire to reach them. Certainly chance plays a role in any one of our lives. It may prevent or allow specific incidents or events from happening for better or worse. But lately, I feel as if luck has shunned me from her view. Accidents are never happy any longer. They have to be accounted for and cleaned up.
If you do not try, you cannot fail. If you do not trust, you cannot be betrayed. If you do not love, you will never be heartbroken.
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| An invisible overcoat hangs across my shoulders. The scent is pungent and pessimistic. Lined with my doubts and insecurities, the weight proves to be a challenge to carry. I am prone to lulls of nostalgia. A past friendship often comes to mind. Certainly, I am the cause of its failure; I assure myself of this fact. Despite my good willed demeanor, my words and actions can be far more corrosive than I wish them to be. My empathy and dynamic only extend to those who are close to me and quickly plunge to those I am not able to speak to regularly. Their own worlds are delicate kalediscopes that I must ask permission to view. Feeling and touching is not allowed. They are far too personal actions. At the same time, I realize this and I should also understand this more than any one else. I am sensitive to these equally so. In disregarding the wants of others over my own petty ones makes me selfish and worst of all, a hypocrite. I have severe doubt that she would ever accept me again. I am not afraid to admit that I still possess the same feelings that I've always had for her even after that uneventful conversation. Yet, I am hesitant to ever admit it to her. In order to maintain her happiness, all I need to give her is a blank stare, if we were ever to meet. After all, there are many different types of people and there are plenty that wouldn't care to ever see me again.
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| I find it more difficult to write. Perhaps I am drowning in myself in thoughts and self-doubt, but writing itself has grown to be somewhat of a hassle. Even in forums, I find myself typing a response or probing an issue, only to close the window before pressing the 'submit' button. A simple Google search or a Wikipedia entry would suffice for most of the questions I have. There is just so much to know, and yet, it doesn't seem sufficient not to learn it. Technology, food and cooking, the arts, politics, etc are only topics that I have a very shallow sense of understanding of. There are times where I would like to be categorized as some stereotype. In a way, it would only reinforce my self identity. Am I a tech geek? A foodie? An emo artfag?
At the same time, I understand that every facet of life is important. A good artist would not only know his or her own art, but also art history, which would then lend itself to anthropology, then history, then politics, etc. etc. Artists are sometimes thought of as devoid of all science and math. However, both science and math allow them to create structurally sound sculptures. Technology, which can be seen as a culmination of scientific progress, provides more tools and materials for artists to use. Certainly, this is just an example. The same goes for anyone else.
To put an emphasis on knowledge and knowing is to give some misdirection. Knowing is a passive state. Learning is not. The actions that we take are definitely more interesting, though a good number of our actions are wasteful. The popular interests of television, movies, and music are usually passive. Often times, people go watch television or movies and listen to music. That is the extent of it. I'm not saying that popular culture is an evil root in our society. It does provide a medium in which strangers can connect and relate to each other. But this sort of passive interest is not healthy. I can see it in my own self. My love of Jeopardy and anime are typically dead ends in terms of leading me to take some action other than watching more Jeopardy and anime. My understanding of technology has helped me learn how to build a computer. With my interest in photography, I go out and explore Manhattan more than I would have normally. Even my infatuation with entertainment has led me to create shorts with friends and helped me meet new people. Sitting juxtaposed to one another in text makes it all sound much better than it is. Dare I say that this has all been divvied up into a 23 (close to 24) years? I'm sure that the impact of the time scale definitely makes it less appealing.
I want to know if I have a passion for anything. The lack of such a feeling is depressing and simply being enthusiastic is hardly sufficient any more.
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