So I have found it, at last the answer. Thanks to David Wong (alias) and his insightful article at Cracked.com.
Answer or answers, in my case is more answers, plural.
To the question of why am I so goddamned lazy and sloppy in my personal life? Yet I know I am hard-working I have shown it at work, I know this, yet I cannot bring myself to do it, or I do it only sparingly. I have been analysing myself and my life and writing about it, yet I couldn't quite make it out. I could, and did, point lots of fingers, to myself included, but could not pinpoint the ultimate final reason.
But now I know. It's because misery is comfortable, and happiness takes effort. And it takes courage to break free of the misery. And I have not had the courage to do it. And because I haven't had the courage to do it, and because I haven't done enough, I hate myself for it.
It is as simple as that.
And what follows from that realisation, from this dawning, is another answer, one that I had already partially fathomed out myself.
The answer to the never quite formed or written down question: why am I alone and why am I different from those people that easily find girlfriends? Or happiness? A friend asked me once, will you never find happiness? (I didn't answer you M, because I had never phrased it like that in my mind). For the answer is, in the end, the same. If I hate myself for it, and if I hate my life or parts of it then how could anyone else want spend time with me? Because that is what is needed to find a partner, someone that wants to spend time with you to be part of your life.
If you don't want to be in your life half the time why would anyone else? Why would they want to be a part of it? Even if they don't know the particulars you must exude it, from comments and body language and other.
Again, it is that simple.
So, yes, change is needed. I have known this for some time. I just couldn't figure out exactly where and or why even though I felt it, and it is why the only solution I could ever see was a radical and complete change, but that is even scarier and harder to make happen!
So, little changes. Little things. What do I really want? I don't know, but I have always wanted to make a difference and help people, well let's start there. I may not be able to be a doctor but there are other ways to help. Not because I am selfish and I want to feel good, but because I like to help and I think I would be good, and in the end if you help someone they've been helped. It's a win win, I don't know how I have ever managed to rationalise it into not doing it.
That's step 1. Step 2 is to create something. I love to write. I do and I have used it as an escape to work things out. Which is fine, but it's for personal consumption, and very dear friends. It's time to create, and actually do it. The idea is there, it has been for so many years, and I even wrote the titles, so, let's just do it.
Step 2 done, onto Step 3. Learn something new. Well I have already signed up for it and did very little about it and almost gave up on it. Why? Is the reason now less valid than when I signed up for it? No, so, let's just crack on with it.
Step 4. Enable steps 2 and 3. I don't have "time" to do them, because it's too easy to be distracted by television. Well let's have the courage to do one thing and cancel cable. This will "create" a lot of time that can be used for learning and creating and helping.
It's scary. It's kind of monumental. But I have to do it. I am going to do it. Very recently I wrote about choices. The choice to have a fancy phone, and to have a car and to have cable tv. Well, I may well still need the car if I need to find a job out of town, but the other two I do not really need, however I may be tied to a phone contract for a few more months. But cable, sorry but you're going.
And this is it. I have worked it out. Not on my own. But I have. I know the answers and the reasons and what I need to do. I just got to do it. So I stop hating myself, or at least part or parts of me.
And therefore, this may well be the last post on this blog. Maybe it will, maybe it will not. But this was an exercise in exorcising demons and writing for the sake of it. Well, I think the demons are well and truly out and I have worked out a lot of things, on my own and with help from friends, and I wrote, pretty regularly, so the reason of its being may be over.
Maybe it is maybe it isn't. Maybe I'll write a different blog. If I have the time.
Goodbye 2012 and the last 35 years. Hello 2013 and the rest of my life.
PS - M, este e' realmente, e verdadeirament, uma epifania. Ufa, andei tanto tempo ha' procura dela! Mas suponho que so' se tenha uma vez na vida, se for assim, tive-a agora.
Why write this blog
- P
- It is a way of giving my other self, my unconscious and perhaps artistic self, a way of expressing itself, and thereby helping me working things out. It is somewhat cathartic in a positive way. :)
26 December, 2012
Significado do Natal
As palavras não são minhas mas não podia concordar mais: prendas e doces é tudo muito bom mas... só tem significado com a família toda reunida à volta da mesa.
Sem dúvida estás mais velho, mas ainda és suficientemente novo H, no entanto já tens grande sabedoria!
Também concordo, se bem que parte da minha família ... enfim.
A outra parte, gostava de aí ter estado convosco, seria como um novo Natal para mim.
Suspiro.
Talvez para o ano?
Sem dúvida estás mais velho, mas ainda és suficientemente novo H, no entanto já tens grande sabedoria!
Também concordo, se bem que parte da minha família ... enfim.
A outra parte, gostava de aí ter estado convosco, seria como um novo Natal para mim.
Suspiro.
Talvez para o ano?
23 December, 2012
End of the month end of the year
It's 6 o'clock and I feel like the day is over
It's 6 o'clock and I could easily just go to bed
It's Sunday and the world has passed me by
It's Sunday and life is passing me by
It's the last month at the end of the year
And the end of the world did not come
It's Christmas but it's just another day
Another Christmas in my life
Another Christmas that is passing me by
It's Christmas and it should be every day
Another Christmas
Another year
And 2009 is 3 years away
It's December
It's Sunday
It's Christmas time
It's the end of the year
Where is my Christmas?
Where is my new year?
Where is... my life?
Where am I?
In this world of holidays and family and relationships?
I am here and nowhere
It's the end of the year
But it's not the end of the world
Can I, next year, be somewhere?
It's 6 o'clock and I could easily just go to bed
It's Sunday and the world has passed me by
It's Sunday and life is passing me by
It's the last month at the end of the year
And the end of the world did not come
It's Christmas but it's just another day
Another Christmas in my life
Another Christmas that is passing me by
It's Christmas and it should be every day
Another Christmas
Another year
And 2009 is 3 years away
It's December
It's Sunday
It's Christmas time
It's the end of the year
Where is my Christmas?
Where is my new year?
Where is... my life?
Where am I?
In this world of holidays and family and relationships?
I am here and nowhere
It's the end of the year
But it's not the end of the world
Can I, next year, be somewhere?
22 December, 2012
September 1997
As I listen to Fun's We Are Young I am driving past what was the first street I walked in Leicester back in 1997 when I first came to England.
It's difficult to cast your mind back and remember what you were like and what I was feeling and what the mindset was.
I like to think I was more determined back then and full of confidence but I'm not sure that's exactly true, I think that came after living here, in England, and experiencing this new culture, new attitudes and university, its life and its lectures.
I think I was actually very low in confidence when I first arrived, fresh if 19 years old. Slightly scared, more bemused than scared and somewhat determined, I think I took it all quite naturally.
That day I waited on this very street, outside my friends house, the only address I had, I didn't even know where the university was or the campus in Scraptoft. I waited for ages, I had come a week late and my friend was in lectures. I remember clearly reading the Leicester Mercury (don't remember how I had it!) and reading about Leicester City football players, I didn't recognise a single player lol, now I could name half the squad from back then, of course winning the league Cup and having a league parade through the city centre helped ;)
I remember finding my friends place very strange, a room with a mini-kitchen, then shared bathrooms in the house. But then I got to campus and my room and the rest is history.
Every time I drive through here it reminds me of those days on my first year, that first day and other times visiting and spending time with the other Portuguese friends that were here.
It's difficult to cast your mind back and remember what you were like and what I was feeling and what the mindset was.
I like to think I was more determined back then and full of confidence but I'm not sure that's exactly true, I think that came after living here, in England, and experiencing this new culture, new attitudes and university, its life and its lectures.
I think I was actually very low in confidence when I first arrived, fresh if 19 years old. Slightly scared, more bemused than scared and somewhat determined, I think I took it all quite naturally.
That day I waited on this very street, outside my friends house, the only address I had, I didn't even know where the university was or the campus in Scraptoft. I waited for ages, I had come a week late and my friend was in lectures. I remember clearly reading the Leicester Mercury (don't remember how I had it!) and reading about Leicester City football players, I didn't recognise a single player lol, now I could name half the squad from back then, of course winning the league Cup and having a league parade through the city centre helped ;)
I remember finding my friends place very strange, a room with a mini-kitchen, then shared bathrooms in the house. But then I got to campus and my room and the rest is history.
Every time I drive through here it reminds me of those days on my first year, that first day and other times visiting and spending time with the other Portuguese friends that were here.
15 December, 2012
No title
I keep looking...
For something
An answer
A reply
An epiphany
An unknown
I keep looking
On my phone
Obsessively
Unconsciously almost
For something
I keep looking
Staring at the visor
In and out of apps
Checking news
Checking status
And tweets
For something
I keep looking
But it's never there
There's never something
Only nothing
Because I don't know what it is
That I am looking for
But
I keep looking
And hoping
That nothing
Will become something
One day
Somehow
For something
An answer
A reply
An epiphany
An unknown
I keep looking
On my phone
Obsessively
Unconsciously almost
For something
I keep looking
Staring at the visor
In and out of apps
Checking news
Checking status
And tweets
For something
I keep looking
But it's never there
There's never something
Only nothing
Because I don't know what it is
That I am looking for
But
I keep looking
And hoping
That nothing
Will become something
One day
Somehow
11 December, 2012
Who's nice?
People think I'm nice. Apparently. They tell me this, freely, and rather quite frequently.
And in a lot of ways I buy in to this. And I can even act the part.
But I'm not nice. In fact I'm not a nice person at all. People that say that, generally don't know me, they've only ever seen the mask. They think they know me because I'm voluntarious and don't mind doing a favour.
The truth is, is that it's all to make me feel better and superior. I am actually quite arrogant and self-aggrandising. I play the victim role so well, just like I learned from my mother. Whom I use, to deposit a lot of blame and therefore eschewing responsibility from myself.
There's many ways I'm not a good person. I'm pretty selfish and self-involved. I like to do what I feel like and when I don't I get moody. And I even throw tantrums. Because in fact I'm also quite immature.
I am socially awkward because I'm too much of a coward to tell people that actually they're talking bullshit or that their conversation is boring and that ultimately I don't actually like their company all that much but because I don't have many friends I put up with it. That outright deceit is one of my worst qualities.
I'm also insufferable. I complain and whine all the time about a lot of things and people get fed up hearing me whinging. It's very rare that I'm positive, I'm quite cynical and therefore quite negative about most things. Because I know this and because it can be offensive and I'm too much of a coward to deal with it I tend to say very little and thus people think I'm just nice because I'm not on the whole loud and obnoxious.
But I can be cruel and tactless under the guise of telling the truth at all costs. Which is quite hypocritical because I hate it when they do it to me.
I am really quite nasty and I have a vengeful rancourous streak in me. When people upset or hurt me I want to do the same back even if it was unintentional. Even more so because it annoys me that people that should know me seemingly don't and thereby causing the hurt that I felt should have been avoidable. This is because I am way over-sensitive and ignorant to other people's feelings.
I play the listener card well and advise out of all the tricks learnt on films whilst throwing in a good dose of tough love to come out as wise but that is nothing but a superiority complex.
So, in essence, I would not describe me as nice. Because in reality I am not very nice at all.
I am selfish, and arrogant and prepotent, stubborn, always think I'm right and I despise most people.
That's the truth.
And in a lot of ways I buy in to this. And I can even act the part.
But I'm not nice. In fact I'm not a nice person at all. People that say that, generally don't know me, they've only ever seen the mask. They think they know me because I'm voluntarious and don't mind doing a favour.
The truth is, is that it's all to make me feel better and superior. I am actually quite arrogant and self-aggrandising. I play the victim role so well, just like I learned from my mother. Whom I use, to deposit a lot of blame and therefore eschewing responsibility from myself.
There's many ways I'm not a good person. I'm pretty selfish and self-involved. I like to do what I feel like and when I don't I get moody. And I even throw tantrums. Because in fact I'm also quite immature.
I am socially awkward because I'm too much of a coward to tell people that actually they're talking bullshit or that their conversation is boring and that ultimately I don't actually like their company all that much but because I don't have many friends I put up with it. That outright deceit is one of my worst qualities.
I'm also insufferable. I complain and whine all the time about a lot of things and people get fed up hearing me whinging. It's very rare that I'm positive, I'm quite cynical and therefore quite negative about most things. Because I know this and because it can be offensive and I'm too much of a coward to deal with it I tend to say very little and thus people think I'm just nice because I'm not on the whole loud and obnoxious.
But I can be cruel and tactless under the guise of telling the truth at all costs. Which is quite hypocritical because I hate it when they do it to me.
I am really quite nasty and I have a vengeful rancourous streak in me. When people upset or hurt me I want to do the same back even if it was unintentional. Even more so because it annoys me that people that should know me seemingly don't and thereby causing the hurt that I felt should have been avoidable. This is because I am way over-sensitive and ignorant to other people's feelings.
I play the listener card well and advise out of all the tricks learnt on films whilst throwing in a good dose of tough love to come out as wise but that is nothing but a superiority complex.
So, in essence, I would not describe me as nice. Because in reality I am not very nice at all.
I am selfish, and arrogant and prepotent, stubborn, always think I'm right and I despise most people.
That's the truth.
10 December, 2012
My life
It would be nice if people were interested in my life.
Interested in me.
Just as I am.
Tell them Bridget.
Interested in me.
Just as I am.
Tell them Bridget.
Rip it up
Choices, we all have choices.
We can all choose.
We have the freedom to choose.
It may not look like it at times, but we do. We can choose to do things.
We can choose to do right things or wrong things. Just because something isn't allowed by law or permissible or acceptable in society it doesn't mean you can't, physically, do them. We're just afraid of the consequences, prison, fines, fear of being socially shunned, whichever, whatever. Everyone makes their choice and there as many choices as there are people in the world.
Before going off too philosophical and on a tangent that is not my point today.
I look at my situation today and the majority of it is due to choices I've made irrespective of my awareness of some of their consequences at the time.
But regardless of my way here, my present and my way onward is still largely dependent upon my choices. It's not in my power to force someone to give me a job but it is within my power who and where I apply for a job.
My current situation is one where I can carefully balance the books but there isn't a lot extra, money wise. This may seem at first glance precarious and it is, in a way. It is precarious because I earn just about enough for the life I choose to lead.
And this the key, the life I choose to lead.
I could instantly make tons of money tomorrow. Well, in a manner if speaking. I could certainly raise a few hundred pounds in the next few days or even thousands. Furthermore, on top of that I could save myself about a quarter thousand pounds a month.
In order, this is what I could do: I could sell my car, that should rake in at least £1,000 perhaps. That, in turn, would save me £70 a month in car insurance. Secondly, I could cancel my cable TV, landline and Internet, that would save me £80 a month. Since we're at it, I could sell my mobile phone and cancel my contract, that's another £50 plus whatever phone charges I accrue monthly. That's about £200, let's throw in the petrol money I would save and call it £250.
I could do all this and accumulate some money very quickly. But I chose not to.
That's because I choose to have the facility of having a car and being able to drive. It's not something I desperately need, currently, but I chose to own a car. Because there may be jobs where I would need one to travel. And because I like having a car. I feel like I am an adult. This may perhaps be foolish but it's a choice I make. It's my choice.
I chose also to have a mobile phone. I don't need need one. I didn't have one for five years I know what I'm saying. But I also know what I'm missing if I do not have one. I know that these days everyone has a mobile and furthermore everyone communicates through text messages. On another level I choose to have a mobile with Internet. Because I know that people communicate also through social media, which requires Internet, (Facebook and Twitter). Out of all the mobiles with Internet, the so-called smartphones I choose to have an iPhone. It's not because I like to show off, it's because I like how it looks how it works and what use I put to it. I choose to have an iPhone because its a very efficient portable computer. I use it very little as a phone as a matter of fact. I use it to read the news. And to listen to music. And check my emails. It's a choice I make. I don't have to, but I want to lead a life where I own one, because it allows me to do the things I like. It's my choice.
It's the same thing with cable. I don't need it. But I like watching television. And I like being able to watch sports. And having the Internet at home so I can use the wi-if on my phone. I choose to watch television when I get home. It's my choice.
I don't need any of these things. They're not food. Or electricity. Or water. Or heating. Or shelter (rent). But I choose to have them. It's my choice.
I choose to have a life with these things in it. And therefore, I endeavour to find a job that allows me to have them. And I want to continue to have them and I am prepared to do some financial exercise to ensure that I can carry on having them.
It's a choice. My choice. One that I have made and continue to make on a daily basis.
This is because without television, and Internet, and music my life would be a lot poorer. I think. I believe. I could be wrong, but the fact of the matter is that I don't have enough friends and enough of a social life to keep me busy outside of work to allow me to not need these things.
I do not have any other priorities in my life and I bore easily. There's only me and no one else to think about, and I need to be entertained when I'm not at work because otherwise I wouldn't know what to do with myself.
Actually I do. I would think, a lot. In fact, I would probably obsess over my life and my shortcomings. And I would despair. Not fleetingly and on occasions write to compensate. No, I would write all the time and despair constantly. Because that would be self-reinforcing. And I know where that spiral would lead.
I still do, despair. And get sad. And ultimately hopeless. I'm on the arm of the spiral and I don't want to descend into it. And so, I get over it, even if only temporarily. I get distracted. I escape. Into other worlds. On TV. And Sports. And music. And that allows to plough through and carry on. Hoping that it'll get better. I'm not sure I could carry on otherwise.
Maybe I've got issues. Maybe I've got deeper issues than I previously thought I had. Or maybe they are more serious than I have thought they were.
I don't know. Maybe I could change. Maybe I could change radically. I could change my life instantly and with little effort.
But at what cost? Would that other life be different than I envisage? Could it be better rather than worse? And what if the grass isn't greener on that side, as it is so often proven,?
I don't know which I'm most afraid of: change or not change. Well clearly change, otherwise I would have done it, but where is this one leading?
Is it leading somewhere or nowhere?
Am I prepared to risk it and rip this life apart to discover?
We can all choose.
We have the freedom to choose.
It may not look like it at times, but we do. We can choose to do things.
We can choose to do right things or wrong things. Just because something isn't allowed by law or permissible or acceptable in society it doesn't mean you can't, physically, do them. We're just afraid of the consequences, prison, fines, fear of being socially shunned, whichever, whatever. Everyone makes their choice and there as many choices as there are people in the world.
Before going off too philosophical and on a tangent that is not my point today.
I look at my situation today and the majority of it is due to choices I've made irrespective of my awareness of some of their consequences at the time.
But regardless of my way here, my present and my way onward is still largely dependent upon my choices. It's not in my power to force someone to give me a job but it is within my power who and where I apply for a job.
My current situation is one where I can carefully balance the books but there isn't a lot extra, money wise. This may seem at first glance precarious and it is, in a way. It is precarious because I earn just about enough for the life I choose to lead.
And this the key, the life I choose to lead.
I could instantly make tons of money tomorrow. Well, in a manner if speaking. I could certainly raise a few hundred pounds in the next few days or even thousands. Furthermore, on top of that I could save myself about a quarter thousand pounds a month.
In order, this is what I could do: I could sell my car, that should rake in at least £1,000 perhaps. That, in turn, would save me £70 a month in car insurance. Secondly, I could cancel my cable TV, landline and Internet, that would save me £80 a month. Since we're at it, I could sell my mobile phone and cancel my contract, that's another £50 plus whatever phone charges I accrue monthly. That's about £200, let's throw in the petrol money I would save and call it £250.
I could do all this and accumulate some money very quickly. But I chose not to.
That's because I choose to have the facility of having a car and being able to drive. It's not something I desperately need, currently, but I chose to own a car. Because there may be jobs where I would need one to travel. And because I like having a car. I feel like I am an adult. This may perhaps be foolish but it's a choice I make. It's my choice.
I chose also to have a mobile phone. I don't need need one. I didn't have one for five years I know what I'm saying. But I also know what I'm missing if I do not have one. I know that these days everyone has a mobile and furthermore everyone communicates through text messages. On another level I choose to have a mobile with Internet. Because I know that people communicate also through social media, which requires Internet, (Facebook and Twitter). Out of all the mobiles with Internet, the so-called smartphones I choose to have an iPhone. It's not because I like to show off, it's because I like how it looks how it works and what use I put to it. I choose to have an iPhone because its a very efficient portable computer. I use it very little as a phone as a matter of fact. I use it to read the news. And to listen to music. And check my emails. It's a choice I make. I don't have to, but I want to lead a life where I own one, because it allows me to do the things I like. It's my choice.
It's the same thing with cable. I don't need it. But I like watching television. And I like being able to watch sports. And having the Internet at home so I can use the wi-if on my phone. I choose to watch television when I get home. It's my choice.
I don't need any of these things. They're not food. Or electricity. Or water. Or heating. Or shelter (rent). But I choose to have them. It's my choice.
I choose to have a life with these things in it. And therefore, I endeavour to find a job that allows me to have them. And I want to continue to have them and I am prepared to do some financial exercise to ensure that I can carry on having them.
It's a choice. My choice. One that I have made and continue to make on a daily basis.
This is because without television, and Internet, and music my life would be a lot poorer. I think. I believe. I could be wrong, but the fact of the matter is that I don't have enough friends and enough of a social life to keep me busy outside of work to allow me to not need these things.
I do not have any other priorities in my life and I bore easily. There's only me and no one else to think about, and I need to be entertained when I'm not at work because otherwise I wouldn't know what to do with myself.
Actually I do. I would think, a lot. In fact, I would probably obsess over my life and my shortcomings. And I would despair. Not fleetingly and on occasions write to compensate. No, I would write all the time and despair constantly. Because that would be self-reinforcing. And I know where that spiral would lead.
I still do, despair. And get sad. And ultimately hopeless. I'm on the arm of the spiral and I don't want to descend into it. And so, I get over it, even if only temporarily. I get distracted. I escape. Into other worlds. On TV. And Sports. And music. And that allows to plough through and carry on. Hoping that it'll get better. I'm not sure I could carry on otherwise.
Maybe I've got issues. Maybe I've got deeper issues than I previously thought I had. Or maybe they are more serious than I have thought they were.
I don't know. Maybe I could change. Maybe I could change radically. I could change my life instantly and with little effort.
But at what cost? Would that other life be different than I envisage? Could it be better rather than worse? And what if the grass isn't greener on that side, as it is so often proven,?
I don't know which I'm most afraid of: change or not change. Well clearly change, otherwise I would have done it, but where is this one leading?
Is it leading somewhere or nowhere?
Am I prepared to risk it and rip this life apart to discover?
30 November, 2012
Everything ends
Everything comes to an end, eventually, even time and the universe according to some physicists.
Life goes on they say. It's true. There is a circle of life, of events, an inexorable passage of time where things are not meant to last.
How long of course it depends on perception, time as we all know is relative, thanks Albert.
Lives end, loves are lost, matter transforms. There's little that's immutable.
I could talk about some deep philosophical matters right here right now.
But I'm not. I'm gonna talk about triviality and daily life and daily routines.
I love television. Almost as much as I love books. Although very few television programs touch me deeply because it's hard to make a connection, with actors you've seen in other stuff, and with something you watch weekly. But I've had a few. ER without a doubt was my first, when Dr. Green fell ill and eventually died of cancer it was like it was somebody I knew. The West Wing was another incredible show that when it ended I knew there was a void that would be difficult to fill. The Wire I loved but because each series was a contained story it didn't feel too bad.
Books there's been plenty. Lord of the Rings. Baxter's Xelee sequence or the Manifold trilogy or pretty much every series he's wrote. Single volume novels also, Hundred years of solitude, Eleven minutes, and so many others, when I read I get into the story, if the book is really good I get into it fully and completely. I love books and I love reading, always have, since I was a little kid, since I remember me being myself I've always had my head buried in books. That will never go away and nothing will ever change my relationship with books.
Television is different, it's more immediate, there's faces, real people, body language, great acting. And it takes you there quicker. Sometimes in an episode, sometimes in a film or even a documentary or news, but when we say television, we mean serialised TV.
And Friday Night Lights is up there for me. I can't explain it. I think perhaps it's the tone of the whole thing. Maybe it's the storylines or the acting or the characters. It could be the seemingly accurate portrayal of midland America. Maybe it's the whole thing.
I don't know. I think there is a wistfulness that it resonates with what I currently feel, the theme of lost opportunities buy with a tenuous semblance of hope that just keeps you going, a kind of understated minimal optimism that somehow things will work out, even if you don't know how or simple because they have to. Or you have to believe they have to to carry on.
Whatever it is I'm going to miss it. It's going to leave a hole in my life. I'm going to watch its last episode now, it's been great.
Life goes on they say. It's true. There is a circle of life, of events, an inexorable passage of time where things are not meant to last.
How long of course it depends on perception, time as we all know is relative, thanks Albert.
Lives end, loves are lost, matter transforms. There's little that's immutable.
I could talk about some deep philosophical matters right here right now.
But I'm not. I'm gonna talk about triviality and daily life and daily routines.
I love television. Almost as much as I love books. Although very few television programs touch me deeply because it's hard to make a connection, with actors you've seen in other stuff, and with something you watch weekly. But I've had a few. ER without a doubt was my first, when Dr. Green fell ill and eventually died of cancer it was like it was somebody I knew. The West Wing was another incredible show that when it ended I knew there was a void that would be difficult to fill. The Wire I loved but because each series was a contained story it didn't feel too bad.
Books there's been plenty. Lord of the Rings. Baxter's Xelee sequence or the Manifold trilogy or pretty much every series he's wrote. Single volume novels also, Hundred years of solitude, Eleven minutes, and so many others, when I read I get into the story, if the book is really good I get into it fully and completely. I love books and I love reading, always have, since I was a little kid, since I remember me being myself I've always had my head buried in books. That will never go away and nothing will ever change my relationship with books.
Television is different, it's more immediate, there's faces, real people, body language, great acting. And it takes you there quicker. Sometimes in an episode, sometimes in a film or even a documentary or news, but when we say television, we mean serialised TV.
And Friday Night Lights is up there for me. I can't explain it. I think perhaps it's the tone of the whole thing. Maybe it's the storylines or the acting or the characters. It could be the seemingly accurate portrayal of midland America. Maybe it's the whole thing.
I don't know. I think there is a wistfulness that it resonates with what I currently feel, the theme of lost opportunities buy with a tenuous semblance of hope that just keeps you going, a kind of understated minimal optimism that somehow things will work out, even if you don't know how or simple because they have to. Or you have to believe they have to to carry on.
Whatever it is I'm going to miss it. It's going to leave a hole in my life. I'm going to watch its last episode now, it's been great.
27 November, 2012
The past shapes us
I told my friend that I was reading this thing the other day, that made me realise a lot of why I am the way I am, I may have suspected it but never thought of it that way or so clearly.
It was actually in an otherwise funny website, where they write stuff like the best 5 movie endings, or technology you wouldn't believe it's real, but there's this one guy that writes loads about things that have happened to him, and one of the articles was something like: "5 things about you that shows you come from a dysfunctional family" and I swear at least I could see myself in two of those and possibly a third one.
All this to say that I never fully realised how much growing up in that environment shaped what I am, good and bad, it was revealing and disturbing, it explained and it left me with the certainty that I'd had issues and wondering whether I still have them and whether I should, sometime, need therapy to properly confront and overcome them.
That and confirming the fact, without a shadow of a doubt now, that I came from a dysfunctional family. I always knew, and know the issues, but it is also true that growing up a lot of things you just think are normal, aren't. Not the beatings of course, or the shouting, but other more subtle things that you didn't think about.
It was actually in an otherwise funny website, where they write stuff like the best 5 movie endings, or technology you wouldn't believe it's real, but there's this one guy that writes loads about things that have happened to him, and one of the articles was something like: "5 things about you that shows you come from a dysfunctional family" and I swear at least I could see myself in two of those and possibly a third one.
All this to say that I never fully realised how much growing up in that environment shaped what I am, good and bad, it was revealing and disturbing, it explained and it left me with the certainty that I'd had issues and wondering whether I still have them and whether I should, sometime, need therapy to properly confront and overcome them.
That and confirming the fact, without a shadow of a doubt now, that I came from a dysfunctional family. I always knew, and know the issues, but it is also true that growing up a lot of things you just think are normal, aren't. Not the beatings of course, or the shouting, but other more subtle things that you didn't think about.
24 November, 2012
Algarve 2009
Lembro-me bem desse dia, desse tempo, dessa semana.
Lembro-me de praticamente tudo. Do Sol, maravilhoso, do meu Portugal. Do teu impacto M, não não tu M, a outra M! :)
Lembro-me pois é uma memória tão vívida que seria capaz de re-criar a nossa conversa quase palavra por palavra, consigo ver-nos os três sentados naquela pastelaria no fórum, até me lembro em que cadeiras cada um de nós estava. Foi a primeira, de muitas, conversas que tivemos ao longo destes últimos três anos, conversas que no seu conjunto tem tido o condão de me, acordar acho que é o termo mais certo.
Lembro-me do andar na Lagoa, de vê-lo pela primeira vez, do cheiro, da luz, até me lembro do cheiro do shampô que usei que sempre me leva a recordar essa semana.
Lembro-me de Lagoa e de Vale de Centianes. Acho que até então tinham passado três ou quatro anos que eu tinha estado numa praia. Lembro-me de me lembrar do quanto gosto de estar ao pé do mar, de ouvir as ondas e sentir o quente do sol na pele enquanto forajo na areia com os pés. Lembro-me especialmente do silêncio e da calma. Frequentemente, agora, quando preciso de relaxar, forço-me a ficar quieto e voltar à praia de Centianes. É por tudo isto que quero sempre ir àquela praia, não porque seja melhor que qualquer outra, mas porque tem um significado tão importante e pessoal para mim. Tradição importa, o passado importa, e relações com a tradição importam. Mas é um balanço delicado, entre não ficar preso no passado e viver o presente, entre firmar novas memórias e recordações e manter um laço com o que passou, com o que é e foi importante, pois é normal repetirmos um comportamento se fazermos aquilo que nos faz felizes. E isto é tão mais importante com pessoas, amigos família e outros mais que tais.
Mas digrido.
Lembro-me também da angústia e da tristeza e do desespero.
Tinha sido um Verão... interessante digamos. Muito aconteceu, bom e mau, e desesperante. Sentimentos foram agredidos e corações partidos.
Lembro-me de me sentar e escrever tudo o que me ia na cabeça, tudo o que sentia. Lembro-me também que decidi escrever, fisicamente. O pensamento fica se utilizamos papel e caneta ou um computador ou um telefone, mas é diferente escrever, mesmo, fisicamente. Não o faço frequentemente. Gosto da ideia que posso partilhar as minhas divagações através deste meio que é o blog e dou demasiado preguiçoso para escrever e depois digitar tudo novamente, e, no entanto, foi exactamente isso que fiz nessa semana em Novembro há três anos.
Porque precisava de escrever, com a minha mão, em folhas de papel, com a minha escrita. Necessitava disso, e do silêncio e da calma e da isolação e do sol, e nem sequer o sabia, só olhando agora o consigo perceber.
Lembro-me de ouvir a Comercial e os Cromos lá, pela primeira vez, e também isso me leva de volta a esse tempo e a essa semana.
Foi uma semana seminal. Por tudo. E tanta coisa mo recorda. Uma canção, um cheiro, uma lembrança, um pensamento.
Mas... agora, ás vezes, ao mesmo tempo, me assusta um bocado, relembrar, e reviver algumas dessas emoções. Começo a não querer revivê-las, acho.
Apesar disso, há outras memórias do Algarve, que formei, e formámos, desde então, na sua grande maioria boas e em grande parte excelentes. Nunca esquecerei aqueles quatro dias em Abril de 2011, foi um fim-de-semana incrível.
Tudo volta ao início, a Novembro 2010. Nessa semana que fez um sol e um calor inesperado para a época, especialmente para mim, 18 graus é calor e para quem não tinha ido à praia há tanto tempo ou Verão em Portugal e tais temperaturas há pelo 6 anos. Todos os meus hábitos quando aí vou de férias, e estou sozinho, foram desenvolvidos nessa semana.
Lembro-me da esplanada do café da esquina (Café Rodrigo?), esse especificamente porque era perto da estação de camionetas que me levaria à praia e tinha um esplanada e poucos carros a passar e internet wi-fi. Lembro-me de lá sentar com o meu pastel de nata e café e a minha toalha. Lembro-me porque passei essa semana de calções e de toalha na mão e com o jornal debaixo do braço ou um livro.
Lembro-me de ter perdido as chaves! De me ter sentido inútil e embaraçado e de não acreditar que tinha num instante traído a confiança de alguém que mal conhecia mas que instantaneamente sentira que era alguém especial. Lembro-me da bondade, do vizinho com a sua paciência, e da senhora da churrascaria, que me deixou lá sentar até o vizinho F regressar. Por isso o frango da churrascaria Restaurante Sant'ana é uma tradição com significado.
Lembro-me. Lembro-me dessa semana muito bem. Desse primeiro dia. E de escrever no teu quarto M, ou melhor, no vosso quarto, sentado no "puff" ou bean bag. Lembro-me do sol.
Lembro-me. Lembro-me das memórias.
Lembro-me. Lembro-me que a partir dessa semana me tenho refeito.
Lembro-me de praticamente tudo. Do Sol, maravilhoso, do meu Portugal. Do teu impacto M, não não tu M, a outra M! :)
Lembro-me pois é uma memória tão vívida que seria capaz de re-criar a nossa conversa quase palavra por palavra, consigo ver-nos os três sentados naquela pastelaria no fórum, até me lembro em que cadeiras cada um de nós estava. Foi a primeira, de muitas, conversas que tivemos ao longo destes últimos três anos, conversas que no seu conjunto tem tido o condão de me, acordar acho que é o termo mais certo.
Lembro-me do andar na Lagoa, de vê-lo pela primeira vez, do cheiro, da luz, até me lembro do cheiro do shampô que usei que sempre me leva a recordar essa semana.
Lembro-me de Lagoa e de Vale de Centianes. Acho que até então tinham passado três ou quatro anos que eu tinha estado numa praia. Lembro-me de me lembrar do quanto gosto de estar ao pé do mar, de ouvir as ondas e sentir o quente do sol na pele enquanto forajo na areia com os pés. Lembro-me especialmente do silêncio e da calma. Frequentemente, agora, quando preciso de relaxar, forço-me a ficar quieto e voltar à praia de Centianes. É por tudo isto que quero sempre ir àquela praia, não porque seja melhor que qualquer outra, mas porque tem um significado tão importante e pessoal para mim. Tradição importa, o passado importa, e relações com a tradição importam. Mas é um balanço delicado, entre não ficar preso no passado e viver o presente, entre firmar novas memórias e recordações e manter um laço com o que passou, com o que é e foi importante, pois é normal repetirmos um comportamento se fazermos aquilo que nos faz felizes. E isto é tão mais importante com pessoas, amigos família e outros mais que tais.
Mas digrido.
Lembro-me também da angústia e da tristeza e do desespero.
Tinha sido um Verão... interessante digamos. Muito aconteceu, bom e mau, e desesperante. Sentimentos foram agredidos e corações partidos.
Lembro-me de me sentar e escrever tudo o que me ia na cabeça, tudo o que sentia. Lembro-me também que decidi escrever, fisicamente. O pensamento fica se utilizamos papel e caneta ou um computador ou um telefone, mas é diferente escrever, mesmo, fisicamente. Não o faço frequentemente. Gosto da ideia que posso partilhar as minhas divagações através deste meio que é o blog e dou demasiado preguiçoso para escrever e depois digitar tudo novamente, e, no entanto, foi exactamente isso que fiz nessa semana em Novembro há três anos.
Porque precisava de escrever, com a minha mão, em folhas de papel, com a minha escrita. Necessitava disso, e do silêncio e da calma e da isolação e do sol, e nem sequer o sabia, só olhando agora o consigo perceber.
Lembro-me de ouvir a Comercial e os Cromos lá, pela primeira vez, e também isso me leva de volta a esse tempo e a essa semana.
Foi uma semana seminal. Por tudo. E tanta coisa mo recorda. Uma canção, um cheiro, uma lembrança, um pensamento.
Mas... agora, ás vezes, ao mesmo tempo, me assusta um bocado, relembrar, e reviver algumas dessas emoções. Começo a não querer revivê-las, acho.
Apesar disso, há outras memórias do Algarve, que formei, e formámos, desde então, na sua grande maioria boas e em grande parte excelentes. Nunca esquecerei aqueles quatro dias em Abril de 2011, foi um fim-de-semana incrível.
Tudo volta ao início, a Novembro 2010. Nessa semana que fez um sol e um calor inesperado para a época, especialmente para mim, 18 graus é calor e para quem não tinha ido à praia há tanto tempo ou Verão em Portugal e tais temperaturas há pelo 6 anos. Todos os meus hábitos quando aí vou de férias, e estou sozinho, foram desenvolvidos nessa semana.
Lembro-me da esplanada do café da esquina (Café Rodrigo?), esse especificamente porque era perto da estação de camionetas que me levaria à praia e tinha um esplanada e poucos carros a passar e internet wi-fi. Lembro-me de lá sentar com o meu pastel de nata e café e a minha toalha. Lembro-me porque passei essa semana de calções e de toalha na mão e com o jornal debaixo do braço ou um livro.
Lembro-me de ter perdido as chaves! De me ter sentido inútil e embaraçado e de não acreditar que tinha num instante traído a confiança de alguém que mal conhecia mas que instantaneamente sentira que era alguém especial. Lembro-me da bondade, do vizinho com a sua paciência, e da senhora da churrascaria, que me deixou lá sentar até o vizinho F regressar. Por isso o frango da churrascaria Restaurante Sant'ana é uma tradição com significado.
Lembro-me. Lembro-me dessa semana muito bem. Desse primeiro dia. E de escrever no teu quarto M, ou melhor, no vosso quarto, sentado no "puff" ou bean bag. Lembro-me do sol.
Lembro-me. Lembro-me das memórias.
Lembro-me. Lembro-me que a partir dessa semana me tenho refeito.
18 November, 2012
FNL & being XXXV
It's strange, this life I'm living.
I wake up I go to work I come back get some food watch TV.
As usual when I start waking up at a regular time for a few weeks I start waking up at that same time even when I don't have work.
So, when I don't have work, I wake up, get some food watch TV or play some games then get dinner and watch TV again. I love watching TV, I don't have a problem with it, it's easy I can do it for hours.
There's certain shows I love, and I watch some quality TV. Different program's elicit different responses in me. They can make me laugh or think or travel to different places or dream.
I don't like watching soaps, but I guess some TV series are a bit like soaps.
I have recently discovered Friday Night Lights and I love that show. For lots of reasons and not necessarily the obvious ones. Even though it's set in deep American country with all it's idiosyncrasies and issues it shows a truer side of America than most and I love that and I kinda makes me fall in love with America all over again. When I watch it now, it makes me feel and sigh and reflect. But when I hear its opening music it also makes me sad and alone, deeply sad at my loneliness.
It's strange, last weekend for no other major reason other than a phone conversation with a friend and night out with another I felt pretty happy and confident and I had a couple of really nice days.
But then my daily reality comes back and I get really sick of telling people that no I don't have plans today, or for this weekend, again. Because that's my life.
Or that even when people ask me to do stuff I refuse, because I can't.
Or sometimes I refuse because I simply cannot be bothered. I know that this is wrong and it's the way to depression, isolation is a sure fire thing to get a little bit paranoid and obsessed with certain thoughts. But sometimes I really just want to do what I feel like. Even if it's staying at home or not doing what I'm invited to because it doesn't interest me. But I know when I do refuse, for every time I refuse I will not be asked again, and that time I may want to just leave the house. I'm just getting tired of doing these things that other people are interested in and I have no real keenness in it so that I can remain friends though. Is that truly friendship? Or am I just being selfish? Being selfish, both ways, for only wanting to do what I want and for pretending with my friends, because surely to pretend for the sole reason of not being alone is also a form of selfishness.
Alternatively, for whichever reason, I can refuse, and stay at home. But it's very depressing to have four days off and spend them watching TV and not leaving the house not seeing anyone. Currently however I have very little choice, I need to to be disciplined and look to the future. So I can rationalise it that way, and it is true.
The problem is I don't want to look too much into the future because I'm dead scared of what I see.
And what I see are more weekends like these, more days off like these. Because I will be alone and I will have no friends, or all my "friends" will have babies and children and lives that do not accommodate me and I will not fit in their puzzle, nor, to be fair, would I want to because it will remind me of what I don't have.
So when that music comes on, that beautiful song, I know I will enjoy the show and get lost in it, but for those few minutes it makes me deeply sad at my loneliness.
I wake up I go to work I come back get some food watch TV.
As usual when I start waking up at a regular time for a few weeks I start waking up at that same time even when I don't have work.
So, when I don't have work, I wake up, get some food watch TV or play some games then get dinner and watch TV again. I love watching TV, I don't have a problem with it, it's easy I can do it for hours.
There's certain shows I love, and I watch some quality TV. Different program's elicit different responses in me. They can make me laugh or think or travel to different places or dream.
I don't like watching soaps, but I guess some TV series are a bit like soaps.
I have recently discovered Friday Night Lights and I love that show. For lots of reasons and not necessarily the obvious ones. Even though it's set in deep American country with all it's idiosyncrasies and issues it shows a truer side of America than most and I love that and I kinda makes me fall in love with America all over again. When I watch it now, it makes me feel and sigh and reflect. But when I hear its opening music it also makes me sad and alone, deeply sad at my loneliness.
It's strange, last weekend for no other major reason other than a phone conversation with a friend and night out with another I felt pretty happy and confident and I had a couple of really nice days.
But then my daily reality comes back and I get really sick of telling people that no I don't have plans today, or for this weekend, again. Because that's my life.
Or that even when people ask me to do stuff I refuse, because I can't.
Or sometimes I refuse because I simply cannot be bothered. I know that this is wrong and it's the way to depression, isolation is a sure fire thing to get a little bit paranoid and obsessed with certain thoughts. But sometimes I really just want to do what I feel like. Even if it's staying at home or not doing what I'm invited to because it doesn't interest me. But I know when I do refuse, for every time I refuse I will not be asked again, and that time I may want to just leave the house. I'm just getting tired of doing these things that other people are interested in and I have no real keenness in it so that I can remain friends though. Is that truly friendship? Or am I just being selfish? Being selfish, both ways, for only wanting to do what I want and for pretending with my friends, because surely to pretend for the sole reason of not being alone is also a form of selfishness.
Alternatively, for whichever reason, I can refuse, and stay at home. But it's very depressing to have four days off and spend them watching TV and not leaving the house not seeing anyone. Currently however I have very little choice, I need to to be disciplined and look to the future. So I can rationalise it that way, and it is true.
The problem is I don't want to look too much into the future because I'm dead scared of what I see.
And what I see are more weekends like these, more days off like these. Because I will be alone and I will have no friends, or all my "friends" will have babies and children and lives that do not accommodate me and I will not fit in their puzzle, nor, to be fair, would I want to because it will remind me of what I don't have.
So when that music comes on, that beautiful song, I know I will enjoy the show and get lost in it, but for those few minutes it makes me deeply sad at my loneliness.
04 November, 2012
Have I stopped wanting?
Have I stopped wanting?
Wanting to be better?
Wanting to have a better life?
Wanting to not be afraid of the unknown?
Have I settled for all I can get instead of fighting for what I want?
But how can I fight for what I want if I don't know what is because I've stopped wanting?
Wanting to be better?
Wanting to have a better life?
Wanting to not be afraid of the unknown?
Have I settled for all I can get instead of fighting for what I want?
But how can I fight for what I want if I don't know what is because I've stopped wanting?
03 November, 2012
Keeping away from the edge, just
It's the third of November, early hours of the morning. I have been getting a bit sad lately. I know I'm holding my life with strings. I felt that I may be ready to write again. Write the deciding moments follow up post. Writing always helps me.
Two months ago to this day I wrote my last post. I just realised I hadn't published it, it's out there now, together with another one written a couple of days beforehand.
And it all came back. How close I was to losing it. I was on my last legs. It has only been two months but some hope has been restored, some confidence has returned. I can see a way out but I am extremely aware how feeble and tenuous the situation is.
Nonetheless, most of those feelings are there still, they haven't gone away. There hasn't been a magic wand moment. I can still feel so afraid at how fragile it all is and I don't know how I'm holding it all together. In fact I'm scared of even thinking about it and making it real.
I want to just hide it all away. Cover my ears and be distracted. Hoping that it will, magically, go away. Thinking is bad. For me it means obsessing. So I can't do it. I'll just live through books and television and video games. They are my refuge. Keeping me safe from my insanities and insecurities and hopelessness.
I just need to hold to that thought, that faint hope, that maybe there is a way and just follow that road.
Two months ago to this day I wrote my last post. I just realised I hadn't published it, it's out there now, together with another one written a couple of days beforehand.
And it all came back. How close I was to losing it. I was on my last legs. It has only been two months but some hope has been restored, some confidence has returned. I can see a way out but I am extremely aware how feeble and tenuous the situation is.
Nonetheless, most of those feelings are there still, they haven't gone away. There hasn't been a magic wand moment. I can still feel so afraid at how fragile it all is and I don't know how I'm holding it all together. In fact I'm scared of even thinking about it and making it real.
I want to just hide it all away. Cover my ears and be distracted. Hoping that it will, magically, go away. Thinking is bad. For me it means obsessing. So I can't do it. I'll just live through books and television and video games. They are my refuge. Keeping me safe from my insanities and insecurities and hopelessness.
I just need to hold to that thought, that faint hope, that maybe there is a way and just follow that road.
03 September, 2012
These days...
I'm completely lost. I don't know what or what I'm doing.
Don't know what I want to work in. Don't know what I want to do.
I feel time is running out, and I shouldn't feel this old at 34.
I'm never going to have a relationship, someone by my side, to love and care for and enjoy life. Which of course means, that I'll also never have kids. To nurture and love and watch them grow.
I am lost. Lost in myself the world and everything around me.
I'm lost and I'm withering away...
Don't know what I want to work in. Don't know what I want to do.
I feel time is running out, and I shouldn't feel this old at 34.
I'm never going to have a relationship, someone by my side, to love and care for and enjoy life. Which of course means, that I'll also never have kids. To nurture and love and watch them grow.
I am lost. Lost in myself the world and everything around me.
I'm lost and I'm withering away...
01 September, 2012
What
What do you want? What do you really really want?
I was asked this, a few weeks ago, in relation to work, what do you really want to do?
And I just don't know. In all honesty. I just don't. I have a faint idea of what I don't know, but even that isn't certain.
Because I don't know. I can't decide on anything. There's nothing I feel strongly about. I have no certainty left, I have got no confidence in my abilities or what I can do.
I used to. Know. I used to want a challenge, responsibility, progression. I had ambition, determination.
I don't recognise myself in that anymore. I don't take rejection well. I don't know how to deal with it.
On top of it, my memory has got worse. As in, really bad. And my common sense has also become worse. And my logic and thought processes are slow, I can't think of things quickly enough, I know I know them or I know I should be able to work them out yet I can't. Probably because my memory has become so bad.
I know I'm not stupid, I know I am smart enough. I know I can learn.
But my decisions have proven to be so bad. I have done and said and write things that have brought about my downfall. I don't see the way out.
I don't see a way out.
I had a window there, for a while, for exactly four months. Last year, 2011, from February to May. And I had four of the most amazing days of my life in May. I even fixed my eyes!!
Since then it's all gone downhill. I was kidding myself on my last job, it was a necessity, "fake it till you make it" I kept telling myself, something I had read or seen somewhere but that it epitomised all the months of that job, I simply did not know what I was doing. I had been arrogant enough to self-delude myself into thinking that being good at one job meant I could do any similar ones and progress and be better elsewhere. The grass is always greener as it was proven in the end.
I had a window. In those four months. At happiness, real true happiness. At change. At being different. Being able to, finally, be myself and do things and go places and meet people. Be myself in a way I cannot ever be fully, that I was never able to be before. Only those who have known me the longest know that person. But I have been this other subdued, diffident, quiet melancholic individual for so long I no longer know where one starts and the other stops.
I no longer know how to be me. I had a window there, for a while. To rediscover myself, and, once again, be!
I was only me in three periods of my life: when I was promoted on my first job for six months and became an adult. On my second year at university, following a consolidation and adaptation during my first year: I was confident, hopeful, full of life, fell in love, possibly twice, maybe even three times. Got my heart broken, discovered writing but still all to play for, I was twenty years old and I had the idealism of youth. Then third year happened, parents split up, grades suffered, dissertation messed up and things went downhill from then. In fact it was a long fall of about four years, with one "blip", an unforgettable Summer of great parties, parties and semi-friendship, but it couldn't last and it went down and down. I thought then that returning to Portugal would fix something but it didn't, it was even worse. The bottom was reached, and I could take it no longer after two years back.
I had to change things before I drowned myself. I did, and moved away, and it worked to an extent, but with very strong strings attached, and I entered a period of stasis for about eight years. It was the price to pay for not drowning, I accepted it and did not ambitioned more. Being promoted after six months provided a much needed boost, but the strings didn't allow for a lot of movement.
I accepted it. Work went well, even if life was none. My work persona was a success. A persona that was developed and moulded and refined into a professional, competent and even respected figure. Work was good but life was almost non-existent. Work become life in a lot of ways which is why I used to take it so seriously.
Until work become restrictive, and thoughts surfaced that maybe, just maybe, I could do better. But I was too fearful of the risk, the strings still pulled too strongly.
Ultimately, decided to stay. Once the decision was made after much agonising, I was strong again. Strong enough to break free of the strings.
Then these four months came around. Confidence was high. I was once again hopeful, determined, ambitious. I felt on top of the world. I felt on the edge, on the edge of freedom, of really leading a Life, as I hadn't before. I had possibly four of the best days of my life on a mini weekend holiday.
Then I had a rush of blood to the head. Ten seconds of insanity. And things went downhill, and despite a temporary slowdown, which was never going to be definite, the fall resumed. I am still falling.
I can feel it. Falling. Further, deeper. Know that it's there, the edge. That I'm teetering on it. Desperately trying not to despair. Trying hard not to see the walls of the hole I'm in, trying so hard to believe that somehow, somewhere, a chance of sorts will arrest this free fall.
But another thing has happened over the last four years or so, or maybe even for the last 14! I have stopped feeling, I no longer feel. I know, rationally, that I'm so very close to the edge. I also know that rationally I should believe and not panic. But in actual fact I almost don't care either way. I don't feel it, one way or the other, I am desensitised.
I may be two weeks away from being homeless. One of those that live on the edges and cracks of society, ignored and invisible. I'm nearly there. Yet...
I don't feel it. I expect I shall if I get there. I know, I understand, that I should decide what I want to do with my life, set a target and fight for that goal. But I don't.
Because I don't know. I don't feel. I don't care for much. So I can't decide. And so, I'm not deciding, it's just going to happen.
Because I don't know. Who I am anymore, and what I've become, I don't recognise myself. For so long, being me was such a small part of my existence, and being the Work person so much more important, that without being the Work person I don't know how to be Me.
I have lost myself.
I was asked this, a few weeks ago, in relation to work, what do you really want to do?
And I just don't know. In all honesty. I just don't. I have a faint idea of what I don't know, but even that isn't certain.
Because I don't know. I can't decide on anything. There's nothing I feel strongly about. I have no certainty left, I have got no confidence in my abilities or what I can do.
I used to. Know. I used to want a challenge, responsibility, progression. I had ambition, determination.
I don't recognise myself in that anymore. I don't take rejection well. I don't know how to deal with it.
On top of it, my memory has got worse. As in, really bad. And my common sense has also become worse. And my logic and thought processes are slow, I can't think of things quickly enough, I know I know them or I know I should be able to work them out yet I can't. Probably because my memory has become so bad.
I know I'm not stupid, I know I am smart enough. I know I can learn.
But my decisions have proven to be so bad. I have done and said and write things that have brought about my downfall. I don't see the way out.
I don't see a way out.
I had a window there, for a while, for exactly four months. Last year, 2011, from February to May. And I had four of the most amazing days of my life in May. I even fixed my eyes!!
Since then it's all gone downhill. I was kidding myself on my last job, it was a necessity, "fake it till you make it" I kept telling myself, something I had read or seen somewhere but that it epitomised all the months of that job, I simply did not know what I was doing. I had been arrogant enough to self-delude myself into thinking that being good at one job meant I could do any similar ones and progress and be better elsewhere. The grass is always greener as it was proven in the end.
I had a window. In those four months. At happiness, real true happiness. At change. At being different. Being able to, finally, be myself and do things and go places and meet people. Be myself in a way I cannot ever be fully, that I was never able to be before. Only those who have known me the longest know that person. But I have been this other subdued, diffident, quiet melancholic individual for so long I no longer know where one starts and the other stops.
I no longer know how to be me. I had a window there, for a while. To rediscover myself, and, once again, be!
I was only me in three periods of my life: when I was promoted on my first job for six months and became an adult. On my second year at university, following a consolidation and adaptation during my first year: I was confident, hopeful, full of life, fell in love, possibly twice, maybe even three times. Got my heart broken, discovered writing but still all to play for, I was twenty years old and I had the idealism of youth. Then third year happened, parents split up, grades suffered, dissertation messed up and things went downhill from then. In fact it was a long fall of about four years, with one "blip", an unforgettable Summer of great parties, parties and semi-friendship, but it couldn't last and it went down and down. I thought then that returning to Portugal would fix something but it didn't, it was even worse. The bottom was reached, and I could take it no longer after two years back.
I had to change things before I drowned myself. I did, and moved away, and it worked to an extent, but with very strong strings attached, and I entered a period of stasis for about eight years. It was the price to pay for not drowning, I accepted it and did not ambitioned more. Being promoted after six months provided a much needed boost, but the strings didn't allow for a lot of movement.
I accepted it. Work went well, even if life was none. My work persona was a success. A persona that was developed and moulded and refined into a professional, competent and even respected figure. Work was good but life was almost non-existent. Work become life in a lot of ways which is why I used to take it so seriously.
Until work become restrictive, and thoughts surfaced that maybe, just maybe, I could do better. But I was too fearful of the risk, the strings still pulled too strongly.
Ultimately, decided to stay. Once the decision was made after much agonising, I was strong again. Strong enough to break free of the strings.
Then these four months came around. Confidence was high. I was once again hopeful, determined, ambitious. I felt on top of the world. I felt on the edge, on the edge of freedom, of really leading a Life, as I hadn't before. I had possibly four of the best days of my life on a mini weekend holiday.
Then I had a rush of blood to the head. Ten seconds of insanity. And things went downhill, and despite a temporary slowdown, which was never going to be definite, the fall resumed. I am still falling.
I can feel it. Falling. Further, deeper. Know that it's there, the edge. That I'm teetering on it. Desperately trying not to despair. Trying hard not to see the walls of the hole I'm in, trying so hard to believe that somehow, somewhere, a chance of sorts will arrest this free fall.
But another thing has happened over the last four years or so, or maybe even for the last 14! I have stopped feeling, I no longer feel. I know, rationally, that I'm so very close to the edge. I also know that rationally I should believe and not panic. But in actual fact I almost don't care either way. I don't feel it, one way or the other, I am desensitised.
I may be two weeks away from being homeless. One of those that live on the edges and cracks of society, ignored and invisible. I'm nearly there. Yet...
I don't feel it. I expect I shall if I get there. I know, I understand, that I should decide what I want to do with my life, set a target and fight for that goal. But I don't.
Because I don't know. I don't feel. I don't care for much. So I can't decide. And so, I'm not deciding, it's just going to happen.
Because I don't know. Who I am anymore, and what I've become, I don't recognise myself. For so long, being me was such a small part of my existence, and being the Work person so much more important, that without being the Work person I don't know how to be Me.
I have lost myself.
25 August, 2012
A week running on empty
So I've had a week off, the best part of unemployment (the worst is to come in a couple of weeks when money runs out...) and I've kept busy enough.
I've applied for jobs (on Monday and Wednesday, a couple on Thursday).
I've socialised, went for lunch Monday then met up later again to watch the football. A friend came around to play FIFA Tuesday. I went to the quiz Thursday. Later today I'm going to Coventry to the triple wrestling.
I've watched TV, a lot, all day.
I even went for a run Thursday.
And I've played computer games, a lot, all day. Skyrim and Mass Effect 3 and Football Manager 2012 interspersed with watching Lewis and The Borgias and The Newsroom.
But as the sixth day works its way into my awareness I despair. More of the same again? Sigh. I love games and TV and all that, but as distractions not as full blown lifestyles. What awaits me today? More gaming and television? I daren't go for a walk into town because I haven't got the money to spend, or rather I do, but I cannot give in to the temptation of spending my dwindling resources.
Sigh
Such is the life of unemployment. It is great to have time off when you're at work because it compares favourably to not being at work and of course you have things to go that you have to catch up on.
When you have infinite or indefinite amount of timo off though...
I've applied for jobs (on Monday and Wednesday, a couple on Thursday).
I've socialised, went for lunch Monday then met up later again to watch the football. A friend came around to play FIFA Tuesday. I went to the quiz Thursday. Later today I'm going to Coventry to the triple wrestling.
I've watched TV, a lot, all day.
I even went for a run Thursday.
And I've played computer games, a lot, all day. Skyrim and Mass Effect 3 and Football Manager 2012 interspersed with watching Lewis and The Borgias and The Newsroom.
But as the sixth day works its way into my awareness I despair. More of the same again? Sigh. I love games and TV and all that, but as distractions not as full blown lifestyles. What awaits me today? More gaming and television? I daren't go for a walk into town because I haven't got the money to spend, or rather I do, but I cannot give in to the temptation of spending my dwindling resources.
Sigh
Such is the life of unemployment. It is great to have time off when you're at work because it compares favourably to not being at work and of course you have things to go that you have to catch up on.
When you have infinite or indefinite amount of timo off though...
13 August, 2012
Marasmo?
Disseram me que estou num marasmo, e que os amigos que tenho não me estão a ajudar a sair dele.
Talvez.
Mas estou me a sentir como qualquer marido que critica a esposa até outra pessoa a criticar e aí, ah aí defende-lá com unhas e dentes. Isto é verdade numa multimídia de situações e paralelos, o nosso país, filhos, família, criticar podemos nós que estamos "dentro" mas quem está de fora não "pode".
Talvez. Talvez esteja num marasmo. Mas é o Meu marasmo. São os Meus amigos. É a Minha vida. É a minha cidade.
Eu sei, sei que se não sair agora o mais certo é nunca mais sair. Mas não estou tão certo que sair é a melhor ideia. Racionalmente e logicamente parece o mais acertado. Uma mudança mas não completamente radical. Que talvez precise.
Talvez. Again. Talvez.
Mas não sei se quero. Se quero começar de novo. Se quero investir em novas amizades, que, quase de certeza, não temos nada em comum.
Para melhor ou pior eu gosto da minha vida. Talvez não tenha "crescido" ou "amadurecido" mas não tenho paciência ou motivação para mudar completamente.
Gosto de ver filmes, e jogar videojogos em casa e com amigos, de ir ao pub quiz com os meus amigos, de beber uma pint no pub com música rock aberto até tarde.
Gosto da familiaridade. Acho que é isso que torna tão difícil a mudança.
No entanto, apesar disso tudo, há meros 8 meses atrás estava completamente preparado para ir para Colchester, estava convencido que seria bom e estava certo que tudo iria correr bem.
No final vem tudo dar ao vil metal, o dinheiro rege-nos a vida. Uma coisa é um emprego como gerente de loja com um salário acima da média e boa experiência, outro é um salário mal pago numa cidade cara onde a experiência é restrita àquele ramo.
Sigh, suspiro. Estou indeciso. Indecidido no meu marasmo. Ultimamente estou absolutamente incapaz de tonar decisões e tenho-as relegado para outrém porque não me confio em mim mesmo.
Mas será que posso viver com uma decisão que não é minha?
Será que consigo tomar uma decisão sozinho, novamente??
Ás vezes, sinto falta da minha mãe, com todos os seus defeitos às vezes fazia um certo sentido, ela nunca foi parva, irresponsável decerto e talvez desligada da realidade mas inteligente.
Suspiro.
Marasmo? Será que é assim um marasmo tão grande e tão "pernicioso"?
Talvez.
Mas estou me a sentir como qualquer marido que critica a esposa até outra pessoa a criticar e aí, ah aí defende-lá com unhas e dentes. Isto é verdade numa multimídia de situações e paralelos, o nosso país, filhos, família, criticar podemos nós que estamos "dentro" mas quem está de fora não "pode".
Talvez. Talvez esteja num marasmo. Mas é o Meu marasmo. São os Meus amigos. É a Minha vida. É a minha cidade.
Eu sei, sei que se não sair agora o mais certo é nunca mais sair. Mas não estou tão certo que sair é a melhor ideia. Racionalmente e logicamente parece o mais acertado. Uma mudança mas não completamente radical. Que talvez precise.
Talvez. Again. Talvez.
Mas não sei se quero. Se quero começar de novo. Se quero investir em novas amizades, que, quase de certeza, não temos nada em comum.
Para melhor ou pior eu gosto da minha vida. Talvez não tenha "crescido" ou "amadurecido" mas não tenho paciência ou motivação para mudar completamente.
Gosto de ver filmes, e jogar videojogos em casa e com amigos, de ir ao pub quiz com os meus amigos, de beber uma pint no pub com música rock aberto até tarde.
Gosto da familiaridade. Acho que é isso que torna tão difícil a mudança.
No entanto, apesar disso tudo, há meros 8 meses atrás estava completamente preparado para ir para Colchester, estava convencido que seria bom e estava certo que tudo iria correr bem.
No final vem tudo dar ao vil metal, o dinheiro rege-nos a vida. Uma coisa é um emprego como gerente de loja com um salário acima da média e boa experiência, outro é um salário mal pago numa cidade cara onde a experiência é restrita àquele ramo.
Sigh, suspiro. Estou indeciso. Indecidido no meu marasmo. Ultimamente estou absolutamente incapaz de tonar decisões e tenho-as relegado para outrém porque não me confio em mim mesmo.
Mas será que posso viver com uma decisão que não é minha?
Será que consigo tomar uma decisão sozinho, novamente??
Ás vezes, sinto falta da minha mãe, com todos os seus defeitos às vezes fazia um certo sentido, ela nunca foi parva, irresponsável decerto e talvez desligada da realidade mas inteligente.
Suspiro.
Marasmo? Será que é assim um marasmo tão grande e tão "pernicioso"?
06 August, 2012
Some sort of record...
I realised this morning as I was grudgingly driving to work that I would be speaking to people and realised that I hadn't spoken to anyone for the last three days.
In fact, I spoke to somebody on the phone three days ago but I don't know if that counts.
And in the last two days the only word I said was a brief "hello".
I've got a feeling this a sign of things to come.
In fact, if I wasn't living in a shared house I wouldn't have spoken to anyone at all in the last 96 hours.
I can see this being my future
In fact, I spoke to somebody on the phone three days ago but I don't know if that counts.
And in the last two days the only word I said was a brief "hello".
I've got a feeling this a sign of things to come.
In fact, if I wasn't living in a shared house I wouldn't have spoken to anyone at all in the last 96 hours.
I can see this being my future
04 August, 2012
Deciding Moments I
They say that happiness is made up of moments. That collectively they make up how good is your quality of life. I don't know who are "they". I must have heard it at some point in my life and I believed it. I still do, it seems to make sense.
And similarly, I have always believed in a strange kind of destiny, fate type thing, in which somehow there are these confluent points in time and one's life if you have to go through regardless of what choices you make.
Well, when I say "always believed" that's perhaps a bit strong, I think more appropriately I want to believe that in the way people are religious, because it would bring a sort of structure and meaning and in a way take away responsibility for certain actions.
But in reality, the universe and life at large doesn't care. People care not the abstract in the world around us. There is no hidden meaning and or structure although it is comforting to think there is.
What there is are moments in your life where your choices matter more than most. The choice to have coffee this morning or cereal probably does not have great significance of bearing in my future, unless if for some reason that milk was off and would cause me to get sick, or the prolonged drinking of coffee is somehow harmful, which is unproven, and could not be found out until long in the future.
Other choices are however momentous. Some you realise straight away and others you don't. Today I'm not going to extrapolate and analyse those decisions that are seemingly innocuous and prove the opposite.
No, I just want to remember and give examples of some that I can recall in my life. If I can't recall them they can't have been that important right?
I think I'll list them chronologically rather than as in terms of importance.
Hmm, how far back could one go for decisions that were life-altering?
I suppose deciding to take French instead of English for my fifth year could have had a big impact, given that I was one of only three that did so from my class but that has never been neither a hindrance nor a benefit. Obviously this was my first major decision and the impact it had was in terms of the people I met versus the ones that I didn't. Luckily in that decision meant I met my best Friend to this day.
Another decision that was almost life altering was this random day in the lost Summer of 1992 or 1993, when despite not much feeling like it I went out to play hide and seek with my friends and step on a big rusty nail that penetrated the bone in my left foot, which infected and weeks down the line I luckily didn't lose it for a question of hours.
This was important because in the last day of my physiotherapy and almost full recovery there was a teacher's strike at school and you never which teachers would adhere to or not, so you the choice of going and finding out if that particular teacher was on strike or risk that it was and not bother going at all. I had that choice, for a class of English or French, or go play football. I went to play football. Within that decision there was another decision. I played in goal because a) I was never very good and b) I had just been very ill and almost lost my foot. But I wanted to really play and I pleaded with my friends to let me out of goal, they eventually relented and in due course because I wasn't very good mistackled this pretty strong guy, leg on leg, but because my bones were so brittle they simply cracked. I was in excruciating pain which not all believed and some thought was funny, we were kids, but it meant I was back at home and my leg in a cast. I did go back to school and with the help of the famous five who carried me up the stairs I somehow managed to not fail that year. I now wonder if some of those people and friends I played football with ever felt guilty, for laughing, for not believing, for letting me out of goal and for letting me skip that class.
A momentous decision I can recall was when in the height of my adolescence, can't remember exactly if I was 16 or 17, when I realised that I was different from others, I was clumsier, shyer, poorer, cleverer about some things and clueless in others, thought about things and the world differently, and I decided that ultimately and above all others I was stupider than most. So much so that I recall with some clarity the moment when I wrote this down in a piece of paper, and the moment I shown it to a couple of friends and their reaction. But it's not those moments that are momentous. What is momentous was my decision then, at that heightened state of despair and possibly hormonal adolescence although I would dispute I was ever much affected by it, the decision that no matter how bad things were or got or how unsuitable I was it was cowardly to commit suicide and therefore I would tough it out and just carry on, one day at a time. Never really told anyone at the time, or since come to think of it, that that had been a choice in my head.
Another decision I remember clearly was when my grandparents decided to sell their house to help my mother (and by default my dad and me) and my uncle to buy their own. My parents relationship was troubled for some years and getting on to 18 years I could see the world as a grown up and I didn't think a new house would solve anything and in fact I had this distinct feeling things could only get worse and this would prove to be a big mistake. Because of issues to do with my mother it was decided that the new house was to be in my name as an only son it was assumed I would benefit eventually anyway and in this way my future was assured. I remember so clearly laying down on the floor of the kitchen of what had been thus far my home, listening to Metallica's Orion, trying to decide whether I should something about it, but I was too immature and too young to be able to anything of consequence or so I thought, I considered running away and leave my parents to it, confronting my parents about what we were doing and about their dysfunctional relationship or go tell my grandparents about it and let them decide. In the end I decided to do nothing, but that could have changed everything to a lot of people involved.
Just realised the last two deciding moments were of deciding not to act. One might think and say as you see in the movies that inaction is bad, I think in the event those two cancel each other out.
And similarly, I have always believed in a strange kind of destiny, fate type thing, in which somehow there are these confluent points in time and one's life if you have to go through regardless of what choices you make.
Well, when I say "always believed" that's perhaps a bit strong, I think more appropriately I want to believe that in the way people are religious, because it would bring a sort of structure and meaning and in a way take away responsibility for certain actions.
But in reality, the universe and life at large doesn't care. People care not the abstract in the world around us. There is no hidden meaning and or structure although it is comforting to think there is.
What there is are moments in your life where your choices matter more than most. The choice to have coffee this morning or cereal probably does not have great significance of bearing in my future, unless if for some reason that milk was off and would cause me to get sick, or the prolonged drinking of coffee is somehow harmful, which is unproven, and could not be found out until long in the future.
Other choices are however momentous. Some you realise straight away and others you don't. Today I'm not going to extrapolate and analyse those decisions that are seemingly innocuous and prove the opposite.
No, I just want to remember and give examples of some that I can recall in my life. If I can't recall them they can't have been that important right?
I think I'll list them chronologically rather than as in terms of importance.
Hmm, how far back could one go for decisions that were life-altering?
I suppose deciding to take French instead of English for my fifth year could have had a big impact, given that I was one of only three that did so from my class but that has never been neither a hindrance nor a benefit. Obviously this was my first major decision and the impact it had was in terms of the people I met versus the ones that I didn't. Luckily in that decision meant I met my best Friend to this day.
Another decision that was almost life altering was this random day in the lost Summer of 1992 or 1993, when despite not much feeling like it I went out to play hide and seek with my friends and step on a big rusty nail that penetrated the bone in my left foot, which infected and weeks down the line I luckily didn't lose it for a question of hours.
This was important because in the last day of my physiotherapy and almost full recovery there was a teacher's strike at school and you never which teachers would adhere to or not, so you the choice of going and finding out if that particular teacher was on strike or risk that it was and not bother going at all. I had that choice, for a class of English or French, or go play football. I went to play football. Within that decision there was another decision. I played in goal because a) I was never very good and b) I had just been very ill and almost lost my foot. But I wanted to really play and I pleaded with my friends to let me out of goal, they eventually relented and in due course because I wasn't very good mistackled this pretty strong guy, leg on leg, but because my bones were so brittle they simply cracked. I was in excruciating pain which not all believed and some thought was funny, we were kids, but it meant I was back at home and my leg in a cast. I did go back to school and with the help of the famous five who carried me up the stairs I somehow managed to not fail that year. I now wonder if some of those people and friends I played football with ever felt guilty, for laughing, for not believing, for letting me out of goal and for letting me skip that class.
A momentous decision I can recall was when in the height of my adolescence, can't remember exactly if I was 16 or 17, when I realised that I was different from others, I was clumsier, shyer, poorer, cleverer about some things and clueless in others, thought about things and the world differently, and I decided that ultimately and above all others I was stupider than most. So much so that I recall with some clarity the moment when I wrote this down in a piece of paper, and the moment I shown it to a couple of friends and their reaction. But it's not those moments that are momentous. What is momentous was my decision then, at that heightened state of despair and possibly hormonal adolescence although I would dispute I was ever much affected by it, the decision that no matter how bad things were or got or how unsuitable I was it was cowardly to commit suicide and therefore I would tough it out and just carry on, one day at a time. Never really told anyone at the time, or since come to think of it, that that had been a choice in my head.
Another decision I remember clearly was when my grandparents decided to sell their house to help my mother (and by default my dad and me) and my uncle to buy their own. My parents relationship was troubled for some years and getting on to 18 years I could see the world as a grown up and I didn't think a new house would solve anything and in fact I had this distinct feeling things could only get worse and this would prove to be a big mistake. Because of issues to do with my mother it was decided that the new house was to be in my name as an only son it was assumed I would benefit eventually anyway and in this way my future was assured. I remember so clearly laying down on the floor of the kitchen of what had been thus far my home, listening to Metallica's Orion, trying to decide whether I should something about it, but I was too immature and too young to be able to anything of consequence or so I thought, I considered running away and leave my parents to it, confronting my parents about what we were doing and about their dysfunctional relationship or go tell my grandparents about it and let them decide. In the end I decided to do nothing, but that could have changed everything to a lot of people involved.
Just realised the last two deciding moments were of deciding not to act. One might think and say as you see in the movies that inaction is bad, I think in the event those two cancel each other out.
01 August, 2012
"Angry" Music
Oh Machine Head, I have missed you!
I have not listened to your music of late, indeed little have I listened of metal especially its more extreme loud and angry version of late, yet I remember why I do love it.
It was something I was missing, it's like I have been denying a part of myself and that cannot be good.
I want to be angry, and I want to be sullen and I want to be alone and I want to listen to extremely loud music.
It's who I am, it's not point pretending otherwise, because if I do I become something else and l am lessened.
It's not that I don't enjoy the company of others, it's the pc I don't enjoy and it wears me down. If I want to be moody I want to be fucking moody and I need to be around ppl that understand that.
But they only will if they know me. Or if I show the me that's myself rather than a construct.
Signing off to the sound of Bay of Pigs: "your lies despised by generations"
I have not listened to your music of late, indeed little have I listened of metal especially its more extreme loud and angry version of late, yet I remember why I do love it.
It was something I was missing, it's like I have been denying a part of myself and that cannot be good.
I want to be angry, and I want to be sullen and I want to be alone and I want to listen to extremely loud music.
It's who I am, it's not point pretending otherwise, because if I do I become something else and l am lessened.
It's not that I don't enjoy the company of others, it's the pc I don't enjoy and it wears me down. If I want to be moody I want to be fucking moody and I need to be around ppl that understand that.
But they only will if they know me. Or if I show the me that's myself rather than a construct.
Signing off to the sound of Bay of Pigs: "your lies despised by generations"
05 June, 2012
Duck
I wish I could be a duck and just fly away
Away from the fears and regrets and expectations
Expectations that are not your own but your family and friends
Friends that are there for you but cannot do it for you
You gotta do it yourself
Away from the fears and regrets and expectations
Expectations that are not your own but your family and friends
Friends that are there for you but cannot do it for you
You gotta do it yourself
07 February, 2012
Time to grow up
I think I've been stuck in a time loop for the last five/six years.
When I look at my life now and it was like then it is very similar.
What have I learnt?
How have I changed?
Things did change actually and I have changed, but in truth my lifestyle hasn't and maybe it's time that has caught up with the rest of me.
I am older, more experienced, in a way more cynical but at the same time less angry and anxious. More sad some days.
I have loved and I have suffered and I have longed and I have recovered. That was an intense experience that surpassed what I'd had before. Yet, despite all those torrents of emotion it was never consummated, it was unresponded, and I have yet to experience and deal with the other side of a relationship so there's still much to learn I'm sure, eventually if ever...
I am still lacking the drive and the motivation to do certain things to have a certain get up and go in my own personal life, something that I can do professionally, which I have learnt and honed over the last few years but that I have not translated to myself.
And it is in this that I have to grow.and change and move forward. I don't know what I have been waiting for. Somebody to change me? No. Somebody to kick me up the arse? Maybe. In some respects I already got that but not fully, not completely.
The question is why?
Why am I so complacent?
Why do I procrastinate so much?
Why am I so lazy in my own life?
Why do give in to commodity?
I know it's because it's easy, but it does not make me any happier.
All this television and consoles and games are just distractions, a way to fill a void, to pass the time that is easy to give in to. The excuse has always been money, and to a certain extent it still is. I've been trying to be more social and I have succeeded, but I'm afraid I may have left it too late.
That's not fair, it's not late to make friends it's never too late for that and I have been strengthening relationships which has been great, I just have to face up that I'm a grown up, adult life is not about going out all the time, but if you're on your own and you're not in a relationship it's what you look forward to. And what other way is there to find a meaningful relationship if not leaving the house and meet people? For that it may be too late as most people are already in a relationship, most of your friends are married, soon to be or in a stable relationship, so meeting new single people is an act of extreme improbability.
Yet it is what I must do, and in fairness, I have neglected certain people and in turn distance has grown between us, it's my fault for not believing in them fully or for not being able to control my own expenses more efficiently so that I can afford to be more sociable. A mistake I don't intend to commit again and that I need to address.
My day to day must change though. Or better still my time off work must be more productive and more fulfilling. It is wasted at the moment, too often I have hid behind tiredness and lack of sleep.
It is in this that I must change my mindset. That I need to grow up. And become more responsible.
Taking my own life more seriously, kick the sadness and complacency away.
Learn and develop and not let my life waste way in front of a screen.
It is difficult to find the motivation.
This great void that exists in my soul is a greater weight to bear than I realised.
And it is this weight and this emptiness that is dragging me down.
Which I try very hard to suppress and which efforts in the end consume me.
I have been waiting for a saviour.
I think I have a desire to have someone so that I can be saved.
It is not out of a unselfish desire.
It is because I am waiting for someone to save me which is not fair.
It's an impossible task.
How can you ask someone to make you happy if you are not already happy with yourself?
Is it this that drives people away...?
When I look at my life now and it was like then it is very similar.
What have I learnt?
How have I changed?
Things did change actually and I have changed, but in truth my lifestyle hasn't and maybe it's time that has caught up with the rest of me.
I am older, more experienced, in a way more cynical but at the same time less angry and anxious. More sad some days.
I have loved and I have suffered and I have longed and I have recovered. That was an intense experience that surpassed what I'd had before. Yet, despite all those torrents of emotion it was never consummated, it was unresponded, and I have yet to experience and deal with the other side of a relationship so there's still much to learn I'm sure, eventually if ever...
I am still lacking the drive and the motivation to do certain things to have a certain get up and go in my own personal life, something that I can do professionally, which I have learnt and honed over the last few years but that I have not translated to myself.
And it is in this that I have to grow.and change and move forward. I don't know what I have been waiting for. Somebody to change me? No. Somebody to kick me up the arse? Maybe. In some respects I already got that but not fully, not completely.
The question is why?
Why am I so complacent?
Why do I procrastinate so much?
Why am I so lazy in my own life?
Why do give in to commodity?
I know it's because it's easy, but it does not make me any happier.
All this television and consoles and games are just distractions, a way to fill a void, to pass the time that is easy to give in to. The excuse has always been money, and to a certain extent it still is. I've been trying to be more social and I have succeeded, but I'm afraid I may have left it too late.
That's not fair, it's not late to make friends it's never too late for that and I have been strengthening relationships which has been great, I just have to face up that I'm a grown up, adult life is not about going out all the time, but if you're on your own and you're not in a relationship it's what you look forward to. And what other way is there to find a meaningful relationship if not leaving the house and meet people? For that it may be too late as most people are already in a relationship, most of your friends are married, soon to be or in a stable relationship, so meeting new single people is an act of extreme improbability.
Yet it is what I must do, and in fairness, I have neglected certain people and in turn distance has grown between us, it's my fault for not believing in them fully or for not being able to control my own expenses more efficiently so that I can afford to be more sociable. A mistake I don't intend to commit again and that I need to address.
My day to day must change though. Or better still my time off work must be more productive and more fulfilling. It is wasted at the moment, too often I have hid behind tiredness and lack of sleep.
It is in this that I must change my mindset. That I need to grow up. And become more responsible.
Taking my own life more seriously, kick the sadness and complacency away.
Learn and develop and not let my life waste way in front of a screen.
It is difficult to find the motivation.
This great void that exists in my soul is a greater weight to bear than I realised.
And it is this weight and this emptiness that is dragging me down.
Which I try very hard to suppress and which efforts in the end consume me.
I have been waiting for a saviour.
I think I have a desire to have someone so that I can be saved.
It is not out of a unselfish desire.
It is because I am waiting for someone to save me which is not fair.
It's an impossible task.
How can you ask someone to make you happy if you are not already happy with yourself?
Is it this that drives people away...?
31 January, 2012
Adele inspired
Can I let you hurt me again?
Will I lose myself once more?
Am I allowing myself to be dragged in only to be used and abused and dumped out unceremoniously?
I want to believe...
That I won't
That you've changed
That I can control my emotions
That time has healed and made me stronger
That distance will not allow me to get sucked in
But I don't know...
If I can control my feelings
Despite the distance
If I cannot allow myself to hope
Even if it's a faint tenuous one
If I can stop myself from obsessing
And start the whole cycle again
Because it would kill me
It's good that there is distance
That I do not see you
Touch you
Hear you
Laugh
It's good that there are only memories
Of the (little) time we spent together
Of your smile
Of your eyes
Because I'd be trying...
To save you
Be your knight in shining armour
To convince you are worthy
To plead for you to give me a chance
To be your one and only
One of these days... dare I hope it?
Will I lose myself once more?
Am I allowing myself to be dragged in only to be used and abused and dumped out unceremoniously?
I want to believe...
That I won't
That you've changed
That I can control my emotions
That time has healed and made me stronger
That distance will not allow me to get sucked in
But I don't know...
If I can control my feelings
Despite the distance
If I cannot allow myself to hope
Even if it's a faint tenuous one
If I can stop myself from obsessing
And start the whole cycle again
Because it would kill me
It's good that there is distance
That I do not see you
Touch you
Hear you
Laugh
It's good that there are only memories
Of the (little) time we spent together
Of your smile
Of your eyes
Because I'd be trying...
To save you
Be your knight in shining armour
To convince you are worthy
To plead for you to give me a chance
To be your one and only
One of these days... dare I hope it?
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