A Touch of Solitary

Dark nights, blank walls, and quiet rooms. I find myself here frequently. It’s a yearning for interaction, a desire to connect that settles within my heart like snow in a snow globe, just waiting for me to shake things up.

I grew up learning not to rely on people. I learned that all I needed were the worlds that I created for myself as a barrier to keep out the chill. I chose not to involve people with the goings on in my life, and it made things simple.
As I’ve grown older, I realized that it was unsustainable. Eventually, I had to venture out and face the world.  This is partly because of my aspirations, and partly because I, unfortunately, was exposed to the alternative to my fantasy, reality; given experiences that provided me then unknown satisfaction.

It’s been ramping up, my desire to connect with people, with each year that passes. I am a mixed breed of one part introvert and one part extrovert which makes things complex. I want to stay home and work, but I crave the adventure of conversation that awaits around every corner.
People are important in my life; it’s a fundamental part of myself that seeks out these relationships. Each one is providing me a key ingredient for getting through the week. It’s within them that I get to enjoy deep conversation, talking about controversial issues, conversing about the basic building blocks of the human condition

I don’t know how much is enough, or when I will be satiated with interaction but when I am not purposefully alone that I feel the chill and pull to going out and connecting.  I do take time for myself when I need it,  but it’s like going to a cafe; when you are there alone on purpose, it can be a sweet relief but when you are waiting for someone to come it can be awkward and nerve-wracking.

Life has taught me something; I can’t expect these relationships to appear out of thin air either.  If I want something I have to ask for it; people won’t simply know I need it. Last year I had expected it all to come together without any effort, which leads me down a lonesome road.  This year I know that I want to work for what I want and how important these relationships are to me.

So, to end this, I want to say that thank you all for the conversations we’ve had, the stories that we’ve told, and the experiences we’ve shared. You all are important to me in different ways, so know that you make a difference. I hope to see you soon.
And to all the people I haven’t met and talked to yet, I am thrilled to make your acquaintance.

Mixed Messages

A message is only as good as its delivery.
If given a message that is negative or critical it’s important that you include a methodology of how to fix the problem, or the message falls flat. It’s then only half a message, an incomplete phase that unfortunately can resonate within someone. It’s these messages that we receive that make a difference in how we perceive the world.

I am a critical person, not on those around me but myself. I am infinitely hard on myself, because of my belief that if I want something to change I have to be the catalyst for it.  I found that I have been giving myself these unfinished messages, these incomplete statements of criticism.   Stopping at the what I am doing wrong, and never getting to how to fix it.

In this state, life just gets heavier and becomes hard to be productive.  Things that I have been working on for months become more involved when I can’t reach the expectation I desire.  Habits I have form become weights that bind me.  It’s in these times that I have to recollect the purpose which I am working.  Positive changes shouldn’t feel like punishment, but when with a crossed message, it can feel grueling.

I realize that my posts have been concentrating on this negative aspect. These lessons I have been learning through blood, sweat, and tears are what spend the time to write.  It’s then when I continue to struggle, that I give no closure to the problem, and the weight is placed once more on my shoulders.  I continue to take the time to look inwardly to find other lessons I can learn, consequently never finishing the lessons that came before.

One or two of these things is something I can handle, but as the weight stacks I become lethargic. It’s this closure, a focus on the solution, rather than the problem that I need.  The lesson the weight is to come to terms with the issues that I face, and allow myself leeway to finish what I have started.

What I need most is to finish my messages, allow myself to end on a high note.  Giving myself a path to travel allows me some relief.  So I will give myself these words, finish the day on a high note, and give myself closure to the problems that I face.
So I will end this with the message that I can make things better, change the way the messages comes across and continue to push forward into making these messages to create a brighter future for myself and those around me.  After all, I am the catalyst of changing my fate.

How to Define A Line

It has come to my attention that I have trouble defining who I am. It is something that I look to others for insight.  Using others a mirror of sorts, looking for feedback. I can tell you that when everything is right, this isn’t a problem, but when thing takes an unexpected turn sometimes, my whole identity is shaken.

It’s not as dramatic as it sounds, it takes time for the layers of me unravel.  The longer the detour, the more I have trouble with this.  Only after unraveling everything I am gets called into question. Who am I?  What do I mean to other? What role I play in their lives? How do they see me and is that how see myself? These are questions I have asked myself FAR too many times.  I try to be as self-aware as possible.  Knowing my faults and working on them. I have a worry I cannot see everything, and that I am missing a glaring imperfection in my personality.  I am hard on myself for that reason, looking for errors so that I can fix them.  That is under the juvenile pretense if I can fix myself enough people will love me.

It’s silly and ridiculous, the notion of needing to be good enough for love.  I can give a long history of reasons as to why I feel this way, and knowing enough about people gives me the insight that that idea is purely internal. I know it’s wrong to feel this way, but my other concern is the feeling come and goes as it pleases, not to when it pleases me.

At this point, I have trouble with who I am.  Doubt is born within my heart and mind.
I am smart, but I don’t get treated like I’m smart so maybe I’m not.
I am fun to be around, but no one seems to want to be around me so maybe I’m not.
I am dependable, but no one depends on me so maybe I’m not.
It’s these ridiculous things that I hate in myself.  It whispers in my ear, telling me that I am not, and I will never be.

I am consistent, having learned to fight through it. I found traits based on my perceptions.
I am healthy.
I am a deep thinker.
I am serious and have a dry wit.
Adding to my lists, I am creating a building that requires no one to keep it standing.

I don’t know if cutting people out of this process is a right or wrong, but I do know it does help with sanity when I can lesson the load on I expect from others.  Self-esteem is not my strongest trait, alternatively, self-efficacy is.  I may not be the most confident with who I am, but I am confident with I can do. Anything I put my mind to.

Maybe I am too caught up with the man in the mirror and should be more concerned with what he does than who he may be.

Funny Boy

I have a serious nature by default, one which I inherited from my father along with a sarcastic tone.  That’s not to say that everything has to be serious, but the words that I speak carry a dry wit, a calm sensibility, or an almost ridiculous notion on every utterance. Truth be told, I can’t help it. It’s a consequence of my always overthinking nature – which as I have said before gets me in more trouble than it’s worth.  Now, that is to say; I do have my moments of comedy. But in the grand scheme of existence, I default to talking about the nuances of life instead of saying something funny.

It’s problematic, as you might know, to constantly bog down a conversation with reality.  It makes for conversations that carry too much weight and (much to the chagrin of social scientists everywhere) people don’t want to talk about that type of stuff all the time.  Against my best efforts, my conversations can become humorous and light. Which are always a joy to have but I don’t know how to get there except frequent happy accidents.

What can I do, this reflection all came to head with the fact that I became unfunny, which to some isn’t a huge difference. But, it was something that I had taken for granted.  For the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend how the change happened. What was left is seriousness and the weight it carries.

Usually, that’s not usually an issue; I am young and healthy so I know how to wear the weight, it’s just that my favorite thing in the world is people’s smiles.  Now try to get someone to smile when you are talking about the various problems of life and history.  Usually, that only makes a handful of people happy.

Humor is, at least to me, is about taking the world and changing it in such a way that sad thoughts can become a happy one. My goal in life is to understand pretty much everything this world has to offer and that includes what makes people happy.

Now I am not going to say that I have to change my serious nature; it keeps me on track and surprisingly calm about most things in life.  What I do need is to lighten up a little, allow things to be stretched and skewed a little bit. That little twist is sometimes the thing that changes crying from sadness and crying from laughter. So wish me luck on this endeavor, god knows I will need it.

The Road


I have been on a road, a long one, that has had many twists and turns. I recollected when I got on this particular path. It was about a year ago when I set out on this journey. What’s interesting to note is that this journey started when I got back from the realization of one of my dreams, the dream of travel.

Looking back, I can use my two selves, past and present, as a measuring stick, and a way to track what his year done to me.  I wonder if my eyes and face carry the new experiences within them.
I can look at the scars, and lessons I’ve accumulated; finding the meaning in this year within them.  As with time, I can only move one direction, forward. Seeing the path before me, I know that I will need the knowledge gained through my blood, sweat, and tears to see the end of this rail.Though I have looked back a great deal this year, it is not without reason. I found looking in the past that I can learn to improve myself, and to find understanding in the path I am traveling.  My reason is a way to become self-aware so that the mistakes and shortcomings of yesterday become the mortar for the character which I build today.

Though I have looked back a great deal this year, it is not without reason. I found looking in the past that I can learn to improve myself, and to find understanding in the path I am traveling.  My reason is a way to become self-aware so that the mistakes and shortcomings of yesterday become the mortar for the character which I build today.
I choose not to live in the past, for the past as the future, is deceptive and gives way to distortion of perspective.

All I have then is the present, which I use to set the destination for the future I want. Unfortunately,  the road is long and has been taking too many detours for my liking.
I’m told to enjoy the ride, as the road curves and bows I can’t help but have an uneasy anticipation asking when I will be set loose.
I can see where I want to go but not where the road will take me.  I am then at the mercy of the path before me. I continue to hone my skills, work to make sure when the time comes I will be ready but it’s this wait that is getting to me.
The lessons are hard, forcing me to become uncomfortable, pushing me to pick up the lessons I have neglected.  It’s these lessons in patience and pride that are sometimes the most difficult. Am I becoming a more complete person? I believe so; it’s on this journey that I realize that I can create the person I want to be and not just the route that I travel.

I have been told, it’s a time of great transition, of movement, of change.  It certainly has tested me in unexpected ways.  Unforeseen bumps, holes, and problems have tested my grit.  How much to do I want my dream, how much will I pay for, how much will I sacrifice. I have, at points, needed to endure the suffering. Feeling stripped and cold, I know that I can use this as a way to strengthen my resolve. For as to what the future hold, I petition the great forces of this world to allow me to take life the proverbial horns and let me work for what I want.
In this year that is plagued with solitude and suffering, I have learned to create the world I want around me.  Establishing field where famine was, and flowers within the concrete.
My work lays unfinished as my road stretches ever onward into the horizon, I am though, fortunate to know that it was year unwasted.


Sides and Slivers Of Self

Within the scope of my life, I have always been true to myself, something that has gotten gradually harder and more convoluted to do. The reason is that my personal self has split like a tree growing branches. Leading to who I am to a great part to spread wide and reach far.  It is sometimes confusing when I look at two distant branches because even though they come from the same tree, they are two very different sides of me.

I have a self; that is both static and dynamic. Like various settings on a tv, I have different optimal settings for various situations. When I look how far apart they are sometimes, I get confused.  A lot of the time, how I act is wholly dependent on where I was in life when I met the person and what worked best with the relationship.  Though my inner changes and grows as a whole, a lot of the nuances will stay the same.  Take for instance, with the people I met at college, the conversations goes deep into philosophy, psychology, history, and the way the world works, with a combination of sarcasm and witticisms.   Where those who I had met before, I tend to be more inclined to be more reserved with ideas, concentrating more on the event and having fun than all the world’s problems. Now these are examples of some of the things that stand out to me about these relationships but by no means the entire picture.  These persons I am are all equally me, but in some ways separate from each other.  Causing concern if they were ever to connect, what would be the result of the personality collision.

I have come to a place where there are large distinctions of who I am and what I can do.  It is strange, when interacting with those I met through college, that assure me of my ability and believe that I will achieve what I want to achieve in both schooling and life.  Those I met before or outside of schooling have a different notion.  Not that the concept is wrong, but it’s fascinating to see the difference. We all grew up in a variety of ways and met each other at various times, so maybe it is the role we are destined to play in each other lives.

What has me mulling over this thought is how to I unite these branched selves, so people see the tree and not the branches if that is necessary.  It’s a confusing conundrum, bringing it all together so that it doesn’t feel so disjointed when interacting on all of these separate planes. In some part, people can’t be contained to one context alone, but the process of learning them all takes time and effort.

The amalgamation of who I am and what I do will eventually coalesce into the person I intend to be, I just have to hope that people will be there to accept me on the other side.

Karma, Chimera

For years, it may seem silly; I always wanted to find an animal that I embody.  It’s not important; it’s more of a fun game.  Some people are cats, others dogs, lions, tigers, and bears; an endless variety of animal to pick one and don’t seem to emulate any of them well.

I have thought about it for years and asked countless people. Unfortunately, there is never a clear answer.  Whenever a clear answer is absent, my mind goes wild trying to find the answer, even if the question is not worthwhile.  I think it’s because there was no clear defined result. Looking for that particular answer is what I wanted but was deprived. Now over the years I was given many different answers by many different people nothing seemed to fit.

I thought about it for a while; I tried to match my qualities to animals I liked or ones I thought I might be. Chameleons for their ever changing and blending nature. A stag, just for the imagery and both strong but harmonious nature.  Bear because of my size, hair, and warm nature. A monkey for its intelligence. A Fox for its cleverness.  A piglet in light of the meaning of my last name. Nothing fits well…

It’s a conundrum, I both love and hate the ambiguity of it.  In not being defined, it is easy to be free of the notions of prejudice. It feels good to be novel and have the ability to forge a new path . Opposing this is the alienating feeling of not being able to come together with anyone and feeling lost in the muck of life with no signpost to guide me.

I decided I must define myself, create the existence I want to be, find the strengths of those around me and learn them. Learn from the pitfalls of the overconfident rabbit, and the patience of a tortoise.  I am greedy in that way, I want to learn and be all them.  It was then I realized I will emulate the mythical creature of the chimera. Something that is a combination of many different animals. Something that can’t be outright defined because of its confusing nature. I know its a bit of a cheat but at least to me it feels right that I can be many bits and pieces that coalesce into one being. I am the result of taking and learning from all those around me, in some ways people in my life become part of me as I continue to live my life. I don’t know which combination I will be at the end of the day but I am a combination in the truest way.

Maybe I didn’t need the question after all, because how can you define an entire existence so simply.

Nostalgia: A Pain I Can’t Get Rid Of

Dreams, I have been having dreams filled with people and things I don’t want to think about. The problem is not that they are bad dreams, quite the contrary, the dreams are so beautiful they hurt to have.

The thing that comes to mind is the idea of nostalgia, what I remember is a small speech from the show Madmen talking about its meaning.  It’s explained that it means a pain of an old wound. It is the combination of the two ancient Greek words meaning pain and homecoming. It was a description originally used to explain the feelings of Swiss mercenaries fighting away from home.  It’s a sense of melancholy that I can’t escape.

This pain that I’ve gotten used to, a hurt that will go away as long as I don’t think about it but I can’t help but think about it. The wound is in my heart because it just wants to go home.  I have lost the home for my heart; I had given my heart away and when it was returned to me it was a foreign object.  It didn’t fit; it was treated warmly, but I didn’t know how to handle own heart. So it yearns for that, the cozy, comfortable space in which it grew.

My heart and I are attempting to understand each other.  We were apart for so long that we know that we have to spend some time together. I get familiar with what my heart wants and needs; the problem is the memories engraved on my heart.  The memories repeat the experiences of when it was treated well, when it was happy, when it was hurt, and when it was sad.  Like a record replaying over and over growing increasingly quiet as time goes on.

It’s the great unraveling of things, the desensitization of spirit.  The memory that begins as a situation and starts to turn into a story.  It hurts because of the memories and feelings of being so close for so long will eventually become nothing more than words.  The great human experience calls for us to keep moving forward if we want to survive and thrive.   So the memories will fade, and so will the pain. But it’s this feeling of nostalgia that allows me a glimpse of the experience, and is all that is left, but I know that too will erode with time becoming a memory of memory.

My mind and my heart are having a hard time with that; I can honestly say that it’s a pain that means something to me.  My heart is telling me its time to heal, telling me to wait until I am ready, it’s emptying out it contents, pain and all.

The pang of nostalgia.  I can’t get away from it, and the best thing to do is to have the feeling. Each one an echo of its former self.   Sometimes I want to deny the pain, the hurt so that the memory and feeling will linger a little bit longer, but I know that I have to let go. One day it will be gone, and my heart will be filled with other memories, but until then all I have are my dreams that are so beautiful they hurt.

Dream Catching

Sorting through my memories this week, I found the beginning of one my great loves.  Sleeping over at a friends house, up late when with no one around. Laying in front of television that was playing the usual infomercials as the night pressed on. I changed the channel to Cartoon Network. The channel was showing its adult swim programming and stumbled up a marathon of a show called Bleach. I sat there in amazement of the show for hours as the episodes marched on accordingly.  When the marathon concluded at 6 am, I realized that I had found something that I would fall in love. Anime and Manga.

From that point on I spent countless hours delving into that world.  Summers would be spent watching and reading innumerable episodes and chapters.  Part of me thinks that all that time spent in front of a computer may have been the thing that forced me to wear glasses. Now from the outside, it can look a bit strange which it is understandable but with most things, it’s only strange until you see it.

What is the point of this love? For me, anime and manga allow me to dream and feel as if I were in a different world. It has a way of inspiring me to be better, trying harder, and pushing against the difficulties that I come across in my life. Living through the characters, dreaming of being as strong as they are, and realizing that I am the catalyst to my destiny are all things I learned by sifting through the material.

What is most important is that it grants me a kind of energy to dream big. To dream of being able to change the world. To dream about becoming something incredibly grand and grandiose. To dream about how magical the world is and how to appreciate the small things in life. When I get through the material, I am reinvigorated.

I use this energy to apply it my life as a force of change.  Coming with the power of the human spirit at my back, doing things that seemed impossible a few days ago are easy.  I think it’s important that people find that stuff in their life.  The thing that somehow give them energy even when it is effortful.  Something gives us more than what we put into it so we can use the result to make a real change in the world.

The things that foster the little infinitesimal thoughts to grow.  It provided me with hope and understanding of the world.  A way to relate and see the world differently than before. To make me feel like my heart will beat differently because of the point of view given.

Of course, it is silly, funny, dramatic, stupid, sad, hopeful, surprising, and scary – but at the end of the day, it makes me feel, think, and act.  It springs hope from within and allows me to believe in simple ideas have weight and should be pursued. That I can, and I should no matter the challenge.

I owe a lot to this love of mine, and its one of the things few things I get passionate about sharing with others. I realized that it is about finding those things and never letting go.  As I get older my love for anime and manga changes, it makes me afraid that my love will fade. I know that at least for now I have the dreams that it has given me.

A Comforting Struggle

My legs radiate soreness; my eyes feel tired, the hours in the day aren’t enough to finish everything anymore.  I keep pushing, pursuing, and polishing myself until I give off an undeniable sheen.  Day to day, keep moving until I get to the end. I am always craving the comfort of the past.  Not knowing when I will be able to stop but afraid of stop because I’m not sure if I will be able to move again.

My situation has repeatedly been changing over months.  Foundations within and without requiring more and more of me.  Luckily, I have been in the process of growing and changing to meet these challenges, but each one cares away another of the comforts I knew in the past.  Routine sets in, the only way to squeeze all that I can from the day. But with each rinse and repeat, I find myself farther away from the person I was months ago.

Things I do become rationalized through the guise of growth; everything else is superfluous. I do take the time to keep my sanity.  Outside of time in which I spend with others, which is always worthwhile, I spend the rest of my day with nose to the grindstone.  The last vestiges of time where I sought comfort to hide from future come out as treats for having accomplished what I needed to throughout the day.

I have always believed in the strength and adaptability of human nature in that; I choose to find comfort in the struggle, the pressing of myself until I lay a solid foundation for the future. Find fuel in my frustrations, a seemingly inexhaustible variety.

It’s in this thought process that I am afraid that I will break, or not achieve all that I need to.  The burning idea of who I could be and what I can do versus what I am and what I do now drives me forward to this point.

I ask myself how long will my legs feel tired, how long will my eyes weigh heavy, how much longer until I get more hours in the day. I don’t know the answer, but I do know that I can’t stop now, I have only just begun.

I keep going until I am called crazy, or ridiculous.  Until no one understands how I can keep going, not even myself.  It is only in these feats of incredible perseverance that I will know that I am half way there. It’s at this time that I will find the joy in my working and comfort in my struggle.