writing

Word Bleed

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I talk. I talk too much. This habit of mine of continuing to fill the air with mindlessness is killing me. I don’t know how to stop, all I want to do is listen, but I can’t help myself, I just talk and talk.

It’s getting worse, and I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s lack of sleep or nerves.  This is becoming a bad habit, one I want to break before it even it even starts.  It doesn’t help that I regain this composure in the middle of conversations, too late, even as I try to backtrack the words keep coming, and I can’t stop them from spilling out

It’s not like word vomit, it’s not something I am shoving down within me coming back up, it feels like words bleeding past my lips. An open wound with no bandage spilling from within to without onto the world.  This blood of words revealing everything wrong and inadequate about myself, slowly exposing more with every drop. These words falling meaninglessly onto the floor along with my being, answering questions nobody asks and reporting things people don’t want to know.

I’m starting to feel like all the random facts I accumulated in my head is just a means to cope with this excessiveness.  To always have something to say in even the most obscure situations. But what does that say about me, that  I need to speak, am I afraid of the silence, or am worried at what the silence might reveal, that I am just a man with a dream that he doesn’t feel good enough for.

With each word, I lose a little of that calm demeanor, class, and poise. I shed off these preconceptions hoping that what is left is something worthwhile. Sometimes I just want to stay quiet, slink back and let the silence rest upon me for a while.  Maybe things would change then, maybe people will see something more without the discord. All I want is freedom from this feeling so I can be alright with who I am inside let my actions shine brighter.

How do I stop this bleeding? How do I stop these word’s from pouring out, how do I keep these words from spilling from my lips?

Why do I even speak in the first place?

Graduating Sweet

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May through June many eager students finish their credits and classes to finally break free the holds of a school and receive a diploma verifying their achievements and training that they spent years trying to obtain.  It’s a very happy time, though can be bittersweet because in it’s nature it represents an inevitable change in the world for a great many people.

This was how this year’s graduation felt, bittersweet. Never have I ever been so invested in the wellbeing of my upperclassmen as I have this past year.  I have been to a great many graduations, but this one was a send-off to many people who I have spoken to, connected to, and love. I sat there thinking about this as one after one, each of my friends got up to be honored for their great achievements of which they all should be extremely proud.  For a moment sitting there, I want them all to just stick around, for nothing to change, for next week just to be next week and not a path to something new.

I’m not an emotional person, I am extremely passionate but I am not one to tear up during these events. Why should I? I am so happy for these people to move forward with their lives, to find their new adventures and get on with their journeys. We still have our memories together right, they won’t forget these times together.  Yeah sure, a couple months or years from now they might get busy but it won’t change our relationship, regardless of how much longer it takes them to reply. They will all be meeting new people, learning new things, and being great in their own way and staying will only hold them back, and they need to fly in their own way because there so much for them in the skies ahead.

Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet, and if it hasn’t it won’t for a while. Probably not until after everything settles down and I recognize how much I have gotten used to their presence. Maybe after not being able to hear their laugh in the hall,  or being able to wander into the lab and talk about some far off idea, Maybe after starting to miss these strange conversations we would have, and missing the familiar faces I no longer see. I will miss them all in their own ways because they all mattered to me.

I am lucky, during graduation sat next to my friends who I have spent the last year with, working, growing, and laughing together. I will have them this next year as this stressful program continues to push us to the moment we are standing on stage graduating together. I am happy I still have them with me because if everyone left, I don’t know what I would do.

We will all see each other again, but my hope is when it comes time and I get up on that stage, that I am at least half as great as any of my friends I saw graduating today.

Mind Blank

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I couldn’t think, or write. I had used my resources up and hadn’t recovered.  All it felt like was like mind went blank.

It was like working out too hard, each time I tried to use it my brain all I felt was how tired I was. Over the last month, I have been moving from place to place, activity to activity, going to weddings, conferences, getting sick, and turning in final papers and my head just had enough.  It’s honestly the first time I have ever felt this way, so brain drained that I needed just to sit and do nothing for a while. The first time in months I picked a video game because I needed the sweet relief on not having to process anything, just to work on doing something mindless as I recovered. Sure I have been tired but never like this. It’s worse than when we are around people too long because all that takes is being alone, or resting from the working out when you just avoid the activity. Have you ever tried to avoid thinking, especially if you are a chronic overthinker?
It felt like putting keys into an old car and trying to turn on the engine. The repeated attempts to turn the car over as you hear the revving over and over, sure it will start but doesn’t sound like it wants to.

I had to keep at it, needed to delay this rest as long as possible. Stuff was still due (it still is) and so much was pouring on my head. Maybe it was from the lack of breathing from all the work I’ve been trying to finish or the lack of sleep I have been getting. It wasn’t even like a zen emptiness or a meditative state, just uncomfortable blank.

Either way, it weird feeling, when your brain needs a break.  Maybe it will get bigger after this, though I think with all I am doing, its probably more harm than good.

 

One Day Of Rest

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IMGP4183.jpgOne day, I finally found one day.  One day free of alarm clocks, things to do, people to see. One day of rest that my body so needs.

Thes black lines on a page that I so diligently have written are starting to move away from me.  I keep a schedule, writing in it all I have to do and all I plan to do, but with each passing day it becomes harder and harder to write into it.

Why?

Because of the incessantness of it.  My hands ache when I hold that pen to the paper because it means that there is no end. I need time, space in my book to rejuvenate, to allow these moments of rest come. Day after day, like raindrops in a forest I feel this showering of duties up me.  I know this rain will end eventually but I want at the moment is an old tree to shelter me so I have a place to lay my head.

I know I ask for this, I overbook myself to the point where I can’t breathe.  Where my mind goes blank, my body gets tired, and I get sick. It’s something I have to do to keep moving forward in this grand festival of life.  What I do today is all for tomorrow, this place where I finally achieve what I want. I’m told I am almost there, a place where I can grab it, just make it through these moments and it will all be over soon.

I will rest today so when tomorrow comes I can be strong and free. I will rest today so when the future comes I will be ready to fight for it with all of me.

A Thousands Not Enough

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It’s like drugs I think, working towards something you love.  Each and every day I feel consumed by it, consumed by wanting it, always pushing for it. From dawn til dusk and from dusk til dawn  I work or think about working all the time which I know isn’t the most balanced way to live but if I wanted a balanced life I wouldn’t have chosen academia as a goal.  But it reminds me of a saying from high school when they made us do drug prevention education.  One’s too much, a thousand not enough.

It’s hard sometimes because it always feels like I’m behind. When I am sitting alone with my thoughts, it comes up. I should be productive right now, the better me would be productive.  My imagined competition doesn’t have these problems or worries, they simply work.  They are a machine and by the time we both apply, their long grocery list of accomplishments dwarfs the lines on my applications I managed to throw together. These thoughts have started to peek into my normal life, my social life, my relaxation.

I know I should keep many of these things in life separate, but I can’t, or more like I won’t.  It flows through me, and in some ways is me. To be so intertwined is ultimately detrimental for my wellbeing, for I will live and die in this small world that has no reason or recourse to reciprocate my feelings.  It’s a dangerous thing, dreaming, not because of what happens when you’re doing it but what happens after you wake up.  So I must tear myself away from it kicking and screaming, enjoy the world around me while it lasts, invest in other things knowing full well that each moment I spend away is a moment deprived from my goal.  I should think of it as an investment, it’s always good to diversify my portfolio, but I found the one thing I want to be the best at, so it’s hard to pull away from feeding this monster.

I have to turn off at some point. Let go and drift for a while to rest. Other people deserve my attention, and I should give it to them.  It’s what they deserve, and it’s with them that I will make it through.

These restless moments, this forlorn daydreaming keeps me going and pushing forward into the day where everything is always slightly out of reach.

Meta Self Contemplation

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I started this blog a long time ago with the intended purpose to think and put into writing aspects of my life.  It was always something I had wanted to do, keep a record of things as I go from place to place.  The record of my life as it is for both people to read and to go back on to find the steps I have taken on this journey. The motivation came from different sources, the deterioration of my personal relationships, the darkening of my outlook, my desire to change and be open with the world.  It has been what fueled me, but I have fallen short of my goals in some ways, though I keep at it, hoping to find the light out in the darkness.

I write because I like to write and think about my life.  It’s what I am good at, or at least thats what people tell me. I have been thinking about my life since I began to think, always wondering if those insignificant moments that pass me by would mean anything to me, if the person who lived through those moments would be remembered or evaporate like the morning dew from the onset of the heat of the day. I have largely kept these thoughts a secret,  for the scars on my heart seal up words within as a way to protect my being from the onslaught of unwanted spotlights.

This perspective changed though in my recollection of a midnight reflection, suffering in the silence over the lady I loved.  I sat there under the starlight in the quiet stillness of the early hours breaking down, unable or maybe unwilling to change.  I needed to do something, both for myself and for those around me, I needed to win and break out of this tumultuous cycle of inability.  So what did I do, the last thing most people would think I would do, write. I wrote because I could. I wrote because needed to. I wrote because every ounce of my being told me to.

So I fought towards the light, and though I lost much, I learned a lot.  In this journey, I ripped and sewed together pieces of myself in the hopes of righting all that I am, so in the future, I could walk taller than I did that day.  Each word I wrote was a struggle, years of grammatical challenges don’t bode well for self-confidence. But here I am and here I think, I have I really laid myself bare upon the page? Have really reconstructed myself from within.  Old problems still arise and each time I am given an opportunity to change, and truth be told, I fail more than I would like but I keep walking.

What is the point of this message then, what have I learned.  I have talked about being open and honest and yet at the keys I avoid or soften these truths about myself in fear and loathing, in pride and “protection”.  I know this keeps me from truth, and liberty of these thoughts and feelings.  It keeps me from really pouring my heart onto a page.  You can’t filter out your soul and expect people to feel it.

I will change that though, now:

I am a mixture of self-confident, and self-depreciating, never letting me fly too high because I am worried about the fall, but also crushed when I miss my opportunity in be in the sky
I am afraid of my scars and memories, I flinch when coming across old moments and triggers. I reminds me of who I was and I fear if I stay to long I will return to this powerless younger self. I spend time moving through to heal but I still feel the marks on my soul.
I try to be a good friend and family member, and it is a work in progress. Years of trying to distance yourself from other people has that affect on you.
I love from the bottom of my heart everyone one in my life.  I could be from the shattered self-esteem of my youth but in growing into who I am has taught me to appreciate those moments I have with other people because in my eyes they are you are your own personal miracle.
I am bad at telling people how I feel about them.
I just want to help people, know what it’s like to suffer and struggle, know you are not alone and I am here to give what I can.
I am bad at asking for help.
I am afraid I am not enough great things, that I am destined for mediocrity.
Whenever I think I am smart, the universe seems to want to remind me that I am not as smart as I think I am.
I have been through major depression twice in my life.
I have been through major depression twice in my life.
For a long time, I was afraid to love because of a worry that it will never be as deep and full as the love I had before.
I don’t understand why people like more or want to be around me.
I don’t believe people when they tell me I look nice.
I honestly just like being a nice person, no strings attached.
I sincerely believe that anyone is capable of pretty much anything, the bad, and the great alike, you just need to find your way of doing it.
I am religious (Catholic), and I don’t really know why I just like it and I am still trying to figure it out.
I like to learn about politics and listen to new opinions, but to be honest, I think most of what people are saying is kinda stupid, nothing is black and white and yet most of politics treats the world that way.
I believe most people want to do good out there in the world and are innately good.
I do have common sense.
I want to be one of the great minds of the twenty-first century.
My greatest fear is to be forgotten.

In laying this out, I hope to clear this veneer that lays between me and my thoughts.  I want to be better, so I will do it, one step at a time.

 

How To Cultivate A Thought Parasite

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It’s happened again, these crises of the mind and spirit.  I feel it in my bones, fear. What am I to do. The rising tide of anxiety washes over me, drowning me it’s dense waters. Leaving me gasping for air in the cold abyss of failure. Grasping for air, and hoping to get out.

This past week I was confronted by the smallest of the invasive thoughts that fed and grew in the back of my mind quickly.  It’s the lack of sleep I said, or perhaps the hunger.  I’ve just been pushing myself too hard, but that’s it’s breeding grounds.  When my mental defenses are lowered, it strikes at me, claiming more and more of my brain, consuming me and my thoughts.  There I am, battling against the creature who uses the voice in my head to try and convince me that I am no good. Trying to convince me to lay down again and begin to die.

It often follows those highs of experience, I know mine does. This one came after a let a small daydream free, and it became a nightmare.  The thoughts in my mind surging after this mental parasite to stop the spread but it was already too late, it implanted itself in my insecurities of the past, fertile ground for a thought so sweet. A feeling of grandeur turns to ash as my capability comes into question.  “You will never be good enough to get this far,” it says,  “Turn back, collapse, you know your just setting yourself up to fail.” I don’t know what to do, the foundation I build for myself feels more and more like a house of cards teetering on the precipice of collapse.  What is this, will it be good enough. My path once more becomes obscured and dark.  How far will I be able to go, and even if I give it my all, will that be enough?

I realize I’ve invested now, that was my mistake.  I am invested in a future I want so bad that my heart cries out to me as I speak it.  This is where I went wrong, didn’t your childhood teach you not to do this. Not to invest in one way or another because you will be let down again and again. I can’t help myself, I want it so bad that I am willing to give all away for a second in that world.  A passion that erupts and drives me forward, that want’s to turn into the crazed obsession of a madman with a purpose and a goal.

“You just are strong enough” it retorts, “You never have been, and you never will be.”  This thought, drawing back blow after blow to strike at me is right.  I feel like I’ve had so many chances and through these chances I have successfully squandered my dream in the pretense of comfort and mediocrity.  I just hope, time after time, hour after hour, that I will wash away these inadequacies and show the world that I am someone. I don’t know though, my guard is down, and my weakness is revealed, my self-esteem takes a blow. All I am is human, and maybe I am not enough.

Truth is I am weak.  I am weak and at times incapable.  I am an emotional creature who waxes and wanes on the mood of the day. At times unable because of the wall of inability that rises up ahead of me. I’m loud and think before I speak.  I sometimes say some funny things and do even weirder ones. My brain fills up sometimes, and I feel like an idiot because I don’t understand what is going on.  I know this, this is just what it’s like to be human. I know this limitation, and that’s okay because that’s all we all are. Being human, and together we can actually do some good and make life beautiful. As long as I know that, I will be okay. As as I know that, I can get rid of the parasitic thought in my brain.

The Wall of Dreams

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I’ve seen it now, the wall that I am to defeat. The one on the far end of the frontier of ability, at the edge of talent, and potential.  I saw but a glimpse of it, that day when I reached the end of where my body allowed me to go.  I saw it, the sheer concrete slap that rises high above the treeline of my life.  It’ stands there as a challenge to goad me in attempting to scale its heights. It was there, far off in the horizon that I saw it, almost mythical off in the distance, but as I closed my eyes it was gone, but I know I will see it again, but next time I will be stronger in its presence, next time I will where to begin.

If there is anything about this past year that has stood out to me, is the number of times I have gotten sick.  For a guy who regularly gets only ill once per year this past year has been a wake-up call that something is changed that my body doesn’t agree with.  It’s doesn’t take a genius to make the observation that going back to school has taken its toll on me.  This last time getting sick, I realized I am pushing myself too hard without letting my body recover.  The stress, lack of stable sleep, new exercise regiment, and irregular eating habits are great at breaking down my body but only time, rest, and taking care of myself are the only defense to this destruction.

This time was different, I felt so unable, so weak. I had come so far as to put out all these fires in my life but when it came to working progressively toward my father off goals, I was unable.  I am expending so much energy and had nothing left to give. It’s a strange feeling, having worked up to that point but feeling so powerless to keep going but I wanted to keep stretching my arms out for just a little bit more.  It wasn’t a feeling I liked, a helplessness to it, a bittersweetness of knowing I have reached this point because I am only human but knowing I can learn to do so much more because I am human.   As I laid down to recover in my short reprieve from work, I thought about how I can become better at this, which ways I can be more efficient at this. How can I strip everything down to rebuild myself stronger? In the moments before fading to sleep, I think of the things that allow me to keep going, the things that keep my mind sane as my body breaks down. The things which in sacrificing would feel like destroying parts of myself. I hold these things sacred because they are a sanctuary, a resting place for me to catch my breath. Where I can finally let myself recover from the torrent and the storm.

What I would like to say is I am thankful to all the people in my life that I can take a moment to talk to, for however long the conversation may be, it offers a reprieve from the insanity.  It gives me strength knowing that ultimately there is love in the world like this that may bloom in the moments of small connections like a wildflower after the rain. I may only see you once, but your beauty leaves a lasting mark. With all the strength I get from you, I  dare to dream of conquering the wall in my life, the one in which the fulfillment of my dreams lies on the other side of.  There I will be happy knowing I didn’t do it alone, I was fortunate to bring a little piece of everyone with me.

The Other Side Of Productivity

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Wednesday, I made it past Wednesday. When for me the worlds I am apart of collided and asked something of me. The culmination of all I had been working towards for the last couple of months.  Through all the writing, papers, reading, work, paper, tests, and discussions. The last couple of weeks have left me wasted, pushing to the point my eyes are becoming adverse to my computer screen. There were so many tabs and applications open, that it was hard to keep track of what I was doing at any given moment. At the end of it all, I got sick which I am taking as a sign to take a second and pace myself. That my body is not keeping up with what I want to do in my mind. This is the other side of that, what happens after.

For some reason I can find the space, my mind keeps wandering from place to place, as if it needs to do something but doesn’t know what to do, I have a bunch of tasks, but none of them seem ripe for the moment. It’s kind of like an uncomfortable silence, where you know you need to speak, and yet the silence itself is telling you so much.  I finally have time to write for myself, to think for myself, and to do for myself that I don’t know what to do first.  I’ve gotten so behind on it all, I used to be 4 weeks ahead writing and now I have to rush to write it in each week.  I am trying to eat correctly but hands don’t readily reach for the skillet to cook because it almost seems like too much effort. I lay in bed for a little while longer, hoping my body will recover so I can do it all again.

I hate being out like this, but if there is something to learn its from this moment. Slow down, enjoy yourself, keep pushing forward but also take time to take care of yourself. This is a bit different than my transcend post last time, but still, both are good. It’s about balancing these two things because it’s in the balance I find that sweet spot of happiness where I can be silly and productive too.

I know this post is a bit scattered and not as well thought out, but that’s just kinda where I’m at the moment. Also, I have yet to take new photos so I am running out so bear with me if there are so repeats. Lastly, the world seems to be messing with me and my body and I have to play along, or it will try to destroy me.

Frisson

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frisson:  a brief moment of emotional excitement : shudder, thrill

This word, for me it symbolizes for me a moment that I feel when my heart reaches down and touches the world.  Pure emotion, profound emotion seeps into me as the overwhelming feeling of being alive makes itself known.

The best way I can describe it is an experience you are so enveloped by music, movie or book and you lose yourself for a moment.  You forget where you are, and whatever you are doing becomes the only thing that exists for a moment.  A silence, as you travel to another world or place and it becomes real for that one moment.
The feeling transcribes itself onto your soul so that you become so enveloped by it you don’t even care that it wasn’t your feeling, to begin with.  You share the pain, the elation, the sorrow, the untold happiness, and tragedy. You get goosebumps all over, standing on end in anticipation of the moment where the emotion comes home and strikes at your heart.  It’s silly, but it’s as real as it can get. For a moment, you are given a crystal clear view of an unspoken truth that unites hearts, and overwhelms you with the depth of our mysterious existence.

I found about about this word on accident, perusing the archives of the internet, I followed it down the rabbit hole until I found a word that explained something that I had felt for a long time.  The word came to describe this feeling I sometimes chase, this sense of being alive.  It has since become one of my favorite words.

The reason for this is there are some days when I begin to lose myself, at times life leaves me feeling empty, emotionless and flat.  Where everything begins to dim and become faded, and my emotions feel muted. It’s these moments where I seek this frisson, this passion that makes me feel human again.  Though it gets me into the bad habit of watching great profound and sometimes tragic moments from my favorite media, for me, it’s a lesson that life will go on and that at the end of the day, I am only human and that’s more than beautiful enough for me.

 

I would love for those who are reading this to post some of the things that make you feel this way.
Some of the examples of mine are:
Charlie Chaplin’s Speech from the Great Dictator
Last battle speech from Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
and (without spoilers)
The end of the 10th Doctor from Dr. Who
And the end of some anime:
5 Centimeters Per Second
Ana Hana
Your Lie In April