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Hey everyone. Whenever I had issues, I used operationsports as my cover throughout the years. I even remember getting advice about my anxiety issues here. I'm not a native english speaker, nor I live in US,England or Australia. So I believe that you guys will excuse my incompetence. This though, would not prevent me from being a story-teller, which I always been. Here, I'm not trying to show off with my story, instead I'm looking for some friendly advice, maybe some back padding from fellow OS'ers. If it's too long to read, simply ignore it.
Here I am, saluting another long and cold winter. It is not that bad yet and has a long way to get worse. I can easily hear the footsteps of my anxiety. It is about time she knocked on the door to take me into the world of guilt, despair and panic.
Crime I committed is not even a real one. As an artist, I tend to think the other way. Although I very much stand against the so called ‘’code’’ of the society, I sometimes wonder, why the ‘’code’’ and myself cross our roads so often. I can only suggest this being a simple misunderstanding, or a classic case of one getting overwhelmed by his own shadow and his mere existance. For all I know; the way I was made has allowed me to go against stuff which society desperately values. This on the other hand, as I have recently figured out, is just a lie I have build over the years. It has not stopped me from beign judgemental, emotional and hilariously sentimental like any other regular person.
I try to be a true realist. What I have got in return is a broken sense of realism, which never prevails against the pre-determined, spoon fed emotions of the society. To support my case even more, I have been blessed with a very active and steady imagination. You know the same old cliche; I write stuff that are true, but I twist them a little bit to create abominations that people worship. Some people like that sort of stuff, which actually makes me a proud liar, or even better, a hypocrite; who always tends to believe, that he is around to change the world in order to fulfill his destiny with a fancy purpose. But at the end of the day, I happen to have not enough juice to resist against the actual drag of the ordinary human life, which of course, eventually will cause me to fail miserably.
Things related to social structure and love, as it seems, are my bread and butter, pretty much the cornerstones of my foundation. People overvalue these stuff a lot, and this simply makes me want to write about it. Always twisting it – as I have said -, so they will look funny and cocky at the same time. It never gets old, so I can compose a reflection to the others, which makes me a great story-teller and sometimes, a charismatic person. I could go on to say that I am a ‘’ladies man.’’ Although not great, I am good with women. But I am loyal, I did some ‘’hunting’’ in my early 20’s and that is about it. There are also times I dig deeper – believe it or not - to get some other stuff going, but for some reason, these never materialize into satisfying experiences. I am already convinced that there will not be another Twain or Salinger.
So; no matter how hard I try, I can not seem to pull away from the pack we happen to call society. Blame the day I was born, or better, curse the stars and the way they were aligned by the time I got out of my mothers womb. I might possess the grit, enough daddy issues and tiny bits of talent to make it, but I am heavily lacking in certain areas, such as determination, will and discipline. A very unfortunate combination if you ask me. Madhouses all around the world will welcome this poor little bastard, who denied the simple truth and never imagined that he could actually fall. Now only if going insane was that easy.
I find it funny, the fact that I always been a great escape artist. What I mean by that is; I have a knack for easily slipping away from the usual troubles. Not this one though. My talents will help me to skip a few steppes along the way and that is about it. It may delay the fall, not prevent it. I wonder what could have happened, if I had tried to take myself more lightly and readied myself for the actual truth. Sadly, at this point, no shrink or woman of the human breed can help me to achieve a certain the state of mind that I dare to call serenity. I crave so much for it, but at the same time, I proudly question its existence.
Weird enough, I met someone I could like, who actually possessed some form of serenity. There was a time, I liked – some call it love, not me – her in my own fashion. She did not only like me back, but instead she loved me back. I know it too well, because I saw the moment. Despite all it flaws, I saw it; naked and clear. Though, it only made me mad. I kept denying its presence. She shattered every foundation I had, it was almost frightening. Fueled by jealousy and anger, I hated every bit of her love. I found it boring. When my depraved innerself was not enough, I went out to claim that she was actually ‘’performing’’ and tried to convince her not to act that way. She did not listen, because she was not afraid. But she should have been; because somewhere inside, I knew that her concept of love and its reflection was persuaded by her naivity. It maybe was not fake, but for all I know, it was not fair. Not fair to me, nor fair to her.
I broke many promises along the way. After everything we have been through, I reached the status of total boredom. I must confess, that I was actually pursuing whatever she had to offer even before meeting her. Once I had found it, I denied it as hard as possible and put the burden on her shoulders. At first, she took it well. But as the time went on, she went weary and eventually crumbled under the weight. She did not complain though, not once. All she got in return for her efforts, was the respect of a selfish man, who rarely cared about anything or anyone. And of course his betrayal.
I call it betrayal because of two very different things:
Many years ago, I used to go out with another girl. She looked exactly the way I liked and for a while, she acted exactly the way I have been looking for. Funny, she almost took me for a king. I honored her with my presence and ignorantly felt that I was on the top of the world. Sadly enough, I was at the brink of dropping out of college back then and she was graduating. After a year or so, all the charisma of bad boy antics were gone and she slowly started to build her own presence. I kept spending my family money, which at the time seemed a lot to me, whereas she earned her own. My father was long gone, so eventually that easy ride came to an end. She developed different kinds of complexes; from me being incompetent, to her being too good for me. It felt like quicksand. I tried to run a business, came up with lots of ideas and all that other stuff. But I have failed. Meanwhile I got into a college, where I averaged 3.5 GPA – not bad at all -, but it did not help. She kept saying, ‘’I can not wait that long.’’ I swear that she smelled money, and that time, it became obvious that I was going to start running on fumes in only a few years. It was only a matter of time.
People with enough sanity – or who dare to claim so – wondered, why on earth I kept hanging on to her. Believe it or not, I tried. She found dozen ways to keep me attached. Hell, even once she tried to commit suicide. And I fell for all the theatrics. It took 4 good years before everything reached the inevitable end. She broke up with me and I agreed. Even back then, I knew that she found someone else. This was the only way she could do it. And yes, time proved me right. She is getting married very soon.
I felt anger, I am not gonna lie. I quickly started to develop an obsession with money, but I snapped out of it. See, it was natural for a boy, who is in his mid 20’s to become overly critical about his bad experiences. She was obsessed with money and this infected me as well. It took a little time before I cleansed myself from every little bit of stain. The smell though, it is still on me. The ‘’so called’’ significance of money will be one of the many delusions I will carry throughout my whole life. But still, after everything was said and done, I felt freed and liberated.
Then I met her, the one with serenity. This was a type of serenity that only would work for her. Took some time for me to figure that out. Somehow, she felt good at the beginning. It was all I asked for, the exact opposite of my old lover. As the time started running his vicious cycle, it dropped from good to allright. A few months later, it became mediocre. I felt shackled, but not in an emotional way. I know how it feels, since I experienced it. This was new, I felt my thoughts were being the victim, not the fake emotions. See, I always got this ‘’thinking’’ cycle, where I daydream a lot. I could not write for ****, because I felt guilty all the time. You know, she was beautiful, but not only the way she looks. She was a beatiful human being, too perfect in every aspect; naive, honest, and much less ambitious. This though, did not help and instead, it turned everything into an ongoing curse. It made me more aggressive, wanting more and more from life. Then it got really, really bad.
I fell for one of her friends. And I sense it damn well, that she is in for it too. Not that she would do. Got too much dignity. She is not even pretty, ugliest I ever fell for. **** beauty and the so called standarts forced down on my throat, it was about time that everything changed. Me and her, we are pretty much the same. After a very long time, it was the first moment where I could honestly say that I can really let go once in a while when I am with her. I can feel it in my bones, that she would be the igniter and will led me to my own greatness. Selfish, man. Too selfish. But not with her. For the first time in my life, with all my honesty, I really wish well for someone. I mean, really wish well. We humans, always lie about it. We just say the words, but not feel it inside. This though, is different.
What I really fear is something way beyond the guilt, something much stronger. If I were to believe in destiny, I would go on to say that this was a plan already in the making for many years. Just look at it; first, I have been forced to become a man in a very radical way. Then I use someone – unconsciously- as a doorway to get rid off my troubles. In the end, I turn into a boy again, really falling for it, maybe for the last time. This is exactly where my crime and betrayal lies; using people and dumping them later. The least I could do.
I will not dig into the details with her. It is just too strong, almost painful. Gotta pay the price, for all the fun I had while denying the very existance of myself. ‘’No feelings,’’ as I have always said, ‘’there is only the thought.’’ The curtain is closing and one thing I got left is my dignity. I still doubt its reality, but for now, it feels vivid enough, since everything else is already exposed, lost cover. **** pride, **** money. **** the shame I felt over the years. **** achievements, success, morals and whatever they made us to believe religiously.
I broke up with her. And no, I will not be dating ''other'' her either. Nor I will see her again. I am going off on a trip. Gotta graduate first though, can not risk it. I am way too old to be a student anyway. I am going to be alone for a while. Gonna drink a bit of booze, but not too much. It is one of the many weaknesses I have in this life. I might start working on a new novel, one that no one would get. But afterall, writing is the only thing that keeps me sane.
Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone.
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12-31-2012, 09:01 PM
