Monday, October 31, 2016

Flee

Just a hair over five months... I'd have to consult my physical journals, but that may well be the longest stretch of time I have ever gone without writing.

There is something dreadfully wrong with my world, though, and so I find it comforting to return to old habits.

...including, apparently, the thrice-damned purple prose of which I am so fond. Yet even in cursing it, I continue to invoke it, which may go a long way as to illustrating the current state of my mind.

...

Once upon a time, a boy talked to a girl.

Wait.

Once upon a time, a boy failed his driving test.

Wait.

Once upon a time, a boy was expelled.

Wait.

Once upon a time, a boy was threatened, and returned that threat in kind.

...there it is.

Sharp twists in the road, bends in the river of time, decisions made in the heat of the moment that had such... lasting impacts as could not be known. As Ray said: I always want a second chance. Hindsight is always 20/20, and even now - even now! - I find myself continually looking back, trying to find a way to set right what once went wrong.

Do you still read this, I wonder? In the... saga that is this dance we do, ten months is not a long time. Strong words were exchanged, yes; but time heals all wounds (or so they say; I wonder if either of us really believes that, these days).

Regardless of what I may have said, or left unsaid, I will say this now: you are dangerous to me, in ways that no one else is. Oh certainly, there are those who could disrupt my mental state, who could derail me and cause me temporal harm, but there are none I left so far into my heart - such as it is - as you. I care about you in ways that I could not care for anyone else.

I realize this is an incredibly droll thing to say, but honestly the only thing stopping me from listing you as my beneficiary on my life insurance was that I didn't know some particular information. And that was months before we started talking the last time.

No matter how much you have hurt me, still would I tear asunder the sky for you, if you asked and it were in my power; whatever your desire, should I have the means, I would make it so.

...

You know how to get in touch with me, if you so wish it. I'm doubtful you will do so, but there it is.

...

In the meantime, I hope that getting this shit off my chest will at least quell this damnable flame in my chest, and return my heart to its significantly more comfortable stony self. I cannot abide these... bouts of emotional fancy, though whether they strengthen or weaken with each passing year is... hard to tell, and at this time I'm too vulnerable to myself to read through these past entries to make that determination.

A still more glorious dawn awaits.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Villain

So... I guess Musk is against AI.

Given that Musk is pretty much the real world's equivalent to Tony Stark, I guess that makes me the villain of this story.

Which kind of makes me want to go work at SpaceX, and get that whole "the hero and villain worked together!" backstory thing going. Because I'm a sucker for narrative claptrap like that.

It's alright, though. I like the role of the heavy. I've played it many times before, and... actually I'm not really sure I'll play it again, since the whole "I have no social life" thing happened now that I live in Alabama, and I've done a lot of... I don't know if "growing" is the right term, but there sure has been a lot going on in my brain-pan as of late.

Anyway, just wanted to make a note of the fact that Musk doesn't like AI. It'll maybe be marginally important later.

Oh yeah... and I guess it was my birthday again lately, or whatever. Just another day, again; really would prefer people stop making such a big fuss about it.

A still more glorious dawn awaits.

Monday, May 09, 2016

Topkek

Oh, I will.

I gave you your chance, only to find out that you were apparently seeing a guy that entire time. You could've been honest about your situation, but instead you led me on, led me to believe that there was still something there. I guess the fact that he knows the songs from your favorite band is more important than, oh I don't know, having a decent job that doesn't involve wearing a fuckin' name tag.

It's not my fault you're boring. It's not my fault you decided to go have a kid with some fucking ghetto loser. I was willing to help you; willing to take on the responsibility of looking out for you both; willing to forgive and forget all that had happened, start fresh, move forward.

It's not my fault you decided to throw that option away.

What the fuck are you even doing, reading my blog, anyway? Did you honestly think that there would be anything here for you?

We're fuckin' done.

I would rather spend the rest of my days alone than deal with your madness again.

Monday, February 29, 2016

Punctuate

It's been awhile. I think the... events of January were enough to put the idea of putting thought to paper out of my mind, for awhile. I've had to percolate on it, reflect upon it, to reach the point where I could assess the situation with an even hand and feel comfortable with my conclusions.

So here we go.

...

I am fine with this.

That is simultaneously truth and lie, for various reasons.

It is truth because... how do I even put this? She is incredibly boring. I recall that we had an afternoon together, and she spent it sleeping. We discussed our lives and what had happened on the car ride to Indiana (which, admittedly, was rather long), and then... nothing. Perhaps an hour of discussing what the future might hold, and some other various short discussions about pertinent things (eating, meeting with her friend, etc), but nothing past that.

Once upon a time, this girl had - or so I believed - ambitions. Goals. Dreams. Now she seems a mere shell of what she once was, if what I thought I had seen back then were even real. I suppose I am reminded of the fact that what I saw in her was not in her, but the potential for great things. Without someone to guide her, she had fallen into... the boring rut that failures often find themselves in. I know that place well, well enough to identify when someone else is in it, having been there once myself.

Bringing her out of that rut would've taken... an enormous amount of work and effort, with - very possibly - absolutely nothing to show for it. No longer did I feel that there was something there beneath the surface; whatever spark of curiosity had once burned in her mind had dwindled, if it had ever lived at all.

When she decided to inform me that she was cutting me out of her life, I will admit that I also felt a sense of relief. The relief of not having to saddle myself with her and her myriad issues, both real and imagined. Relief of not committing myself to a life with someone who is so very clearly not my equal, in any sense. I was also disappointed, but not surprised: I figured that her decision would be the one that would happen. So it goes, with her.

And the lie of being fine with this is simple: I am lonely. Yes, sex is great and all, but really at this point what I want in my life is a partner, someone who is at least my equal or who can dazzle me with her mind. I want someone I can actually engage in conversation with, without feeling like I have to... dumb everything down. With Danielle, I felt like she was always at least a step behind, requiring constant encouragement and willing to throw in the towel at the slightest difficulty. I can't be with someone like that.

In other news, I am immensely entertained that she keeps trying to spin this as a positive for herself. Because I'm sure she'll find a fulfilling life with some idiot she works with at a gas station; I'm sure that will go swimmingly for her and her daughter. No doubt eventually her parents will find reason to throw her out again, and some hapless fool will support her through that, only to be cast aside the moment her ridiculous emotions tell her that that's the thing to do. She has left a trail of emotional devastation in her wake that I cannot even begin to fathom.

No more will we speak of this girl and what she has wrought; she is but a shadow of the past, like so many other names and faces, and I see no need to revisit hers more than any other. I have little doubt that she will join my demons, and I will hear her voice again when my mind contemplates the dark, but... I will weather that storm when it comes.

So anyway. Here I am again, alone once more on the road of my life, and most likely it will remain that way until the end of my days.

A still more glorious dawn awaits.

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Hilarious

You're a cheeky cunt.

Already sleeping with another guy? Really? Really?

Jesus Christ, I should never have even thought to come out there. And then you didn't even have the courage to actually tell me why you suddenly decided that we "didn't have a very good trip"?

Fucking hell. 

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Fork

Decisions.

I have decided that I want Danielle in my life again, and that I will make this one last, final attempt to make that happen.

This is not a decision I come to lightly. Two years ago, I sat in this very spot - albeit on a different computer - and planned out my route to Buffalo. What I thought had been a successful rekindling of our relationship was apparently anything but, a fact whose cause has only become known to me recently, with Danielle telling me her perspective on how things unfolded.

That we could have such a candid conversation is proof that she has come a long way. I am ... a bit sad, I suppose, that I was not the one to accompany her on that part of her journey, but it is what it is. There is little sense in fretting over the past; once again, everything that has happened has led to where we both are today. If things had played out differently... who can say what the now would look like?

With that said. I am going to attempt to make this work. This will be the last time I try to do this; it must be the last time. I can't keep investing emotional energy into something that will not pan out. I am comfortable walking this road alone, if need be; but I would rather walk it with her at my side, and join in her path through life. If she is not interested, or if it doesn't pan out... then to our own separate ways we go.

But. That is neither here nor now; the decision point - the fulcrum, if you will - of whether or not I abandon the attempt at bringing her into my life once more is far into the future. A more pressing fulcrum looms.

I invited her to come down to Alabama for a couple days. We're having a work holiday party thing, and I thought - with her interest in space and such - that she would be interested. While she ultimately had to reject the offer, I think it was due to the timing (I admittedly put it off until almost the last minute, thinking it over in my head for a long while; I am trying not to rush into this, given our history), and not because she was not interested.

This is a good sign.

As part of her rejection, she mentioned that she will be heading to Indiana in January to see a friend, and asked me if I wanted to meet her there. A counter-offer, which I found interesting.

I have not yet committed to a decision regarding a meet in January, but I will admit that I am leaning towards a "yes." However, my suggestion is probably not something she is expecting; specifically, I am thinking of suggesting that I fly out to Buffalo, and that we make the drive to Indiana together. This would give us a significant amount of time to talk in person, without risk of other activities or people intervening, which is something I think we need to do if we're going to move forward with this.

I have no idea if she wants to be in a relationship with me. I get the feeling that, at present, she is largely unhappy with her situation, and I think we've reached an understanding regarding the ... awkwardness of our last encounter. Whether or not that translates into an interest in being with me is, admittedly, another thing entirely, which is why I think an extended period of time in which we can just talk to each other may be a good thing. It would help us establish where we stand with each other, and perhaps bond again as we once did, what seems a lifetime ago.

Don't get me wrong; though I say that this will be the last time, I am willing to put a significant amount of effort into making this work. But there will come a definite point in which a call must be made, and if the decision is to not move forward, then that has to be the end of it, for my sanity.

So, there you have it: two fulcrums. One in January, and another one with a floating temporal point, but most likely soon after January, provided that plan pans out.

I think I've said enough for the evening.

A still more glorious dawn awaits.

Thursday, November 05, 2015

Fulcrums

My relocation to Alabama - and the beginning of my career - has kindled a persistent, if weak, sense of existential dread.

Once upon a time, my life was defined by a series of moments - and not just moments in the sense of the passage of time, but instead specific moments in time, momentous seconds in which the course of my life became altered. Graduating college was one such moment; getting this job, another; meeting Danielle, another. These fulcrums, if you will, appear many times in my history, and I'm sure that even a casual perusal of this blog would result in a number of them appearing - if not directly, then through indirect reference.

This was my life, before a few weeks ago: not a series of temporal moments, but a series of eventful moments. The spaces between were simply that - temporal space, taken up with the expectation of the next known fulcrum. Sometimes a new one would appear - Danielle was one, her leaving me another - without warning, a spontaneous change in the story of my life, and the path forward, towards the next known moment, would change.

But always that moment awaited in the distance. Always counting down the days towards an event, or counting the days since. I have seemingly always defined myself not by the present, but by the future - or even, for a long time, the past.

This relocation and all that has come with it has not necessarily torn that method of thinking asunder, but the ship is certainly taking on water quickly. There is no longer a moment to look forward to; instead, there is only work. And while I have a solid job that pays... stupidly well, it doesn't change the fact that when I go into the office, somewhere in the back of my mind is this thought:

This is my life now.

I started talking to Danielle again. Ali thinks this is a mistake; but Ali knows me well, now, and knows the ... emotional danger such an activity poses. In the course of our conversations, I have found that the reason she cut me off last time - so... winter of '13 - was because of miscommunication and general failure to understand her mindset. While telling me that then would have been immensely helpful, I can't change the past. All I can do now is attempting to change the course of things to come.

Which is what initiated this post: the realization that my life is no longer headed towards a specific moment, but instead consists of moments. There are, at least for the time being, no fulcrums in my future, and it may be some time before the next one appears, if it even does so (though I have a feeling that, being who I am, one certainly will). There is nothing holding me back, now; I have the education, and given a bit of time, the experience necessary to find employment pretty much anywhere. I am no longer reliant upon the whims of fate or my ability to find an angle to feed and house myself.

There is no more storm. Only calm, open seas. Through iron will, I can go where and do as I damn well please.

That said...

A still more glorious dawn awaits.