16 Days

16 Days left in this dreadful year.  I'll be happy when it's gone and I'll take everything from this year and put it behind me.  I'm gonna pretend like this year never happened.  Next year, I'll start over fresh and hopefully things will go different.

Last post I mentioned that my drinking wasn't because of any one reason and that I have an easily addictive personality.  More and more, it's becoming true.  Or, rather, it's getting worse.  I'm drinking every day now.  Alone, obviously.  Money I could be spending elsewhere is going towards alcohol.  If I'm out, then it's a priority to get more.  I have a problem, and I need to deal with it.  I need to take a stance and call it quits.  Drop the bottles and be done, just like with relationships and friendships.

More and more lately, I've been feeling the anger building.  I know part of it has to do with the alcohol.  In combination with the antidepressants, it has the tendency to cause that reaction.  However, there are other factors at work and I'm losing my cool more often.  I lost my temper at work the other night and nearly made an employee quit.  I shut one guy up just by looking at him because I was that pissed.  I could feel my face burning and my mouth was far too slow to keep up with the torrent of hate that was flowing from my brain.

I'm not proud of myself, and I don't like what I've become over these last months.  But as I said, 16 more days and I'm done with this year and everything that came with it.

The Story Ain't Over...

Not by a long shot.

I know I haven't posted in a while.  At least, not by recent standards.  I realized that I posted more entries in the month of November alone than I did all of last year.  I guess I've had a lot built up over time.  Now I'm running out of things to say.  With this year drawing to a close, I figure it's time to start thinking about what needs to change in the coming year.

First off, I want to state that my drinking recently is not BECAUSE of any one person.  It's not because someone BROKE me.  It is the fault of no one but myself.  I have an addictive personality, and when I find something I like, I tend to go all out.  Since I rediscovered that I could drink, that part of me has come back in full force.  I used to drink all the time, by myself, with friends, social or not, it didn't matter.  By definition, that's an alcoholic.  So why do I do it?  Because it makes me feel like not me.  And not me is who I wanted to be when I began drinking.  Yes, I hit a rough patch for a while and it started me on this train, but I could have chosen to get off at any point, but I keep going.  Now, I need to find a reason to stop.  That's where the problem lies.  It's not WHY do I drink, but WHY SHOULDN'T I drink?

Also, we're drawing up on Christmas, which has become a rather lonely time in my family.  It's just my immediate household now.  Mom, Dad, me and my son.  Sisters are far away.  No other family to care about nearby.  No friends.  I always get nostalgic around this time of year.  The music, the smell of burning wood in the cold winter air, the clear night sky... It all reminds me of my youth and the Christmas holidays that I spent at different family events.  It's kinda sad to know that my son will likely never have that.  We have each other, and that's probably how it'll stay for a few more years, until he finds a girlfriend.

I know this is a short post, but the hour draws late, and the alcohol runs low.  Also, I'm old and lazy.  So, I end this here.

I forgot to put a title, so here it is.

I just got home from a hellish day at work.  Nothing too stressful, but annoying and long.  Days like that give me too much time to think, and as things are at Dramano's, people can't shut up about stuff that isn't their business.  So they always have to pry into everyone else's private lives.  Well, the joke is on them.  My life ain't so private. I'll talk about whatever in a heartbeat and don't give a damn about hiding anything.  That, and I have nothing going on.

So, I made this Facebook post the other day about how people at work questioned how it is that I've gone 7 years without companionship.  While my friend Chad did bring up the point that I have my son, a constant companion and my best little buddy, I should clarify that the person was likely referring to adult companionship.

Now, I may be weird in saying this, and anyone that knows me knows how my mind works, but I have no interest in sex. It may make me seem strange to some people, but if it happens, it happens.  I'm more interested in the hugs, the cuddles, kisses whenever we see each other, watching movies together, and things like that.  What it seems is that I want a really close friend of the female persuasion, but the DFO has determined that I do not need one of those. I'll admit, I enjoyed having someone to talk to for the few weeks that I did, but I spent 7 years being single and celibate.  I can do it again.

I will admit, I'm falling back into bad habits to get this done.  Up until about a month or so ago, I hadn't had alcohol in 4 years.  Now if I'm not at work, I'm almost constantly drinking.  I know I've heard people say that they do drugs or drink because they don't want to feel like themselves, and I can totally understand that.  I mean, there's not much to me to begin with.  I play video games, I watch anime, I watch TV shows, I watch movies, I play with my son, I work for a pizza place.  That's about it.  I have nothing else going on.  Photography was great, but I think I ruined that, despite all the good things that came from it.

I dunno.  Sometimes I feel like I have more to say that I really do.  Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to one specific person, and sometimes I feel like the whole world is listening.  And then there's the times where I feel like I'm just typing this out for the future me to read later on and go, "What the fuck was wrong with you?"

The Cure - "Love Song"

Too Much

This is an excerpt from one of my poetic journals called Spiral Staircase.  Not really a poem, just something I jotted down while I thought I was being artistic.  I now type it out as I've had a shitload to drink and I think I'm on the border of drunk and being sick.

"Alone, standing in the void,"
"The only light shining from high above,"
"He takes his first step."
"The spiral staircase twirls."
"The path is clear and seems unending."
"The step holds firm."
"With a sigh of relief, the next step."
"Voices cry out, his head spins,"
"And again, the step holds."
"With confidence, he strides,"
"Treading the spiral of glass."
CRACK!
"A step fractures, his face clouds."
"Worried, he steps forward."
CRACK!
"With each step, another crack."
CRASH!
"His foot falls through the glass."
Pain surges as the glass tears through his skin."
"Slowly, he pulls his foot out,"
"and carefully steps forward."
CRASH!
"The other foot crashes through the glass."
"He cries out for help"
"as he pulls his wounded foot out."
"Careful to be gentle with each bloody step,"
"he waits to see what the glass will do."
"No sound."
"He continues on, blood trailing on the fractured glass."
"Suddenly, his legs give out and he falls,"
"breaking through the glass."
"His body is sliced and cut."
"One hand, barely, grasps the sharp edges."
"Cutting. tearing, hurting, "
"He wants to scream,"
"he wants to let go, but, "
"he pulls himself up, struggling for the top.
"Battered, broken, bleeding and bruised,"
"the young heart reaches the top of the spiral."
"The light, so warm..."
"He steps forward, into the light, the staircase shatters around him."
"His eyes awaken from the dream.."
"He rolls over to look at her, his light at the top of the stairs..."
It was worth it.


I don't really know where this was going when I wrote it, or why I'm posting it now.  I just know that I'm feeling strange and I needed to do something.

Intermission

The last post was a 'poem' that I had written years ago.  It was written long before my marriage, long before my current situation, and will probably hold relevance long after this has passed.  I was going through my old book of poetry that I put together over the course of 6 years.  I just picked that one out to start with.

Right now, I've had a lot to drink.  More than I've had in 5 years.  Typing is hard to do, but isn't everything?  So, I'm typing out my thoughts in an attempt to remember what's going through my head right now, so when I wake up tomorrow or some time in the future, I'll look at this and say, "What the fuck was I thinking?"

But yeah.  Things have gotten physically better in the past few months.  My stomach isn't rebelling against me as much as it used to.  My medication is working fine.  I've got more energy than I used to have.  However, on the mental side, I'm drained.  I'm emotionally fucked, mentally drained, and overall a clusterfuck of feels.  I'm tired all the time, unless I'm actively engaged in some sort of project like work or hobby.  If I'm not at work or out on the town, I'm lying in bed, asleep or watching Netflix.

I made the mistake of feeling again, which I've stated over many recent blogs.  But I feel it's time to put that behind me.  I've told her so.  It's best for both of us, and I can tell she's already put it behind her.  That's good.  Granted, I can't help but feel a tinge of sadness, but it's for the best.  I won't put myself in that situation again.  Photography is done, so I won't be getting involved with models again.  I'm going back to the old ways of me, my son and my job.

Anuptaphobia

An excerpt from my collection of poetry and musings:

Why now?

After all this time, why now?

I've been alone for so long,

outcast for so long.

Why does loneliness bother me now?

I've been in love before,

and she loved me too.

We called each other our soulmates,

soulmates destined to be together.

Now, years later, we barely talk anymore.

We were in love.

I know the things I'm missing.

The touch, the caress, the kiss.

It hurts to think about what I had,

the chance I may never have it again.

Better to have loved and lost

than to have never loved at all?

To love is grand, to be in love is divine?

So to have love and lose it

is better than never knowing what you're missing?

No one wants to be alone.

No one wants to be left behind.

Everyone wants happiness in their lives.

But what can't always have what we want,

can we?

Apotheosis

I haven't been writing much lately.  There have been a few reasons why, but they mainly center around repetition.  There are only so many ways that one can write about how lonely he is or how unfair the world is or how much in love with someone he is or all of that.  So, I've held back on those.  I also don't have any anger issues to let fly, so I can't spew venomous bile across the landscape.  So what else is there?  Humorous quips to make my audience chuckle?  Well, that might work if I had an audience.  Well, an audience of more than two or three.  One at the least.

In any case, I felt I had to write this one.  I've been watching this show, and it's a love drama type deal.  I know, I know.  Not the best viewing material for someone in my state of mind.  Still, I enjoy watching these things because I can't experience them in reality, and I try to imagine how I would react if I were in those situations.  Would I do better or worse?  I'll never know, and never knowing is part of what this show is about.

The main male protagonist is a first year in college, and an amnesiac.  He had an accident and remembers nothing before he was 18 years old.  He left home to go to college in another city to get away from friends and family because he felt he was surrounded by strangers and in a 'prison' of sorts.  So to start life new, he enters college far from home and starts to make new friends and start a new life as a new man.  8 episodes in and I feel for the guy.  I know drama well.  We used to drink nightly, and might still in the future.  But anyway, I'm an emotional guy.  I get teary eyed sometimes, and what this guy is dealing with made me think that if I were in his situation, I couldn't take it.

But that's the point of this entry.  I feel like I'm that guy.  Not an amnesiac, but little by little, things are disappearing from my life.  I know that's how life goes.  People die, or move on, or drift apart.  I get that.  But over the last year, it seems like so much has just vanished.  Even new people and experiences... just gone.  So it makes me wonder how long it will be before I have to start over.

At one point in the show, he tells this girl that he loves her.  He knows it's kind of a lost cause, because she's been fixated on the same guy since they were kids, even if that guy doesn't feel the same way about her.  Still, main guy tells her he loves her, and she shoots him down, and still wants to remain the best of friends with him.  Eventually, he tells her he can't be friends with her anymore because it hurts too much to see her acting friendly when she's just thinking of that other guy.

Again, I've felt like this guy.  Growing up, I had a couple of guy friends, but way more female friends.  Guys didn't really like me because I talked to girls in a respectable way, and the girls would talk back.  I was never a romantic option due to my less than attractive nature, but it made other guys mad that the girls would talk to me about certain things and not them.  Once or twice, when a girl couldn't have the guy she wanted, she would come to me and try to mess around.  I'd have to turn her away, because as I've said, I'm an all or nothing guy.  I'm no one's fall-back crush.  No one's second choice.  I've felt that way all my life.  Never number one, but just good enough to be considered.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that things may have to change soon.  Perhaps when I find the right social environment and start meeting new people, I can come to terms with what I am and my role in the grand scheme of things.  Mostly, it will probably involve me just getting drunk and going home without accomplishing anything.  But I'm done sitting around and waiting.  I've met too many nice girls over the years and let my chances slip by while worse guys ended up destroying those girls' lives.  Of course, I'm no better.  I have nothing to offer a girl as far as the materialistic side of things goes.  But if intentions and effort were worth something, I'd be worth something.

Here I go again

As an addition to the earlier post, things have changed a little.  Some of the situations are worse than I expected.  To be honest, though they aren't my fault, I'm at one of those points where I feel like it would be better if I weren't here.  If I just disappeared for a while, all of this would pass.  I dunno.  I feel like just staying away from everyone.  Work and home.  That'll be me for a while, unless the DFO (Divine Fluffy One) decides to drastically change things.

On the completely opposite end of the spectrum, my Facebook is open once again.  However, everything prior to this is gone.  I will not send friend requests.  I will not ask to be where I'm not wanted.  If someone wants to be friends with me, they will find me.

Post Black Friday Post

Black Friday wasn't what I expected.  It wasn't in the insanity I had assumed it would be.  That insanity came later.  Near the end of the day, I started to not feel very well.  I grabbed the bottle of Dr Pepper/Malibu and poured it down the sink and trashed the remains.  I went home and dealt with the horrible feeling, which was only bad heartburn.  Still, hard to breath or get comfortable, and it brought back feelings of when this was an everyday thing because I didn't know what was wrong with me.

So, I get home and crawl into bed.  I forego any leftover T-day dinner.  I stayed in that bed until about an hour ago.  The most movement was getting comfortable and texting a few people.  One to sell off some of my camera equipment and announce my retirement from photography.  One to wish well because her boyfriend nearly tore his eye out.  And the other, well...  She knows.

I've started to wonder exactly what it is that I am.  I'm confused.  I don't know what people expect from me.  Each person has different expectations, I understand, and there are only certain people's expectations that I care about.  It is those that concern me the most.  What am I?  Am I a friend?  Am I something more?  Am I just someone you call when you need something?  Am I amusement when you get bored?  I don't know.  I hate not knowing.  My cat-like nature and curiosity will not rest until the mystery is solved or I get bored.

I was told to stop trying to figure it out, which leads me to believe that I'm not meant to know where I stand.  So, if that be the case, it reminds me of a time long ago when someone referred to me as their 'fallback crush'.  Someone that was there for romance or entertainment when the person they really wanted wasn't available.  That pissed me off, because I'm not a second choice.  I'm an all or nothing guy.  When I choose something, I'm either all in or I don't care at all.  I'm like that with my job, my hobbies, and people.  Right now, my job is still all in, because I need money.  My hobby is all out due to discouragement and lack of motivation.  Different people have different levels, but a couple in particular have me in a state of flux.  I can't stand being like this.

Short Note

Pre-bed post-alcohol contemplation.

Should I restart Facebook from scratch?  Only add people I care about?  Try to keep it limited to drama free content and stuff?  I dunno.  Myabe I've just had too much today.  I'll consider it again tomorrow after Black Friday work.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I know that Thanksgiving, by name alone, should be a time of giving thanks for what we have.  I am quite thankful for the things that I have.  I could be happier still if I had other things, but I shan't be greedy.  There is one thing in particular I am extremely thankful for, but that's not why I'm here.  I'm here to discuss those things in our lives that we are not thankful for.  The things that we do our best to avoid and never talk about, and why not?  Because some people don't believe in it, or it makes you seem weak and strange?  Well, that's a load of bollocks.

The one thing I'm here to talk about is depression.  While I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, the psychiatrist also said that I showed symptoms of depression.  I thought to myself, "Yeah, I came here for anxiety.  Depression?  I feel fine.  I'm not all mopey and stuff, but whatever."

Now I realize that I don't have it as bad as some people, and depression manifests itself in different ways in different people in different situations.  It's like asking someone how a medication will affect them.  Different body chemistry can cause different reactions to different things.  Like how some people have a lower tolerance to alcohol or other substances, depression and their respective medications affect everyone differently.

“Depression does not always mean
Beautiful girls shattering at the wrists
A glorified, heroic battle for your sanity
Or mothers that never got the chance to say good-bye
Sometimes depression means
Not getting out of bed for three days
Because your feet refuse to believe
That they will not shatter upon impact with the floor

Sometimes depression means
That summoning the willpower
To go downstairs and do the laundry
Is the most impressive thing you accomplish that week

Sometimes depression means
Lying on the floor staring at the ceiling for hours
Because you cannot convince your body
That it is capable of movement

Sometimes depression means
Not being able to write for weeks
Because the only words you have to offer the world
Are trapped and drowning and I swear to God I’m trying

Sometimes depression means
That every single bone in your body aches
But you have to keep going through the motions
Because you are not allowed to call in to work depressed

Sometimes depression means
Ignoring every phone call for an entire month
Because yes, they have the right number
But you’re not the person they’re looking for, not anymore”

I found that on Tumblr the other day.  It's the last part that got me.  "you're not the person they're looking for, not anymore."  I feel like that so much.  Its why I don't keep in touch with people.  It's why I don't have friends.  It's why when people find me on Facebook or see me on the streets and want to 'reconnect', I just have to ignore it and walk away.  I'm not that person anymore.  I doubt I ever will be again.  However, the medications that my doctor gave me, and we went through a list of trial and error, have helped.  I've become more sociable (and that's gotten me in trouble), less inhibited (also trouble) and in general, I've become a more pleasant person.  I've started to find optimism less vomit-inducing and more pleasant.  I've stopped seeing this year as the year to try to kill me and more as the year that tested if I truly wanted what I thought.

Then the question became, what was it that I thought I wanted?  To continue living the existence I had, or something more?  Did I want to be the single father that I had been for the past 7 years with minimal social interaction and only my son and computer for company?  Or did I want to become something else and grow.  Did I dare hope to, as people annoyingly kept telling me, find someone?  I don't know.  I didn't then, and I still don't.  I only know what I feel, and that alone has me worried.

"Finding someone worth waking up with is much more important than finding someone to go to sleep with."

Another quote I ran across.  Lots of wisdom on Tumblr.  That, and porn.  Don't judge me.  I used to get a lot of photographic ideas from there before I gave up on photography.  But every once in a while you'll see one of those sappy little messages that just make you melt a little on the inside.

"I didn't want to fall in love, but then you smiled, and I couldn't resist." and "When two people are happy together, you leave them the fuck alone."

Some aren't as eloquent as others, but you get the idea.  I've become more hopeful lately, and at the same time, that last one gets me.  If two people are happy together, and your idea of happiness gets in the way of that, can you really be happy?  That's where this entire post is going.  My idea of depression isn't slashing my wrists or tying a rope around my neck or sitting in a dark room and listening to The Cure all night.  My depression is the far more devious kind.  It's the kind that I can have with a smile on my face while telling jokes, and then I go home and drink and wish things were different.  If you didn't know me, you wouldn't know how I felt.  Hell, only two or three people in the whole world know how I really feel.

On that note, I leave you with this last quote before I resume drinking and crawling back into bed.

“When I say, ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a heck of a person.”

Into the belly of the beast

Before we begin, this is a warning.  This is that moment where you take the blue pill and remain as you are, or you take the red pill and drop into Wonderland and see all the fucked up shit that caterpillar was smoking.  In other words, you're gonna learn far more about me than you ever wanted to know, because the topic of this blog was specifically requested and shall be presented as such.  Evil.

So, let's define evil.  Generally defined as profoundly immoral or malevolent, it can also encompass reprehensible behavior or even sinful or wicked actions.  So what does this mean?  Well, to put it plainly, evil, by these definitions, means making all the wrong choices according to some moral code that states we should do the exact opposite in order to be 'good' people.  'Good' people help others.  'Good' people donate to charities.  'Good' people go to church and don't watch porn or play violent video games or masturbate, blah blah blah.  So, evil is relative.  If we agree with that, then 'evil' people punch babies, kick kittens, pull the wings off of flies, rob banks, kill people and do drugs, etc, etc...

Now that we have that out of the way, let's get back to the center of this.  Me.  There was a time when I was the center of my own universe.  Call it narcissistic if you want, but that's not the case.  I was not in love with myself nor vain in any way.  I simply was all there was to me.  I had no one but myself.  Then I met my wife, and she became the center of my universe and I orbited happily around she who had become the star in my sky.  Then my son was born, and he became the sun at the center of the galaxy and my wife and I orbited around him.  Then she left, and my orbit around my son became smaller, closer.  He is the center of my life.  Where am I going with this?  How is this related to evil?  It's not.  This is just backstory and exposition.  The evil comes next.

See, my wife and I had issues in our relationship.  I wasn't the best husband.  She wasn't the best wife.  We had trust issues, security issues, self-esteem issues.  One time, I found out she had 'cheated' on me.  It crushed me.  I felt like I was the most insignificant bit of trash on the planet.  But something began to grow inside of me.  It festered and infected me and before I knew it, part of me enjoyed that idea.  Part of me began to find it arousing to think of her with other men.  And there became the breaking point in our marriage.  Because I told her she could sleep with whomever she wanted, it made her feel like I didn't care.  I was out for my own enjoyment, not even seeing how I was making her feel.  In that, I was evil.  Unintentional, maybe, but still evil.

After our split, there was a lot of animosity between us.  We didn't get along for a while.  Until she needed something, then she would contact me.  Usually it was money, and being the sucker I am, I gave it to her.  I was too nice for a period of time.  I got taken advantage of, which took me to a further level of evil.  The "What are you going to do for me?" level.  If you want a favor from me, what am I getting in return?  It was no longer enough for me to do things out of kindness.  I wanted mine, dammit.

Years later, after being taken advantage of by many other people, whether it be work or personal, my attitude became that of "Fuck you all.  I'm out for myself".  And so that's how I've lived these past 7 years.  I take care of my son and don't give a fuck about anyone else.  I didn't want to get close to anyone, because I felt that they were just gonna use me and toss me aside, so I just used them first.  Perhaps not evil, but definitely an asshole move.

So we enter my more recent years.  I use people to get what I want.  Or rather, I used to.  Maybe I still do.  I met a co-worker one day at work and we sparked up a conversation about how I was trying to be a photographer.  He volunteered his fiance (whom I had never seen and didn't expect much out of) as a model.  Usually, when someone does this, it's because they feel like they need to prove something.  Like, maybe they want to show off their girlfriend or see if someone else can give them approval.  I agreed to see what happened, and happen it did.  One day, he came to work with her, and from the moment I saw her, I was smitten.  I couldn't wait to get my camera on her.  It wasn't until many, many months later that it actually happened, but when it did... Fucking magic.  I was in love.  In love with taking pictures of her, that is.  The rest came later.  Where is the evil, you ask?  I used that guy to get to the girl, and part of me wanted to steal her away from him.  Evil, immoral, sinful and wicked.

Now, that very man is in training to defend this country and she is alone most of the time.  As a sinful and wicked person, I took advantage of this.  Part of me claimed it was for artistic purposes, but the reality is that I saw something I wanted and I went for it.  That evil part of me wanted everything, and it took every ounce of restraint that I had to stop myself.  To be honest, I can't trust myself anymore.  The beast that dwells within me wants her, and wants her bad.  Some days are worse than others, but at best, it's a 50/50 battle between desire and restraint.  Lately, restraint is losing.  This is why I can't be near her.  I'm fighting a losing battle, and the demon inside is winning.  What's worse, the good side isn't even fighting anymore.  I'm a walking Sin Demon.  All that I touch, I corrupt.  All that is good around me falls to ash.  I bring evil.  I bring pain.  I bring sadness, doubt, deceit, and treachery.

I am evil.  Part lust, part love, part envy, part greed, all evil.  I want a married woman, and the tiny bit of restraint I have is the only thing stopping me from doing very stupid things.

And to the one reading this, I warned you.  I am evil, and you should run away.

Sparks

I know I made a post earlier, and that post was quite lengthy.  Also, as mentioned, that post was started while I was at work, and things have happened since that point that I feel like I need to get out of my head.

I'm alone.  I'm more alone now than I've been in a long time.  I've got my family all around me, but they really don't understand how I feel.  I could explain it, but they would just say "it's part of life" or something along those lines.  I suppose this is why I've gone back to drinking.  Right now, the bottom of a bottle is the only place where I can see the me that I want to be.  Because, as it stands, that's all I'll ever see.

The other day, my wife/ex-wife told me to fuck off yet again.  This time, I'm inclined to agree.  After everything I've done, this is how I'm treated.  Specifics are not needed, but I can't deal with it anymore.  With that situation, I lost my longest running friend.  The friend that previously held that position was lost when he tried to "steal" my wife under the pretense of friendship.  "Oh, we're just friends.  This is the same thing you and I used to do."  And this is one of the reasons that I don't trust anyone anymore.  Then I realized, I was him.

All my friends are gone.  I've got one left, but eventually, she'll be gone as well.  Everyone has priorities.  Mine is to my son and keeping him safe and provided for.  Hers are to keeping her life as she wants it.  There always comes a point where paths diverge and never intersect again.  We'll reach that point at some point in the future.  Near or far, I don't know yet.  But right now, she's the only friend I have, and the only one reading this.  Thank you, Marissa.  I know this may seem depressing, but you truly have helped a lot, but I really hate myself for being the friend that tried to take my wife from me.  I can't really blame him.  The only person that took her from me, was me.  I fucked up in so many ways I can't even count.  But thank you for being a friend for now.  I need it more than I admit, but eventually, it will have to end.

I try to act like things don't bother me.  Everyone does.  Everyone also needs an outlet.  With Facebook no longer active for me, and no friends to read whatever I might've posted there, this blog is the only outlet I have.  Perhaps I should try going out to clubs or bars.  But why?  To meet more people that will only leave in the end?  It's not like I have anything to offer any of them.  I'm not attractive.  I'm not looking for a "good time".  I'm not the best conversationalist in the club scene.  I'm a nerd, dork, geek, techie...  Whatever.  My kind isn't suited for being in 'popular' venues.  I mean, Christ, I'm a 35 (NOT 38!) year old man that plays video games, watches cartoons ranging from giant robots to pastel ponies, and sits in front of a computer and whines about his "feelings".

In the end, it all boils down to being alone.  That's where I've been for nearly the last decade, and that's where I'll stay.  After I drop my son off for the weekend in Virginia tomorrow, I'll spend the drive back in silence and drown myself in alcohol and work.

I'm not calling for a second chance.

"And maybe someday we will meet,"
"And maybe talk, and not just speak."
"Don't buy the promises,"
"Cuz there are no promises I keep."
"And my reflection troubles me,"
"So here I go..."

I sit here at work as I begin this blog.  Likely, it won't be posted until after I get home due to lack of internet at my place of employment.  Still, it gives me time to organize thoughts and consider topics and all that razzle-dazzle.  I have a few ideas floating around in this convoluted cranium of mine, so we shall start with something that has recently become a topic of concern to me.

Addiction.  I don't necessarily mean drugs or alcohol or anything illegal, but addiction can take many forms.  Some are harmless, some are not.  So let's go with some examples from my personal life.

At this time of the year, I get an addiction to all things pumpkin flavored.  Pumpkin pie, pumpkin donuts, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin air fresheners...  You get the idea. I go crazy,  but by the end of the season, I'm burned out on it and I wait until this time rolls around again next year to start the cycle all over again.  A harmless addiction.

Now, addictions take many forms.  Let's go to the next example.  It's not quite harmful, unless you don't understand the concept of moderation.  Alcohol.  Some people may not consider this an addiction, but it is.  That's why there are counseling groups for people to recover from this issue.  From the time I was around 22, I began drinking.  For me, it was a fun social thing.  I was out with friends, we had fun, and all was well.  Mostly.  Sure, I had some instances where I got drunk and kissed a few guys at a party, but there was no harm, and the girls enjoyed it.  However, as time went on, I started to drink more, and with less friends, until eventually I was drinking alone, at home, watching TV or playing video games (not a good idea).  I realized I had a slight issue, but then I met my wife, and that stopped, mostly.

After my wife and I split, a different addiction altogether, I found another addiction, and this one nearly killed me.  To this day, I'm still suffering the effects.  Opiates.  Pain killers.  Percocets, Vicodin, whatever I could find.  I almost overdosed a few times.  That fear of death made me cut back, but not stop.  Until one night at work, I had been popping pills all day, and after leaving, I felt like I was going to die.  I thought my heart was going to stop.  I went to the emergency room, but they could find nothing wrong with me.  I hadn't overdosed.  I wasn't going to die. I had, however, nearly destroyed my stomach with all the medication and because of that, I'm in the situation I'm in now.  Since then, no more pain killers.  No more caffeine.  No more alcohol.  My main vices were gone.  I had only one left, but we won't talk about that one.

Finally, my last example of addiction isn't so much and addiction in the traditional sense, but it sometimes feels that way.  Many people can agree.  Love.  When you're in love, you want it around you all the time.  Everything you do is for love.  It becomes your everything.  Then, when it is gone, you feel as if life isn't worth living. It becomes a soul crushing experience to simply exist.  By extension, even if love isn't there, one can become addicted to people.  Family, friends, etc..  When you get used to something being there and it goes away, you can have a version of withdrawals.  Break ups, military deployments, different schools, vacations, moving away, and death.  They can all have the same effect.

Humans are creatures of habit.  We like things the way we like them, and mostly, we don't like change.  Back to myself, I have reverted to a way of thinking and being that I had not been in for some time.  After being single and celibate for 7 years, I made the mistake of allowing myself to feel emotion again.  I knew it was a mistake, and in the end, I got punched in the heart.  Also, betrayal.  Getting stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend.  When you open yourself up and start to get used to things, that is when the Divine Fluffy One intervenes and takes things from you.

So, various forms of addiction, at least according to my own point of view.  And now, things are regressing.  I've returned to caffeine.  I've started back on Red Bull. I've started drinking alcohol.  I'm returning to old habits, all because of one addiction.  Companionship.  The most basic of human needs, and yet, the one I struggle hardest to deal with.  With my personal issues, I just cannot maintain any sort of relationship, friendship, or anything that involves another person, because eventually I will drive them away.

I am a hedgehog.

Further Content

To further expand on the last post I made, allow me these few moments of sanity in between bouts of alcohol abuse.  This bottle of rum is empty and I've nothing else to do while waiting for the Valium to knock me out.

I said earlier in the week that if I dropped below 20 friends on Facebook that I would eliminate it.  Well, as some of you may know, I've never been much of a social person.  That said, I never had a lot of 'friends' to begin with.  So, when I made that statement, I was already at 20.  Well, something popped up today while I was already in a foul mood and pushed me over the edge.  I dropped below that 20 mark, so I have discontinued the use of Facebook indefinitely.  It still sits there, being used for all those sites that allow you to "log in using Facebook", but that's about it.  No 'friends', no more updates, no more photos, nothing.  Done.  The people that wanna get in touch with me know how.

The photography site was eliminated a while back.  After my trials and failures lately, I gave it up.  I made mistakes and crossed from professional to personal and allowed my judgement and emotion to get confused.  As a result of that, it destroyed my ability to separate whether what I was doing was for professional reasons or personal entertainment.  It wasn't bad enough that my confidence in my own work was horrible.  I see so many photographers these days and see the work they do and it shatters my confidence, something I don't have an abundance of.  So, I've given that project up.

Finally, my self esteem has hit an all time low.  I know I'm not a horrible person.  I know I'm not the best looking individual.  However, after 7 years of being alone, I had gotten over those things.  I had gotten used to being alone and used to the fact that I was never going to be in demand from anyone.  I was fine with that, because I've gotten so used to being worthless that for anyone to waste their time on me would only make me feel worse.  Then it happened, and I don't know why.  Sometimes I still feel as if there was something wrong there, but someone paid attention to me, and I let it get to me.  Like a stray kitten, a little attention was shown and I latched on.  All my focus was targeted on that one person, even knowing that I wasn't welcome.  Finally when the time came (now) to end that facade, I was the one that broke my own heart.  I let myself care when I swore long ago that I would never let myself do that again.  And now, I swear that again.  I won't let myself do that, and I plan to stick with it this time.

How do I plan to stop myself from letting that happen?  By making myself completely undesirable to anyone (which confuses me, as I thought I already was) and returning to the ways of the past.  Being an asshole and pushing everyone away.  No friends.  No nothing.  As the Japanese call them, hikikomori.  Social outcasts, so withdrawn from society that they prefer isolation and confinement to interacting with people.

I never had many friends to begin with, and those that I called friends either betrayed me or disappeared from my life.  Those that didn't either will or can no longer have anything to do with me for whatever reasons, though they are good reasons.  Regardless, I go back to my solitary life.  That's how it's gotta be.  Me, my son, my medications, my games, my books, my work, whatever else can't run away.

Update

Just a short update.  Facebook is gone.  Photography site is gone.  Hobby is gone.  Friends are gone.  If things keep going this way, Matt is gone.

Previously on What the ...?

As I mentioned earlier, I feel myself slipping.  Slipping, sliding, stumbling and succumbing to my early 20's.  It may be a mid-life crisis sort of thing.  I dunno.  Aside from Phoenix, my sanity and insanity, I've withdrawn hope of caring about anything else.  I don't have a social life, though the meds have kicked the anxiety down a bit, so I could start going to the movies or clubs or something.  I'm also a lot more social, mainly due to the lack of a filter between brain and mouth.  But I don't dance, and loud music makes it hard to carry on a conversation.  So, what do I do?

It's not even 11am,  I'm ready to crawl back into bed and sleep the day away.  However, I made a commitment to go to work for a while, so I have to do that.  Which means I need to put down this rum and start getting ready to go in.  I have a problem.  I admit it.  But I don't care.

This is also a short blog entry, simply because I have to get ready for work and I just wanted to put a little something up here.  Also, to advertise my dream blog over on the right side there.  Yeah.  Over there.  The dream I had the other day... I had to record that one.  Maybe more later, after work.  Who knows?

Though I'm a bit of a shutter fly
I'm not like any other guy.
I can tell that you're a little camera shy,
but I couldn't just let you flutter by.

Perfectly Preoccupied Pony Payday

So today was payday.  I did what I needed to do, and then I did a lot that I should not have done.  I got my hair cut (should do).  I ate at the food court at the mall (should NOT do).  Been drinking for the last 2 hours (should and should not do).  Someone told me that alcohol was a depressant.  I always believed it was a mood enhancer.  If you were already depressed, it made you moreso.  If you were happy, it made you happier.  If you were angry, it put you where I am.

I can't go into the reasons that I feel angry, because that's a lot to type right now while I have the motor skills of a monkey having an epileptic seizure.  Long story short, I posted a song earlier on my soon to be non-existent Facebook that basically put my mood to lyrics.

"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut"
"My weakness is that I care too much."
"And my scars remind me that the past is real."
"I tear my heart open, just to feel."

There are many further lyrics in the song, but that's the basis.  I care too much, and I do far too much to help people that care little for me.  The people you call friends that stab you in the back or use you just when they need something.  They fuck up, apologize, get back in your good graces and repeat the cycle all over again.  I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of those people.  I'm considering a complete change in lifestyle.  Fuck having friends.  Fuck photography.  Fuck fetishes.  Someone said that I needed to be like the old Matt and less like the new one.  Well, the new one is out for one thing.  Me.  I'll take care of my son, my bills, but all that's gonna matter is whether or not I have a good time.  I'm tired of worrying about all these other people that wouldn't give a flying fuck when you're having an issue.  "Oh, your car payment is behind?  Here, let me help you."  No.  That shit doesn't happen.  I'm fucking sick of it.  I'm so close to losing control and slipping back into the Matt that only knows or shows anger.  Even the Valium and antidepressants can't fight this shit.  I'm just so close to being done.  FUCKING.  DONE.

We're up all night for good fun...

Sometimes you have good days.  Sometimes you have bad days.  Sometimes you have days that are in between.  Then there are days that start as one and end as another.  Then you have completely different time periods.  Weeks.  Months.  Years.

It's been a rough year for me.  Not as bad as other people by far, but rough enough for me to take note.  My car of 4 years, the 1995 Lexus, got to the point of no return, so I sold it off for parts.  I took that money and financed a 2007 Dodge Caliber.  I liked it.  Not a lot of power, but a lot of room.  Plus it was a pretty sporty looking thing.  3 days later, I was involved in a hit and run accident where I was rear ended hard enough to total my new car.  So, after owning this car for three days, I was without a car again.  Luckily my insurance covered a rental, which I used for a while.  They offered me optional insurance to cover anything that might happen to the vehicle.  I replied, "Sure, it's only 35.00 extra, right?" (I had only ever rented a car for a day or two at a time).  The gentleman said, "Yes."  So I agreed, signed my name and drove off in the beast of a vehicle they gave me.

Nearly two weeks later, my rental period was up and the Caliber was demolished and paid for.  I received minor compensation for my loss, but not enough to move forward with getting a new vehicle.  But, upon returning the rental, the company informed me that I owed them 500.00 to cover the insurance that I chose to use.  I was dumbfounded.  I told them that I was told it was only 35.00.  They informed me that was a per day fee.  I was livid and said I refused to pay it.  Well, I had no choice as they had my card on file and had already taken my money.  So now I had no car and was flat broke.

At this point I was at a low that I hadn't reached before.  I had no car, no money, my photography was going nowhere and I was being shit on by the universe.  I would come home, sit in my room or lay on my bed and just think, because I didn't have the energy or desire to do anything else.  It must have been bad because my stepfather actually took pity on me and loaned me enough for a down payment on a new vehicle.  Enter the 2011 Hyundai Elantra.

So now we're fairly current.  I haven't wrecked this one yet.  I did get rear-ended, but no damage was done.  However, the next tragedy of this year came at the end of the barrel of a gun.

While leaving work one night, I got in my car and was about to shut the door when I heard a tapping on the window.  Thinking it was one of the other employees that had just left, I looked over and saw a gun pointed at my head.  My first thought was that this couldn't really be happening.  Then the fear took hold.  Not a normal type of fear where your body starts to shake and your pulse starts to race.  No.  This was different somehow.  I remember the incident clearly, but I swear it was if I watched it happen to someone else.  I lost my phone, my wallet and my car keys that night.  I could have lost my life, and at that point the only person I thought of was my son.  I didn't want to leave him behind.  If it had happened a week or so later, my outlook would have been different.  If it had happened last week?  I'd have dared him to pull the trigger.  See which one of us had more to lose.  Did he want to go to jail for killing someone?  Did I care if I lived or died?  Last week, I wouldn't have known.

So now we're totally current.  I've been up and down on a rollercoaster of emotion lately.  I've been up and down and left and right.  Funny how girls can do that to ya.  I reached highs I hadn't felt in years, and fell to lows that I thought I would never feel again.  I felt confusion and elation.  Basically, all the emotions that people say come with being in love.  I denied that.  I couldn't be in love.  I'm immune to that.  I don't have human emotions.  There's just an ice block where my heart used to be.  Love is something for normal, attractive people.  Not people like me that always get that side-glance of 'what the fuck is that?'.

Anyway, I'm almost balanced back on a 'normal' level, but I'm still a little lower than I'd like to be, but that won't change for a while.  That part is out of my control.  All I can do is sit back and watch and wait to see what happens.  That's the part I hate most.  I hate being powerless or helpless.

This brings me to my final point for this entry.  The only emotion I will admit to having.  Anger.  It takes a lot to make me angry, and when I get angry, I become something that I truly hate.  I turn into this virulent and malicious spirit of pure spite.  I say the most hurtful things without regard to how it could have lasting effects on that person or on the relationship I may have with that person.

And one way to make me angry is to 'use' me.  There are many different ways you can assume this scenario.  If I arrange a deal, let's say I give you an old phone of mine and you offer to pay me a certain price for it when you get the money, then you should probably do it.  Just because you quit your job or whatever is no excuse to avoid paying a debt you owe.

If we're 'friends' and I do you favors and we go out and are all cool and everything, and you turn around and stab me in the back, that's called betrayal, and yeah, that'll cause anger issues.

Basically, you can lie to me, treat me like shit, talk bad about me, whatever.  I take all that shit as it comes.  Stealing from me is a minor thing.  Objects can be replaced.  Trust is earned, and once you lose that, you'll have a damn hard time getting it back from me.  And finally, I am very protective of those that I care about.  I'm not a big guy.  I don't have a lot of friends.  But if you fuck with someone I care about, you can be fucking certain that I can find some way to make your life miserable.  Trust me on that.  Fucking trust me.

And yeah, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm angry.

By definition..

..hiatus merely states a time in which a period of time of an activity is stopped.  So, from the time I posted my last blog until this time, there was a short hiatus.  I hadn't intended to carry on with this blog for some time until I received a text message early this morning.  It changed my mind, and my mood quite a bit.

So, on that note, today has been a far better day than the past few have been.  Still feeling the effects of the depression limiting my activity.  I don't have the energy or desire to get up and do anything.  Sometimes you just wonder if it's worth it.  Then you get those little wake up calls where you realize that it is.

While nothing of interest has happened today, I felt that I needed to actually make it known that the message I got this morning meant something to me and that there are people out there that I just can't let down.  Never.  Expect more later.

Hiatus

Let me preface this entry by stating that this blog will be going on hiatus, if not terminated indefinitely.  Lately, things have been heading in a direction that I don't care to record.  If there are any people reading this, I don't care to depress them, and if I am simply typing these words for myself, I'd care not to remember.

I'll start by breaking habit and talking about a dream I had.  It's short, so not worthy of my dream blog.  It involved a long text message conversation with a girl whom we shall call Melisande.  She and I had been chatting for some time, but the last text message she sent before the dream ended said, "I miss you."  At that point I woke up and reached for my phone to reply to the message, only to realize that I had about to send "I miss you, too" to someone that would have had no idea what I was talking about.

This is why the blog is going on hiatus.  I got myself into a fucked up situation and I further fucked it up by carrying on in a manner of behavior that I'm ashamed of.  I further, FURTHER fucked it up by doing something I expressly said I would NOT do when asked, and for that I deserve whatever happens.  After two days of binge drinking, the alcohol collided with the antidepressants putting me into a low that I had not known in some time.  Suicidal thoughts and such.  Thoughts alone, mind you.  I could never do it.  I could never do what my father did to me and I could not do that to my son or the people I care most about.  Still, I deserve whatever happens because of my behavior.

I wish beyond all else that I could make things right.  I wish that things were different.  I wish I weren't so damned emotional.  But most of all, I wish for her to be happy.  If my suffering will lead to her happiness, then I'll gladly bear it and do what I've done for the last 7 years.

This is Matthew Levi, signing off for a while.  Good night.

Blogging is for Lonely People

Seriously.  I've noticed that the lonelier you are, the more you blog.  If you have no one to spend time with or anything else to occupy your time, you blog.  You have to gossip or get your feelings out somehow, so you come to some dark corner of the internet to spew your word vomit into some datapile on the internet and hope that someday, someone will read it and find your words inspirational or some bullshit like that.  It worked for me once.

So, I made the comment a while back that I like to live to a higher standard that most people.  That I tend to act like I'm better than everyone, because I am.  I realized today that I was a little bit wrong.  After living in Fayetteville, the asshole of Fort Bragg, for all my life, I've grown up to despise the soldiers I see around here because they're usually the newly enlisted asshats that think they're just the hottest shit on the scene because they're military now.  So, I've hated the military for as long as I can remember.

Today, during one of those random moments of clarity that the Divine Fluffy One bestows on me once in a while, I realized that while I may hate the soldiers I've run across, I'm not better than them.  Sure, I'm pretty sure I'd lay down my life for someone I love, whether it be my son, or my family, my ex-wife, or even another, I don't think I could just randomly go out there and die for a faceless cause.  I like to see the people I help, and if I'm gonna die, I want the person that I'm dying for to know what I did.  I'm selfish like that.  So for all the soldiers out there that are fighting and dying, serving or have served, enlisted or retired, I apologize for all the shit I've talked over the years.  You are far better people than I will ever be.  I'm just a single dad with a shitty job and no hope anymore.  So I salute you all and wish you well.

Related to that note, all the fucking assholes that take advantage of the spouses or significant others of those that are deployed elsewhere and fighting and dying for us need to be castrated.  I know a girl that would be happy to do it.  I'm guilty of it as well.  I made mistakes and took liberties with a girl who's husband had just gone off to basic training.  While nothing was done physically, what I did was wrong.  Emotionally, I got attached and caused issues in her life, so I am guilty and deserve whatever punishment comes my way. I will accept it.  And, if the time comes where her husband confronts me, I will accept whatever physical punishment he throws my way without hesitation.

Hell, I'm about ready to just go out and get into a bar fight and take punishment just to make myself feel like I've made some sort of attrition for my transgressions.  But I'm lazy and a wuss.  I don't understand why people even talk to me.

Worst Lucky Chicken Ever

The universe and I have had our fair share do disagreements in the past.  Usually the Divine Being with the Fluffy Tail of Bitchslap and I deal in a give and take relationship. I give my blood, sweat and tears and in exchange I get a few table scraps from the Cosmic Feast of Divinity the the Fluffy One enjoys daily.  Sometimes those scraps are bits of filet mignon, and other times it's the gristly bits of the steak that no one wants.

Over the past seven or so years, I've been content with the lower quality scraps that fall my way.  I've been single and celibate for that amount of time with no intent on getting back onto that train.  I was "happy" with my work, my son, and my photography.  All of that changed a couple months back when I got the offer for. A coworker to use his fiancé as a model.

So, the table scraps jumped up in quality quite a bit.   Through the photography, she and I hit it off quite well.  As a photographer, I have a flirty nature.  As a fairly unattractive male, I pay that flirty nature no mind because no girl would ever react to it.  This girl was different.  Something clicked, and we became friends pretty quickly.  Over time, it evolved and we were doing more and more shoots together and the flirting became something more.  There began to be a tension in the air.  So, at a certain point, I said that we needed to discuss the big pink elephant in the room.

We discussed that there was something in the air.  We both acknowledged it and both agreed that nothing would ever happen.  At this point she was married and I am not the sort to intrude or disrupt a marriage.  I destroyed my own, and I would never do that to someone else.   I made up my mind that I would stick to that no matter what.  And I did.

As of writing this, nothing ever happened between us.  We never held hands, hugged, kissed, or anything beyond that.  Out physical contact was kept to a minimum and that's how it stayed.  That being said, we did some pictures at some point that someone found objectionable and it was brought to the lady's mother's attention.  After that, the hunt for blood began.

We cannot see each other any further, which is probably for the best.  I let my heart run wild.  I let my otherwise cold and bitter hear thaw and think that maybe I could have some happiness in my life.  I knew what I was doing was wrong, but the time I spent with her made me feel more alive than I had in years.  And so, as per the norm, the Divine Being of the Fluffy Tail smote me well and now I return to the life I led before; in solace and celibacy.

Of course, I say all these things and make it seem like I'm the only one suffering through this ordeal.  While I cannot speak on her feelings towards me, I know that many a tragedy has befallen her over the past month.   Some of it is my fault.   I caused much drama for her and I cannot apologize to her enough.  Some of it was brought about by the Cosmic Squirrel of Malice, and yet still some by jealous friends that couldn't have minded their own business.

So, the tl;dr version is:  I fucked up.  Let myself have feelings.  Fucked up a girl's life and lost a great friend.   Now I'm bitter and cynical once again.

The old Matt is back.  Be prepared.

Reversion and Regression and Retribution

((Apologies in advance for any errors you may run across whilst reading this.  I'm attempting to correct mistakes as I find them, but my skills are a little lacking right now as I have been steadily drinking since last night.  While this may upset some people, it's far better than the alternative.))

So I was told a little while that I needed to go back to being the old Matt.  It took me a while to realize what that meant.  Like, how old?  I'm assuming the Matt that existed between 2006 and early 2013.  So this is the post-Candace and pre-hope Matt.  After my marriage dissolved, I gave up hope on humanity and human contact.  So, I decided on a lfe of solitude.  No relationships, no friends, no socialization.  work, home, occasional shopping.  that's it.  So that's where I'm going.  Back to those day, because you can't fucking trust anyone.

Recently, I had hope that my life wasn't meant to be lived alone.  Maybe I could have friends.  Maybe I could have hope.  Maybe I could have love.  Perhaps not a relationship in teh standard sense, but still...  But no,  that wasn't to be, because you cant trust anyone.  People are liars and only out for themselves.  I've tried to live my life to a higher moral code and treat people as I've wanted to be treated.  I help when I don't need to, or even when it puts me into a bind.  I want to do what I can to help.  However, I've learned that all my good deeds don't amount to shit when there are people out there that, for whatever reason, will shoot you down minutes after you've done them a great favor.  I know I've wronged people in my many years.  I feel guilty about that.  Some people do, some don't.  So, right now, I can't even understand why someone would or could do something that they know is gonna cause trouble for someone they call a friend.

But right now, this isn't about them.  This is about me.  I messed up.  I trusted the wrong people.  I did the wrong things.  I caused drama for someone I care a lot about even though I knew that my feelings were the worst things that I could have for that person.  You can't just have feelings for a married person and expect that things are goingg to work out just fine.  Unfortunately, that's what I did.  I assumed that my optimism would work out in the end and that happy endings could happen.

So, I know this is a scattered entry, leaping from area to area and emotion to emotion.  I told you, I've been drinking for almost 24 hours, minus some for sleep.  Even then, I'd wake up in the night and take another drink.  I'm a horrible person, and thus I go back to my life of solitude.  I should have never given way to hope.

Lost Cause

((other post made at Dreams of Malice ))

Someone recently said that they don't trust easily.  I can understand that.  I have very little trust left in me these days.  I'm bitter and cynical, I know, but I have my reasons.  Of course, when this person made this statement, it made me realize something important about myself.  I don't want to be trusted.  To be trusted sets up expectations.  When there are expectations, people can be let down.

On the flip side, I have a constant need to be needed or accepted.  So I do whatever I can to fit in.  It probably comes from the lack of a social life I had in school. I was never a popular kid.  I've always been skinny, gangly, unattractive, and thus I've never really been popular with the girls.  I don't have many male friends because I don't think like a typical male.  I'm more emotional and tend to be more open minded, so I identify more with a female mindset.  So, I usually have more female "friends".  Of course, that's all they are and all they'll ever be.  Not many girls want a goofy looking bastard like me hanging around.

Even throughout my marriage of two years, I was a constant source of ridicule from the friends of my wife.  One particular comment I recall was one where we had posted a photo of her standing in front of me and I had my arms around her waist.  The comment said, "wtf is that thing growing out of your back?"  And I realized I was THAT guy.  The goofy looking bastard that just happened to be lucky enough to land a cute girl, and everyone hated me for it or was confused by it.

So after that relationship ended, I made a vow to myself to never get into another relationship again.  I would never be the "reacher" in the relationship and I would never allow anyone to "settle" for me.  So here it is, 7 years later, and I'm sticking with that.

On the original point of trust, I don't want people to trust me.  I can't trust myself.  I don't want people to think I'm a good guy, because I'm not.  Everything that I do, I do for a reason.  Sometimes I do things for kindness, but that is just to make someone happy or make myself feel better, but it's still for a reason.  Sometimes I go out of my way to help someone, but it's just to show that I can be needed at times.  So yes, everything I do is for a reason.  Some reasons are more sinister than others, but always for my own benefit.

What's the point of all this?  Don't trust me. Don't have faith in me.  Don't think I'm a good guy.  Don't think I have a heart.  Don't waste time on me.   And for the love of whatever you hold dear, don't fall for me.   That will be a fall that will disappoint and destroy you.

50 Ways to Say...

Have you ever wanted to be part of a world that you don't belong in?  Have you ever thought that maybe, somehow, you were born out of place or out of time?  Maybe your values are far different than the generation around you.  Maybe your ideas about politics are more old fashioned than current society.  Or maybe, like me, your physical age has condemned you to being outcast from where your mental age thinks you should be.

Sometimes I feel like I'm too old for how I act.  I almost wish I had been born 10 years later.  But if I had, would I have the values I have now?  Would I be the same person?  Obviously I wouldn't, so I couldn't possibly be in the same situation I'm in now.  Would I be a photographer?  Probably not.  I wouldn't have my son.  Would I know the people who are most important in my life?  Pretty sure I wouldn't.  So, I guess I'm best off as I am.

Still, right now, I feel like I'm too old.  I know 35 isn't ancient by any means.  I'm a single dad.  I have no social life.  My attempts at photography yield little in the way of professional results, but they are by far some of the best times I can have.  The wonderful girls that have allowed me to use them as models have given hope to this old geezer that maybe, if I try hard enough, I might actually be able to do something with this passion of mine.

And on the topic of passion, those that really know me (and I've mentioned in past blog posts), know that I'm an all or nothing kinda guy.  If I get passionate about something, I devote everything to it.  But if I feel, even a little, that the effort I'm putting into something is wasted, I'll back off quickly and reassess the situation.  Right now, I'm at one of those points.

To be honest, there was gonna be a lot more, but I can barely see straight right now.  I'm about to faceplant on my laptop and fall asleep.  And goddammit Spotify... that was the wrong song to play at this moment.  More later.  Good night...

Ghost in the Machine

"I'm not calling for a second chance,"
"I'm screaming at the top of my voice"
"Give me reason, but don't give me choice"
"Because I'll just make the same mistake again."

Yesterday's post didn't come out quite the way I wanted it to.  That's why it's not here anymore.  I was a bit more judgemental than I had intended to be.  My opinions are always pretty intense, and usually when I get to the point where I start writing things down, the emotion behind what I'm writing has reached a critical point and I have to vent somehow.  So, for this, I apologize to any that I offended.

Lately, I've been accused of a lot of things  I've had many things suggested to me that I 'need' to do.  Everyone in this world knows what is best for everyone but themselves.  Yesterday, I demonstrated that by running my mouth about my beliefs and not giving a thought to anyone else.  That was part of the Old Matt coming out where the only thing that is important is me.  I had gotten over that for a while because I had found someone that made me feel like something in this world was worth living for (my son excluded, because he will always be numero uno).  I got carried away, swept up in a tumultuous tempest of torrid torment.  It had been a while since I felt "human emotion".  I'd been living for myself so long that I forgot what human companionship felt like.

So, apologies and excuses out of the way, now I have to set forth on the path to right the wrongs that I have wrought.  I have no idea how to do that considering that I am not allowed to have contact with the one that I have wronged.  Any attempt to do so would make me feel like the creepy old stalker that I've been accused of being.  So, I'm torn.  Do I try to right the wrongs?  Do I just stay away?  Do I vanish into the shadows and hope that any trace of my existence is forgotten?  This is where I'm truly lost.

You saw something in me that I can't see.  I look in the mirror and hate what I see looking back at me.  I live each day and wonder how people can stand to be around me.  You honestly made me a better person, or at least feel like one for a while.

To you, I am truly sorry beyond all words.  And while words are all I can offer, I know they can never, ever be enough.  I know that what you are going through and what I have possibly made worse are hard enough to handle without outside forces trying to break you down further.  I am sorry, and if I have the right to ask of you, tell me what you want me to do.

Finally, if you've made it this far (I don't know how I have), as is typical of this time of year, my photography will hit a standstill.  The weather, temperature and holiday plans prevent plans from becoming reality.  It's bad enough that the few people that had offered help don't even want to remain in contact, which is why I've chosen to let them go on their own ways.  So now the cameras are packed away until such time as an opportunity presents itself (usually by slapping me in the face).

Over and Over

"I feel it everyday, it's all the same."
"It brings me down, but I'm the one to blame."

Lately it seems to be the same thing every single day.  Work and sleep.  There's nothing between.  I haven't been eating much.  I can't focus.  The medications don't seem to be able to keep up with whatever is plaguing me right now.  I know part of the problem.  Having a gun pointed at you is a terrifying experience, and I'll just have to wait to get over that.  The other part... well, I can't talk about that right now.

So, to anyone reading this, I apologize for all the depression that seems to be running rampant lately.  I'll get better.  I always do.  It's just gonna take me some time to either get over this or break away altogether.  Either way, the coming months are gonna be rough, and I apologize to my "friends".  That's why I'm trying to keep all of this confined to my blog.  Only those that really know me even know about this place, and I won't be spamming people that could care less with truly personal details.  So, I keep the pity party to a minimum.

Someone told me I need to get a hobby, or something to interest me to distract me from my problems.  But those things ARE my problems, or at least part of them.  Photography has caused too many issues in my life, so as it stands, my photo passion is on indefinite hiatus.  I can't sit down and play a video game because I just can't focus long enough before my mind goes where it doesn't need to.

Luckily, in public, I'm a good actor and can hide how I'm feeling.  Dunno how long that'll last.  For now, the overdose of meds is makin' me tired.  So I'm gonna go to bed and hope I can actually get a decent night's sleep.

Nobody wins when everyone's losing,

Sometimes I think I'm the only sane one around me. That's a scary thought, because I'm one crazy son of a bitch. So, I'm crazy and yet everyone else seems to think that I should make a choice that goes against my moral code. So, the question becomes, which is more important? Honor and morality or Happiness? Obviously, I want both, but life doesn't work that way. So I have to choose. Well, I think I have to choose. I may not even have to choose at all because the situation that requires the choice may not even present itself. It's one of those "grab the bull by the horns" things. And bulls scare me. They're almost always angry and prone to impale skinny guys like me. I don't like being impaled.

If you couldn't tell by my inane rambling, this is in regards to my last post. Not the one on dreamsofmalice.blogspot.com (Plugged!), but the previous post, Awakening (song of the same name quoted). Honestly, I don't know what to think or do at this point. I think, as someone told me, I'm overthinking this and I'm letting it get to me far more than I should. I think there's something wrong with me. I was convinced I had given up my humanity years ago and that emotion wasn't something I had to concern myself with in my new evolved state.

Random glare for Spotify and its choice of songs to play at this moment (Bruno Mars).

So, yeah. I'm insane. I have a doctor's note to prove it. And speaking of insanity, the cause of all of this, that started my troubles to begin with years and years and years ago, well... I think it's time I ended that. Photography. It was one of the things that helped destroy my marriage. I obsessed too much about it. Even now, it caused the situation I'm in. I'll never be a real photographer. I'll never be successful at it. And it only seems to cause problems. So, probably time to pack it up and move along with life. Time always works against me anyway.

Awakening

"I'll disappear... Take flight on the wind of wishing you were here."
"Fading light... Like a star who's light has been gone for years."

I made a mistake.  I knew it was a mistake.  I knew I was asking for trouble.  I fell for a married woman.  As always, it started harmless.  Photographer and model to friends to .... wherever we were when it had to end.  I knew it would be this way, and I thought that, after 7 years of being single, I was beyond feeling like this anymore.  I didn't think attachment still existed in me.  I was wrong.

However, despite what I've said and despite how I may have felt, I had/have no intentions of acting on it.  I'm not the sort of person that steps between a relationship, especially marriage.  I destroyed my own in that way and I would never do that to anyone else.  So when the order was given to back off, I acquiesced.  As a co-worker reminded me, I just miss having someone to watch stuff with, or chill out with, or even talk to.  It's been years since I've really had a friend.  I don't give a damn about sex.  I never found that to be important.  Sure, it's fun, but I can live without it.

Regardless, now all I can think about is what I don't have, and probably never will have.  My defense mechanism is already kicking in and this is the part I hate most.  Whenever things don't go my way, I tend to cut ties and seclude myself away from the outside to prevent myself from getting hurt.  I feel like a hedgehog.

((The hedgehog's dilemma, or sometimes the porcupine dilemma, is an analogy about the challenges of human intimacy. It describes a situation in which a group of hedgehogs all seek to become close to one another in order to share heat during cold weather. They must remain apart, however, as they cannot avoid hurting one another with their sharp spines. Though they all share the intention of a close reciprocal relationship, this may not occur for reasons they cannot avoid.
Both Arthur Schopenhauer and Sigmund Freud have used this situation to describe what they feel is the state of individual in relation to others in society. The hedgehog's dilemma suggests that despite goodwill, human intimacy cannot occur without substantial mutual harm, and what results is cautious behavior and weak relationships. With the hedgehog's dilemma, one is recommended to use moderation in affairs with others both because of self-interest, as well as out of consideration for others. The hedgehog's dilemma is used to justify or explain introversion and isolationism.))
Now I just feel that wariness to get close to anyone or anything.  This has been a rough year for me, and they say bad things come in threes.  A rear-end hit and run that totaled my new car is one.  Gunpoint robbery is two.  I'm gonna count this one as number three.

"So say we all..."