A vile, chosen victim of life

My favorite Orson Scott Card quote of all time is from Enchantment. "Life is vile, but at least I'm one of the chosen victims." Every time I become down about something, so down that I can't remember why I bother, I usually remember that quote. Some might say it's entirely pessimistic, but to me, it's purely realistic. Life can be vile and awful. But yes, I really do realize that it can be beautiful and wonderful too. I always try to remember that I am just lucky to be alive. It can be hard, though. It's hard when you see bliss all around you, in simple smiles that another couple may share, in a laugh between two friends. In a glance between two people that make them look like conspirators, lovers, so different from most glances my fiancé throws my way. I crave affection and someone who loves me enough to show it. I want to be happy. Is that too much to ask? Why do I always feel like everything I ask for is too much to ask? Cause really, it shouldn't be.

Some selfish, insipid ramblings

You know, I used to feel like a bad person for doing these. I guess I have become such a bitter husk of a person since, well who knows when, that I am simply indifferent now.


To the point: I had two very interesting conversations after midnight on Saturday. The first was with Al, whom I have not spoken with in such a time, that I cannot remember how long it has been. He still seems like the person I drifted from so long ago, only a bit more brooding. He said something to me that really struck home: he said I am not anti-social but that I have my priorities more inline "than the rest of us, which I have always admired." I must say that I find this to be quite ironic. Yes, I am the person to be admired, but never the person to be friends with. I am insecure, filled with doubt and disbelief, overly internal and withdrawn, quiet, awkward, but I am self-possessed enough not to follow others blindly. And where has it gotten me? It has gotten me admiration, I suppose. Who ever wants admiration? I want someone I can relate to. I want a best friend. I want a real, inseparable best friend again. The one you can tell anything to; the only who will always be there for you. Not the one you could lose if you break up, or finally move away from because really he shouldn't be here, as his job market isn't here. I want so many things that are quite obtainable, only I can't have more than one or two at the same time. I'm sure it is much the same with a great many people; my problem is that I am not sure which I want the most. Will I always wander through all of this so confusedly?


And the other was with Jeffrey. Conversations with Jeffrey are always interesting. We either talk about nothing at all, or so much of everything I feel as if I might explode because I don't have the energy to say it all. Saturday, was, of course, a conversation of the latter. Mostly about, you guessed it, relationships. I said some things I probably didn't mean that came out all wrong as usual, but then I have to wonder - do I say things so easily misinterpreted because how others interpret them are closer to the true meaning, regardless of what I'm telling myself? I am not even going to bother re-reading that last sentence because I probably won't be able to make any more sense of it. As usual, I know what I'm trying to say, even if no one else can construe any meaning of it.


All of this boils down to one thing: I have no idea what I really want. In the meantime, it's fucking up everything.


To further clarify the impossible, I bring you The Killers' "All These Things That I've Done:"

When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son
If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand

Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no

Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out

And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

Over and in, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on

The future may be bright, she is brighter

I live with someone who is amazingly bitter for being twenty-three years old. How do we get this way? Is it from one tiny misstep that occurred so long ago you can no longer remember when it all began? The slow build up of despair and frustration, creeping up so slowly you don't realize it's happening until it's too late? I know I come off as being naive. I really can't help myself. I know, I know; I've heard it all before: life isn't supposed to be perfect. Even the most carefully laid plans can go awry. Perhaps every person really doesn't deserve his/her chance at happiness. Every time something negative happens, be it a car wreck, a mislaid bill that goes unpaid or losing a job, people shrug and say, "That's life. What are you going to do?"

I, for one, hope to never stop asking, "Why?" Maybe it does make me naive, but naive or not, to me it's better than the alternative. I won't resign myself over to this, to any of it.

And yet I can feel it wearing on my already. Does being in a bad mood and taking your unhappiness out on others make you feel better? Really? I'm really not sure how much longer I can handle any of it before I snap.

The Ongoing Web 2.0 Movement

We had this discussion at work yesterday about implementing social networking and Web 2.0 technologies into our company, and I have to say it was one of the most interesting meetings we've had since I joined the company in July. I think nearly everyone contributed at least something and it was interesting for me to see the varying viewpoints across different age groups and backgrounds. In most of my previous conversations about new media, it's been will all 20-somethings and the professor. :-) But here, I was able to see many different viewpoints. It's easy to forget that there is still a large segment of the American population that does not to the web for news, friends, or research while in college. Because in our age group, that's what everyone does. It goes without saying that when we meet to work on a project, be it at the library or local coffee spot, you're bringing your laptop and DVR. To be fair, not everyone has a DVR, but at Scripps, pretty much everyone sophomore level and up does.

So. In my very jaded perspective, I think all larger companies would benefit from implementing some of these new technologies. Not all, necessarily, but that's the beauty of Internet-specific tools: there is something out there literally for everyone.

Ack, I am going to be late for work... so I will cut this short. With any luck, it will not take me a month to get back to this topic...

November already?

It has been so long since I've last written, yet I feel as though I have very little to say. It seems like that's how I always start out my blog, these days. I work, I sleep, I read. I write. I don't see too many people from school, or Ohio, for that matter, much anymore.

I work. A lot. Like... at least 55 hours a week as of late, so is it surprising that I don't have much to say? Shouldn't be. The only thing I feel like I could write more than a paragraph or two about is books, so maybe I should stop attempting to do a personal blog and just write book reviews instead. It would be a heck of a lot more interesting, and I would have a heck of a lot more to say.

I'm burnt out. I am, however, excited about the fact that I get to decorate my own house for the holidays this year. And about going to Bonner's to buy said decorations.

See, who said I am all pessimistic all the time?

Maybe I will write again in another month when I am not completely exhausted and actually feel like I have some time to myself.

Heh.

Isn't it Ironic, don't you think?

It's funny. Now that I am no longer a full-time student, juggling three jobs with schoolwork, extracurriculars and an attempt at a social life, I think I actually keep this thing updated even less regularly. Go figure.

Life is beginning to fall into a routine, yet I think it's less of a routine than it was before. I mean, sure, the job is basically routine, and it will be even moreso once I am finished with the college grad program in January, but everything else has become more chaotic and sporadic. In a good way. I do a lot more now, socially and otherwise.

I have finally started writing again, not just in blogs or a journal. I read so much now; I can hardly believe I have enough time to read about one novel a week (give or take, depending on the book, of course).

Since getting Chewbacca, I'm more active, too. We go to different parks in the area at least twice a week, which is of course good for both of us. :-P

At the risk of sounding like a real adult... life is pretty good.

Glycerine

it must be your skin that i'm sinking in
must be for real cause now i can feel and i didn't mind
it's not my kind, it's not my time to wonder why
everything gone white and everything's grey
now you're here now you're away
i don't want this -- remember that
i'll never forget where you're at
don't let the days go by, glycerine

i'm never alone, i'm alone all the time, are you at one or do you lie?
we live in a wheel where everyone steals, but when we rise it's like strawberry fields

if i treated you bad, you bruise my face
couldn't love you more, you got a beautiful taste
don't let the days go by could have been easier on you
i couldn't change though i wanted to could have been easier by three
our old friend fear and you and me
glycerine don't let the days go by glycerine

i needed us more, when we wanted us less
i could not kiss, just regress
it might just be clear simple and plain that's just fine,
that's just one of my names
don't let the days go by could've been easier on you glycerine


-Bush