posted
I'm growing quieter, I've noticed. I'm not as outspoken as I once was -- while I still laugh at my friends' jokes and conversations, my participation's growing increasingly scarce. I'm making fewer Funnies and staying aloof from more and more political arguments. I'm even, god help me, growing more distant from women -- just today, I casually flirted with maybe three, four different women, and chatted with them when a few started a conversation, but never made any serious effort at bedding them, wedding them, hell, befriending them. Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure I wanted to.
Of course there are reasons. First and foremost, my omnipresent exhaustion. I'm just so damn tired, all the time -- while my new workout schedule no doubt has something to do with my fatigue, I've been this tired all my life. In Costa Rica, I remember sleeping ten hour nights and still needing afternoon naps. No matter whether I'm thin or fat, working out or reading, that fatigue's always at the edge of my mind -- clouding my thoughts, numbing my tongue, dulling my wit.
I'm not sure why I'm making this thread, but to complain about a problem that's long plagued me and is coming to a new peak. I think I'm growing increasingly anti-social -- which is strange, since I generally like people, I'm just getting tired of interacting with them. It's not a slackening of my libido -- just last week, was it, when my brother came to town. But sex is growing increasingly empty. Goddammit, I've always been a mushy little girl inside, I want love and romance and her eyes to light up on the sight of me. Holding a woman in my arms is poor substitute for holding a lover in my arms -- or so I believe. So I hope. Truth be told, I don't think I've ever had that eternal-love deal. Ever. I've certainly believed I was in love before, but looking back, it's painfully obvious how idiotic, how mistaken my past puppy-love relationships have been.
An old friend of mine's been in my thoughts increasingly of late -- she's been my pre-occupation for the past month or so. I scarcely knew her, though I scarcely knew her several years; yet, her face haunts me every time I close my eyes and let my mind wander. We were never close; we never even dated.
I don't know what I'm trying to say, but I do know I'm failing miserably at saying it. Essentially, goddammit, I want a lover. I'm tired of dating, and growing increasingly tired of the social dance I'd have to play in order to find someone worth loving. Is it possible to become more immature as one ages? I can't imagine that my desire to find an eternal love and court her for a lifelong romance in the space of five minutes is anything but immature -- but gah. She's just not out there. There are women whom I believe I could have fall in love with me, more fools they, but then I'd feel guilty every time they swore love to me.
I want my cake and to eat it, too, it looks like. I want to believe my lover's a goddess, and seem to disdain those who mistake me for a god -- I don't even want to know what that suggests in psychoanalytical terms.
I'm rambling. I'm going to try to list this, to make better sense of it:
1. I'm growing increasingly anti-social, preferring my silence and inner monologue about the world to my friends and my love life.
2. I'm shifting my focus from sex to love, and in doing so set impossible standards for my girlfriends and practically masochistic requirements for my own status in a relationship -- a status that I've always firmly rejected in the past, that of the underdog. I don't put up with being the inferior (or superior) party in a relationship. This is part of the reason why so many pretty women annoy the hell out of me -- yet, if I so hate that status, why do I reject women (not that the shores are teeming with them) who believe I'm a better man than I am? Maybe I want an equal partner, but given the standards I set for myself (and consistently fail to live up to), I can't imagine what a monster she would be who can call herself my peer.
3. A woman from my past is haunting me, and god alone knows why. I have this indescribable urge to want to fall in love with her, though I barely know her. She's gorgeous and sweet, as I remember her, and fairly intelligent, but I don't know her. Why do I want her so badly? Why do I keep thinking about her? She wasn't anything special to me when I was her friend.
4. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to determine if I'm lonely or anti-social. I'm lonely in the sense that I don't think I'm really connecting with any of my friends (if that's not too New Age a term to use), and possibly haven't ever "connected" with my girlfriends. In fact, most of my "love" relationships and the romance involved were shams of masturbatory congratulations on how great I was, nothing to do with the girlfriend at the time. I'm ashamed to admit I've even done the same with "pity" cases. Is this really how I consider people? Tools for massage of my own ego?
5. I have no real reason for my current bout of introversion. I'm not a particularly introverted person as a rule, though I've always suspected I'd come out of the closet on that one eventually, but I have no reasons to do so now. I'm in the best shape of my life, strong, slim, and (if I can say so without sounding too vain) shapely. I know I can attract women -- this isn't a self-esteem issue, as I know it's been before when I was overweight. Then why? I was rather attracted to a pair of women at a table across from mine when I went to read (alone) in a nearby restaurant, and if I currently had the facility for charm and politics and wit, I think I could've done some naughty things with the pair of them. Yet, I had remarkably little interest in sleeping with either of them, beyond shock value and cheap titillation -- they're not who I want to be with, though I'll be damned if I know who I DO want to be with.
Actually, along that vein, I saw Big Fish for the first time today. God, that's depressing, though I seriously doubt Burton meant to make the movie anything but a feel-good fairy-tale-esque mainstream perker. In it, the father comes from a hick town and declares his love for a woman on first sight of her -- an eerie comparison to my sudden fascination with this woman from my past (let's call her Aphrodite, for reference's sake). He goes on to have a kid and eventually die; then the kid does the same as his father, referring to his father's stories as a kind of immortality.
Sad thing is, his father's dying dream was of becoming a freaking fish, and his stories are dull, if pretty, childish fantasies -- what kind of immortality is that? And if I do ever turn into a mini-Melville and publish a work, how soon until my work's regarded with the same disdain as I give Burton's hard work?
This goes back to my usual theme of achievement-vs.-happiness, for those of you familiar with my usual angst. A life of happy, ignorant bliss seems a failure of a life to me -- contrary to Bilbo's assertion in the first LotR movie, I see much shame in living a simple life, when so much more can be done with it for the betterment of the world. This sentiment's stayed with me for a long time, and is what largely inspires my horror with the career of permanent housewife -- shouldn't life be for something more than simple breeding?
But then, when I look on the other side of the coin, I rather clearly lack the ambition and ability to bring about any real form of social change in this world beyond lackey. Figureheading any such movement would exhaust me impossibly quickly, and lead to nothing but disappointment and disillusionment among what few deluded followers I'd ever be able to recruit. I wasn't born rich and to an inheritance of power like Bush was/is, and I'm sure as hell never going to have power handed to me -- but I don't think I have the stamina or ambition to earn any great degree of power in the world.
But then, for what worth is my life? What the hell can I do to justify my existence?
Despite my legible (if it is -- god knows I haven't been reading what I've written) writing, I'm somberly drunk at the moment. Wine. That's probably reflected in my rambling. Actually, I'm certain it is, but I don't have the energy to go back and check. I'm going to go to bed and make believe for a night that I'm in love with Aphrodite and the world as I know it doesn't exist.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
The thing about the life desires being dull is pretty lame of you to say, since it shows little consideration that people are different and have different goals and dreams. As for the rest, it sounds like you're experiencing what most twenty to twenty-five year old males start feeling. It's called growing up. If you're younger than that, rejoice because you've arrived ahead of schedule. If you're older, rejoice because there are so many people who never get where you finally have. You sound like you're beginning to want more out of life than the superficial parts. Run with it.
Posts: 346 | Registered: Jan 2003
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Lalo: I have some stuff I want to tell you, but it is based on my boyfriend's experiences. And given Tony is away right now, and not hatracking, I'm not going to post that stuff.
Suffice to say that I'll get him to read your post when he gets back (or at least approve my response ).
I do think he went through a lot of similar issues though.
Sorry I can't be of more help.
(Edit: I would email or IM you about it - but given your profile... )
posted
Lalo, you're getting ready to grow. It feels like this - dark, desperate, ennui, withdrawal. You are gathering your energies, and your subconcious is directing you in the ways you need to go. Keep doing the good soulwork you have begun. Be prepared for more pain, memory, and some terrible regrets. It's okay. Learn and grow. You are a beautiful person, and the lover you seek will be found when you are ready for her.
Posts: 3141 | Registered: Apr 2000
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posted
You know Lalo, I can totally understand where you're coming from. It's as though we're leading parallel lives somehow. Though, where you've come to this suddenly, it seems as though I've been gradually descending into this trap for the last four years or so.
My last actual relationship was in 2000, and my willingness to approach and invest time in random women has waned significantly. I want to cut through all the posturing and find the right one, but I can't seem to figure out how to find the right one - at least not with a certain measure of posturing.
The internet certainly isn't helping - when I'd rather play scrabble with jatrequeros and chat on IM than call up friends to go out on Friday nights.
While I understand the fatigue (I teach 12 year olds), I don't really think that's the cause. Jenny's got a point in that this is a stage of development, somehow... a chrysalis stage of some sort, that we'll both (hopefully) emerge from all the better for it.
If you start seeing the light on the other side of this tunnel, give me a shout so I can follow you out.
Posts: 3960 | Registered: Jul 2001
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quote:Ever. I've certainly believed I was in love before, but looking back, it's painfully obvious how idiotic, how mistaken my past puppy-love relationships have been.
I wonder if it's something to do with your age. Somehow maturing and realizing that love isn't what you thought it was--but you aren't sure what exactly it SHOULD be, but you have some vague idea. So you look for it, never sure what it is that you're looking for, a person in the midnight woods looking for a livesaving tree, knowing that you'll know the tree when you feel it. Do we look for eternal love? Probably--but when we're teens and young adults, we go with what we've felt. But those ages are transient and as we start creeping up in age, knowledge of what lasts longer creeps into your psyche.
So you become unhappy, perhaps, with random hookups and dating, because they're empty and don't add anything to your life in that they don't complement what you are and you don't complement what they are. You just exist and what you have brings no other existance.
I wonder if you see that old friend as something like that--a friend and a lover combined, something that will be something more than just sex and puppy love. Something, I'm not sure what, reaching to two people attached in some way and driven by something more that just the urge to mate. A friend could offer that--but then the question becomes, do you ever risk a friendship? Or are you lovers and then friends? Or friends and then lovers? Or, perchance, can both happen at the same time?
quote:Essentially, goddammit, I want a lover. I'm tired of dating, and growing increasingly tired of the social dance I'd have to play in order to find someone worth loving. Is it possible to become more immature as one ages?
I'm not sure if that's immature. There IS a social dance, a dance that begins when you hold hands with a significant other in grade school. You learn the dance as you get older, learn other dances, but you're never sure when it's over, when it's the tango or the waltz or swing, and which dance will lead you to what you're looking for. You're dancing so long that it becomes pointless. You sit down, aching to go out and dance again, but waiting for someone to ask YOU.
quote:There are women whom I believe I could have fall in love with me, more fools they, but then I'd feel guilty every time they swore love to me
I wonder if others feel that way as well. You have a significant other, they say they love you.
And you feel guilty, because you aren't quite sure if that's what you feel from them. You certainly LIKE them, but it doesn't seem that what you feel is reciprocated equally in yourself. So you keep looking, waiting to have what you feel and what they feel reciprocated to each other, something that feels Right and brings no guilt.
quote:I don't put up with being the inferior (or superior) party in a relationship. This is part of the reason why so many pretty women annoy the hell out of me -- yet, if I so hate that status, why do I reject women (not that the shores are teeming with them) who believe I'm a better man than I am? Maybe I want an equal partner, but given the standards I set for myself (and consistently fail to live up to), I can't imagine what a monster she would be who can call herself my peer.
Possibly, most younger folks are in the same predicament. You want an equal partner, a peer, but feel that you can't find YOURS. No one seems to make whatever's in you that gives you gut feelings shout, "This is it!" And you wonder...is it ever?
Hell, I don't know. But your posts creeps me out.
Not because you're a creep, but because it seems to echo what I've been thinking the past year or so. Date for what? Random hookups? Fun and games? Or someone to share something with...something more than sex, more than whatever that puppy love stuff is, something that adds up to more than them sum of your parts.
Posts: 14745 | Registered: Dec 1999
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Lalo, have you ever taken a look at whether or not there are cycles to your moods that are independent of things that are going on in your life? It's pretty common. I'm not trying to minimize your concerns, but I have noticed that you go through somewhat long periods of very upbeat posts and then all of a sudden you post something like this that is very sad. Further, I seem to recall that you posted something along these same lines last year and that I believe it prompted you to go to Costa Rica?
Think about it. I know it's true for me and once I realized that I felt depressed every so often regardless of what was happening in my life, it kind of helped me to take a step back and attempt to wait it out.
I really enjoy having you on the forum, dude. Chin up. Posts: 13123 | Registered: Feb 2002
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posted
I felt a lot like you describe for almost two years. I didn't fully come out of it until I had decided to give up my business and go to law school. Now, during that time, I also met my fiance, so that definitely had something to do with starting to feel better.
But the funk didn't arise out not having a girlfriend, and in some ways extended well past meeting her. Based on how I feel now and felt then, I'd say the primary difference is that I was not satisfied with what I was doing with my life. I had basically ignored a huge part of my intellect and was not happy about the ultimate contribution I could make the world where I was.
I'm not saying your funk comes from job dissatisfaction; I'm suggesting that some fundamental part of your makeup is not being nourished and that activities which don't speak to the problem seem pointless.
Good luck figuring things out; unfortunately I have no concrete suggestions for helping to do that. But you will, never fear.
posted
Lalo, I'm brand-spanking new here and don't really know much about you except for a very few posts in which you came across as frankly, rather immature.
Thank you for giving me an opportunity to know you a little better. I don't envy you the feelings you are going through right now. If I understand what you have said, you are tired of fleeting and shallow relationships and are looking for something deeper and more stable in your life. It sounds like you are looking for family, cheesy as that may sound. I guess that is how I think of finding your life-long mate, the only "family" that you get to select yourself. I do worry about some of your high expectations, but it really sounds like a deep friend and lover would satisfy the emptiness that you feel. Those who can't get over wanting a "godess" will be lonely all their lives. I think you can get over it.
That having been said, I have to stand up for myself for a moment. I am a full-time mom, housewife, homemaker, however you want to put it. I am not employed, I do not make money. I actually have never had a desire to. I went to college because I thought I ought to be prepared to have a career and because I love knowledge and learning. I have never really wanted to have a career. I guess that sort of ambition is not in me. I do, however, have a very strong desire to make a difference in the world and be of good use in whatever purpose I may. I believe strongly in the work of motherhood and am thrilled and proud to be in the throes of it now. I am so fortunate to have a husband who makes enough money that I don't have to work. Do you really think that a woman who chooses to be a "permanent housewife" thinks there is nothing more to life than breeding? I think I remember you claiming that you are not in any way bigoted. Perhaps you need to rethink your paradigms.
So, ok, I guess I still look at you as immature. That doesn't mean I dislike you. I wish you the best, and I really do admire your honesty/openness.
Posts: 7050 | Registered: Feb 2004
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Sucks in there. Dark. Cramped. Sticky. Stinky. And you basically squeeze it out of your own butt and wait around in that tiny brown butt-tent -- for what?
Posts: 37449 | Registered: May 1999
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posted
I'm not sure how to start this off -- when I wrote the above post, I was mildly drunk, and I'd love to be able to write it off as nothing more than moony retrospection of a depressed drunk. But it's not, damn it. I operate fairly normally, but this kind of what's-the-point mentality's always lurking just below the surface.
Enough with this pseudonym crap. Nicole's her name, and damn her, I never stop thinking about her. When I went to bed that night, I imagined her snuggling into the crook of my shoulder. When I work out, I imagine meeting her again at some chance occurence. Hell, when I'm dating, I let myself lapse into imagining the girl I'm with is the woman I want to be with. Who is she to me?
I've claimed sickness for the past two days, largely because I'm becoming so freaking apathetic to the world. Not to quote Vonnegut, but life goes on. No matter what I do. Heh, I realize that has suicidal connotations -- all the better, it seems deeper that way.
But no, really, I can do whatever the hell I want and the consequences seem so petty. Skip work? What the hell. What's the worst thing they can do to me, fire me? It's remarkably inconsequential -- not just in the greater scheme, in my scheme. Has my scheme become the greater scheme? Or has the petty flurry of jobs and papers always been such a small scheme?
If this is meant to reflect on anything, I'd guess I'm looking for a purpose in life. As much as I'd like to, I see no reason to believe gods are out there, watching over me and guiding me to post-respiratory paradise. I've lived life for the enjoyment of it, but that's growing increasingly shallow -- movies can make two hours of my life fun, and friends can make nights fun, but the rest of the time I'm stuck with my own damn self. And while I enjoy my own company, it's no substitute for a woman -- all masturbation jokes aside. Or is it? That's a paradox. Given how absurd the world seems, is a lover really what I need? Or just a patch to mend the world for a while, until it comes loose and I need seek another reason for existence?
Well, no. I sound far too bleak -- I honestly do enjoy life, and I love my friends. God knows I have no intention of leaving it, though I'd sure as hell appreciate some reason to stay in it. I wonder if this, in some way, inspired the idea of limbo -- unwilling to join death, unable to love life? It's a go-between, like a good party lasting into the wee hours of the morning. It's fun while it lasts, and during its short existence runs the gamut of awkward entry into the rhythm of the party to thrilling climax with a topless woman on a table, but when you pass out at the end you won't remember any of it. And living such a night of decadent sin will let you wake up, if at all, only in the fiery pits of a hellish hangover.
But before the green fairy drops me in the throes of the party, I'd like to leave my name in the snow to be remembered the next morning. Right? I may not be thrilled about my life, but I'll be damned if I'll let it be forgotten. Though, really, those are just brave words -- I will be forgotten, and quickly too, after my death. Hell, after my birth. The mature thing to do would be to accept the eventual demise of my name along with the inevitable demise of my body. And while I do my damndest to avoid maturity, it's a cold fact. OSC will be forgotten within the century, if he's lucky. What do I, a man of fewer talents and lesser background, have to offer that would last for a few moments beyond my funeral?
Marriage comes to mind. I can always leave a grieving widow and weeping daughters and mourning sons, if sons do such things. Which is fine, I can last as a fleeting thought in the memories of a couple kids in the next generation -- but even then, the best I can do is try to make those memories good ones so my kids can live without emotional problems caused by me. But my narcissitic ass still insists -- who'll remember me then? Of what worth was my life? I refuse to believe I'm limited to reproduction in terms of contribution to society, if reproduction can be called such. What is reproduction but the passing on of responsibility from me to the next generation? I didn't do anything with my life, see if you can? Fill the spot in the world I'm going to vacate. Have another couple kids, have them fill the role you'll eventually fade out of. Is that really life?
My Papi, my Mexican grandfather, is easily among the best men I knew. I've never met anyone more upstanding or patient or kind, and I doubt I ever will -- the stories my family tells about him are jaw-dropping. I wish I had a chance to know the man better. Unfortunately, he died when I was still a child, killed by lung cancer from his lifelong smoking habit. That god of a man is survived by his widow and children. He's remembered by me only for his incredible virtue and life -- I won't live a life half as generous or exciting or romantic, and he'll still be forgotten by the next generation. Hell, he's forgotten now. Except for my grandmother, I can promise few others in the family think of him on anything resembling a regular basis -- my father, my uncle, and my aunts are all busy with their own aging lives. I remember Papi only as the man I hope to live up to, and then only when I'm soul-searching. The man's effectively forgotten, except by a few select members of the dying.
But then, is immortality really the goal of existence? I'm sure I'm putting too much emphasis on the damn act of memory -- I've no need to compensate, no need to build a Trump Tower in order to make up for my other shortcomings.
Or do I? I'm obviously not very secure -- but why wouldn't I be? I'm not going to blow my own horn (of Gondor), but I like the body and mind I've developed. I enjoy the life I lead, though I wish I could do more with it. Though I don't, really -- doing more means more stress, more hassle, and whenever I'm in such positions I do my damndest to get out of them.
American Beauty's my favorite film for a reason. Spacey's character is me. I want a job with the least responsibility possible. I want to be in shape and drive a fun car and get the girl of my dreams. I can see the beauty in most things, though god knows I have a long way to come. When the movie ends, Spacey reflects on his life, his average, routine life, and all he can show for it is his family. His wife and his daughter. He's reached atonement. He had the girl, and refused her for her sake -- he learned how to express love for his daughter. In short, after a life of taking it up the ass, after a brief transition of taking life for himself, Spacey became a giver for the first time, and found a degree of implied contentment in it.
Then he died.
Is that my life, albeit with an extended period of taking life for myself? Will I eventually come to the epiphany that death is acceptable? Will I embrace fading away? The inevitable, mature decision is to go gently into that good night, maybe with a few gentle words of wisdom, as Spacey did. Doing anything otherwise is petty, immature, unworthy of a noble man. And if there's one thing I like to pretend, it's that I'm noble. Or at least tragic.
God damn, I hate it when my feelings are both so true to myself and so damnably cheesy. The only thing that can make angst worse, I've noticed, is when it's exactly like everyone else's.
But I've been cut from a cookie cutter, just like everyone else. So this is my time in the oven?
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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I'm not going to respond to any particular posts, since I'm not anxious to disrespect anyone by non-inclusion -- and to several of these, there's no real way to reply. But whatever else, I'd like to thank you people for being a damn good sounding board. Call it exhibitionism, but I'm tired of keeping this angsty crap inside.
And props to Mac. Heh.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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quote:Enough with this pseudonym crap. Nicole's her name, and damn her, I never stop thinking about her.
I was just watching David Lynch's Wild at Heart the other day, so of course when you say this I am reminded of this little snippet from Chris Isaak's Wicked Game:
quote:What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
Not that that means anything or helps at all -- I just make random associations like that a lot...
I'm also glad to see I'm not the only one in a slightly "moony retrospection" mood though. I've been that way quite a bit lately - more than usual, I guess I should say because I'm always that way a little. But the wonderful weather we've been having in my part of the country has been putting me in a better mood (odd how a little sun a pleasent temperatures can brighten one's entire disposition) -- but then I think, "It's still winter and it hit sixty degrees the other day. Maybe I should be worried about global warming."
No, Eddie. You are, currently, what Spacey's character wishes he could get back to being. Don't rush it.
Posts: 37449 | Registered: May 1999
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I seriously wonder if it is the season, or the gravitational phase of the moon with relation to the sun or something.
The weather here in Chicago is considerably more depressing Lalo, but I've been having similar angsty semi-depressed feelings myself.
And I have everything you say you want. I have a great companion who truly does love me and I love him. He held me when I bawled for a while last night about stupid stuff, that I know is stupid, yet I still felt like crying over it. I got homesick and maudlin over being back in CA, when I know my life here is what I want and what I've chosen after weighing lots of alternatives.
Though maybe it is dangerous to become too comfortable with yourself as well. Maybe this was just telling me to wake up, get off my butt and do something productive, however small it may be.
Right now there are two things on my plate I volunteered for and genuinely want to do, 1) repair Scott's Care Bear and 2)send out thank you cards to trophy donors for the Cardigan Corgi National Specialty. And yet,I have no motivation to actually do either, even though things and people I truly do care about are about are involved. It is like I know that I will eventually do them, but actually starting either task seems huge, even though neither is, in reality. So I then view everything from overhead as if outside my body watching everything happen rather than controlling it, and nothing ever gets accomplished, and I become maudlin.
I'm not truly depressed, I've been truly depressed and I know the difference. But creeping apathy isn't good for the soul, and I think the restlessness helps combat that.
(oh my I've rambled just as much as Lalo, and I haven't had any wine this morning!)
posted
Dude. Although the details are different, I know the overall malaise of which you speak. I wanted to be one of those lucky fellows who find the one early in life and skip this mid-20s crap. Guess it didn't happen.
Now I turn 24 in a couple weeks. Here come the mid-20s.
Still never heard a girl tell me she loves me. I am so tired of dating, but I need someone in my life and there's no other way.
Posts: 4600 | Registered: Mar 2000
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>> It feels like this - dark, desperate, ennui, withdrawal. << (Jenny)
Does it have to? Lalo doesn't much like it. Hell, *I* don't much like it. It's causing me to do things I wind up regretting, for the sake of trying to feel something. Lalo looks to be getting to that stage as well.
>> Sucks in there. Dark. Cramped. Sticky. Stinky. And you basically squeeze it out of your own butt and wait around in that tiny brown butt-tent -- for what? << (Tom)
Bwahahaha! Wow, Tom, that is comedy gold.
I think if Lalo knew what he was waiting for, he would have busted out of the butt-tent. I mean, who wants to stay cooped up in there, anyway? I know *I'm* waiting on graduation in the hope that life in the Real World™ will do the trick on my behalf.
Edit: Destineer, I'm 22. Do you mean to say that it's only going to get worse?!?
posted
One of the strange things is that I'm one of these optimists, especially when the weather gets nice like it is today. I think it makes me too passive. All I need to be happy is a blue sky. I feel like I can't work up the effort to really squeeze what I need out of life, because it's so easy for me to be content from moment to moment.
Posts: 4600 | Registered: Mar 2000
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Sometimes, when you feel like there you are with your life swirling round and round the drain, you've got to simply realize you're a grown up adult sitting in a bathtub with the water draining out of it. Stand up, get out of the tub, dry off the self pity and go out into the world.
You won't get any better sitting there watching the water swirl away and wondering if you're going to leave a ring around the tub.
If the girl is gone, she's gone. If she's coming back someday, then she'll come back. If you're tired and run down with everything, then just change what you are doing. Otherwise, you're just sitting in that dwindling tub of water.
Get over it and go on. Wallowing in the remnants of yesterday's bathwater isn't going to do anything for you today or tomorrow.
posted
I'll remember you, Lalo. As long as I have this set of encyclopedias. Do you like being called Eddie or Lalo better?
Posts: 11017 | Registered: Apr 2003
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Lalo, I assume if there were some way to get in touch with Nicole you would have already considered it. Sorry you have to deal with her haunting you.
About leaving a bit of yourself behind to be remembered, if you were to marry and have children, you could write about your life and pass it on to them. No telling how far the words would survive, but if each child had a copy and they continued to pass those copies on to their children, think how many people would have your memories at their disposal. Perhaps one of your great, great, great grandchildren might one day read what you wrote and be inspired.
Porter and I named our son, Sanford, after an ancestor who's life history we have a copy of. Porter read parts of it to me while I was in labor to give birth to him. We hope that Sanford will choose to read it himself and benefit from what is there. You might indeed be remembered hundreds of years from now, by one of your many descendants.
Posts: 7050 | Registered: Feb 2004
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I remember reading something about "early life crisis"--a modern phenomenon in which those in their mid-20s go through symptoms similar to those in a mid-life crisis.
I don't know. I know what you mean about the dating thing...I'm on relationship #8, and I keep wondering if he's going to dump me in a month like the rest of them. I remember after being dumped from #7, I felt so tired and hopeless--so sick of this dating around crap.
As for the not being remembered, that's something I've thought about considerably over the past couple of years. It started with the student center at school. It was renovated, and looks completely different from when I started. I tried to explain to some freshman what it used to look like, and what it used to be like. But it wasn't there anymore. Just some brainwaves and pictures were left, showing that it existed. And when those brainwaves are dead, and pictures disentegrated, then what? Nothing. It didn't exist.
I see this in everything. A rusty bus-stop sign. A building that collapsed. A tombstone. A person's life. I think I've come to the conclusion of that's just the way it is. It doesn't make me happy to think that, but hey, c'est la vie. There's no other way.
I would be happy knowing I touched the lives around me, in a good way, before I go. Maybe I prevented someone from commiting suicide, or doing something stupid that would have ended their lives or futures. THen those people turn around and have children that do good things for the world, who have children who find a cure for cancer. On the other hand, I could cause someone to hurt or kill someone else, whose children might have found the cure for cancer. Either way, I have touched the world in a way that will continue something, even if I am not around, or remembered.
If a butterfly flaps its wings....
That's just the way it is. Life is pointless, yet not.
Posts: 463 | Registered: Oct 2003
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