I had written a few paragraphs about getting older and thinking about some events that took place a long time ago. I deleted most of it.
I don't live in the past. People talk about moving on, getting over, forgetting. There are a lot of things I don't want to forget. I don't want these memories to weigh me down and be a drag on my present life, but I feel they are important to hang onto. There is no time period in a person's life more existentially frustrating than that of the mid-twenties. The years between 22 and 30 are a fucking blur of overwhelming situations coupled with a lingering feeling of perpetual nothingness that begs the question, "What in the fuck am I doing?"
But, life goes on. You are who you are now because of who you were then.
I don't live in the past. But I think there will always be a part of me that misses the nights where the only thing that was important was being able to sing the songs I loved as loud as I could with the friends I loved even more. Music is incredibly important to me when it comes to the people I choose to involve myself with, in any sense of a relationship. It's such an important part of my life that I sincerely feel if another person cannot understand that attachment that I have to music, then they cannot understand me, so any form of companionship between the two of us is pointless.
I've had a few moments, like those nights, since those years a long time ago. As rare as they might be, I've had them, and they do still exist.
And when they do, it is overwhelming in the best way possible. It's a connection that means more to me than almost anything else. I've still got that little spark inside of me that tells me, hey, man, it's still there, you can still get what you've always wanted. It's not that difficult. It is not impossible.
The place where I started my writing/blogging endeavor, for better or for worse.
Thanks to everyone who read there over the years, commented, and even joined AP as a result of doing so. AP takes care of my blogging needs for now, so I simply didn't need to maintain that site any longer.
I just wanted to give a huge, huge thank you to everyone who helped make today so much fun. I thought the video I made would get a few laughs, but I wasn't expecting it to blow up like it did. I was actually worried people would think it was lame. I'm really glad I could help bring some laughs.
Sure, it's nice to get the attention and have people say the usual "good job," "you're funny," rinse and repeat sort of stuff, but that's not the only reason why I do what I do here. Things like this really do bring everyone together and show how great of a community we are. Half of these jokes wouldn't have even existed if the site wasn't as interesting as it is. You had users from every corner of the site interacting with each other today. You had people who were having shitty days, and they said this cheered them up.
It's awesome when there's something going on where everyone can just forget about their bullshit and their drama, and just have a good time on here. That's why I started posting, and that's why I continue posting.
So thank you guys, it was definitely a memorable day.
All of these books and movies and relentless love songs have tricked us into believing that there is a fairy tale ending around every corner. Have you ever noticed how when you think you're over somebody, the smallest things can bring so much back?
Today I will listen to the rain pound against my window, and I will play the same songs over and over.
so this is odd
the painful realization that has all gone wrong
and nobody cares at all
and nobody cares at all
so you buried all your lover's clothes
and burned the letters lover wrote
but it doesn't make it any better
does it make it any better
and the plaster dented from your fist
in the hall where you had your first kiss
reminds you that the memories will fade
She was the only girl who ever made me nervous. There was this look she used to give me. I can't explain it. We would be in conversation, or sitting across from each other in class, and she would look up at me with those big green eyes. I never knew what to say when she did that. It was like she was taking the words right out of me, like I didn't even need to say anything. I never saw her look at anyone else like that. Was it love, was it compassion, was it understanding, was it sympathy, was she just fucking with me?
That was a long time ago. She moved away, we grew apart, and our lives took us on different paths. I missed her a lot over the years, and I never thought she would come back. My phone rings. "You know I moved back up here a few days ago," she says.
Sitting on her couch, countless years between us and a lifetime apart, she gave me that look again tonight.
I roll the window down
And then begin to breathe in
The darkest country road
And the strong scent of evergreen
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.
I remember being in your car. With this song playing, I wonder now if I scoffed at the irony. I can still see the road curving through the trees and the mountains. I know where we were, I remember how you looked how you smelled how you smiled. You had driven for miles just so we could get out of town, to get away from everyone else. It was one of those days where it felt like it went on endlessly, and yet when it was done we wondered "Is that all, is it over already?" The air was frozen, late fall was giving way to the silence and and monochromatic embrace of winter.
Why this memory has stuck with me, I haven't a clue. Years have passed, but it took up residency somewhere deep inside my brain and it comes out surprisingly often. We have completely exited each other's lives and it seems like that is truly how it was meant to be. It's not you that I miss, althought to say that I don't miss you would be a lie. The feeling that has stayed with me since that day is something I cannot forget. It was a feeling of being complete. A feeling of being part of something bigger than myself without even having to do anything. Things were right. Things were good things were good things were so good. This sincerely could have been the last time I felt happy.
Was it love? I know I fucked things up terribly, but for that moment, was it love?
It terrifies me to consider the notion that this experience is lost and gone forever. Was it really that fleeting? Please say no. I need it again, I need to feel that again. I have no idea when or where or how or who or anything.
People come and go, but things like that, they stay with you. They make you who you are.
There are instances in life that parallel the songs we love so accurately it is nothing short of remarkable.
It is nothing short of beautiful.
Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.
"do they collide?"
I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash
The world doesn't matter.
More often than I would like to, I encounter people that I know from years past. A massive amount of individuals that I grew up with are married, engaged, have children, or the beginning to some kind of respectable career. Most of them fall into the first three categories, and very few qualify for the respectable career aspect. This blows my fucking mind.
Where have I gone wrong? What has my error been? I have not graduated. There is no girl to hold my hand. I am not bound to any job. My path is hardly known.
Pulling myself out of bed is often the hardest part of the day. There are never plans made for the evenings or weekends, and I have resigned myself to being alright with this. I seem to be understood better by people in faraway places. The number of local acquaintances I feel comfortable surrounding myself with continually decreases. It seems at times as if the only structure to my life exists in the form of prescription medication and scheduled doctors appointments.
Lost. There is an overwhelming sense of being lost.
I have no problem with people changing. People should be encouraged to evolve and improve upon themselves.
My only complaint is that they do it so fast. Take your time, take your time. There is no hurry. Don't you see? We are all going to the same place, anyways.
We are all going to the same place, but I seem to have stumbled off the path. I have wandered too far.
I have opened the small black book that I have kept hidden on the shelf for a year. It contains a incredibly medicated and poorly written documentary of my life from the spring of 2006 to the beginning of 2007. I am unsure if I should continue in this notebook, if I should stow it away, or if I should destroy it. The sentimental value has yet to be determined.
Looking through these pages, it is absolutely saddening to realize how many plans never came to be. To see where the relationships failed to go. Failing to fully transform myself into the person I want to be. The negative memories surely appear to outweigh the positive ones.
Everyone has come and gone. These names are nothing but ink on a page. These people are dead to me. The love is gone. It is all gone.
These pages are evidence of the expedition that has led to where I currently reside. The memories were never made. It never worked out. I have nothing to show. Nothing but scribbled words written in various stages of mental distress, fueled by whatever chemicals were in my bloodstream during that week.
The names have changed, as have some of the places, the drugs, the doctors, and the desires. It matters not. It always ends the same. These pages might as well have been written last week. They are all the same.
Doctor's appointment in the morning. I am curious and I am afraid as to what the verdict is going to be. I know he'll have something he thinks will help, but often these are hit or miss. There have been numerous occasions where I have ended up feeling worse than before, and I have to start back at square one. This is a war, but I can do this. I will do this.
I miss the days when I could walk down the road and breathe in the summer air, not caring about yesterday, or tomorrow. I could slip my shoes off, and sit on the edge of the pool, talking about everything and nothing until the stars came out and it was time to leave. I miss laying in bed watching you sleep, your smell barely noticeable from my side of the mattress, but still strong enough to work its way into my brain. You would smile in your sleep. I often wonder if I do that, because it's so hard to smile when I'm awake. We drove to the top of the mountain, and threw all the campaign signs you were supposed to display over the edge, because there wasn't enough room in the backseat. The long car rides to the opposite end of the city that were completely worth it. The late trips to Starbucks where you would make fun of me for ordering a cold drink in the wintertime. Countless concerts, endless kisses. Standing in moonlit driveways while our friends wondered what was taking us so long. What was taking us so long? What has taken me so long?
Sometimes I wonder if these memories are mine. They feel so far away, and they seem to grow more and more faint. These girls no longer exist. These moments no longer occur. I have photographs, trinkets, and scraps of paper with words that no longer carry any weight. Why I keep these, I do not know. Dwelling on these moments in the past seems to be so much more appealing when the present is so uninspiring and cold.
I have myself. I have chemical compounds. I have my journals. I am going to document these days to the best of my ability, because they are making me who I am, and one day, when I'm better, I will be able to look over the fairy tale that I once lived. Sometimes it is terrible, and sometimes it is beautiful, but it is still my life, and I am learning to embrace it.