Thursday, December 22, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
By Popular Demand
I guess I will answer all* of my adoring fans … If it isn’t apparent by my “tone,” my Christmas plans have changed since my last entry. Originally, there was a better than average chance that I would be stranded in Santa Monica for the holidays, left to celebrate alone and most likely hungry… but no longer. After finding a loophole in my company’s vacation schedule, I managed to get off of work on the 27th and 28th. Because of this, I will now be going home to Baltimore from the 24th to the 28th. If you only knew how excited I am to get out of LA for a long weekend and surround myself with 100% real people again. That’s the one thing I can always count on family for: being honest and being genuine. It’s going to be so refreshing. I guess its safe to say that LA is starting to wear on me… faster than I ever expected or wanted. Regardless, it will be great to go home for a few days…
*by all, I mean the one anonymous comment from my last entry…
*by all, I mean the one anonymous comment from my last entry…
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Forsaking Destiny
99 times out of 100, if you were to ask me if there is such a thing as free will, I would reply emphatically no. In my opinion, everything happens for a specific reason and at a specific time. The true mystery in life is to figure out what that reason is, to pull the correct lesson out of the occurrence and move on to the next predestined event. But lately, this foundation of my view on life has been crumbling, which can only lead to one thing… and I desperately don’t want to go through that again.
What, you may be wondering, could cause my beliefs to tremble? If you know me, you already know there is only one answer to that question: females or, more specifically, two females, who, as usual, shall remain nameless. The first came into my life as quickly as she has seemed to leave it. What could possibly be the point of such a short, and what I perceived to be, intense encounter. This was the person who I felt could change it all, the person who would change me. The most painful part is that she feigned feeling the same way about me. Why would anyone purposefully destroy someone emotionally? Actually, scratch that, I don’t want to know the answer… in fact, I don’t want to think about this anymore, its getting me all fired up… on to the next issue, which deals more with timing and proximity. Actually, that will have to wait for another day… I don’t feel emotionally capable of writing this right now…
Yes, I know this blog entry went nowhere, but so what, it's my blog and i'll do what i want!
If you want another good story that sums up my life right about now, ask me my Christmas plans…
What, you may be wondering, could cause my beliefs to tremble? If you know me, you already know there is only one answer to that question: females or, more specifically, two females, who, as usual, shall remain nameless. The first came into my life as quickly as she has seemed to leave it. What could possibly be the point of such a short, and what I perceived to be, intense encounter. This was the person who I felt could change it all, the person who would change me. The most painful part is that she feigned feeling the same way about me. Why would anyone purposefully destroy someone emotionally? Actually, scratch that, I don’t want to know the answer… in fact, I don’t want to think about this anymore, its getting me all fired up… on to the next issue, which deals more with timing and proximity. Actually, that will have to wait for another day… I don’t feel emotionally capable of writing this right now…
Yes, I know this blog entry went nowhere, but so what, it's my blog and i'll do what i want!
If you want another good story that sums up my life right about now, ask me my Christmas plans…
Friday, November 25, 2005
at work
I know this is a pretty lame post after a month hiatus, but hey, it's pretty lame that i'm at work today. That's right, the time stamp doesn't lie. It's 8 am the day after Thanksgiving and I am at work. I've been here for an hour and a half already...
I'll post more at some point...
I'll post more at some point...
Thursday, October 27, 2005
A Good Rut
It's been forever, and I apologize to all my adoring fans... if there are any that is... without further ado:
I feel the rut deepening, back to its familiar depth,, back to where I can’t see out. However, this time, the walls aren’t so steep, aren’t so slippery. In fact, this time, it feels more like a bowl where I am always at the bottom, regardless of the direction I take. I know I can get myself out of it, much more easily than in NYC, I just need to pick my direction and start climbing out. But I am wandering again: moving laterally in life instead of forward. But then again, at least it’s not backwards, of that much I’m certain…
I know grad/business school is the direction I should take. It is by far the most sensible and direct way to figure out how to draw my life into focus. But my inertia is too inert and the temptations too tempting. My circle of friends is growing inversely proportionate to my desire to concentrate on what I should be doing with my life. I know this sounds like my life in NYC but there is a dichotomy that must be seen here. Here I am happy, Here is where I KNOW I need to be. Here is where I will be able to find myself. I can feel it. Rarely to plans in life live up to, much less surpass, expectations, but moving here has done just that.
There is an inexpressible joy in driving through a canyon and alongside the Pacific every day on my way home from work. It produces a calm that never fails to erase the memories of the day’s work. I don’t know why, but it always seems to make me smile, for no reason whatsoever. And judging by how absurd it must look to see someone driving alone with a dumb grin on his face, the feeling must be contagious. It beats seeing the discontented and defeated faces on the 6 train, that’s for dame sure…
I feel the rut deepening, back to its familiar depth,, back to where I can’t see out. However, this time, the walls aren’t so steep, aren’t so slippery. In fact, this time, it feels more like a bowl where I am always at the bottom, regardless of the direction I take. I know I can get myself out of it, much more easily than in NYC, I just need to pick my direction and start climbing out. But I am wandering again: moving laterally in life instead of forward. But then again, at least it’s not backwards, of that much I’m certain…
I know grad/business school is the direction I should take. It is by far the most sensible and direct way to figure out how to draw my life into focus. But my inertia is too inert and the temptations too tempting. My circle of friends is growing inversely proportionate to my desire to concentrate on what I should be doing with my life. I know this sounds like my life in NYC but there is a dichotomy that must be seen here. Here I am happy, Here is where I KNOW I need to be. Here is where I will be able to find myself. I can feel it. Rarely to plans in life live up to, much less surpass, expectations, but moving here has done just that.
There is an inexpressible joy in driving through a canyon and alongside the Pacific every day on my way home from work. It produces a calm that never fails to erase the memories of the day’s work. I don’t know why, but it always seems to make me smile, for no reason whatsoever. And judging by how absurd it must look to see someone driving alone with a dumb grin on his face, the feeling must be contagious. It beats seeing the discontented and defeated faces on the 6 train, that’s for dame sure…
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Anonymous Convo
anon 1: but its making me realize so much.. how precious life is
anon 2: i dunno if it is precious
anon 1: why do you say that?
anon 2: it's all we know...maybe life is like eating only peanut butter sandwiches... then you die and suddenly there's jelly to put on them..
anon 1: lol... you made me feel so much better
anon 2: i dunno if it is precious
anon 1: why do you say that?
anon 2: it's all we know...maybe life is like eating only peanut butter sandwiches... then you die and suddenly there's jelly to put on them..
anon 1: lol... you made me feel so much better
Tuesday, September 6, 2005
Another mystery postcard
The plot thinkens... this one is a 1984 vintage postcard from Canal St in NYC... but not even a postmark this time, how is that possible? At least the last postcard had one...albeit incomplete..
without futher ado:
"i can't wait for this stupid yeaR to be done. i have manged to discoveR eveRy paranoid delusion, eveRy fucking psychotic impulseand catatonic state. i can't wait to be free. my basic natuRe is as a child but i am being stuffed into an adult woRld. i should be thinking about my careeR moves but i only want to sleep."
all punctuation and capitalization is directly copied...
without futher ado:
"i can't wait for this stupid yeaR to be done. i have manged to discoveR eveRy paranoid delusion, eveRy fucking psychotic impulseand catatonic state. i can't wait to be free. my basic natuRe is as a child but i am being stuffed into an adult woRld. i should be thinking about my careeR moves but i only want to sleep."
all punctuation and capitalization is directly copied...
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Mystery Postcard
"how do you embrace each day
when there is nothing
to hold onto?
everything varies in
ridiculous degrees of
complexity"
-Anonymous
Who sent this?
when there is nothing
to hold onto?
everything varies in
ridiculous degrees of
complexity"
-Anonymous
Who sent this?
Monday, August 22, 2005
Typical
A bit of a disclaimer: these are feelings that have resurfaced and solidified only in the past few days, I am in no way discounting or disregarding anyone that has been part of my life in recent years.
Something just occurred to me. Up until a few days ago, I would have been hard pressed to find anything in my life that was truly bothering me, truly dominating my day to day thoughts. Life was good. It was the first time in years that I could honestly say, “Everything is perfect.” I guess I should have held those days a bit more dearly because once E told me she was engaged, this ceased to be the case. I knew it couldn’t last forever…
I know I shouldn’t be fixating on this as much as I am. I hadn’t seen her since my 23rd birthday and I knew that there was a more than an outside chance I may never even see her again, but none of these thoughts were actually concrete facts. I felt, as E still does, that our paths would cross again at some point. How could they not? In this life, how often to you meet someone who felt like the missing half of the puzzle, who felt like the sun that was always there, even if obscured by clouds. It took completely and utterly losing E to realize that this is what she was for me.
Looking back, I can’t believe it was me who left her, me who ended what was, without a doubt, the happiest times of my life. I was so blinded by my own hormones and ego, made concrete by my senior year of college, that I couldn’t see I was throwing away a part of myself.
If I could take that back, I would. In a heartbeat…in a fraction of a heartbeat…in less than a heartbeat.
As I write this, Coldplay’s “Fix You” plays in the background…how apropos:
“Tears stream down your face,
When you lose something you cannot replace.
Tears stream down your face, and I…
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you”
Something just occurred to me. Up until a few days ago, I would have been hard pressed to find anything in my life that was truly bothering me, truly dominating my day to day thoughts. Life was good. It was the first time in years that I could honestly say, “Everything is perfect.” I guess I should have held those days a bit more dearly because once E told me she was engaged, this ceased to be the case. I knew it couldn’t last forever…
I know I shouldn’t be fixating on this as much as I am. I hadn’t seen her since my 23rd birthday and I knew that there was a more than an outside chance I may never even see her again, but none of these thoughts were actually concrete facts. I felt, as E still does, that our paths would cross again at some point. How could they not? In this life, how often to you meet someone who felt like the missing half of the puzzle, who felt like the sun that was always there, even if obscured by clouds. It took completely and utterly losing E to realize that this is what she was for me.
Looking back, I can’t believe it was me who left her, me who ended what was, without a doubt, the happiest times of my life. I was so blinded by my own hormones and ego, made concrete by my senior year of college, that I couldn’t see I was throwing away a part of myself.
If I could take that back, I would. In a heartbeat…in a fraction of a heartbeat…in less than a heartbeat.
As I write this, Coldplay’s “Fix You” plays in the background…how apropos:
“Tears stream down your face,
When you lose something you cannot replace.
Tears stream down your face, and I…
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you”
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Friendship and Changes
Why is it that the changes we choose to make end up change others more than we could ever hope to affect ourselves. Why is it that the simple and inevitable passing of time can forever alter the dynamics of a relationship, be it intimate or friendly? I know that the answers to these questions don't exist, but that doesn't mean that they don't have any merit.
Even though everyone thinks of themselves as special cases when they compare themselves to the rest of society, me being no exception, I honestly believe I am the same person I was when I left Manhattan, or even as when I left Boston. There was a period when I lived in Brooklyn where, due to some extenuating circumstances, I wasn't really myself. But other than that, I don't feel as if I've changed all that much in the past few years. I'd like to think that the average person doesn't change all that much either in such a short time period, barring a life altering, catastrophic event. That being said, how is it that relationship dynamics can change if neither person has changed? What is it that's different? So I guess my question on why friendships and relationships evaporate, boils down to a question of why people become friends in the first place...
The pessimistic Tim would answer that question by saying that people only become friends because they need something from that other person, be it a physical or a psychological need. The pessimistic Tim believes that people are only motivated by greed and desire. The pessimistic Tim is...Well, pessimistic. That being said, its self-evident as to why I don't have many long term friends.
Someone, anyone, please convince me otherwise...
Even though everyone thinks of themselves as special cases when they compare themselves to the rest of society, me being no exception, I honestly believe I am the same person I was when I left Manhattan, or even as when I left Boston. There was a period when I lived in Brooklyn where, due to some extenuating circumstances, I wasn't really myself. But other than that, I don't feel as if I've changed all that much in the past few years. I'd like to think that the average person doesn't change all that much either in such a short time period, barring a life altering, catastrophic event. That being said, how is it that relationship dynamics can change if neither person has changed? What is it that's different? So I guess my question on why friendships and relationships evaporate, boils down to a question of why people become friends in the first place...
The pessimistic Tim would answer that question by saying that people only become friends because they need something from that other person, be it a physical or a psychological need. The pessimistic Tim believes that people are only motivated by greed and desire. The pessimistic Tim is...Well, pessimistic. That being said, its self-evident as to why I don't have many long term friends.
Someone, anyone, please convince me otherwise...
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Upside...Down
The post about my job will have to wait....But now, for some breaking news....at least breaking for me...
Erin is getting married. Erin Wallace is engaged... If you've known me long enough, you know who she is and what this means. Hell, she had been such a big, if not the biggest, part of my life (unfortunately that phrase is past tense...as of two years ago) that I will even mention her by name, something I almost never do on this blog.
What do you say when you learn that the only person you've ever said "I love you" is getting married? What happens to that unseverable connection between your idea of love and the first person you fell in love with? I should be happy for her, happy because she is happy...and I am...for the most part. But there is still that part of me that is alive because she awoke it, because she showed it to me. That part of me erupted when she told me the news. All I have to do is think about it for a split second and my mind starts racing. I can't even put into words how I am feeling....and that is a first.
I guess all I know for sure is that a part of my life, the best part of my life that I will forever cling to, just slipped away. It's not gone, but it's no longer living. It is now, and forever will be, just a memory. The door has closed and the page has turned.
If I seem overdramatic, then my sentiments are being appropriately expressed.
All I can say, I guess, is that this has made me ever so slightly more cynical, ever so slightly more closed off, ever so slightly more... grown up.
Erin, as always, I wish you the best. Be happy. Know that you were, are, and will forever be, what made me the person I am today.
Erin is getting married. Erin Wallace is engaged... If you've known me long enough, you know who she is and what this means. Hell, she had been such a big, if not the biggest, part of my life (unfortunately that phrase is past tense...as of two years ago) that I will even mention her by name, something I almost never do on this blog.
What do you say when you learn that the only person you've ever said "I love you" is getting married? What happens to that unseverable connection between your idea of love and the first person you fell in love with? I should be happy for her, happy because she is happy...and I am...for the most part. But there is still that part of me that is alive because she awoke it, because she showed it to me. That part of me erupted when she told me the news. All I have to do is think about it for a split second and my mind starts racing. I can't even put into words how I am feeling....and that is a first.
I guess all I know for sure is that a part of my life, the best part of my life that I will forever cling to, just slipped away. It's not gone, but it's no longer living. It is now, and forever will be, just a memory. The door has closed and the page has turned.
If I seem overdramatic, then my sentiments are being appropriately expressed.
All I can say, I guess, is that this has made me ever so slightly more cynical, ever so slightly more closed off, ever so slightly more... grown up.
Erin, as always, I wish you the best. Be happy. Know that you were, are, and will forever be, what made me the person I am today.
Monday, August 1, 2005
Sunday, July 31, 2005
A Day of New Beginnings
Come Monday, my new life begins...officially at least. My new job as an internal wholeseller at AIG SunAmerica begins sharply at 8 AM. What, you may ask, is an internal wholeseller? My answer would be simple: ask me monday night... if i still can't answer it. Ask me in a few weeks once my training is complete.
Regardless of what this job holds in store for me, it has already served it purpose: tricking a management company into thinking me a fiscally responsible person and allowing me to sign a 1-year rental agreement. My new apartment is located in Santa Monica, ten short blocks from the beach and within 10 blocks of all the nightlife and shopping anyone could ever ask for... all for the price that would make any Manhattanite shake their fist in anger. I move into this beauty (which by the way also has a large patio looking out onto palm trees and a garden) after work on Monday. Pictures will be forthcoming.
Regardless of what this job holds in store for me, it has already served it purpose: tricking a management company into thinking me a fiscally responsible person and allowing me to sign a 1-year rental agreement. My new apartment is located in Santa Monica, ten short blocks from the beach and within 10 blocks of all the nightlife and shopping anyone could ever ask for... all for the price that would make any Manhattanite shake their fist in anger. I move into this beauty (which by the way also has a large patio looking out onto palm trees and a garden) after work on Monday. Pictures will be forthcoming.
buzzzzed smile
The much put-off, oft-debated buzz cut has occurred... My Cali transformation is complete
matador beach
Why stay back east when you can be surrounded by beauty like this?
Matador Beach is in Malibu... and about a 15 minute drive up the PCH from my new apt in Santa Monica
Matador Beach is in Malibu... and about a 15 minute drive up the PCH from my new apt in Santa Monica
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
11 Crazy Years
I realized something tonight. I was talking online to my friend JB and she mentioned that she had been in New York for almost seven years. It got me thinking to how long it’s been since I’ve lived in any place for more that 4 years. I would have to go back to seventh grade, or 1994, when I moved to Houston. My life since then is as follows:
Houston – 4 years
Gettysburg – Summer before Senior Year
Baltimore – 1 year
Boston – 4 years
Baltimore – Summer after Freshman Year
Boston – Summer after Sophomore Year
Newport – Summer after Junior Year
Boston/Chicago/Baltimore – Summer after Senior Year
New York City – Almost 2 years
Los Angeles – A little over 3 weeks
Not to mention the insane variety of jobs I’ve had:
Ghosts of Gettysburg – 3 months
Old Navy – 3 months
Starbucks – 3 years
Abercrombie – 2 years
Naval Undersea Warfare Center – 3 months
Camper – 8 months
New York Sports Club – 5 months
French Connection – 4 months
Science Applications International Corporation – 11 months
Town Tavern (bartending) – a few times a month for 4 months
Modelling – 3 (wasted) months
When I go over that bizarre and diverse list of where I’ve been and what I’ve done, it’s no wonder the thought of “growing up” or “settling down” is so foreign to me…
I don’t know if I will even ever be able to…
Unless of course I can find whatever it is I’m searching for…
Houston – 4 years
Gettysburg – Summer before Senior Year
Baltimore – 1 year
Boston – 4 years
Baltimore – Summer after Freshman Year
Boston – Summer after Sophomore Year
Newport – Summer after Junior Year
Boston/Chicago/Baltimore – Summer after Senior Year
New York City – Almost 2 years
Los Angeles – A little over 3 weeks
Not to mention the insane variety of jobs I’ve had:
Ghosts of Gettysburg – 3 months
Old Navy – 3 months
Starbucks – 3 years
Abercrombie – 2 years
Naval Undersea Warfare Center – 3 months
Camper – 8 months
New York Sports Club – 5 months
French Connection – 4 months
Science Applications International Corporation – 11 months
Town Tavern (bartending) – a few times a month for 4 months
Modelling – 3 (wasted) months
When I go over that bizarre and diverse list of where I’ve been and what I’ve done, it’s no wonder the thought of “growing up” or “settling down” is so foreign to me…
I don’t know if I will even ever be able to…
Unless of course I can find whatever it is I’m searching for…
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Some Peace...
What to write, what to write? Do I find that I have nothing to say because my mind is finally at peace or because there is simply nothing going on in my life right now. Every day is the same. Sleep in, eat, TV, gym, TV, eat, sleep, repeat. There are so many things I could be doing. I am in a completely new place with completely new people. Everything thing is new to me. And yet, I do nothing. Why? If I had to answer, I would say its because this is the calm before the storm, the deep inhalation before the race. I know that come August One, when I move again, my real Los Angeles experience will begin. That is when I'll be where I want to be: close to the beach with (hopefully) a year rental agreement signed and with (hopefully) a job that I love. That's a lot of hope. But I don'’t see anything wrong with that. Call me Andy Duphrane: Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. I know because didn't used to have hope in my life. I had resigned myself to the monotony of adulthood. I had accepted the fact that not everyday will be exciting, new, different. But why? It was this epiphany that set the wheels in motion to get me where I am today. I refused to be like everyone else. At this point, why settle down? Why lock myself into a life I don't want and never wanted? I see people unhappy with their lives and refusing to do anything about it. Not me.
The idea of taking all your possessions, everything you thought you needed and would have forever, and piling them up in the front yard of your god-awful landlord is considered insane. The idea of quitting a good job and moving across the country with no job and no plan is considered insane. The idea of leaving everyone you care about 4000 miles away is considered insane. Well, to me, forgetting happiness and letting your dreams slip into the past unfulfilled is the craziest idea of all. I know it seems that this is all I talk about lately, but I can't help it. It'’s what just about everyone says to me the second I tell them why I moved out here. It'’s only the ones that say congratulations that I continue talking to. I feel I need to surround myself with people who understand why this move had to be done, people who know what I'’m talking about because they did the exact same thing. It's strange, out here, most people feel the same way, but back east, it was totally different. Nine out of ten people thought I had lost my mind. Maybe I did, or maybe I finally found it...but I don'’t regret anything, not one single thing I've done. If you don'’t know what I'’m talking about, come visit...you'’ll understand and, most likely, never want to leave.
The idea of taking all your possessions, everything you thought you needed and would have forever, and piling them up in the front yard of your god-awful landlord is considered insane. The idea of quitting a good job and moving across the country with no job and no plan is considered insane. The idea of leaving everyone you care about 4000 miles away is considered insane. Well, to me, forgetting happiness and letting your dreams slip into the past unfulfilled is the craziest idea of all. I know it seems that this is all I talk about lately, but I can't help it. It'’s what just about everyone says to me the second I tell them why I moved out here. It'’s only the ones that say congratulations that I continue talking to. I feel I need to surround myself with people who understand why this move had to be done, people who know what I'’m talking about because they did the exact same thing. It's strange, out here, most people feel the same way, but back east, it was totally different. Nine out of ten people thought I had lost my mind. Maybe I did, or maybe I finally found it...but I don'’t regret anything, not one single thing I've done. If you don'’t know what I'’m talking about, come visit...you'’ll understand and, most likely, never want to leave.
Friday, July 1, 2005
Soon to hit
As I look back on my first two weeks on the Left Coast, what do I see. Do I still think this was the best move I could have made? Or do I realize that I never should have left my life in New York? If I am forced to answer the question at this very moment, I would have to say that my feelings reside somewhere in between the two extremes. I know that right now, I am in a state of limbo. I haven't fully settled into my apartment (due to extremely frustrating elements out of my control), I haven't become fully comfortable navigating the city, and, most importantly, I haven't found a job yet. I know that until I find a job, this will continue to feel like an extended vacation, not the life altering move that it truly is. But what do I want to do? Should I try to appease the outside pressures and continue my struggle in the 9 to 5 world, make a comfortable amount of money, but have have 95% chance of being miserable? Or should I go back to the where-will-my-next-paycheck-come-from lifestyle that defined my first year in New York? Questions that I don't want to face ... and the more I face, the further the answers seem to get...
...
On a lighter note, I have been introduced to/discovered some great new bands:
Delays - Faded Seaside Glamour
Doves - The Last Broadcast
South - With the Tides
If you like Brit Indie Rock (and who doesn't!), check them out!
...
On a lighter note, I have been introduced to/discovered some great new bands:
Delays - Faded Seaside Glamour
Doves - The Last Broadcast
South - With the Tides
If you like Brit Indie Rock (and who doesn't!), check them out!
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
the first weeks
Well, the first week and a half is over and it looks like my life is finally about to settle down. Since I've been here, I've stayed at two resorts (one in Santa Monica and one in Huntington Beach), eaten at the best restaurants (both Ivy's, Shutters, etc..), and seen a ton of celebrities. Basically, I've lived in a dream world. It's strange how being happy has driven my blog postings down to zero. I guess when I'm happy, I don't have much to say.
I would like to apologize to anyone I haven't spoken to back in NYC, but I haven't really spoken to anyone. I'm sure that will change with time. Please don't take it personally.
I would like to apologize to anyone I haven't spoken to back in NYC, but I haven't really spoken to anyone. I'm sure that will change with time. Please don't take it personally.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
A Recap of the Trip
Well, here was the trip:
Baltimore
Boston (1 Night)
Columbus (2 Nights)
Chicago ( 3 Nights)
Rapid City, SD (1 Night)
Salt Lake City (1 Night)
San Francisco (1 Night)
Buellton, CA (1 Night)
Los Angeles
Thanks to all who let G and I crash at their places, it was greatly appreciated.
Pictures are forthcoming.
PS: RIP Aviators and Sox cap. We had some great times together...
Baltimore
Boston (1 Night)
Columbus (2 Nights)
Chicago ( 3 Nights)
Rapid City, SD (1 Night)
Salt Lake City (1 Night)
San Francisco (1 Night)
Buellton, CA (1 Night)
Los Angeles
Thanks to all who let G and I crash at their places, it was greatly appreciated.
Pictures are forthcoming.
PS: RIP Aviators and Sox cap. We had some great times together...
A Retraction
sorry for the delay, but it has been forever since i've had internet access. after reading my last post, i would like to issue a retraction and blame it on total intoxication. never drink and blog! and whoever posted that comment, why would you do it annonymously?
Thursday, June 9, 2005
a wave of melancholy
sitting here i realize, i'm moving to get away. to get away from everyone and everything. and i mean everyone. unless i saw you in MD this means you. i need to get away. to forget about everyone and everything. to move on with my life. this is what i have to say: thank you for the time i spent with you, but its over now. sorry
Day 1
Day One: 12 hours in the car, ending at Ohio State.
Number of bottles of water imbibed: 8
Number of bathroom stops: 4
Number of gas fill-ups: 3
Number of meals eaten: 0
Number of insane people: 2
Lesson learned: Greg drives like Superman flies...
Next stop: Chicago
Number of bottles of water imbibed: 8
Number of bathroom stops: 4
Number of gas fill-ups: 3
Number of meals eaten: 0
Number of insane people: 2
Lesson learned: Greg drives like Superman flies...
Next stop: Chicago
The Trip's Mascot
Is finding a huge snapping turtle under your car a good sign at the beginning of a long trip?
Wednesday, June 1, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Saturated
I don't know what happened, but I woke up this morning feeling done, supersaturated with this place. I woke up and wanted to get into my car and drive off, NYC permanently in my rearview mirror. It's not a bad feeling though. This urge used to be driven by a need to escape, a need to run away. But not this time. Now, its more a feeling of completeness, a feeling that I have accomplished all that I needed to do. All that remains are a few goodbyes, the goodbyes that will be the hardest. If you had asked me a few months ago whether or not it would be difficult to part ways with anyone here and I would have laughed in your face and begged for the opportunity. If you know me, you know I'm not emotional or sentimental in the least. But I can feel it coming. It's going to be hard. But it has to be done.
Everyone hopes that things can stay on pause, that I will come back at some point and nothing will have change. But it will, in fact, it already has. As soon as the decision to move gelled, everything changed. It's easy to pretend that it didn't, but the fact that I am about leave set up residency somewhere in a corner of everyone's subconscious. I just hope we can all enjoy our last few days together...
I'm sorry if this seems a bit melancholy, but melancholy is how I'm feeling...
Everyone hopes that things can stay on pause, that I will come back at some point and nothing will have change. But it will, in fact, it already has. As soon as the decision to move gelled, everything changed. It's easy to pretend that it didn't, but the fact that I am about leave set up residency somewhere in a corner of everyone's subconscious. I just hope we can all enjoy our last few days together...
I'm sorry if this seems a bit melancholy, but melancholy is how I'm feeling...
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
My NYC Top 10
I decided to put together a Top 10 list of my nights in NYC. I know I left a bunch out, so submission will be greatly appreciated! With no further ado:
1) G’s 25th Birthday: CT + Boathouse + Brother Jimmy’s + Sushi + 212 + Near Car Crash + Pelham Bay Park + Scarsdale = Possibly the craziest day ever. (Me, G, PC)
2) The 5 Bottle of Shiraz day at Patsy’s where G and I blacked out and came to on the train to Fairfield. Add in a day lounging on the Sound and supersized Margaritas the next day and we have number 2. (Me, G)
3) Red Sox/Yankees Game 7, 2004: Almost everything and everyone currently in my life traces back to this night, seriously. (Me, The Rocket Scientists, and introducing the Scarsdale girls, etc.)
4) Stacy’s 24th Birthday: I was having so much fun, I was actually dancing, ‘nuff said. (Me, SR, SS, Gianina, etc)
5) Kenny’s Visit: Coincided with G’s reemergence. Began at Thom Bar, mix in the the only 3 white guys at Joe’s Pub, a little Pangaea, and KG throwing up in his water glass at Coffee Shop. Not to mention all of us passing out on the train and waking up in Coney Island to a Police Officer prodding us. (Me, KG, G)
6) The Christmas Party at Mad River: began with open bar, ended with me dancing on the bar. (Me, AK, The Tank, Meg)
7) The Stretch Hummer: the training crew from NYSC getting trashed in a stretch H2 ending up with 3 bottles at Show. The best part is the ending: Some random (white) dude from South Africa screaming at my (white) friend for being a racist and kicking him in the face… you can’t make this stuff up (Me, Eddy-O, M, etc)
8) My third (and only sober) bartending experience: manning the upstairs bar was the best move ever. I met so many people that night. (Me, the Rocket Scientists, EMC, etc)
9) CRD’s visit: the one and only time CRD stayed with me in NYC was worth it. We burned down the UES. (Me, CRD, KR, etc)
10) My second to last week in NYC, to the select few who know me, you know what I’m talking about :)
1) G’s 25th Birthday: CT + Boathouse + Brother Jimmy’s + Sushi + 212 + Near Car Crash + Pelham Bay Park + Scarsdale = Possibly the craziest day ever. (Me, G, PC)
2) The 5 Bottle of Shiraz day at Patsy’s where G and I blacked out and came to on the train to Fairfield. Add in a day lounging on the Sound and supersized Margaritas the next day and we have number 2. (Me, G)
3) Red Sox/Yankees Game 7, 2004: Almost everything and everyone currently in my life traces back to this night, seriously. (Me, The Rocket Scientists, and introducing the Scarsdale girls, etc.)
4) Stacy’s 24th Birthday: I was having so much fun, I was actually dancing, ‘nuff said. (Me, SR, SS, Gianina, etc)
5) Kenny’s Visit: Coincided with G’s reemergence. Began at Thom Bar, mix in the the only 3 white guys at Joe’s Pub, a little Pangaea, and KG throwing up in his water glass at Coffee Shop. Not to mention all of us passing out on the train and waking up in Coney Island to a Police Officer prodding us. (Me, KG, G)
6) The Christmas Party at Mad River: began with open bar, ended with me dancing on the bar. (Me, AK, The Tank, Meg)
7) The Stretch Hummer: the training crew from NYSC getting trashed in a stretch H2 ending up with 3 bottles at Show. The best part is the ending: Some random (white) dude from South Africa screaming at my (white) friend for being a racist and kicking him in the face… you can’t make this stuff up (Me, Eddy-O, M, etc)
8) My third (and only sober) bartending experience: manning the upstairs bar was the best move ever. I met so many people that night. (Me, the Rocket Scientists, EMC, etc)
9) CRD’s visit: the one and only time CRD stayed with me in NYC was worth it. We burned down the UES. (Me, CRD, KR, etc)
10) My second to last week in NYC, to the select few who know me, you know what I’m talking about :)
Highly Anticipated
I apologize for the week delay in postings, but this move has taken over my life. Not the physical move, but the farewells. I feel so compressed, so rushed right now. There are so many people that I want to spend time with and give an adequate goodbye, but I know there will be some that just won't happen. I hope people can understand, if this happens to them, that they will be missed. But I also hope everyone understands that my full attention is impossible right now.
For the next week, I will be a scatterbrained mess. I will forget plans. I will be spread too thin. These reasons are why coming to my bartending tonight is so important. I am guaranteed to be there from 6 to Midnight. Everyone there is assured to have my full attention. So PLEASE come by and have fun.
...
As I enter my final week, I find myself wondering exactly what I will think of when I look back at my time here in New York. Will it be the horrible living locales (Bensonhurst and Harlem for those who haven't heard me complain incessently about the commutes)? Will it be the drunken adventures with G, Lexx, KG, CRD, M? Will it be the many retail jobs I had with the long hours/low pay/menial tasks? Will it be the many relationships that fizzled out before they even had a chance to begin? Or am I still focusing on the negative here...
I hope that when I find myself thinking about NYC, I focus on running in Central Park. Lazy Sundays, wandering the city, coffee in hand. Sitting in Union Square reading. Finding new restaurants and bars. But most of all, meeting new people every time I go out. NYC is full of one night friends: guys and girls you meet at a bar and spend an hour or two talking about nothing in particular, then never see again. If you've never experienced this, move here and you'll see. Nine times out of ten, its nothing, but that one person can make you realize that life/humanity isn't all bad. And that's a good feeling.
...
If anyone has any pictures or posts you'd like me to put up, send them my way. I'd be glad to put them up for you :)
For the next week, I will be a scatterbrained mess. I will forget plans. I will be spread too thin. These reasons are why coming to my bartending tonight is so important. I am guaranteed to be there from 6 to Midnight. Everyone there is assured to have my full attention. So PLEASE come by and have fun.
...
As I enter my final week, I find myself wondering exactly what I will think of when I look back at my time here in New York. Will it be the horrible living locales (Bensonhurst and Harlem for those who haven't heard me complain incessently about the commutes)? Will it be the drunken adventures with G, Lexx, KG, CRD, M? Will it be the many retail jobs I had with the long hours/low pay/menial tasks? Will it be the many relationships that fizzled out before they even had a chance to begin? Or am I still focusing on the negative here...
I hope that when I find myself thinking about NYC, I focus on running in Central Park. Lazy Sundays, wandering the city, coffee in hand. Sitting in Union Square reading. Finding new restaurants and bars. But most of all, meeting new people every time I go out. NYC is full of one night friends: guys and girls you meet at a bar and spend an hour or two talking about nothing in particular, then never see again. If you've never experienced this, move here and you'll see. Nine times out of ten, its nothing, but that one person can make you realize that life/humanity isn't all bad. And that's a good feeling.
...
If anyone has any pictures or posts you'd like me to put up, send them my way. I'd be glad to put them up for you :)
Monday, May 16, 2005
The Home Stretch
It's mid-May already: you blink and a week, a month, half a year, has gone by. The day you've been looking forward to before you even knew that day was coming is almost here. You can feel the electricity and excitement in even the smallest tasks. The morning alarm is welcomed and the 5 o'clock bell is celebrated. Everything just feels more alive, more real.
Two more weeks and another chapter of my life will be closed. Closed, but not forgotten. I know it will be awhile before I will be able look back on my time here in New York with total objectivity. I know that when I finally make my way back to the City, no one here will even recognize me, or at least not my personality. People here know me as a caustic pessimist and chronic complainer, but that isn't me. That's the city stifling me. That's the city never failing to show me the seedy underbelly of humanity. That's the city rotting me from the inside out. But not for much longer.
Now, when I see the trash blowing along the street outside of my apartment or the uneducated youth destined to be confined to a life of poverty during my subway commutes, it doesn't affect me. I can now realize that these are only temporary distractions. I can see past them. I can see myself thousands of miles away with a permanent smile. I can feel the real Tim forcing his way out. It's only a matter of rapidly disappearing time.
Two more weeks and another chapter of my life will be closed. Closed, but not forgotten. I know it will be awhile before I will be able look back on my time here in New York with total objectivity. I know that when I finally make my way back to the City, no one here will even recognize me, or at least not my personality. People here know me as a caustic pessimist and chronic complainer, but that isn't me. That's the city stifling me. That's the city never failing to show me the seedy underbelly of humanity. That's the city rotting me from the inside out. But not for much longer.
Now, when I see the trash blowing along the street outside of my apartment or the uneducated youth destined to be confined to a life of poverty during my subway commutes, it doesn't affect me. I can now realize that these are only temporary distractions. I can see past them. I can see myself thousands of miles away with a permanent smile. I can feel the real Tim forcing his way out. It's only a matter of rapidly disappearing time.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Redemption
For all of you who missed my last bartending extravaganza, it would seem that you have a chance to redeem yourself. I just found out that I will be bartending again on Tuesday May 24th from 6 to Midnight. Click the link in the right column to get the details for the Town Tavern.
And for those who don't realize it, the 24th is exactly one week before I leave NYC... So come send me off!
And for those who don't realize it, the 24th is exactly one week before I leave NYC... So come send me off!
Thursday, May 5, 2005
Last Night
I'd like to thank everyone who came out last night to the Town Tavern to celebrate my final bartending gig. To all who went, you know what a blast it was and has been. Anyone who was invited and had no excuse not to be there, piss off. You very well may be part of the reason I am leaving New York. So thanks for bolstering my decision!
Tuesday, May 3, 2005
Selfish? I Don't Think So
Something is bothering me this morning. Well, something is always bothering me in the mornings, but today is worst then most. Why do so many people do things to please others when it is themselves they should be pleasing? When will people realize that, sometimes, it's more important to think about ones own happiness over the happiness of others around them. If there is something that I want to do, something that I feel would make me happy, I am going to do it. I don't care if it could make someone else feel bad or depressed.
For example: say two people are good friends but have a falling out. During their friendship, however, one of the friends became friends with the others roommate. Now, after said fallingout, if the roommate and the ex-friend wants to hang out, they should do it. If the roommates are truly friends, this shouldn't be a problem. They should want each other to be happy. They should be mature enough to deal with the fact that friends come and go, that situations change. They shouldn't selfishly demand that the ex-friend is suddenly persona non grata. But then again, this selfish attitude may be the very reason the friendship dissolved in the first place.
Everyone is too concerned with how people will judge their actions. I say fuck everyone and their (mostly ridiculous and ignorant) opinions. Do what makes you happy. I honestly believe that if you live by this tenet, you will end up surrounding yourself with a few loyal friends who will love you for you, not for how others judge your actions. That is total freedom: to be able to totally let go, be spontaneous, and not worry if your actions may hurt your "friends," because you know, deep down, there is nothing you can do to make your friends love you any less.
For example: say two people are good friends but have a falling out. During their friendship, however, one of the friends became friends with the others roommate. Now, after said fallingout, if the roommate and the ex-friend wants to hang out, they should do it. If the roommates are truly friends, this shouldn't be a problem. They should want each other to be happy. They should be mature enough to deal with the fact that friends come and go, that situations change. They shouldn't selfishly demand that the ex-friend is suddenly persona non grata. But then again, this selfish attitude may be the very reason the friendship dissolved in the first place.
Everyone is too concerned with how people will judge their actions. I say fuck everyone and their (mostly ridiculous and ignorant) opinions. Do what makes you happy. I honestly believe that if you live by this tenet, you will end up surrounding yourself with a few loyal friends who will love you for you, not for how others judge your actions. That is total freedom: to be able to totally let go, be spontaneous, and not worry if your actions may hurt your "friends," because you know, deep down, there is nothing you can do to make your friends love you any less.
Monday, May 2, 2005
The Ones We Can Count On
Over the weekend, I found myself listening Maybe Roses, a CD by my good friend Alexander O'neill. When I came to the end of the CD, I was floored by three tracks that I had forgotten even existed. These final three tracks were live recordings from my birthday in 2002. Three tracks that Alex decided to play, spur of the moment, and record for posterity as a birthday gift.
The first track opens with Alex saying "You're going to remember this for the rest of your life." At the time, I couldn't have agreed more. But how, only 3 years later, could I have totally forgotten this experience. How does something you consider to be impossibly memorable completely disappear from your consciousness? After listening to the songs, the night came back to me, but why did it take this catalyst for me to remember it? It was my 21st birthday, the one that is supposed to change everything and be remembered for the rest of your life. Now, it's not even a blip on the memory radar.
Alex skipped his classes that afternoon because I asked him to celebrate my birthday. He was the only one. Everyone else waited until it was convenient for them. (I am also forever in debt for my roommate, CRD, for taking me out at midnight and buying my first legal beer, don't think I forgot about that Chris). This kind of loyalty is rare, or at least it has been for me. It is because of this that loyalty is what I value above all else.
For the people I consider to be my true friends, I would lie down in traffic for them. I would drop every and anything if they needed me to. The moment I realize that a person would not do this for me, I close myself off. It doesnt matter how long I have known the person, I just don't see the point of keeping someone in my life that may, at one point somewhere down the road, betray me. This may be an unreasonable fear and a bit idealistic. But when it comes to friendship, idealistic is how it should be. This attitude is the reason why so many people don't last very long in my social circle. But as for those who have been there for long enough (G, CRD, Lexx O, Birbs), I'm sure they'll agree with me that this is how a friendship should be.
The first track opens with Alex saying "You're going to remember this for the rest of your life." At the time, I couldn't have agreed more. But how, only 3 years later, could I have totally forgotten this experience. How does something you consider to be impossibly memorable completely disappear from your consciousness? After listening to the songs, the night came back to me, but why did it take this catalyst for me to remember it? It was my 21st birthday, the one that is supposed to change everything and be remembered for the rest of your life. Now, it's not even a blip on the memory radar.
Alex skipped his classes that afternoon because I asked him to celebrate my birthday. He was the only one. Everyone else waited until it was convenient for them. (I am also forever in debt for my roommate, CRD, for taking me out at midnight and buying my first legal beer, don't think I forgot about that Chris). This kind of loyalty is rare, or at least it has been for me. It is because of this that loyalty is what I value above all else.
For the people I consider to be my true friends, I would lie down in traffic for them. I would drop every and anything if they needed me to. The moment I realize that a person would not do this for me, I close myself off. It doesnt matter how long I have known the person, I just don't see the point of keeping someone in my life that may, at one point somewhere down the road, betray me. This may be an unreasonable fear and a bit idealistic. But when it comes to friendship, idealistic is how it should be. This attitude is the reason why so many people don't last very long in my social circle. But as for those who have been there for long enough (G, CRD, Lexx O, Birbs), I'm sure they'll agree with me that this is how a friendship should be.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Sidebar
If someone's said it best, steal it and use it as your own...
"That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can."
"I know I'm too much for anyone , that if I let myself, I'd love them all, I'd think they could fix me. But I know they can't, and it's enough, because every so often when a girl kisses me, touches my hand, my face, I remember that the world has light"
Bonus points if you can tell me who said them
Back to the original thoughts soon, very soon.
"That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can."
"I know I'm too much for anyone , that if I let myself, I'd love them all, I'd think they could fix me. But I know they can't, and it's enough, because every so often when a girl kisses me, touches my hand, my face, I remember that the world has light"
Bonus points if you can tell me who said them
Back to the original thoughts soon, very soon.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Just another night
Why is it that it takes me uprooting my entire existance for me to start enjoying New York? Why couldn't the happiness that I now feel every morning have come sooner? It's probably just be the giddiness of anticipation spilling over into the present, but I'll take whatever I can get.
Last night, was a rare event. The dynamic duo hit the NYC nightlife. Mad World and Old Man reunited to celebrate the randomness of a Wednesday night binge. The night started out as it usually does. A pitcher here, a pitcher there. Random conversation A, random conversation B. At some point, it was decided to visit one of Old Man's previous haunts, a little Italian restaurant in the West Village that we hadn't visted in almost a year. Going there made me realize just how much time I have wasted in this god-forsaken city. In discussing how we had changed over this period, I realized that I couldn't pinpoint a single memorable event that had happened since our last visit. It was depressing to realize that, just as this restaurant persists in its static state, I hadn't grown as a person in a year. A year... that's a little over 4% of my life. How can a person live like that?
Hopefully, a few years down the road, I will look back at my cubicle "experiment" and laugh. Laugh that I voluntarily chose to convert to a sedentary lifestyle. Laugh that I subjected myself to 40 hours a week of florescent lighting for 9 months of my life. Laugh that it took me so long to make a change.
When I told my friend Amy that I was about to move cross country, she just laughed at me. She called me a nomad...and she would know, she spent a semester abroad living in a tent in Mongolia... It's true. If I stay in a place for more than a year, I start going crazy. Literally. Any anyone who hung out with me at my one year mark in NYC can vouch for this.
I don't think I will ever understand how people can live in the same town for their entire life. How can people not want to explore, to break out of their boring routine. But then again, I do hate about 95% of the general population, so I guess it makes sense.
Last night, was a rare event. The dynamic duo hit the NYC nightlife. Mad World and Old Man reunited to celebrate the randomness of a Wednesday night binge. The night started out as it usually does. A pitcher here, a pitcher there. Random conversation A, random conversation B. At some point, it was decided to visit one of Old Man's previous haunts, a little Italian restaurant in the West Village that we hadn't visted in almost a year. Going there made me realize just how much time I have wasted in this god-forsaken city. In discussing how we had changed over this period, I realized that I couldn't pinpoint a single memorable event that had happened since our last visit. It was depressing to realize that, just as this restaurant persists in its static state, I hadn't grown as a person in a year. A year... that's a little over 4% of my life. How can a person live like that?
Hopefully, a few years down the road, I will look back at my cubicle "experiment" and laugh. Laugh that I voluntarily chose to convert to a sedentary lifestyle. Laugh that I subjected myself to 40 hours a week of florescent lighting for 9 months of my life. Laugh that it took me so long to make a change.
When I told my friend Amy that I was about to move cross country, she just laughed at me. She called me a nomad...and she would know, she spent a semester abroad living in a tent in Mongolia... It's true. If I stay in a place for more than a year, I start going crazy. Literally. Any anyone who hung out with me at my one year mark in NYC can vouch for this.
I don't think I will ever understand how people can live in the same town for their entire life. How can people not want to explore, to break out of their boring routine. But then again, I do hate about 95% of the general population, so I guess it makes sense.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
On a lighter note
I know I usually dedicate this space to tearful confessions that may one day land me in a mental institution, but let me stray for just a moment
This is from an article on ESPN's Page 2:
"Boston Red Sox: The Red Sox are the greatest franchise in the history of sports. I have nothing negative to say about a team headed to its second straight World Series title. I'm glad they're finally getting some national exposure after all these years.
New York Yankees: Baseball Prospectus keeps track of a statistic called "Defensive Efficiency," which is simply the percentage of batted balls in play that each team turns into outs. The top team through Sunday was the Marlins, who turn 74.75 percent of balls in play into outs. The league averages are 69.3 percent in the AL, 69.8 percent in the NL. No team is below 66.8 percent ... except the Yankees, who have turned just 63.87 percent of balls in play into outs. The Prospectus Web site lists this statistic back to 1972, and the worst team in that span has been the 1999 Devil Rays, at 66.17 percent. In other words, the 2005 Yankees are looking like a historically awful defensive team, one of the worst of all time. And that, Yankee fans, is why your team will miss the playoffs."
I love that website.
This is from an article on ESPN's Page 2:
"Boston Red Sox: The Red Sox are the greatest franchise in the history of sports. I have nothing negative to say about a team headed to its second straight World Series title. I'm glad they're finally getting some national exposure after all these years.
New York Yankees: Baseball Prospectus keeps track of a statistic called "Defensive Efficiency," which is simply the percentage of batted balls in play that each team turns into outs. The top team through Sunday was the Marlins, who turn 74.75 percent of balls in play into outs. The league averages are 69.3 percent in the AL, 69.8 percent in the NL. No team is below 66.8 percent ... except the Yankees, who have turned just 63.87 percent of balls in play into outs. The Prospectus Web site lists this statistic back to 1972, and the worst team in that span has been the 1999 Devil Rays, at 66.17 percent. In other words, the 2005 Yankees are looking like a historically awful defensive team, one of the worst of all time. And that, Yankee fans, is why your team will miss the playoffs."
I love that website.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
One Last Time
I am thinking about throwing some sort of going away shindig before G and I disappear from the East Coast. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I'm welcome to them.
As of now, I am think about the second to last weekend in May, aka May 21st and 22nd, but that isn't set in stone. As far as I'm concerned, it can be every weekend (or weekday for that matter) from now until June 1.
Make me realize what I will be missing by leaving...
Just don't think for one second that my resolve can be swayed.
As of now, I am think about the second to last weekend in May, aka May 21st and 22nd, but that isn't set in stone. As far as I'm concerned, it can be every weekend (or weekday for that matter) from now until June 1.
Make me realize what I will be missing by leaving...
Just don't think for one second that my resolve can be swayed.
Monday, April 25, 2005
The Cusp of Happiness
I’ve found that my mood, more often than not, is intimately connected to music and my musical preferences. Lately I’ve found myself immersed in it. I crave new music, new sounds. Anything new. It’s mimicking my life right now. New, change is what I’m thriving on.
Last night, I was lying in my bed, unable to fall asleep. I found myself panicking over my uncertain future. Where will I be living after June first? What will I do for a job? Do I even care? I fell asleep realizing, that, no, I didn’t care. I just want out. And out is what I’m about to have. Out, completely. I will be away from just about everyone and everything that I have ever surrounded myself with. And when I think about this, I am not scared, I do not feel like I will be alone. Much to the contrary. I feel I will finally be able to be myself. No more of this life. I can start over. And it feels great.
Several times a day, I realize that soon I will be thousands of miles away from the ordinary. From this shithole life I’ve managed to build for myself here. And that’s a glorious thought. When it happens, a smile creeps across my lips. It’s an odd feeling, this smile. It has been far too long since I’ve found myself smiling for no reason. All I know is that I like it. I like it a lot.
Coupled with this realization, comes the spring like an explosion. One week its totally miserable, grey. The outside matching my inside. Then, here comes the sun. What is it about sunny days that make life more manageable? I stand outside of my daily prison and suddenly it's all okay. I feel the sun warming my shoes, my feet. I feel this warmth as I go back into the building and up to my cubicle. The happiness lingers like this feeling. Trailing me back to my routine. Pulling me away. Telling me to leave it all behind. And soon I will.
Its April 11th 2005, the year is flying. But I welcome this. I dare the time to pass even faster. I dare June 1st to come. I dare the world to try to keep me here. I’m already gone. Everyday, I mail in my daily performance. But no one notices. People tell me that they are sad to see me go, that I shouldn’t do it. How selfish. It’s this very attitude that I am running away from. If they think I will get to LA and fail, running back to the east with my tail between my legs. They are mistaken. Gravely mistaken. If only they knew the real Tim. The Tim that is happy for no reason. The Tim that follows the motto “everyday should be a good day to die.” I used to believe this. Not only believe this, but embrace it. Everyday began with a promise and ended fulfilled. I was happy. I want that back. I know I can have it. Its right outside my grasp, begging me to play with it. I won’t disappoint.
But what will I do once I get out there? Should I confine myself to another cage, toiling away at another job that stifles and slowly kills me? Or should I risk it all and have fun. Make no money and save nothing. I could go for that right about now. What do I do now? I collect my inflated paycheck every other Friday and waste it. Waste it on shitty times. I drink it away to forget that I am miserable. I tell myself that everyone goes out and drinks, that its normal. But is it? Or is everyone begging to forget their problems, their mistakes as well? I think they are. Only they won’t admit it or do anything about it. Well I will. Fuck them all. I see they are dying inside just like me. At least I have the courage to admit it to myself. And that makes me stronger. I know this and its reassuring. Why don’t they see how miserable they really are? Man wasn’t meant to sit in a chair and work on a computer all day everyday. We are instinctually hunter/gatherers. We need to move back to that as a society. I honestly believe that. I’m tired of seeing people getting fatter and dumber by the day. It disgusts me. I get physically ill when I see it. I may sound like a stuck up prick, but I’m sorry. It’s the truth. Someone needs to tell these people to wake the fuck up. Do something. Read. Better yourself. Anything. But they never will. So fuck them. Time for some Darwinism.
But I’m getting away from my purpose of this little rant. I want to say that I think I am finally on the cusp of happiness. I know that one day, I will wake up, the sun will be shining on me and I will have a smile on my face. For no reason at all. And I can’t wait…
Last night, I was lying in my bed, unable to fall asleep. I found myself panicking over my uncertain future. Where will I be living after June first? What will I do for a job? Do I even care? I fell asleep realizing, that, no, I didn’t care. I just want out. And out is what I’m about to have. Out, completely. I will be away from just about everyone and everything that I have ever surrounded myself with. And when I think about this, I am not scared, I do not feel like I will be alone. Much to the contrary. I feel I will finally be able to be myself. No more of this life. I can start over. And it feels great.
Several times a day, I realize that soon I will be thousands of miles away from the ordinary. From this shithole life I’ve managed to build for myself here. And that’s a glorious thought. When it happens, a smile creeps across my lips. It’s an odd feeling, this smile. It has been far too long since I’ve found myself smiling for no reason. All I know is that I like it. I like it a lot.
Coupled with this realization, comes the spring like an explosion. One week its totally miserable, grey. The outside matching my inside. Then, here comes the sun. What is it about sunny days that make life more manageable? I stand outside of my daily prison and suddenly it's all okay. I feel the sun warming my shoes, my feet. I feel this warmth as I go back into the building and up to my cubicle. The happiness lingers like this feeling. Trailing me back to my routine. Pulling me away. Telling me to leave it all behind. And soon I will.
Its April 11th 2005, the year is flying. But I welcome this. I dare the time to pass even faster. I dare June 1st to come. I dare the world to try to keep me here. I’m already gone. Everyday, I mail in my daily performance. But no one notices. People tell me that they are sad to see me go, that I shouldn’t do it. How selfish. It’s this very attitude that I am running away from. If they think I will get to LA and fail, running back to the east with my tail between my legs. They are mistaken. Gravely mistaken. If only they knew the real Tim. The Tim that is happy for no reason. The Tim that follows the motto “everyday should be a good day to die.” I used to believe this. Not only believe this, but embrace it. Everyday began with a promise and ended fulfilled. I was happy. I want that back. I know I can have it. Its right outside my grasp, begging me to play with it. I won’t disappoint.
But what will I do once I get out there? Should I confine myself to another cage, toiling away at another job that stifles and slowly kills me? Or should I risk it all and have fun. Make no money and save nothing. I could go for that right about now. What do I do now? I collect my inflated paycheck every other Friday and waste it. Waste it on shitty times. I drink it away to forget that I am miserable. I tell myself that everyone goes out and drinks, that its normal. But is it? Or is everyone begging to forget their problems, their mistakes as well? I think they are. Only they won’t admit it or do anything about it. Well I will. Fuck them all. I see they are dying inside just like me. At least I have the courage to admit it to myself. And that makes me stronger. I know this and its reassuring. Why don’t they see how miserable they really are? Man wasn’t meant to sit in a chair and work on a computer all day everyday. We are instinctually hunter/gatherers. We need to move back to that as a society. I honestly believe that. I’m tired of seeing people getting fatter and dumber by the day. It disgusts me. I get physically ill when I see it. I may sound like a stuck up prick, but I’m sorry. It’s the truth. Someone needs to tell these people to wake the fuck up. Do something. Read. Better yourself. Anything. But they never will. So fuck them. Time for some Darwinism.
But I’m getting away from my purpose of this little rant. I want to say that I think I am finally on the cusp of happiness. I know that one day, I will wake up, the sun will be shining on me and I will have a smile on my face. For no reason at all. And I can’t wait…
Before the family vacation
A country away and still my mind is in New York… what am I missing? Are people having fun? Fun with out me? Realizing that they don’t need me around to have fun? In reality, that should be the furthest thing from my mind. I am flying over the pacific, for the first time in my life I may add, on my way to Hawaii. A week in Hawaii. I should be excited, but why is it that my mind is elsewhere? Why do I always wish I were somewhere else, doing something different?
I really wish I could go to erin’s birthday party. It’d just be good to see her again. It’s been so long. Since my last birthday. Eleven months. It’s scary to think that. Where have the past 11 months gone? Gone and nothing jumps to mind that I’ve done in that time span. I’ve gotten a job, moved, but I haven’t grown as a person. In fact, I feel I’ve regressed a bit to the college mentality. Now that I’m living in Manhattan, bringing woman home is now an option. It makes me feel so hollow inside. Somedays, I truly believe that I am an emotional shell. Will I get them back if I meet the right girl? I can only hope.
I doubt it. I doubt everything.
Who knows? Whats done is done and can’t be changed now. That’s the sad part of life. Nothing can be undone. Nothing.
There are some theories that hell is our lives gone wrong. That every choice made is the wrong one. Every outcome the worst possible. Would we be able to differentiate this from our actual lives? Or would we think that maybe, some day, things will turn around for us. But they never will. Thus is hell.
Other theories say that we are destined to relive our lives over and over again. That this is reincarnation. Only we are unable to change anything we ever did. Every mistake made is redone, every disaster repeated ad infinitum. Comforting.
It should be noted, though, that I don’t believe in heaven, hell, or reincarnation.
Wouldn’t that take the meaning out of life? Which, in my opinion, is to use the time you have to the fullest extent possible. If there was something afterwards, why bother trying to accomplish all your hopes and dreams? No, I’d rather believe that this is it. If you waste it, it’s your loss. Not that I live by this tenet. If I did, there’s no way anyone would be able to convince me to sit in a cubicle for eight hours a day.
That’s for damn sure.
I really wish I could go to erin’s birthday party. It’d just be good to see her again. It’s been so long. Since my last birthday. Eleven months. It’s scary to think that. Where have the past 11 months gone? Gone and nothing jumps to mind that I’ve done in that time span. I’ve gotten a job, moved, but I haven’t grown as a person. In fact, I feel I’ve regressed a bit to the college mentality. Now that I’m living in Manhattan, bringing woman home is now an option. It makes me feel so hollow inside. Somedays, I truly believe that I am an emotional shell. Will I get them back if I meet the right girl? I can only hope.
I doubt it. I doubt everything.
Who knows? Whats done is done and can’t be changed now. That’s the sad part of life. Nothing can be undone. Nothing.
There are some theories that hell is our lives gone wrong. That every choice made is the wrong one. Every outcome the worst possible. Would we be able to differentiate this from our actual lives? Or would we think that maybe, some day, things will turn around for us. But they never will. Thus is hell.
Other theories say that we are destined to relive our lives over and over again. That this is reincarnation. Only we are unable to change anything we ever did. Every mistake made is redone, every disaster repeated ad infinitum. Comforting.
It should be noted, though, that I don’t believe in heaven, hell, or reincarnation.
Wouldn’t that take the meaning out of life? Which, in my opinion, is to use the time you have to the fullest extent possible. If there was something afterwards, why bother trying to accomplish all your hopes and dreams? No, I’d rather believe that this is it. If you waste it, it’s your loss. Not that I live by this tenet. If I did, there’s no way anyone would be able to convince me to sit in a cubicle for eight hours a day.
That’s for damn sure.
The end of a family vacation...
And that’s it. The vacation is over. I’m at thirty thousand feet again, or however high airplanes fly. The trip ended significantly better than it started, but I still wouldn’t call it a worthwhile vacation. I think its just because I’m used to being alone. I think I would have found this trip much more relaxing and fulfilling had it just been me. So many potentially perfect moments were spoiled by conversation. Granted, I had some memorable moments, but they were few and far between...
Like on the dark sands beach when I wandered off alone. I could tell that my sister just wanted to climb back up the cliffs and get going, but my Mom let me wander around, take my time. Everything was so quiet and peaceful. It was perfect. I wish I could have sat there for hours, just admiring the beauty around me.
But then I had to return to the complaints and annoyances that are my sister. What a contrast. Thank god for the hundreds of miles that separate us and our daily lives. Not that I don’t love my sister.
I just need my space.
Like on the dark sands beach when I wandered off alone. I could tell that my sister just wanted to climb back up the cliffs and get going, but my Mom let me wander around, take my time. Everything was so quiet and peaceful. It was perfect. I wish I could have sat there for hours, just admiring the beauty around me.
But then I had to return to the complaints and annoyances that are my sister. What a contrast. Thank god for the hundreds of miles that separate us and our daily lives. Not that I don’t love my sister.
I just need my space.
A 24 Year Old Child
Think happy thoughts; think about anything other than the norm. Clear the cobwebs and let the inner child speak freely…I don’t think he wants out. I think he’s happy locked in his windowless room. Happy wearing out the carpet in an ever-perfect circle of incessant pacing, muttering to himself about nothing in particular. But don’t disturb him, it may be the last thing you do…
Once he takes over, I cease to exist. The Tim you see is no longer me. I get shoved to an afterthought. I become cold and distant and won’t look anyone in the eyes. The fragility amazes me. That is when people should worry, when I’m not talking it’s for a very good reason. The smallest problem will set me off. And you don’t want to see me angry. I’m vindictive and just plain mean. At that point, violence is never far off…
Once he takes over, I cease to exist. The Tim you see is no longer me. I get shoved to an afterthought. I become cold and distant and won’t look anyone in the eyes. The fragility amazes me. That is when people should worry, when I’m not talking it’s for a very good reason. The smallest problem will set me off. And you don’t want to see me angry. I’m vindictive and just plain mean. At that point, violence is never far off…
Question and Answer
So Tim, how have things changed for you since you decided to grow up, decided to move on past the immaturity and become a contributing member of adult society? Do you feel your life has gained meaning? Do you cherish the job security and health insurance that comes with the nine-to-five life?
Well, let me see. How many ways are there to say “No”? How can I show you how hollow my life feels? I feel like a parenthetical expression with nothing to add. I could lie, I could pretend to enjoy sitting in my working class cage. Pretend to enjoy filling my days with the same self-referencing loop of menial paperwork and empty tasks. Get up, shower, 4/5 train to Brooklyn bridge, coffee, cubicle, lunch, cubicle, gym, 4/5 train to 125th, bed. Add in the more-often-than-not drinking binge and you have my life in 10 easy steps. Lest I forget to mention the most exciting part of the day: ripping of the previous day’s Dilbert to reveal the day’s pearl of nine-to-five parody. What has my life become?
Come, wake me from my stupor. Grab me by the shoulders and shake until I collapse, until I remember what it feels like to be alive. Until I remember what it is to desire something better. Until I remember that I once had motivation. I’ll be damned if this is how it will end…
Well, let me see. How many ways are there to say “No”? How can I show you how hollow my life feels? I feel like a parenthetical expression with nothing to add. I could lie, I could pretend to enjoy sitting in my working class cage. Pretend to enjoy filling my days with the same self-referencing loop of menial paperwork and empty tasks. Get up, shower, 4/5 train to Brooklyn bridge, coffee, cubicle, lunch, cubicle, gym, 4/5 train to 125th, bed. Add in the more-often-than-not drinking binge and you have my life in 10 easy steps. Lest I forget to mention the most exciting part of the day: ripping of the previous day’s Dilbert to reveal the day’s pearl of nine-to-five parody. What has my life become?
Come, wake me from my stupor. Grab me by the shoulders and shake until I collapse, until I remember what it feels like to be alive. Until I remember what it is to desire something better. Until I remember that I once had motivation. I’ll be damned if this is how it will end…
Boom...
I feel it coming, the mid-twenties crisis. I sense it gathering momentum like a bowling ball dropped from thirty thousand feet. I know one morning I’m going to wake up and be unable to look myself in the eyes, and not just because the mirrors in my shitty apartment stop at the middle of my neck.
Here I am: twenty-three, almost one year removed from college, and I have managed to regress back to the job of a kid who just retrieved his GED from the decorative mailbox adorning his parents’ front lawn. Here I am: a magna cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa, mathematics and physics major, making seven dollars an hour, working with people who, odds are, don’t even know how to spell college. Here I am: a failure to myself and everyone around me.
Let me be the first to say it, “I am underachieving everyone’s hopes for me. I need to find a ‘real’ job. I need to grow up.” There, it has been said. Now, never repeat this to me. The last thing someone who knows they are failing life (I wish life’s grade was curved, god knows its bell curve is shifted a tad towards the low end) is to be told that they are failing. Even worse than this is when some tries to delicately skirt the issue and drop little innuendos such as, “Speaking of ____, have you considered…”, these never end well. “Ohhhhh, so you think that I should be doing more with my life? You know what, I never considered that! Thanks for pointing it out. While we’re pointing things out, you may want to step outside of my reach because I’m about to punch you in the face.” And so on and so forth.
Something just struck me and I can’t help but point out the dramatic irony which is simply too good to be kept as such. I am writing these very words while perched on my high-school bed surrounded by my high school belongings and my high school life. That’s right, I’m at my parents house (and by parents I mean mother and step-father, but I am a child of the nineties so that goes without saying). How did I get here? In a car my mom pays for that’s covered by an insurance policy that my mom pays for and with a gas tank freshly topped off using a credit card that, that’s right you guessed it, my mom pays for. How many strikes do you get before you’re out? Well I guess that makes it 749 consecutive innings without a hit, walk, error, fielder’s choice, foul-out, or hit-by-pitch for the home team. You can do the math if you feel like it, but take it from a math major, that’s a hell of a lot of K’s.
…Now that the contestant has chosen door number one, let’s see what’s behind door number two: a high paying job, beautiful girlfriend, and a future brighter than a 10 kiloton nuclear explosion. Too bad all that was behind door number one was the aftermath of said blast.
Here I am: twenty-three, almost one year removed from college, and I have managed to regress back to the job of a kid who just retrieved his GED from the decorative mailbox adorning his parents’ front lawn. Here I am: a magna cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa, mathematics and physics major, making seven dollars an hour, working with people who, odds are, don’t even know how to spell college. Here I am: a failure to myself and everyone around me.
Let me be the first to say it, “I am underachieving everyone’s hopes for me. I need to find a ‘real’ job. I need to grow up.” There, it has been said. Now, never repeat this to me. The last thing someone who knows they are failing life (I wish life’s grade was curved, god knows its bell curve is shifted a tad towards the low end) is to be told that they are failing. Even worse than this is when some tries to delicately skirt the issue and drop little innuendos such as, “Speaking of ____, have you considered…”, these never end well. “Ohhhhh, so you think that I should be doing more with my life? You know what, I never considered that! Thanks for pointing it out. While we’re pointing things out, you may want to step outside of my reach because I’m about to punch you in the face.” And so on and so forth.
Something just struck me and I can’t help but point out the dramatic irony which is simply too good to be kept as such. I am writing these very words while perched on my high-school bed surrounded by my high school belongings and my high school life. That’s right, I’m at my parents house (and by parents I mean mother and step-father, but I am a child of the nineties so that goes without saying). How did I get here? In a car my mom pays for that’s covered by an insurance policy that my mom pays for and with a gas tank freshly topped off using a credit card that, that’s right you guessed it, my mom pays for. How many strikes do you get before you’re out? Well I guess that makes it 749 consecutive innings without a hit, walk, error, fielder’s choice, foul-out, or hit-by-pitch for the home team. You can do the math if you feel like it, but take it from a math major, that’s a hell of a lot of K’s.
…Now that the contestant has chosen door number one, let’s see what’s behind door number two: a high paying job, beautiful girlfriend, and a future brighter than a 10 kiloton nuclear explosion. Too bad all that was behind door number one was the aftermath of said blast.
And so it is...
Here we go. I’m trying it again. Seeing what escapes my mind when I allow it to flow out of me. All I can feel is inner tension. It’s eating at me every time I breathe in and every time I breathe out, every time I blink, every time I swallow. It’s all I know. And it’s all I want. It’s better to feel sadness than feel nothing at all. And I’ve been devoid of everything before. And yet, no one would guess it to look at me. No one. Everyone sees me and thinks I’ve got it all together, got it all figured out. But I don’t. And that couldn’t be further from how I want to be. I want to feel love and joy and happiness. But I just can’t. Normal everyday things stop me in my tracks and make me feel as though the only option is to collapse and cry myself stupid. Cry myself away from everyone and everything. I feel alone in crowds and crowded alone. What are my choices then? I see none. All I want to do is space out, read depressing books, and listen to heart wrenching songs. I want to know that my feelings aren’t special and isolated to me. That other people feel what I am feeling. What happened to them? Did they overcome, or did they succumb? It used to be that every other though was about how to be happy. Now, it’s the polar opposite. It’s escaping everything by losing everything. I don’t mean possessions; I mean everything inside me. Everything that makes me, me. All I see around me are people going through the motions. Breathing in and out not out of necessity, but out of habit. And habit is not what I want. It’s not what I need. I can’t believe I’ve been here for a year. In this shitty apartment in a shitty section of shitty Brooklyn. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been told that all I need to do is find love. Find a girl who completes me. But if I can’t offer the other half of the puzzle, how will finding a girl complete anything? It would just be something else I would lose. Something else to destroy me. I’m fragile. I pretend I’m not, but you can reduce me to rubble with a single glance, a single phrase. Now, it’s not even a word or phrase, it’s the lack of conversation that defeats me. I feel dizzy writing this and even dizzier rereading it. I feel as if I am going to pass out with the weight of these emotions. It doesn’t even feel like I am part of me anymore. I feel like I’m standing over my shoulder watching myself type this. Wanting to tell myself to snap out of it, but I can’t. I can’t even control myself. That had been the one thing in this would that was under my control before. If you can’t control yourself, what can you? It’s the only thing that truly belongs to you and the only thing someone else can’t take away. The thoughts in your head are your only possessions. And mine are running away from me faster than I can express them. If I look up, I know I’ll see that I am being suffocated by my own cloud of despair. And I don’t know what to do…
The truth
Main Entry: tim·o·thy
Pronunciation: 'ti-m&-thE
Function: noun
1: a semi-satiating morsel of useless information
2: a self-destructive colloid of sarcasm and apathy in an alcohol solution
Pronunciation: 'ti-m&-thE
Function: noun
1: a semi-satiating morsel of useless information
2: a self-destructive colloid of sarcasm and apathy in an alcohol solution
What can we forgive?
Do these random thoughts have connections? If I stare at them long enough, will the truth, if there is such a thing, become apparent? Will my synapses fire in a new and original way? Do I even want them to.
If you had the key to life and happiness, would you use it? I would throw it away, give to to the first person I saw on the street. Better yet, I’d give it to the first person I met in my dreams. Who better to forever hide the answers to life and death than a figment of your own imagination who you will never conjure again. But why would I do such a thing? I feel that finding these answers bundled in a neat little package would defeat the purpose of life. As if seeing them all lined up like cigarettes in a pack would end existence. By throwing away this key, by forgetting that this pack of truths even exists, I would be saving humanity. And isn’t that the key to happiness in this life anyways? You see the answers without ever opening the box. Magic.
But then again, why would I want to help humanity. More often than not, they are why I don’t have happiness in my life. I say fuck them, take that key, insert and turn. Watch the world crumble as you see the face of god. And smile as the whole of existence fades to nothingness, with only yourself knowing its all about to end…
If you had the key to life and happiness, would you use it? I would throw it away, give to to the first person I saw on the street. Better yet, I’d give it to the first person I met in my dreams. Who better to forever hide the answers to life and death than a figment of your own imagination who you will never conjure again. But why would I do such a thing? I feel that finding these answers bundled in a neat little package would defeat the purpose of life. As if seeing them all lined up like cigarettes in a pack would end existence. By throwing away this key, by forgetting that this pack of truths even exists, I would be saving humanity. And isn’t that the key to happiness in this life anyways? You see the answers without ever opening the box. Magic.
But then again, why would I want to help humanity. More often than not, they are why I don’t have happiness in my life. I say fuck them, take that key, insert and turn. Watch the world crumble as you see the face of god. And smile as the whole of existence fades to nothingness, with only yourself knowing its all about to end…
Knowing....Not Thinking
"Sookie...I am numb"
silence isn’t golden, its dark, heavy, and dead.... like sweat, seeming to come from my very pores.... just don’t let the silence swallow....
everyone is staring and i don’t know why. why wont someone fucking reach out to me.... i see people, they dont fucking see me. they just look, stare, contort their faces and walk away shaking their heads. its so quiet i can almost read their minds. “poor boy” “what a loss” “fucking stuck up rich kid” “pathetic dreamer” fuck them, they dont know me or want to know me, they want to idealize me, like everything else in this pathetic experiment called life.
silence isn’t golden, its dark, heavy, and dead.... like sweat, seeming to come from my very pores.... just don’t let the silence swallow....
everyone is staring and i don’t know why. why wont someone fucking reach out to me.... i see people, they dont fucking see me. they just look, stare, contort their faces and walk away shaking their heads. its so quiet i can almost read their minds. “poor boy” “what a loss” “fucking stuck up rich kid” “pathetic dreamer” fuck them, they dont know me or want to know me, they want to idealize me, like everything else in this pathetic experiment called life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
