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.
Friday, April 29, 2005
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.
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