2011 fades away, and what a year it was. I’m going to be breaking this into multiple posts. A couple that are my year mostly in numbers, like books, movies, travel, etc. The other mostly made up of intangibles, life, love, lessons, and the like. This will be one of the former. I tend to document and record lots of data as kind of a side function of my everyday goings on. It’s not that I’m particularly stat focused or live life by numbers, but I like to keep track of where I go, how I got there, how much I did. It’s pretty easy to do now-a-days, especially since a lot of record keeping is automated. All you have to do is know where to look for the data. For example, I can look at my Verizon Wireless account and see that I spent 3289 minutes [52.4 hours / 2.18 days] talking on my phone this year. That doesn’t include Google Voice, GMail, or Skype calls, so the total is probably a bit higher. A more impressive number is texts. 20,608 from my phone and another 15,223 from Google Voice, for a total of 35,831 text messages. So, all the info is out there, it just needs to be added up.
It’s 2:00AM on Saturday morning as I started writing this. I’m sitting on a few drafts of posts; Part 2 of Playing With Power (Part 1), Part 3 of The Eyes Of Disarray, (Part 1, Part 2) along with one of my infamous compilation posts covering a huge range of topics. Per usual, I’m writing and creating faster than I can draft so instead of firing out updates here on a regular, almost daily, basis, I tend to just collect them until I can sit down and get them all ready for posting. Ideas usually come to me hard and fast, followed by short stretches of intense inspiration, and if I don’t capitalize on the moment they all just get backlogged until I get that next wind.
I’m watching a strange movie called ‘History of My Sexual Failures” on Sundance. I want it to be funny, but it’s really just kind of awkward and sad. I can’t really relate. It’s also almost 5AM on Easter Sunday (not that it really matters what day it is) and I’m being to told to go to sleep (instead, I’m writing this) but she’s right, I should probably get some rest. This is going to throw my whole schedule off this week.
Not that I really have a schedule. Usually I can just make due with the sleep I get, regardless of how little it is. It takes a lot to wear me down, even when I try to do it to myself. I have a reserve I just can’t seem to empty, physically, emotionally (with certain people), etc. I have been trying recently too, just to see what it would take.
Anyway, this is not how I had intended to start this post. Originally it came about from thinking about by the phrase “Love is patient, love is kind.” (that might not be the actual quote) and how, really (semantically) it most certainly is not. People in love are patient and kind, love (if it really possesses any actual intrinsic values) tends to be impatient and pretty cruel sometimes. Impatient in the way that it waits for nothing. Once love is on the scene, it wants what it wants and those in the line of fire have no choice, really, but to acquiesce. And in that you have the cruelty aspect. Love takes hold and you do what it says, although that can certainly include being patient and kind. For the record: my patience is unconditional, as is my kindness (for those who know me).
Well, now it’s two days later. I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally. I know how to fix both those things, but there is also a matter of opportunity that needs to present itself. I probably shouldn’t even be writing this with the mood I’m in. The combination of factors involved drag me so far up and down over the course of a single day. Well, that and I’m at work. The first day of my last week. Things are coming hard and fast with very little room for error. Not that I think I’ll make many, but I keep telling myself to make a list and, well, I never do for some reason. I tend to function better in real time.
It’s funny how people always say that my patience is one of my most amazing virtues, yet I feel like I am the most impatient man alive.
It’s been another full day. While I’m a bit better rested, I’m also a day behind on packing up my apartment, which I have to be out of in four days.
In this picture stands a man far away, alone, and distant like a solitary field in some nameless, foreign, land
My heart aches. There are days when it feels like the whole world has gone away. When everyone that I normally communicate with is silent. All I want is to reach out, for someone to reply or say anything to me, just so I know someone is there. I don’t know, maybe that’s an unreasonable expectation. It’s hard to rely on people to be there for me, but at the same time, no one is beholden to that. It’s no one’s, I’m no ones, burden and I refuse to ever be. Something I said almost a decade ago keeps resonating in my head: ‘I like being by myself, I hate being alone.”
I’m good at being by myself, or at least that’s what I’ve always said (maybe out of necessity). It’s a strength thing, a confirmation of ones ability to stand on their own two feet. To not need anyone, per se. The fact of the matter is, that is just a default. Everyone has to be good at being by themselves, it’s literally the only way to function. Not everyone is good at being alone though, but I’m slowly starting to realize, that’s not a bad thing. You can still be independent, strong, determined, able, effective, creative, etc and still want to be, need to be, with someone. Especially if that someone inspires you, pushes and drives you. It’s ok to get those things from another person, and not just yourself. I know I can do that for myself, it’s there, I’ve proven it a thousand times over, but I want it to be enhanced, augmented, pushed forward, by another person. By her. And I want to do the same for that person.
It’s not about sacrificing independence, it’s not about giving up that which makes up me. It’s about becoming something so much more with someone else. It’s about filling in that piece that is missing. You can figure out what the puzzle is supposed to be with pieces missing, but it won’t really be complete until those last pieces are filled in. Sometimes, it’s another person who has those pieces. Maybe that’s the lesson. I don’t know. But I do know what I want.
And now I have to strike out again on my own, like I always have. I have to shore up my reserves and push forward yet again. Although it is different this time, it feels so much the same and I don’t want it to be that way. What progress is there if I’m just going through the same motions once again? I have a goal this time, but there are time when I feel like it’s slipping away from me. My whole life has been the journey, I’m ready to get to one of the goals now. I can see it so clearly and I want it so badly.
Maybe, just this once?
Even in the course of writing just this, I’ve delayed by three days. I’m now only putting this here for the sake of actually posting something.
It’s been a while. Not so much in terms of chronology, especially given this particular website, but more-so that so much has happened in that time. It’s also certainly not for a lack of anything to write, given that I’m sitting on about a dozen half finished posts about twice as many topics (though curiously, nearly all written on a train of some sort).
Here are some of those excerpts, just for posterity’s sake.
It’s becoming painfully obvious that I’m living a bit outside my means. Not financially, mind you, not at all, but more-so in a personal sense. I seem to have woven a complicated web of emotional entanglements and poorly defined relationships recently. Well, maybe not so much recently, but lately they seem to be coming dangerously close to crossing over, or worse, colliding (I use “worse” loosely, see below).
The worst part about all this really is the level of detachment I’m develoing alongside the intense levels of distress certain aspects are causing me. This is what I mean by “living outside of my means”. My highs and lows have been much more intense, ranging far outside what I consider to be my usual parameters.
And there is a good reason I will always consider myself the villain.
I do my sincere best to do the right thing. Probably to a fault, since often times I will undertake a course of action that leads me to do what I think is the right thing for other people and not just myself. I don’t do this out of ego (maybe a lie), or at least I don’t think I do (a lie, sometimes I do), I just usually want to see people happy, despite my own outcome. A lot of times the protection of that happiness means obfuscating the truth of something to preserve a fragile balance.
I never tell people the whole story. Well, that’s not true. I’ve told one person, a person who does the same for me. A person who was, is, worth the risk of standing exposed in front of. Without my armor. Without my safeguards against the world. She knows more about me that anyone else alive. She has my secrets in her hand. She is the only person who is not part of my overwhelmingly obsessive need to compartmentalize the people in my life. She stands above that. I should say she floats above that. To me she is an angel. She argues otherwise. It’s a semantic argument about perfection. But now I’m getting off course. Suffice to say, she is perfect to me.
Well, it’s now been 8 days since I wrote the above. I once again find myself on a train (a common theme around these parts), exhausted (I got about an hour of sleep last night), on my way back to Boston from NYC. The paragraph above was originally followed but an outline regarding trust, but it’s not really relevant any more. Suffice to say, above all things, sometimes you share a connection with a person that is simply too strong, too amazing, to really even be able to articulate in text.
In any case… (I have a brutal headache at the moment, which is rare for me.)
At the moment I’m in the process of, what has humorously becomes known as, buttoning things up in my life. At the moment it’s mostly just fulfilling the last of certain obligations. Some I’m just barely squeaking by, others I’m finalizing down to a T. I’m not sure which this post attempt will become. I know I’m going to stop writing this at some point before I finish and then I’m just going to have one giant post made up of other unfinished posts and that is just far too much quoting for me to deal with.
So, I decided to resign from my position of Event Specialist at Harmonix Music Systems. There is a laundry list of reasons, but let’s stick with “it just wasn’t a good fit”. It’s kind of a shame too, because I really do believe in this company and its games. Unfortunately, there just isn’t place for me there anymore. I’m not sure how I really feel about it, to be honest. The more I shift back into my freelance mindset the more I realize it was the correct decision. I had compromised a lot of personal and professional values for the job because I loved the work. As the work started to slide away, those sacrifices and compromises started to tip the balance in the other direction. I need to feel challenged, pushed, by my work. I need to be moving forward, learning new things, and testing myself. I had high hopes for the job as a potential career path but hey, things don’t always go to plan. My plans are adaptable though. Sometimes, it’s just time to move on. It was a decent year.
Of course, in a manner of speaking, that puts me on the road again. Well, makes me transient again anyway. It’s much more a lifestyle I’m accustomed to. The difference this time is that it’s not an end based on means, which is kind of how it’s always been for me (queue Wherever I May Roam). I actually have some goals set, things I want to do, places I want to see, and a person I want more than anything to be with. I’ve gained a bit of clarity on my own timeline, which is something I’ve never really had, and now I need to apply what I’ve made a living doing to my personal life: Meticulous Execution.
I’d be lying if I said I had a rock solid plan but, like I mentioned before, my plans are adaptable. Certain aspects of this plan though, are most definitely not. I suppose those are the goals. I have a path though, and waypoints along the path, so what matters now is how I walk that path.
So, in the meantime, there are places you can expect to find me in the next few months that do not include Cambridge, MA. At any given point you can expect to find me in: Paris, Los Angeles, Prague, New York City, Seattle, San Diego, San Francisco, Austin, Rome, Vancouver, Santa Cruz, and/or London. Nothing is definite except for the fact that home has nothing to do with where I am and everything to do with who is standing beside me.
It seems I've waited years for this day to end.