catalog of august 2020

 Unemployed,

depressed(?)

heat wave

dehydrated

Dreams from My Father

birds

d&d

anxiety

geri getting us a light cover

front neighbors

guy with the lower jaw thing

underbite?

(was he the one who ripped out our camera?)

birdbath

bugs

bees drinking shaded water green with algea

dreams from a restless night of sleep

bitter? not really

resigned, more like

quiet

depressed?

HBO Max is not good -- Ricky and Morty

taking the dog for a walk

visiting my mom

writing poetry no one's gonna read

writing poetry no one asked for

jacking off to feel something

addicted to endorphins that rush of pleasure

so quick to dissipate

faster higher faster fall

days without bathing

amazon is terrible

no one needs two hundred billion

heat wave my clothes wet

$190 electrical bill last month

reading to feel productive

how can i be productive on twitter or instagram?

wastes of time usually

unless to jack off

how quickly that's over

waiting for something to happen

is it more quiet

it's more quiet around here. blogger. my desk. the home office i'm in.

it's 9:38 AM as i write this. today's thursday, may 14, 2020. it's hard to keep track of days.

daze. what am i up to? not much. doing projects around the house. or at least trying to. not really getting anything done.

i feel like a bum. i feel like chris pratt's character in parks & recreation, you know the one who in season 1 is with rashida jones and is like a loser musician.

i need to talk to someone qualified to help me. maybe i need therapy. no, i definitely probably need therapy. depression? anxiety for sure.

i feel tired and scared all the time. i waste time in extremes. 

job

i didn't get the job. they sent an email two days after the final interview.

i cried, of course. not too much.

i told my girlfriend that it wasn't the not getting it that hurt the most. what hurt the most was feeling like a failure.

i've been there over a year. it's kinda a relief, in a way. answering phones may be bad for me.

where to now?

Trying to become a writer (Dec 16, 2019)

Before the new year, i'm reflecting.

i had not abandoned this blog, but i had forgotten the password for a while.

so much has gone on here. you can read it in the history. in the archives. my words, my thoughts, my ideas: my pining for ana; my nervousness about finishing college; my self-doubt about being a writer; my early-twenties lethargy.

i've wrestled with the question of whether or not i have depression. i think i'm afraid to know the answer. i'm afraid of a lot of things. for example, figuring out my medical insurance. isn't that silly? i'm afraid of getting better.

i'm going to pick up where i left off on here. just sparse, ungrammatical thoughts. experiences i'm exposed to. musings about my french toast and d&d and yu-gi-oh: the abridged series (wonderful, by the way).

poetry -- my go-to hobby, now turned into ambition, now become writing every day, every day hoping to be published one great big One Day. copper canyon press, i'm free to talk.

kanye west sort of makes fun of people who say they miss the old kanye. well, i don't know if i miss the old me. i don't think i do. but there's something that i miss about the past that i don't quite know what it is. is it the people? old readers, old friends from blogger. is it the time of my life when i wrote here the most? living with my parents and still in college. is it the security of anonymity? knowing nobody i know was going to read my blog. (that's still the case though)

here's the wishing well i throw my heart into. that's this blog. that's here in this spot of the internet.

it would be nice if someone was listening up there. in any case, i'll still go on about my day.

Thanksgiving 2019

rain outside
sitting in the office
girlfriend showering
need to wash clothes
dinner at my parents and then her sister's
rain tapping on the glass
second floor
closed blinds
daft punk's "within" in the bathroom
heating shut off
water bottle down stairs

Hello, 2018

Hello, blog.

Hello, old friend.

Hello, old space.

Hello, old times.

Hello, old self.

Hello, old me.

Hello, the past.

Hello, the present and future.

I wanted to just keep you up to date with me.

I'm married now. No, just kidding.

But I'm still in a relationship with the same person. We actually moved in together. We've been living together for about four weeks now, and it's been hard.

Harder than I expected because of how different we are, personalities and outlooks.

Sometimes, I feel criticized and judged. Sometimes, I feel supported and loved. Sometimes, I'm afraid of her reaction to what I'm about to say or do. Sometimes, I feel like crying. Sometimes, I feel hopeless and defeated.

But does the good out-weigh it?

There is good too. She's loving and adventurous. She's smart and career-driven and independent. She handles her business. She just called me, asking if I want any lunch from Costco. She's affectionate. She said my cooking was good this morning even though I put too much milk in the eggs.

Life goes on.

I'm writing a book. I have my own website. I'm posting regularly on Instagram. I'm not obsessed with anybody right now. I'm in love with my girlfriend. I'm healthy. I lift weights 2-3 times a week.

I'm sitting in my home office right now. My girlfriend owns a house. I own a car. I work at various colleges as an adjunct instructor.

I'm going, I'm going, I'm going.

I wear dress shirts most days now. I just saw The Color Purple with my girlfriend's family on Saturday at the Segerstrom Center.

Life, man. Life. Life is tough and full of bills and bad neighbors. Life is full of showering and doing laundry. Life is worrying about next month's rent. Life is getting new tires after last week's 5-day tirp to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Life is putting everything on credit. Life is drinking enough water. Life is cracking knees. Life is managing dandruff and athletes foot and psoriasis.

I want to go back to school, to take a few general ed classes, maybe even finally finish my Associate's for no reason other than to finish it. I want to ride a motorcycle. I want to make money and have enough money every month. I want to finish my book and post it for the world to love me and judge me and maybe even notice me.

My phone's at 79%. I have to go teach a class at 5:30 in Garden Grove. There's gonna be traffic, so I'm gonna have to leave around 4 o'clock. Tomorrow is when Frontier is coming to hook up the cable. It's gonna cost $75 for installation alone.

I miss my parents. It's like I've sorta forgotten about them and my old home. I don't feel like this is home yet. It feels strange, like I don't have a home. My stuff is here, but my joy isn't...yet. I hope to make my life here, full of joy and happiness and pride. It hasn't happened yet. I'm trying--God, I'm trying. It's going slowly...

What is my life made of? What am I trying for? I feel so near to crying right now. I feel so on edge about possibilities. It could be either, neither, or both. I want to laugh again. I want to crack jokes and life without fear of arousing anger, suspicion, and silence. Is hope ever violent?

Relationship goals

I'm currently lying on my bed, texting a friend from school who's going to take her comprehensive exam on Tuesday. Haven't spoken to her in like a month, and before that, maybe another month, and before that, a few months. Not since graduation, I guess.

I guess I'm in the real world now, though it often feels unreal to me. Like, I'm not ready, I mean. This isn't what I wanted.

What I wanted to do was join the Peace Corps right after graduating. But I didn't do it. I met someone. I couldn't leave her.

I often ask myself, are you with her because you are happier with her? Or are you with her because you're too afraid to end things, afraid of the pain you'll cause her? I still don't know the answer, to be honest. Each day makes the answer more pertinent, lengthens the inevitable end or perhaps not, and I just don't know, really, if I'm happy anymore.

Wanting her to change, be nicer to be, be kinder to herself, embrace the world and relax her anxieties because they hurt me just as they hurt her. Delusion and expectation -- these two stand-in for hope; maybe they are hope, and always have been.

To contrast our worldviews is to play into the binary of half-full, half-empty. My assumptions make things safe; hers require her to guard herself.

I think I'd be happier broken up with her, but I'm happier not to break up with her. Another paradox, another expectation eating it's own tail.

Am I happy?

Do I want this?

I stood looking out into my future and I chose to stay here. There's no regret, no blame. But -- there's always a "but." But will I be okay? In this difference assumption, in this difference expectation?

I have not really planned my life, and maybe because of that, I haven't really kept it safe. I think the fire is in danger of going out. And I'm hoping that this relationship is going to help me protect it.