Archive for September, 2011

Feel Kind of Anxious

Posted: September 29, 2011 in Uncategorized
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Not sure exactly why, but it feels kind of scary sometimes. I just don’t like groups most of the time. I don’t know what it is. Even in my class on Race and Labor, where everyone is ‘diverse’ I still feel like I don’t belong there and it kind of feels like groups always overshadow me; you can feel it happen psychologically and then physiologically.

My brain is too plastic and vulnerable; one day you’re in a group where everyone’s laughing and happy, the next you are in one that feels sort of murky. I like people, but not when there’s a sense of pride in the air, or of judgement. Sometimes you feel judgement even when there is none and that kind of intimidates me; you feel like the whole group is out to get you or something.

At my school, a lot of girls are very pretty. Everything is a symbol of something else and vice versa. Pretty girls are symbolic of a lot of emotions and memories that I contain in my mind, and I have realized seeing them creates some kind of reminder or something, that kind of makes me feel afraid. I can’t really explain it; maybe it’s one of those things that your mind creates that you eventually fall victim to yourself, and can’t seem to get out of it. As if you locked yourself in a dungeon and hid the key inside, but can’t remember where you put it, and have searched and searched with no avail.

Sometimes I think of my fear or fears and wonder whether it has a positive function for my life and to then just keep it there, as if it was meant to be this way. Other times it hurts and feels sad for things to be this way. It really does, and I have no idea how to change fear. Fear is one of the greatest themes of my life, as well as respect, and resistance, trust, pain, and growing. I believe these things are the pillars, or foundation in living a good enough life, or building a good ‘personhood,’ whatever that means.

People my age scare me sometimes, and I think it’s because of the kids at my earlier school and how mean they were. I feel like part of it was my fault though. In retrospect, the thing that was done -either by them or myself- most negatively impacting was that of exclusion. Excluding someone is one of the worst things you can do to someone else, or one of the worst things that can be done to you. We kind of forget that when we focus on the teasing, or the pinching. But if you felt like you belonged to at least SOME group, then at least you have that group. I feel I had no one, or nothing. But I wasn’t bullied that much. I could tolerate it because school was amusing enough.

And so nowadays, finding a group remains virtually impossible because the dynamics of a group my age, I feel, will be influenced by my experiences as a kid. And I don’t really know how to get over it; I’m not sure if anyone really does. I just want to feel happy enough to have no complaints or judgements of the people I have these feelings about. Feelings as in the feeling you get where people may be looming over you ready to strike like a snake. It can be scary and thus I tend to avoid these situations; I don’t even want to talk to someone on the phone, because I think they’re just going to reject me. I consider myself a fragmented person, but not broken. Of course I like, or even LOVE people, it’s just I feel I have no place with most of them. Sure you talk to one for a while here and there, but you never feel you’re there WITH them. It always feels like when I talk to people we’re teaching each other something.

Relationships are weird and complicated things because individuals are. We don’t entirely realize who WE are, let alone someone else. Many of us don’t make much sense both in our content of speech or our actions, myself included. We tend to want other people to define us by the treatment they give us, which we don’t necessarily admit to, but feels like it’s the truth. A lot of girls feel like shit because someone treated them like it, and thus they believed it to be true, and long to preserve this false but nevertheless ‘there’ reality they’ve somewhow managed to endure for so long.

I say it’s very important to define yourself, because it’s challenging and rewarding, and can make you a stronger person. It is also important to be as strong as you can be; not PHYSICALLY, but psychologically, emotionally, and most important, SPIRITUALLY. This is the hardest thing to possibly ever do. I am not where I want to be, but I know where I want to be, and that is a good start because it keeps you more or less on track. I don’t want to steal and I don’t want to be in trouble with the law or my family. I don’t really care too much about any peer groups: I feel at this point I’m used to so many people, everyone really, coming and going. God has been the only one to have been there for me throughout my ups and downs. And so I need to make things work better and try harder in school academically. Not socially, but academically. Not socially, but academically. Do all of your readings, John.

People are so weird… why are they so weird???

We’re all fucking freaks

Posted: September 19, 2011 in Uncategorized

And it’s about time we all admit it and not be so afraid.

On Sunday I realized how we all have problems, that a lot of us feel like others will judge us and think shitty things about us. That not many of us think very highly of ourselves. It DOESN’T matter how rich or poor we are, or how black or white or how Christian or Atheist we are, if we are. We’ve all had days, months, years, or maybe even our whole lifetime experiencing day after day feeling like there’s no hope, or that nobody cares. People that care are out there, though. Sometimes they find a group where people talk about themselves, but the fact that they’re talking in a circle about an issue about their pain means something’s fucking wrong with this picture.

I would ordinarily blame the mass media, TV, or Rupert Murdoch or these wealthy families, but … I mean their lives suck too. Just because they have all the money, power, status they could ever ever want doesn’t mean their lives are perfect. They’re just as fucked up as we are, maybe even more. What’s funny is you kind of always hear about it anyway: they’re divorces, re-marriages, crimes, psychological issues. Of course I’m against what they do and their lifestyle, but like I said we’re all fucking freaks; we all have problems in this everyday world and there’s nothing wrong with that at all.

I have issues with my social anxiety and social phobias, with my shoplifting. But we can’t just keep judging each other or be afraid of being judged or like you’re being looked at by the whole world but still feeling ignored.

I used to think there existed a person and or family that had it all, like in Leave it to Beaver. No serious problems like alcoholism, or anorexia, or huge family dysfucntions such as abuse or other kinds of violence. We all grow up seeing beautiful people at school or on TV and think, “Dayum; look at them and how normal and perfect and lucky they are. And look at me; I’m nobody. I can’t live throughout the day without thinking about how fucked up a person I am and how many issues I have. How come I can’tbe more like them? Play on a sports team, smile a lot and have the day go MY way every single fuckin day of the week!”

The reality of the situation is that these people are all putting on a fucking act. THOSE are the people that have some of the biggest issues, and hold them in even more. Because they don’t want people to know like we do. Why? Because they know people like them when they act or look that way and like anyone else why risk losing that? And so we ALL hold things in at some point.

Anyway, knowing people- ALL people- have issues may be a breakthrough. Cuz we all really do have a shit ton of issues. Whether those issues come in the form of humans (parents, bosses, random old people that take forever to get on the bus and make us late for work, or all of the above) or are about money or drugs or sex or not feeling good enough EVERY living moment except when we’re all getting are little fix AKA escape route on.

We have to someday deal with these issues because they most likely won’t go away on their own. If you feed a dog nothing but bacon and delicious ass dog food, is it really going to fuckin run away from you? And so your addiction or your low self-esteem may not run away from you. I wish I would one day wake up from sleeping and just be a confident person with girls or with groups of kids my age. It’s not going to happen that way. I get shakes, I breather weird, don’t make eye contact or trust people. No one problem has a look. On some level every race is discriminated against (yes white people have haters to), and there isn’t a alcoholic looking person on TV.

Some shows have a guy with all these wrinkles and a mullet sitting on the couch looking dazed and with dreary blue eyes, kids hollering and him beating on them. But I shit you not, how many people do you see in a big city everyday? I tell you I guarantee you I shared a bus ride with a drug or alcohol addict or even a child or parent of one- without a doubt. No one looks like they do anything in reality. The TV and our selective perception automatically associate sthings that are barely true on average: the guy with the suit and cool haircut is having an affair; the old lady must have issues with arthritis, that black guy is going to scare you at night and take your money away- it’s all lies. I have past by so many shy successful white guys that can’t even get laid; so many “old” ladies who can run a marathons or dance; and CERTAINLY a lot of black people who passed me by and did nothing to me except say hi.

These images are bullshit ideas that make it harder to realize that WE’RE ALL FREAKS.

And for once instead of envying the blonde woman at the supermarket or the great looking guy that gets girls, we need to see the imperfections the flaws in people.

The hottest, soberest, perkiest-titted blonde woman getting her nails did may have an eating disorder, have a close friend or relative with cancer, or even be an alcoholic. You never know these days. Our clothes can be shields sometimes. I know mines are…

My clothes tells people I’m normal and that i don’t stand out; I don’t want people’s attention because I think they’re going to make a spectacle out of me; this makes me avoid a shit ton of social situations that aren’t exactly mandatory for my Sociology degree or life. My lifestyle is dedicated to just waiting for the day to end to watch the next one do the same these days. But I am learning to make it an effort to realize where my problems COME FROM. Sometimes it’s okay to not be ‘in the moment’ because reflection means pushing the rewind button, and there’s absolutley nothing wrong about rewinding a video when you didn’t hear something before that may have contributed to the overall important ass part of the plot.

Anyway, I hope I have courage to make new friends this coming school year. I really do. I REALLY need to work on my anxiety. I’ll be okay for now.

Until next time reader. And remember: We’re all fucking freaks.

I may start blogging again…

Posted: September 12, 2011 in Uncategorized

Hey whoever’s actually reading these,

So I am on break for 2 weeks before starting my senior year in college. At the moment I am at the Public Library typing things.

I had a series of index cards with things written on them, things that are suppose to be goals for these 2 weeks. Here they are.

-Write a 5 page report on two important people in history: one man and one woman.

-Write a song

-Ride on the beach’s bike path more often. (I should purchase a bike light. All of mine break and the one I found is crap on a string- figuratively, anyway.)

-Write 5 Poems

-Do 25 Push-ups (in a row).

-Cook a Meal for my family

-Read one book (I have the choice of reading wither one or two; I choose one now.)

-Work out legs and butt because I heard girls like that more, and I think it’s best if I did them and ignore the annoying, good-for-nothing exercises at the school gym. Squats and Lunges and Deadlifts are the real winners in life.

– Volunteer at the Veteran Center (They told me to do a Live Scan [whatever the fuck THAT is] a while ago and I never kept in touch with them.)

-Throw out junk (our home is full of junk that no one uses but somehow is still there.)

-Clean the [dreaded] closet (not even going into that).

– Go to SMC Tuesdays and Thursdays

-Eat NO beef or pork! (This is kind of… not going to happen)

-Long distance running (yet to be written about)

-Write to God on Sundays

-See a movie and write about it

-Do 10 pull-ups in a row

-Dance more (which is hard since there’s no privacy at home.)

-And I guess write a blog post at least 4-5 times a week. (I’ll probably just end up doing it all the time.)

So I have been good at having absolutely no routine in my life, mostly because of my social issues and my low-self-esteem, which I am planning to work on more. When you don’t have a lot of friends you tend to not do anything, or at least what the popular meaning of the phrase ‘doing nothing’ means. Of course I do things and the day begins and ends. I want to say I am killing time because I am. It is 2:20 and I’ll go to sleep in about 8-11 hours so I can wait for the next day to finish. I am one sad ass motehfucker (for now) The funny part is I think in teh future I think everything’s automatically going to be perfect, which is in fact wrong by definition. The key contributor to the future is the present, and the key contributor to the present is ther present and secondarily, the past. Me and the past- we have issues that need to be resolved and shit. Things I need to grow out of already.

I’m waiting so I can go back to school on the 26th. I should really look for a job, but I’m the type of person that is expecting to not be hired because I think I’m worthless and that everyone with a retail job is an absolute asshole who doesn’t want me. And of course I go and blame it on the economy, or something. Yeah, that’s it! That’s why I can’t even look for a job!

So I’m mostly going to be writing things, which is what it says on the list. I doubt I’ll be watching much TV since I don’t really want to go home until I know no one’s around. I like being alone. It feels right when I am alone, because two things have been accomplished:

1. People don’t have to deal with me
2. I don’t have to worry about them hurting my feelings

And so there is an unwritten agreement that I should just be by myself and not have to worry about those moments where I hate what they did or when I have to schedule to see them again or something weird.

I’m just a very very very phobia-ridden person; well, not really. I’m not afraid of spiders or common fears. I’m just afraid of getting up and doing things, especially when it comes to building- BUILDING- relationships. Relationships really don’t just happen, which is what I want them to do. But you have to put all this work in and act aggressive and confident, and assertive; you have to risk people accusing that you’re smothering them when you contact them. You have to deal with the silences people have on the phone because (for whatever reason) people don’t want to converse on the phone anymore. I don’t because it feels weird, and I catch myself thinking “Am I having a phone call right now? What do I say; how does this shit even work anymore? Why are they bothering me? WE can’t talk to each other on the phone right now!”

Anyway, relationships are tough because they all have issues- any relationship. Frogs and trees have good relationships until a frog breaks a leg and can’t go on a tree anymore. Me and the post people are cool until the mailman drops off a package at my door and tries to hit on me (MailMAN). We can’t have relationships in perfect symbiosis. Well, we can, it’s just a matter of what we think of symbiosis. Sometimes it’s a damaging kind of symbiotic relationship.

I dunno; people are weird. I’m weird; people tell me all the time and aren’t afraid to say it. What they ARE afraid to admit is that THEY’RE fuckin’ weird and have some SERIOUS issues they wanna blame on everyone else or even act like they aren’t real and some shit. YOU ain’t perfect; shit.

Anyway, before I get all angryassmotherfuckerinthehouse.com up in this bitch, maybe I should end this post here. i don’t know what else to write about. I am getting hungry, but I do not want to spend money or go home any time soon. Fracking… ON THE EARTH!