So, you wanna join the suicide club…

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Not that it’s a horrible idea or anything. Actually, I was once the assistant secretary of the vice president for the Suicide Club. A respectable role that involved greeting new members, taking down names, and get this: making sure they were suicidal enough to join. Ready for the crazy part? This story is completely legitimate. No metaphors, no witty symbolism, just the cold, hard truth. So what do you do in a suicide club? Well, probably not what you think we would do.

Of the 50 people I met who joined, only 1 of them actually ended up committing suicide. I was there at the time. She OD’d on <insert anti-depressant drug I can’t remember here>. Thing is, I didn’t find out she’d done it until I told her a story about my ex-girlfriend Sarah who had hung herself. It was at THAT point that her eyes welled up with tears and she told me she had OD’d about an hour ago, but that she didn’t want to die. I called an ambulance. They were unable to save her. And that was that.

What changed her mind? She’d already jumped through the final hoop, she’d been smiling (and vomiting) up until the point she said she couldn’t go through with it after all. I think it was a certain aspect of Sarah and I’s story. You see, she and I made a pact that as long as the other one was alive, we would never willingly leave the earth before our time was up, because that would just mean less time together in life. On top of that, we promised that if one of us broke that oath, the other one was obligated to kill themselves as well, in the same manner, so as to increase the probability that we would see each other in the after life. I didn’t do it though. Because I realized something as I sat beneath that great big pine tree, watching her limp body sway ever so slightly in the cool evening breeze… she was gone.

I mean, truly gone.

People talk about ghosts and auras and spirits and all these things when people die… there was nothing. No smile. No beauty. I remember laughing at how absurdly empty she was, when before she had been the most lively and beautiful person I had ever met. So now, here I am, half the man I used to be, and no relationship I’ve had thusfar has filled that hole in my being. If it sounds cliche, then good, because she epitomized cliche. She was/is the other half of me, and is forever lost to a void that is completely unknown to me. All the more reason to commit suicide, right? Well hold on… don’t you realize what all of this implies?

Somewhere out there, there is someone counting on you to be around to save them.

That’s it. Don’t believe me? Well, if you stick around long enough, you will. They NEED you. They may not know it yet, and you may not be able to believe it, but you have to. Your death will effect someone at some point, even if it’s down the road, in ways you cannot possibly imagine. And I guarantee that that someone is going to be the person you love/would have loved more than anything else in the world.

So, after all that, you may be wondering what the rest of the 49 people, including myself, did in the suicide club. Mostly, we talked about life over tea and occasionally a board game. And we lived together. Ironic? Not really, in fact, that would be an abhorrent misuse of the word. Funny? Yah, a little bit. But mostly is was just nice. Dandy. Swell. Simple. So if you wanna join, go right ahead… we’re all waiting for you here, with open minds and open arms.

Veils, Shadows, Minds, Hearts…

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You feel it coming before it hits you. Did you know that? Insanity, in the true sense of the word. That feeling of not being “all there,” or separation. It doesn’t wash over you like a tidal wave. It rises, from the feet up, it’s hot at first, but it cools down and freezes over your head. You can’t move, you’re too afraid to move…. “what if I make a mistake? what if I hurt someone?” You can see faces, but you can’t see PEOPLE.

How does one like me explain… there are no words in any language created by man. Only analogies and allegories. You’re walking with your loved one, the sun is warm, but it’s overcast, a pleasant kind of overcast and there’s a light rain that feels good on your cheek. You come to a fork in the road and you go right. Your loved one goes left, ’cause she realizes something that you don’t: there is no right. But off you go anyway, you hear her words, but not her voice, and you think she’s still near to you. The path is treacherous, it rains so hard that it starts to flood, you whistle a familiar tune to calm yourself, even though you didn’t realize there was anything wrong in the first place. But when it finally hits you… when you feel the water rise over your head, when you’re drowning, when you see “him” standing in front of you… you know, him, you, but the you that went left… that’s when reality sets in. That’s when you KNOW that you’re different, that the world you thought you knew is not as tangible as you thought it was. That the “reality” isn’t very “real” at all.

At times like these, I just have to separate myself from everything, watch the universe go round and round through a window. I can’t step outside. It’s dangerous out there… that would be suicide for sure. People may forget me… I may forget them, perhaps… I may forget how to walk and speak and pray and love… but I’ll live.

Survival is a talent forced upon all of us, and one I dearly wish I did not have.

Spirited Away

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Most of the art that I like speaks to me on such a deep level that it actually arouses emotions that I oftentimes forget are there. Music is far and away the art-form that speaks to me most clearly, but I want to talk about films, visual art.

It’s the films that make me cry that I know are the best. Often-times, it’s not that they’re sad necessarily that causes me to cry, but it’s that they bring out these emotions that I know will go away as soon as the film is over, and I don’t want them too. They remind of a part of myself that is hidden in some dark corners within myself, that in everyday life I can’t bring all the way out, into the light. The most recent of these is Spirited Away, the animated film by Hayao Miyazaki.

Chihiro worked so well for me as a main character; she was young, naive (but not stupid), charming, and most importantly, she had character. I could connect with her from the VERY beginning of the movie, when she’s reading her farewell card in the bouquet of flowers, complaining about moving to a new city. I knew right away there was something special about her, a mystery that made her less than a normal, scared 10-year-old girl in a big new world. She was different, aloof in a way. Mature not in her actions, personality or physique, but in the way she understood things and thought about the world. In short, she reminded me of myself.

I was enthralled throughout the entire movie, of course for the beautiful animation and the wild imagination of Miyazaki, but more than anything for the story and the characters. Chihiro grows up, in a way, as the movie goes on and she experiences different things, but she never loses one important quality: acceptance. The most valuable quality of childhood, the one that makes me sad as I watch it disappear in children as they get older. Unconditional kindness and love. She has it for everyone, she’s able to forgive everyone (and does, in the end).

No Face is my favorite example of the importance of this unconditional kindness, and is my second favorite character in the film. To me, he represents most of the people in modern society; lonely, sad, hiding behind a smiling mask, and immediately attracted to the genuine kindness shown by Chihiro. When he is rejected by her the first time, he becomes upset, and craves the attention of everyone else, “eating it all up” if you will 😛 No Face is not truly happy with the many things he indulges himself with, but he pretends to be, and over time becomes more and more moody, angry, and gluttonous. Chihiro, in the end, rejects him for the last time, but not because she doesn’t like him, because she knows what’s wrong and that she isn’t the answer to his happiness. In the end, No Face’s happiness comes in the form of a simple life out in a village, in the company of a witch, who appreciates him and recognizes his talents. He’s not lonely anymore, he’s found his place and feels like he belongs, thanks to Chihiro’s help. Same for Haku, who is reminded of his real name by Chihiro towards the end of the movie.

In fact, by the end of the movie, the one person who doesn’t seem to have “found her place,” truly, is Chihiro. I think this is symbolized by the fact that the hair tie she received in the other world flashes at the end of the movie, reminding us that she was truly there and has left a part of herself there in a way. She exists in two different worlds, a mediator, a person who helps others find their own way but never stops long enough to find her own. And it’s THAT thought that made me cry at the end of the movie.

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Some of us are born to fill that role it seems. To help others. And we lose our way more often than anyone else I think, because we forget that our place isn’t one specific location. It causes more harm than good sometimes. I admit that I’ve lost my way more times than I count, I’ve had selfish thoughts, wondering why I help others just so that they can be happy and then forget about me, no longer needing someone unstable in their lives. But that’s the point, isn’t it? To embrace it, to cherish our talents and our understanding of the world, to not withdraw ourselves. To not think about how horrible the world is, but to help it become a better place, because we’re the only ones who can. To remove the masks and stop being “No Faces,” and to show our real smiles and laughter underneath.

I highly recommend Spirited Away to anyone who hasn’t seen it. I apologize if the post was all over the place, I can’t be sure because I’m simply writing all of my thoughts quickly… but anyway. At least tonight I know, and I won’t forget my place… at least tonight I can sleep comfortably, with a little bit of Chihiro in my heart 🙂

You Live Right Here

You Live Right Here

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When poets forget how to

Make people cry,

When all of the airplanes

Start arriving on time,

 

When all those who care can no longer try,

Never forget that I love you.

 

When all of the music is

Spoken and not heard,

When the words that we speak

Become mundane and absurd,

 

When the paths that we walk take the darkest of turns,

Never forget that I love you.

 

When the mountains collapse

And the oceans overflow,

When hatred at last

Becomes all that we know,

 

When God calls His people and nobody shows,

Never forget that I love you.

 

Never have I met,

In the time that I’ve lived,

A girl to whom my heart,

I’d so gladly give.

 

A girl who forever and always will live

Right here in my heart,

 

Where we’ll never be apart.

Me Part 4: Misery

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that we are all very much alone. There’s some comfort to be taken in that. Knowing that you are in control of your fate (hopefully) and that technically your actions and feelings are something you control yourself is comforting in a way. At the same time though, loneliness is completely miserable. Loneliness has bred sociopaths, killers, liars, cheaters, and philosophers since human life began, and in my case, it brought back something I’d hoped never to see again…
It started out with Sarah’s pregnancy and our engagement. I tried so hard to convince myself that this was something I could handle and that I would never leave her. So many pregnancies lead to break-ups, but I loved this girl enough to stick by her side through the whole thing, I was sure of it. Consciously, I was right. Sub-consciously, I was fooling myself from the beginning. Things just began to slip. I would get angry for no reason, she would throw insults at me out of the blue, suddenly that honeymoon phase was over because we had to be responsible parents. I remember every “good time” we had after learning that she was pregnant was always shrouded over by the darkness of a previous argument, or the knowledge that one was soon to come. It was miserable. I still loved her, but I started to hate her at the same time.
It’s so difficult to describe the dynamics of a relationship like this. The best I can do is to compare Sarah’s pregnancy to marriage, it was like a label telling us that the fun and games were over. But I was 18, and she a year younger, and we weren’t prepared for that. It resulted in some of the worst and most depressing fights I’ve ever been in before. I don’t know how we lasted so long. The real clincher though was after the baby was born. Seeing her face when little Rebecca was put in her arms, knowing that our relationship was over. And there was Fred, again. At the worst possible moment he decided to show up and I lost control. I ran out of that room, tears streaming down my face. I ran and I ran until I couldn’t run anymore and then I just kept walking, trying to get as lost as I possibly could and as far from that baby and that girl as I was able. And then I just sat down, my head in my arms, for what seemed like an eternity before Sarah’s parents found me and brought me back to their home.
Life, for me, became dream-like. I felt numb. I didn’t feel like a dad, I felt like a failure. My father had practically disowned me, and my mother (bless her heart) was disappointed beyond what I thought I could bear. I was disappointed in myself. Fred was constantly tormenting me, having the time of his life because he’d known all along it would never last. He was right. He’s always right. Loneliness would always rule my life from that point on, and there was nothing I could do about it.
The day Sarah and I broke up, I think a little piece of me died. I haven’t ever been able to get it back.

The Infinity of Space

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The Infinity of Space

Most of us spend our

Whole lives

Searching,

Wandering aimlessly through

The infinity of space.

But not I.

Somewhere out amongst

The stars, she is

Waiting

Smiling softly, chuckling when

I catch the wrong orbit.

I find her by chance in

The rings of Jupiter,

Reaching

For my hand, which I grasp

Tightly in my own.

I say softly into her ear

“I will never let go, my

Love

For no star shines

As beautifully as you do.”

But inevitably we are both

Pulled apart by separate

Orbits

By Gravity, by black holes

Consuming the last rays of light.

As her warmth leaves me

I whisper

“Goodbye.”

And she floats away, her tears suspended in

The infinity of space.

Me Part 3: Love

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I couldn’t for the life of me find a picture of her… I deleted them all after our relationship ended and she’s blocked me on FB, which is understandable because it must hurt to even think about me. Her name was Sarah. That wasn’t actually her name, but I’ve just now decided that putting her real name on this blog would seem strange somehow. I met her my senior year of high school, in a theater class. We were both actors. I remember watching her try out for the part of the seductive Diana in “Lend me a Tenor” and I was love-struck from the start. Something about the way she moved, the beads running up and down her arms, her upbeat character that I knew was a cover up for something deeper and darker. I remember we didn’t talk much at first, we were both too nervous. But she would smile at me when I came in the room and I would smile back and wave and sit down next to her and we would be content to be in each others company.
At some point, she started following me every day after theater to the music room on campus, where I would play my guitar and she would sit and listen to me play. I loved it, these were some of the best days of my life. She especially liked my piano music… I think she could feel it like I could, maybe not quite the same way, but I like to think it made her bones quiver a little bit. Finally, the day came that I knew I was going to ask her out. And I did.

“Will you go out with me?” I said, with my head pointed at the ground, probably blushing like crazy.

A few seconds past and I became nervous and looked up. She was smiling the biggest smile I ever saw and she said, “Sure.”

After that, we moved so fast… we were telling each other “I love you” after a week. And I meant it. She made Fred go away, she made my nightmares go away, she made me feel like I’d never felt before.  I remember laying in the grass and staring up at the clouds, watching her dance while I played music, kissing her in the moonlight when no one else could see. We had sex for the first time in the office of our arch-nemesis, who’s name I will not put here for fear it will be found, but the point is he did not much like our public displays of affection and told us so quite sternly, though oftentimes in subtle ways, at any given opportunity. It was like something out of a romance-drama, it really was. The drama part came much too soon for me.
She lived in Longmont and was boarding at the high school I went to. Over Christmas Break, I wanted to go see her but my parents would not have it, saying it was inappropriate for someone of my age. So, I packed my bags and I walked 7 miles from my house to the bus station, rode up to Longmont, and walked another 5 miles to her house. And that’s when it happened. We didn’t find out for 5 weeks later though. Sarah had begun throwing up and seeming quite miserable and sick since I’d visited her over Christmas break. We had a suspicion we hoped was not true… and I remember how it happened all too well.
We bought the pregnancy test. She went into the bathroom. Came out very quietly and showed me the test and said, “Look.”

“It’s a plus.” I said.

“But the line there is so faint…” she started to say.

“You’re pregnant.”

And she burst out crying in my arms. I don’t remember how long we stood there, Sarah crying, me staring at nothing in particular and wondering what I was supposed to do now. Fred came back in that instance, smiling, whispering to me about how I could never get away from him forever. A tear ran down my cheek and I said, “Sarah… will you marry me?”

And she stopped crying. And she looked up at me with her big blue eyes and she said “Absofuckinglutely.”

Girls

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Girls. I could rant for days. Instead I’ll just cover the important things though… You can’t live with em, you can’t live without em as they say. I’m at that age where I’m kind of in limbo between wanting and needing a partner of some kind. Someone who is patient, kind and understanding, someone who is not judgmental and appreciates the little things in life. You know, just a generally nice girl. There’s just one problem… I can’t find any. That’s right, try as I might, I have not found one girl who matches the description above. Plenty of guys like that, but that’s not gonna help me much. And I’m not sexist either. I really like girls. I do. But they’re sadistic little creatures!
It’s not just the physically attractive ones either. Oh, those are bad though, to be sure. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been used and abused and stood up and thrown aside and mocked (subtly, of course) and otherwise hurt by some girl who knew I liked her and thought it would be fun to play games.
Some girls don’t play those games, they just pretend to be really nice. So if I say, “hey, we should hang out sometime” and they don’t really want to, they’ll go “YAH SURE THAT SOUNDS FANTASTIC!! XOXO” and then they’ll just ignore me forever. It’s like they already have so many friends there’s not room for another one. It’s terrible. And I’m not “coming on” to anyone either, I’m perfectly nice about it. When I do come on to someone, it always backfires anyway and I never do it again. ‘Cause let’s face it, girls just don’t like me. And I think that’s the main cause for my frustration really… but it’s not that they don’t like me cause I’m a negative, mean person. The only reason I can possibly find, after much self-reflection and working my butt off to improve myself as much as I possibly could, is my looks.
It’s so degrading. Having tried so hard for the past 9 months after my last break up to be the best person I can be, even faced with a rotten past and Bipolar Disorder, and to be tossed aside because you don’t look like… I don’t know, <insert attractive guy here>. The point is, it just hurts. And like I said, it’s not just the attractive girls. Even the unattractive ones (physically mind you) treat me like a lesser friend. And I just don’t know what else to do… I’m a good friend, I ask to hang out, I don’t flirt when I know they’re not interested, I find something genuinely attractive about every person I meet, and yet all I get in return is this sort of half-hearted attempt to be nice to the “weird kid.” And I’m not that weird. At least I don’t think so.
It’s just annoying. “Where have all the good guys gone?” doesn’t mean anything anymore. It translates into “Where have all the good attractive guys gone?” and that’s just shallow. I mean really, I could care less about physical appearance and I mean that. No, I won’t date an obese girl, but not because she’s obese, simply because if she can’t take care of her body I can’t expect her to make a good partner. I take care of myself. I take care of my friends. I take extremely good care of my significant others. I’m not gonna be modest about it… I’m a really good partner! I always try my best in any relationship!
I just wish girls had values like they used to. And I wish they cared about the world and about philosophy and life and all that. I’m tired of all the materialism and selfishness, and I’m tired of the girls who act like they don’t buy into all that stuff and then do. Who was the person that said don’t rant in a blog? BAHAHAHA I’LL RANT AS MUCH AS I WANT TO!
Sorry, lost my cool there for a second. *Sigh* girls. They just make me a sad panda. If I ever find someone who actually accepts me for who I am… well, lucky her :]

Singles Awareness Day

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Today is Singles Awareness Day. It doesn’t really bother me too much actually, I haven’t had a girlfriend in all of… oh… 9 months now. It would be nice to have someone wish me a Happy Valentine’s Day besides my mother, but hey, you can’t go wishing too much ’cause 99% of the time you’re not going to get what you wish for.
Anyway, I was thankful to be able to sleep in today because my first class didn’t start until 12:15. After that I went to see my therapist and told him about how I’ve been doing, the thoughts I’ve been having, and this blog. He thought it was a good idea to have a blog because it would help me put down my thoughts and hopefully forget about them for a while. He’s actually right on that point.
The one thing that does bother me is there’s this girl I kind of like who goes to my school, but I know with absolute certainty that she doesn’t like me back. It’s sad, but what are you gonna do… I’m not sure why she doesn’t like me. I mean, no, I’m not exactly a looker or anything, but I’m a nice guy and while you may view me as totally depressed judging by this blog, I can be upbeat when I need to be. Plus, I mean, I do music and visual fx, I’m into the same kind of music and I love philosophy like she does! So I’ve concluded it’s my looks. Not really a shocker. Girls are all shallow (at least the ones I’ve known), and I will most definitely be writing a post on this tonight.
Well, anyway. At least we’re having a little Valentine’s party here at my house with the family in about an hour here. That’ll take my mind off things. Happy Singles Awareness Day all!