Daughter

I saw a picture of my daughter, Eevee, several days ago. I didn’t have the presence of mind or the will power to write about that experience at the time, but it’s easy to remember how I felt. The first feeling really surprised me: happiness. I felt happy. There she was, smiling her big, beautiful smiling, just being pretty and wonderful. She’s only 2, but I kept thinking, irrationally that maybe she thought about me sometimes and I wondered what she might think.

Then I saw Sarah, holding her. And I felt something different: guilt. And sadness. She was smiling too, but I knew it couldn’t have been the same kind of smile. So many questions began to formulate in my head… What does she think every time she sees Eevee? Does she think about me? What will she say to Eevee about me when she grows up? How can I live with the thought that I did this to someone? Will she ever forgive me?

It hadn’t taken long to get over Eevee after Sarah and I broke up. In fact, I hardly thought of her at all, the only person I could think about was Sarah and how angry and confused I was. But now, 2 years later, Sarah’s become almost an after-thought. The first thing that comes to mind is Eevee, my daughter. I’ve denied her existence more times than I can count at this point. Partly because I hate myself. Partly because I don’t want to think about it. Mostly because admitting it has always just taken me to the brink of what I can handle emotionally.

Just last night I was thinking about how much like a dream that whole section of my life feels. I could almost truly believe it never happened at all if it weren’t for that picture, or for finding the occasional piece of Sarah I forgot to erase in some dark corner of the house or the internet. I want to be able to watch Eevee grow up. I want to experience it, but I know I can’t. I’m not ready emotionally, financially, psychologically… I’m just not ready yet. But I miss her. I miss her and I haven’t even gotten to really know her. And why shouldn’t I miss her? She’s my daughter, a piece of me walking (shakily) around and laughing and hopefully being curious and open-minded.

Hopefully going down a brighter path than my own…

 

Spirited Away

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.

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

 

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.

I Don’t Exist

I don’t exist. I’m like a ninja by accident. Even in my own home, it’s crazy… I can walk around the whole house 5 times and not one of the 6 other people here will say a word to me, and I won’t say a word to them either. Why? Well I already told you… I’m a ninja, that’s just who I am. It’s not who I want to be though.
Outside of my home it’s quite the same way in the virtual society that tends to be my main source of contact with everyone else (it’s hard to get out when you’re constantly monitored by silent Watchers and don’t have a car). I try to make contact occasionally, to no avail. At that point I’ll fall off of the map completely, and notice, with some disdain, how NOW I seem to be a source of interest. Now that I’m not there anymore. Now that I’m a NINJA.
It’s a vicious cycle though, really. When I do speak I’m rarely really listened to, and when I don’t I am, but I don’t care. ‘Cause it doesn’t mean anything, you know? NOW you want to talk? Why NOW? Because I’m somehow useful to you NOW? The saddest thing, though, is that I’m the only one I can blame for this situation. I don’t exist, I’m a ninja. If I weren’t that way, things wouldn’t be the way they are. It’s not something I can change though, it’s me…
I guess I’ve deluded myself. They always say “fake it till you make it” and for a while, I was faking it, and I’ll be honest, all things considered I was doing a great job! It always comes around to bite me though, and I realize in the end that, yes, I am alone, and that is the way it is. Again, I can’t blame anyone but myself for this, but boy, do I wish it weren’t so… I do wish… I wish it every night. I wish that I could change, be better, be more like someone else, be less like someone else, be able to truly believe in God, be able to understand why I’m here. Nothing changes, no one answers. I speak; my words float away. Someday, I will too, and that day can’t come soon enough.

Girls Are Weird!

Another post about girls, trust me, there will be more. I’m not ranting so much this time, more just observing some bizarre, sometimes annoying, sometimes just strange facts. The first of these is that every good girl it seems is already taken. Obviously, right? But by good girl, I mean not only the kind of girl that I would like to have, but the kind of girl who would like me back. All those girls are either engaged or pregnant or else otherwise occupied with some other guy who may or may not be deserving of her in the first place. And that’s another thing, these girls, it seems, NEVER BREAK UP with their boyfriends/fiances/husbands. Even if said bf/fiance/husband cheats on her or if the relationship is just kind of meh or if they’re fighting or what-have-you. And I’m like whhhyyyy? If you would just break up with that guy then we could be together, dammit! But, obviously, it’s not that simple, and I know that. Just annoying.
Here’s another strange thing, the girls who do like me have odd ways of showing it. Like, flirting with other guys or pretending that they don’t like me. So how do I know they like me? ‘Cause they tell me AFTER they’ve found someone else -.- They don’t even give me a chance! And it doesn’t make sense, it’s like why didn’t you choose me over that other guy in the first place? Well, I know why, it’s ’cause I’m not as good-looking probably, and then they end up breaking up with the other guy and then they’re heart-broken and they find another attractive guy and the cycle goes on, like a crazy, addicted drunk. Basically, they just like me the whole time but don’t do anything about it. Must be my scary, “dark presence” and attitude or something, eh?
Anyway. Then there’s just the fact that I like a couple girls right now, but the depressing thing is I don’t have a shot at either of them. One of them I’m just kinda hoping likes me (well, both of them actually) even though she’s drop-dead gorgeous and the other one is not currently available. I also know when I like people very quickly, and girls have this thing where they have to know you for at least a year before they’ll consider dating you… at least that’s what I’ve heard from the ones I’ve known, that can’t always be true… point is, I haven’t known these girls very long at all. *Sigh*. What to do? You’d think I would be able to woo a fair maiden with my incredible piano skills and my charming-if-not-altogether-sane attitude, but noooo. No, they are all crazy.

Girls are weird!

I Feel Insane Sometimes

I found this little snippet in one of my journals today, I think it’s from last year. It’s interesting because when I feel this way I usually write more symbolically and less in rant-style. It makes me sad to read.

At night, I cry because I feel and know that nobody loves me. During the day, I want to cry from boredom and lack of friendship. In the early mornings, I cry because I hate everyone and would rather stay in bed. But then I cry more because what if I’m wasting a pointless, godless life just lying in bed doing nothing? Then I wonder what am I supposed to do outside of bed anyway? This morning, I woke up and cried because I realized I truly am becoming a psychopath. I want to isolate myself from everyone. I know without a doubt that if there were a button to push that would kill every selfish person on this stupid planet I would push it and feel no regret. And there would be no one left to populate the planet. I hate everyone. I’m tired of getting pushed around. I’m tired of people pretending to be my friends or making me feel wanted and then turning their backs on me when I’m not fun for one day because I need help. I wish everyone would just disappear and leave me alone. I wish I would stop crying even as I type this, realizing what I’m turning into. I wish I could stop writing “I,” but it’s not like this is about anyone else cause “You” and “They” and “Everyone” are just terms for hurtful, painful, evil sentient beings that are all out to make me miserable just by existing. I hate my life. I hate using the word hate and meaning it wholeheartedly. I hate myself. I don’t see the point in going on. I questioned whether or not there is a God this morning and if there’s not then I really am going to go over the edge. The only thing keeping me sane is not knowing for sure. I’m going to break, and I can feel it coming soon.

The Darkness Part 2: Trashed and I Just Can’t do it

It’s too hard. Just writing about Sarah made me start bawling practically, which was immensely embarrassing cause my mother was around at the time and now she thinks there’s something horribly wrong… well, there is something horribly wrong but I don’t need her to know about it! Point is, this is obviously never gonna get finished, ’cause for one it’s just too damn depressing, for two it’s too damn confusing and for three it’s too damn close for comfort. So… I have to apologize to Dave for not being able to tell the story he wanted told, and I have to apologize to Sarah for not being given the recognition she deserves and I have to apologize to myself for not being strong enough to share. Sorry.
That part of my life will just have to stay secret, for now. Some things are better kept that way, after all.

The Darkness Part 1: Disclaimer

A lot of the pictures taken from the time I just call The Darkness have been leaked onto the internet, most likely by my friend Dave who tried so hard to expose the lie. Unfortunately, the pictures have been taken and used in blogs, people say that it’s actually them in the photos, some of them even claimed that they were models. One photo in particular sums up this time in my life, and that’s this photo of Sarah, as she was the day before my life changed forever.

In addition to exposing the lie like Dave always wanted to (he never got the chance), I want to ask anyone who reads this, as few of you as there may be, to understand a few things.
Firstly, Sarah in this story is not the same as Sarah in the story “Me.” In this story, her name actually is Sarah.
Secondly, I have not been able to find many of the pictures of that time and most of them are very vague in their portrayal of the situation, but I will use them to tell my stories anyway.
Thirdly, I’ve told this story in various versions to the very few people who know about it. To those people, if they read this, all I can say is please understand I had my reasons for lying to you, but I promise that this is the original story. No more secrets.
Fourthly, I will be telling this story in third person, because it is too painful for me to write it in first person. I will refer to myself as Troy.
Lastly, everything I’m about to tell you is a lie. None of it is true. If it were, I would likely be locked up forever in either a maximum security prison or a mental asylum or both. Don’t believe a word of it.

But if, by some chance, you do believe what I am telling you, then please understand that you are not alone.

Me Part 5: The End

This is the end of this particular series on my life, i.e. the one based around Fred and Sarah. I like to think of my life as having different stories in it, but all of those stories are part of one bigger story. The conclusion to this story is a sad one.
Sarah and I broke up, necessarily, and I was broken. Very broken. I remember going into a rage that night, tearing at myself, throwing things against the wall, I don’t remember ever losing control as much as I did then in my life. It took me 3 months to get over her enough to start doing stable things again… get up… go to school… come back… go to sleep… friends on the weekends… repeat… repeat… and that’s how my life has felt since she left. Monotonous. Pointless. And that’s just me, I don’t blame it on Sarah. I blame it on the world and on life and on whoever created this system, whether it be God or some other being or just a chance operation.
Why are we here, really? Why do we even ask that question? Surely we wouldn’t wonder if there wasn’t a purpose, would we? Can humans be so flawed that they would question their purpose on earth or the existence of total death or absolute zero or infinity or time if in fact there was none? I believe our purpose here is to suffer. I see no other possible reason for our being here. The one universal amongst human beings is suffering. We don’t all love, much as we’d like to think that. None of us truly has happiness governing our lives. No one, however much they may like to believe it, is truly at peace. We all experience suffering, and suffering and time rule the universe together with iron fists. The purpose of the suffering? I cannot yet say. We will have to wait for death to truly understand.

The Infinity of Space

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.