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…

 

February 20th, 2013

Today was a pretty swell day, I thought, not terribly exciting, but swell. I got an A on my Sociology test, got this wonderful piece of artwork from an old friend and even had a poem dedicated to me! What could be better? Well, besides not being so concerned with life and humanity all the time I mean? Ha, wouldn’t you know I’d have to be one of THOSE people. You know the ones I mean. The ones who are born philosophers even though they really don’t want to be philosophers at all because philosophy is such a depressing subject when it comes down to it. I was born to think. That much I can say for myself. I may still have a lot to learn about life and acceptance and forgiveness and God and all this, but I can damn well THINK it to death first.

Also, my music instructor… UGH.

I swear, I’ve never blanked so much when it comes to writing music. Normally it just kind of flows out of me, but you know what Mr. Smith wants? He wants experimental music. Because I’m in an advanced class and normal music is not advanced. I mean here I am composing these catchy little tunes with lots of interesting hooks and changes and he tells me it’s “Certainly competent” but not “abstract.” When the hell did music being abstract make it advanced?! I thought that just meant you couldn’t write a decent song to save your life so you relied on that label “abstract” to save your ass!

Anyway.

I’ll get over it and write something very abstract and share it with everyone when I’m done and you can be the judge of whether or not it sounds advanced to you. P.S. It’s going to sound like shite. Just sayin.

I’m A Scary Guy

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Don’t laugh, people who know me… I am. Terribly frightening. I hold doors open for people even when they’re 20 feet away, say please and thank you with a smile as often as I can, compliment women’s hair, and refrain from being judgmental about individual people when getting to know them. I AM A MONSTER… but, as you can probably tell, this is all very sarcastic and ridiculous.
See, here’s the thing, I’m really not that scary at all. In fact, I’m one of the more emotional and sensitive guys you’ll meet. But appearances can definitely be deceiving.
I mean, I really tried looking at myself from an outside perspective today. This is all in my never-ending effort to discover what it is about me that seems to make people turn away, because I’m just self-aware like that. I look pretty emo most days, hair long and oftentimes over my eyes unless I decide I want it fluffy one day. I wear black skinny jeans, black shirts and black converse shoes. I carry around a black backpack with the Anarchy symbol displayed proudly on the back and I walk in such a way so that it seems I’m not going anywhere in particular. Maybe a little daunting? A little different, to be sure, but not exactly scary. Then again, maybe different is scary to some people. But then, how different am I really? There’s plenty of people who dress the same way and tote around Anarchy symbols just cause they’re posers… maybe the problem is just that, I’m not a poser. Maybe the problem is that everyone else is posing and when they see me they go AAAHHH BLINDED BY THE TRUTH!! HE’S… SO… REAL! I dunno, just speculating here.
But I did hear once, from a friend, that I could be a little daunting. She said it was my “mysterious nature” and “dark appearance.” Not even sure what that means, to be honest. It’s not like on the days I’m forced to wear yellow shirts and boring blue jeans that anyone treats me any differently. And mysterious nature? What? I’m the least mysterious of people, I share like everything about myself! But, apparently I’m scary, and I’ve really got to figure out how, ’cause it’s driving me nuts here people. I’m getting a little tired of the weird looks in my direction, or lack thereof. I’m either invisible or I stick out like a sore thumb, and not in the good way. I’m going to try something for the rest of this week though. I’m going to wear all brighter colors, keep my hair fluffy all the time, not tote my anarchy backpack around, just be a total loser basically. And I’m gonna see if people react differently towards me then. I think this is a good experiment actually, it could tell me a lot; or, more likely, nothing at all. ‘Cause at the end of the day, Marilyn Manson is married, so I don’t think “scary” really has anything to do with it…

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.
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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.