get bent: June 2015

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

"And in his eyes he had the look of the cat who inspires a desire to caress but loves no one, who never feels he must respond to the impulses he arouses."

Anaïs Nin

Daddy's Home

To celebrate the homecoming of my beloved laptop, I sit here on my desk bearing the undivided intention of a complete and sincere entry. I can't remember the last time I was here, but everything beneath my fingers feels like home. Granting myself my own sentiments, this is has been a long-awaited happiness.

As I was driving home a few moments ago, I thought about what I would write about first. What I would publish out first. And the only solid content that came to me is how I am my own static character. I'm flat. I have months worth of evidence (years if I'm readily to return to my typical self-deprecation). But maybe it's too soon for that. Or maybe it's all too tired for that. Something has changed, surely. Unfortunately nothing that I can put in my own words.

My dog is asleep on my bed. She, and this moment alone, could keep me contently here for quite some time. She's got the hiccups. Maybe she can sense my excitement. But really, she'll just happily lick her feet beside me, and I'd probably do the same. My girl and I are meant to be together, and this is the first time I am experiencing this type of love.

As for my well-being, I still have all but significance to say. If it's possible that I have less to say, I couldn't be surprised. I don't feel miserable. But the stagnance remains. The looming nothingness remains. I talk and think less about death (maybe?). I talk and think less about most the things I'd obsessed about. My focus steadies on my entanglements. Distraction after another. All to avoid the seriousness that's always bored me. I might just be relieved that I haven't felt hateful in quite a long time. Pat myself on my damn back.

Half of my friends are graduating and getting on with things to get on. I peer into their lives sometimes and take note of this pride I have for them. This spectator happiness that I nod their way. It's comforting really, to know that somebody could be doing alright. The other half are getting more lost. Or staying off. Or breaking down. There's a silence for that, but we don't talk about it anymore because there's nothing to talk about. The silence is to confirm what's already understood. "This too shall pass" being the sound that echoes intermittently.

To close this off, I'll confess that I had been watching the Warriors' games. It brings me nothing but anxiety, frustration, perspiration, and embarrassment. Unfortunately, I will see it through till the last game. I'm in too deep now and I currently do not know who I am. Can't even tell if life is better off this way. No matter, I raise my eyebrows to myself.