Now I'm Writing Poety in a Studio Apartment

Another blog post, another obscure song reference for a title. In any case, here's some pics of my apartment so some people will quit bugging me. Click for larger images.

Don't wait for a knight in shining armor/Your savior's reflected in the mirror

I spoke briefly about investing in one's self a little in my last post, and I think that I should expound on that a bit.

I find that both myself and my generation as a whole are far too concerned with the opinions and approval of others. I was contemplating my current college social situation last evening, and I realized something. We reach out to others for approval, pleasure and, above all, acceptance. We crave it, as it reinforces our sense of self. What I mean is, we look to others for confirmation of our worth. We use others as a guage of our competency when, indeed, we should be realizing and appreciating our value on a personal, subjective level.

I digress, though; all this philosophy lacks application without an example. What brought me around to the above conclusion was the realization that I only have three, maybe four friends. You guys know who you are. If you know you are not one of those people, don't refer to me in conversation as "my friend Andy." Please use "this guy I know" or "an acquaitance of mine." I would also appreciate it if you limited uses of the phrases "douchebag," "asshole," or "dickweed" when referring to me.

So, what do all these gratuitous obscenities have to do with self-investment? Admittedly not much. In any case, in order to maintain some dignity, I've had to take some pride in who I am. I would also take time to mention that pride is like fire; lack of caution will result in getting burned. I never really used to realize why pride has classically been referred to as one of the notorious seven deadly sins until I looked at the proud people I know. I began realizing that it was self-destructive and, frankly, fucking annoying as hell.

In essense, what am I saying? Only that you're as good as you make yourself, not as good as others make you out to be. Be proud, but avoid hubris. Overly-proud people are detestible at best, damnable at worst.

On a briefer, more amusing note, I've found how my emotions cycle. Observe:

Don't gain the world and lose your soul, wisdom is better than silver or gold

Who knew I'd be titling a blog post with lyrics from a Bob Marley song? The closest to reggae I get is "Temperature" by Sean Paul.

In any case, it's good advise for any ambitious colliegate such as myself. I've spoken about slowing down and taking things as they come. I've looked at and reflected upon what I had planned for myself this semester:
20 Hours/week at Starbucks
18 Hours of classes
Young Democrats
Learning guitar
Getting a short story published
Working on the Dulcimer staff
Getting a six-pack

I've since realized that doing all that would drive me batshit insane. Here's what I've changed:
No job
15 Hours of classes
Young Democrats
Guitar
Write for the hell of it
Dulcimer staff
Better overall fitness, but a six-pack would still be nice

I begun to understand the value of investing in myself. I have no need to prove anything to anyone, I just need to make myself into what I want to be. I'm a self-proclaimed disbeliever in things like "fate," and I'm going to live in a manner that I find pleasing and beneficial to myself. I'm not going to make myself stagnant waiting for "the real me" to "emerge." The "real me" is the person I dictate to others via my actions, and my actions are genuine since I have nothing to hide. I'm not looking to gain anything besides happiness, wisdom, and a few good friends.

To all my friends that are living life tentatively and that concern themselves deeply with the "proper" way to conduct themselves: quit worrying and live. There's not a "right" way to do it. Look out for yourself and do good unto others; the rest is how you want it.

Fuck destiny.

Minimalism and Trimming the Hedges

Let's just assume I'm in a bad mood. You don't want to read through 2 paragraphs of bitching, right? So just remember that. Foul temper.

Anyways, I've begun to notice that I'm carrying a bit of excess around in this life. A little too much here and there really starts to add up and weigh you down. Why not get rid of it? You know, perhaps a little separation of chaff and wheat? Sounds logical, right?

It is. Plain and simple. Accordingly, I'm ridding myself of these things. There are some ambitions, possessions, ideas, and, sadly, people that are just not worth the cost.

I'm really hoping that someone comes along and proves me wrong on this. I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a better way. I'm open to suggestions.

In other, semi-related news, I've reached my target weight for the summer. I've trimmed off 25 lbs. Next goal? Six-pack by Christmas. ;)

Sing for absolution

Man. I've been in some pretty weird states lately. My moods have ebbed and flowed, but, for now, at least, I'm cautiously in a good mood. I guess that two days of only really talking with Lyn and Andrew will do that to me, as they've helped me realize a major flaw in the way I'm conducting myself.

In essense, they've both told me both directly and indirectly that I've been heading in the wrong direction. I've been looking for a relationship when I should just be dating. Trying new things and meeting new people. Lyn said it best when she told me, "You're looking for someone to call a girlfriend." She's right, though. What I need now is to explore my tastes in women. Different races, religions, creeds, etc. I've not even been around for two decades. Why the hell have I been looking for a relationship?

I want, more than anything else, to learn something about myself through the people I date. I don't want to wind up thinking I have the woman I want when, in actuality, I'm heading for a nasty break-up/divorce.

I'm also looking at how I conduct and maintain my frienships. My best friends, I've noticed, all have something in common. When they ask how I am, and I tell them that I'm honestly in a bad mood, they ask why. They don't give me that "Oh, I'm sorry" bullshit. They listen and offer advice, not just consolation. It's come to the point that I don't want a bunch of fringe friends that require me to parade around in masks. I'm going to stick with an intimate few that care about me and like me for who I am.

On a completely different note (pun intended), I've discovered a desire to create music. I've found my singing voice, which isn't half bad--just an octave or so higher than I would like. I guess that's what happens when your father and grandfather were tenors as well. I've gotten into writing lyrics, which has proven to be a bit of fun ever since my muse got revived. I'm thinking about talking to Dr. Cass about learning guitar, as he's pretty good. As I said in an essay last year, "I've long since given up on perfection, so creativity is as close to godliness as I'll ever get."

What? No lyrics this post? Nah.

Standing in the rain (milk carton mugshot, baby!)

Ah, the wonder that is unrequited love. Person A may love Person B, but Person B is in love with Person C, C in love with D. Maybe it’s just a crush, maybe it’s an unappreciated devotion, or maybe it’s two people embarrassed to admit their feelings. Perhaps Persons A, B, C, and D are individually suffering from one of those situations. Maybe C knows that B likes them, but they like D even though D treats C like shit. Just one of the interesting observations I’ve had recently. It’s a chain of misery, yet we will all inevitably subject ourselves to it in some point in our lives.

I’m also reminded of my recent interests, two of whom have offhandedly told me off and a third that doesn’t know I like her. They all have something in common: they’re all hopelessly devoted to someone who does and will not appreciate them. That brings me to another interesting observation.

All these people are the same person. They embody the same sets of beliefs and have the same attitude towards the ones who are devoted to them. They have paper-thin coats of kindness that hide their true colors. They’re like monsters hiding behind mirrors; unexpected lovers think they see themselves in the jerk/bitch, but it just belies the horrible truth.

I’ve thought about this, and I’ve begun seeing myself drift towards that attitude. I could do it; I have the money, and the looks are almost in place. I have friends that have gone for that ideology, and they aren’t necessarily all guys. They’ve had mixed success, but it’s more success than I.

You know what, though, I don’t really give a crap if what I’m doing isn’t really working out too well. I’m not going to compromise my character for the graces of others. I’m a hopeless nice guy, and I’m probably going to finish last. I’ve got all those losing qualities: I’m a good listener, I care about people, I like knowing how your day went, I like knowing how you feel, I value your opinion, I like knowing what you think, I can compromise, I think talking’s fun, and I’m loyal. So, yeah. I’m going to be shit out of luck in my love life for a while because girls don’t want that. They want pretentious pricks who have nice things.

I won’t sacrifice my dignity to be like them, even though I could be just like them.

“I will treat you well,
My sweet angel.
So help me, Jesus.”
(Possum Kingdom – The Toadies)

Step up, get shot down. Get up again. Repeat ad infinitum et nauseum.

Well. Things were good for a bit. About 2 days to be exact. I had worked things out a little, and things looked up. I'd dusted off my clothes, wiped the sweat from my brow and the blood from my nose, and then I get a call at work today; an emergency, I was told. My bird was bleeding badly and we had to rush to the vet.

Long story short, she had difficulty laying an egg that essentially tore up her reproductive tract. The vet gave us an estimate: $630 - $1080 for surgery that might and, indeed, probably would not even work.

Let it be known that I hate suffering, especially in animals, especially in birds. Over the course of six years, this bird only ever came to me. Only let me hold her. She was mine and wanted to be. I feel I made the best choice; I would never watch her suffer. Now, there's an empty corner in my living room. A little piece of me is buried in the back yard.

This summer has fucked with my head. There aren't too many words to describe it. "Roller coaster" doesn't quite convey what it's been like. If what doesn't kill you truly makes you stronger, I should be a beast by now.

You know what though? This summer may have disgraced, ruined, and nearly killed me, but I'm not going to be kept down. I'm going to take every ounce of learning and wisdom from this bitch of a season and put it to use. Even if it somehow gets worse, I'll know that I hit the floor swinging and get up again.

"Up against the wall
Snipers on the roof
Thought I was a gonner, baby.
I'm bulletproof"
(Bulletproof - A3)

I wish it weren't so late. I could use a good run right now.