Met up with Steve Eble. Going to his new place I guess, which is kinda a big hotel thing. There's a lobby/dinner hall thing where I see other people I know; I talk to Dylan Bakley a bit, see Shannon with some guy, Nicole and her new bf and Kelsey, and some more. Then Steve and I go to the elevator which is really just a decent sized room with low bedding and couches. Matt Trench, Kenny Miranda, and like 10 other people, half of which I know and the other half strangers — all ride this elevator up. It's not a very smooth ride, and it's tilted. I actually kinda fall into this girl next to me and apologize. I see that she's not doing well, been infected by some sort of zombie virus I remembered from earlier which looks like it will take over soon. I try to comfort her a bit, she's also pretty cute and I consider just taking care of her until she turns and bites me and then just going along with it. But then Justin comes after the elevator stops, and I realize it's his fiancee.
I walk across the lobby of this high floor, Steve and most other people went to their rooms down the hall. I see a cat not doing well, and some scientist guy is observing because she also has the virus. She starts doing weird movements and stretches. I go down the hall to see if Steve's there but all the rooms are closed and I give up because I don't know which room is his. I go back to the lobby area. Justin is there with fiancee comforting her. There's some familiar movie playing which I now forget. Some other stuff happened which I also forget. But at some point I'm laying in a bed/bathtub-looking thing with the infected cat from earlier on my lap, only now it's clearly Chloe. I comforted her until she was kinda asleep with her head buried into me. We stay like that for awhile until she starts to stir, she's probly gonna turn any second, could easily bite me if so. She lifts her weary head and looks at me and says, "Rob, I'm drunk." I think my mom and some other close people are near. I tell her, "I know, it's okay. It'll be over soon." Then I wake up.
Earlier in the dream, I was at this house where this little brown skinned kid of about 7 was treated in an unacceptable manner from his parents. I think it was based on this kid andrew who lived behind paul reardon and whose trampoline I would frequently use. It was a familiar situation, I believe from another dream. Anyway, as I understood it, the kid usually sneaks out with a backpack of stuff after I leave and I drive him away to save him from his oppressive parents. he didn't wind up finding me in my car this time, but I had a feeling he would be somewhere else.
So next thing was me walking across the tilton 9 parking lot along tilton rd with this guy bill I work with. It was much bigger, and we were walking to some 2 story motel the was kinda near the old sharon zhengs (I think it had something to do with finding that kid). actually, I was goofing around, riding on one of the tables we use at work. only it was more like the cart we used at tilton 9 to move prints which I frequently did ride around the booth. I also had a skateboard.
We walk by these 2 black guys, probably about 20 years old, one was shorter wider darker than the other (kinda reminded me of the Goo and the older brother from My Brother and Me in appearance, only more ghetto). next thing I knew the lighter skinnier black guy hits me. I don't remember the dialogue too well, but basically he was trying to intimidate me into giving him my money and skateboard. I tell him to fuck off, and hit him. it was a pretty weak punch, like how you can never quite have the proper control over your body physically because of dream physics. some of my responses similarly did not come out of my mouth as audibly as they should have.
anyway, the lighter skinned guy keeps trying to fuck with me but I embarrass him by not submitting to his bullshit and continuing to belittle him through our conversation, as well as hitting him a few more times, a little harder each time, but still not real punches. he even held a gun at my face at one point, but it did not phase me. I remember staring down the barrel, confident he wouldn't do anything despite the erratic behavior he was exhibiting. or maybe I just didn't care, not sure. he held the gun to his own head later but then I started telling him a heartfelt speech about how I was suicidal and he shouldn't kill himself because it would certainly be a mistake. then he starts to give up but grabs onto my skateboard because I wasn't holding it at the time. a few more of his friends had arrived and he figured taking my skateboard would save some face.
they start walking away with the board laughing but I follow. I tell lighter guy that skateboarding was one of the few things I still care about after the aforementioned suicidal time in my life; also my board is old and beat up and not even worth that much. I say, "at least play me in a game of skate for the board." they actually seemed to agree with this, but I just wind up shoving him behind and taking my board saying, "nah actually it's my board so fuck you." I start walking away but I think they kept harassing me. I almost hit one with my skateboard and they kinda backed off.
I talk to the coworker bill and he tells me he would normally have not put up with that shit but he was in trouble with the law for telling some woman off or something, might have had something to do with his kids. anyway we go to the motel room and sure enough those 2 guys come in. they whisper something into bill's ear, I thought it might have something to do with them threatening his kids or something. I think I yell at them or hit them and they leave.
They come back with some arby's and offer it as a peace offering. I immediately accept and shake lighter guy's hand and say thanks. He seemed to smiley though so I assume it's a trick. I say, "what did you rub your ass with this burger or something?" they kinda just laugh and leave. I say to bill, "what a shame. I guess we can't eat these delicious arby's sandwiches."
I'm pretty happy I guess. happiness is a weird thing. the more you feel, the more you expect. and expectations are harshly misleading.
but things are okay. new job is okay. don't have to deal with people much, and when I do it is seldom a bother. get to listen to music. I've been listening to btmi- vacation pretty much every night. sleep is kinda fucked but it hasn't had too much of an impact. the hours are very inconvenient for hanging out with people though. I stopped trying to go to sleep immediately after getting home and instead having been smoking and playing cave story or playing guitar or watching the office. I am about to run out of weed though and I don't plan on getting more. I will try to take a break. I haven't had much of a break in the last 6 years so let's see how it goes. I feel like I should do it. but I will probably start getting anxious. and I traditionally have not been great with anxiety. maybe I'm at a point where I can handle it, or maybe I'm just genetically inclined towards a stabilizing substance, such as many other relatives on both sides of the family. I'm guessing I will give in after a week or two. but it all depends. perhaps if other things in my life start to keep my mind busy, I will be too preoccupied for anxiety. but still I doubt it. I'm pretty weak when it comes to facing anxiety. I start making excuse after excuse and my conscious mind eats it up.
like with school. taking classes has proved to be quite a nuisance, although it's not really much worse than I expected. I can get by, but I am not doing well. got c's on my first two tests somehow. with the job and desire to do leisurely things occasionally, I cannot fully dedicate myself to it. so far I've only really managed to meet deadlines, and even that just barely. I think one of the issues is that I am not convinced that taking classes is even worthwhile. I have this idea that maybe I can become a pharmacist. but it would be tough. especially if I'll be working 45 hours a week, which I will if I keep my current job which I probly can't do much better than for now. also I'm apprehensive because I wouldn't be one 'til I'm in my 30's 'til I achieve my goal. which I guess isn't actually too far away and leaves plenty of time to reap the benefits of a solid career, but I could also just work at shop rite and be making close to 20 an hour by then without paying out the ass for all that education. sure, working at shop rite forever sounds pretty lousy, and there's a considerable chance I wind up like one of those weird bitter people who have worked for one corporation too long, but it seems like it could work well for me. I'm not really a reach for the stars kind of person, more a meditate in the moonlight person. I have my own little romanticized ideals involving simple pleasures. I don't need much to be happy, but I would like some financial security, especially if I ever start a family. the money won't be great, but probably good enough.
the problem is I cannot trust my own mind. all of these justifications could just be cowardice. and it can infect thoughts like a cancer.
but I'll probably keep going to school. unless something changes
Well I'm here again, as I tend to do when I feel lost. My biggest issue over the last 5 years has definitely been trying understand what it is I value most in life. I still have little to no idea. Considering at one point in life I had given up on everything, it shouldn't be a surprise. There was several years in which my only concern was achieving a sense of complacency. Well, in that I was successful, although I apparently did it too well because all of my values are shaped around that pursuit. Now what?
I am getting a place with Johnny's girlfriend, Ralfina. That will be a nice, much needed change. I will also be on unemployment soon, which while be a good opportunity to do things like figuring out how to cook and reading more books and doing more yoga. I'm sure it will be a good opportunity to understand myself better. My complacency issue leads to me having too much inertia. I am often unphased by new ideas that are not relevant to my current mental state. If I maintain a sense of momentum, I do fine.
I've been seeing this girl recently. She's nice, intelligent, reasonably attractive, has fairly similar interests and point of views etc. I can't think of much in terms of downsides. She is definitely into me and hoping I start fully committing to her, but I'm not really sure if I'm feeling that sort of drive. It's too bad I don't have any real relationship experience to use as a frame of reference. I only have a vague idea of what romance should be; a dream that I'm not sure if it ever even existed. It was that dream that saved me, and I cannot tolerate the idea that I may be missing out on fulfilling the dream.
Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy that I'll always be alone? Why do I push people away? Am I just the victim of an undesired defense mechanism?
Tonight a drunk Sean Coleman was bored at 1 am and wanted to hang out. I could have hung out with said girl tonight I'm sure but instead I just sort of dismissed that option, yet when I impulsively agree to hang out with a friend in less than desirable conditions. I actually biked there because I had a few drinks and thought a bike ride would be nice, but the rainfall increased exponentially on my way. I became soaked through multiple layers of clothing, which made biking home considerably worse. Plus, it left me anxious causing me to stay up all night watching Dr. Horrible and thinking about stuff. All this, yet I can't deny an unmistakable absence of regret. Granted, I've always appreciated the appeal of night time for some reason. I think it's because I associate my dreams with night, and my dreams are primarily a surreal yet profoundly positive experience.
This is like the summer of love. Seriously - like 95% of the people I know are happily in a stable relationship. So obviously I am thrilled to have constant reminders of my loneliness, not to mention that all of my friends have only the shortest of windows when I can be relevant in their lives (partly my fault due to having a shitty work schedule).
I know someday I too will have that relationship, as I'm sure at least half of those relationships will crumble with time. I am just tired of the same patterns of loneliness which I cannot seem to break. The brief moments of romance in my life dissolve before I even realize what happened. I keep trying to build myself up but pieces are lost with each endeavor. I find new pieces but can never figure out how they fit with the old pieces. Maybe I should just keep throwing out those old pieces.
It's a shame that when I completely fell apart the only thing that helped put me back together was a temporary conduit of love from a girl. When I was cut off from that supply I was left a desperate mess of ambitions and ideals. Surviving by duct taping all the weak spots.
Enough metaphor. Now that I got that out of the back of my mind I can go back to being positive.
Depression is caused by thinking too much. Sure, it is necessary to think about things thoroughly, but we should not to dwell on the significance of experiences. Times were had; feelings bloomed but eventually wilted; expectations were exceeded at times, and fell short others. We perceive things through a biased point of view, favoring the option that we associate with sense of pleasure- those times in which our expectations were not just met but shown a whole new, enchanting possibility in which we couldn't see before. The phenomenon sets the standard for our perspective; changes us. We look for what we had, but just improved in a subtle way. Because happiness is something we expect to increase at a steady rate. We do what we can to avoid starting from scratch. We choose the paths that have proven most reliable to us. The ones that lead to pleasure, whether they be the fastest or the safest. Eventually, we don't focus on the path, just the goal itself. Our mind seeks pleasure and doesn't have time for anything else. And we grow more empty as we keep grasping at air.