The End of (College) Days
Graduation and real life are approaching. Not for another 9 months, but it’d be good on me to start thinking about it now. Luck favors the well prepared, as they say.
I try to visualize what the day after graduation will be like. Will I have somewhere other than my parents’ home to stay? Will I be able to move out of my apartment in SLO and find somewhere of my own to call home? Will I find a way to socialize and get out of my own bubble once I’m not surrounded by my colleagues? I can’t really see me being happy in any case.
The “Good” Scenario
I find an apartment in a city. I might not have a vehicle anymore, but I can get around using public transportation. I have a job at some software development company that designs video games. The work environment is nice; it’s stressful from time to time, but once work is over I can come home, kick back, and relax. I don’t feel like my soul and life are being wasted. The wages I’m earning are quite good: it’s more money than I know what to do with, since I’m used to saving and not extravagant spending. I might have someone to spend money on: whether it’s a SO or some mentee/little brother sort of deal. On the weekends I might have some (social) club to go to, where I can meet people and not be a hermit. The days are spent with friends, but they don’t really have to know who I am. The 9-5 routine sets boundaries like that.
Other than the routine, I’m not quite sure with what I’m doing with my life. Sure, I have other projects that I’m working on, like that video game for the iPod Touch that I brag about to people at parties, but I’m actually sad on the inside. A profound sadness, that my hypothetical SO doesn’t understand, and has given up trying to understand. On the weekends I can do what I like, but it feels more like a prison life than a free life.
My parents don’t really talk to me that much. My mom will call or email me once in a while to chat, but I don’t visit them except for maybe Thanksgiving one year or Chinese New Year. They’re proud that I’ve got this job with decent wages, but they’re wondering what they did to raise such an asexual automaton. They wonder whether any of their children will eventually produce grandchildren, since none of them have girlfriends, much less wives. I don’t need to tell them anything, other than a once-per-week how-I’m-doing checkup.
All in all, my life isn’t bad. I’m definitely not poor or unlucky. To most people of the world, my life as they see it is an object of envy and desire. But it hurts so much more inside. I contemplate that I’d be worse off in any other situation, but I’m lonely and scared. I just wish someone would reach out to me and deliver me from this lack of meaning.
The “Bad” Scenario
I’ve been lazy. I live in my parents’ house. I don’t have a job, and I’m no better than my oldest brother. I don’t really wake up in the mornings or afternoons anymore. When I wake up, the first thing I do is check my email and the daily comics and other daily things. I don’t go out of my room until I need to use the restroom, and hygiene has been switched off to an every-third-or-fourth-day thing. I contemplate working on one of my projects, but instead I laze around, reading articles online under the false impression that I’m increasing my knowledge of the world. I don’t really go out anymore. My friends all have moved on with their lives, but I haven’t gotten out of my social bubble and made new ones where I live.
My projects sit unfinished, and untouched. I hate many things. I can’t stand other things. My phone rests on my nightstand unchecked, with no messages to read.
My parents bear my lack of activity and wonder why their children are such failures in life. My parents no longer ask me how I’m doing — they’ve given up on us, and to them, it’s a test of God to bear us. There’s no hope for any of their children to bear offspring, but that’s okay with them now. They’ve made up with God.
I hate my life. I think I’m on the verge of suicide, but I can’t get out of the haze of laziness enough even to do that. I would be an alcoholic, but I still hate drinking. Life is worthless; I know mine is. I sleep and I wake. I do nothing. I am nothing.
Art
Record your ruin,
paint your pain.
Let your artwork
vaunt disdain.
Sing your sorrow,
dance discomfort;
in the morn you’ll
still feel the hurt.
Before you forget,
before it’s erased,
jot the impression:
forgiveness misplaced.
Firsts
This past weekend I’ve had so many new experiences in such a compact amount of time. I haven’t had the chance to sit down, slow down, and just take time to think about everything that’s happened. Even now, I’m having trouble arranging my thoughts and putting my feelings into words. I’ll list everything and then fill it all in eventually (to be edited).
E & C
It was inspiring to see a gay relationship be treated as so organic and…normal. Walking around the subtle homophobia in SLO (or rather, my former associates and current living arrangements) and reading horror stories about homophobia made it easy for me to forget that not everyone will treat me negatively for their prejudices against labels that define me. What they have, I want to eventually have: a loving relationship, and one that can be shared with friends without judgment.
The City
Going from SLO to Westwood was a culture shock. The slow SLO life is boring and one-day-at-a-time. The LA life is fast and exciting and breathless. The Friday evening was a bit rough and I was definitely out of my zone, but by the end of Friday night I was a bit too tired to be dragged along by the rush. Saturday shopping was intense and fast-paced; I’m not sure if I’ll get used to the idea of clothes shopping (from multiple stores), especially since it takes me so long to find something I like, and then finally try it on. Saturday night board/card games was fun, almost reminiscent of high school youth group (and mayyyyyybe CCF), except people here were happy and we slept in the same room afterwards. It helped that the weather was warm enough to take a much needed walk-and-slow-down afterwards. By Sunday my mind was definitely used to the LA pace, my shoes were breaking in, and I had gotten used to the soreness in my legs. After my date, I just walked around Westwood and then had a drink at Starbucks. It was an odd pace of slowness, but it helped to collect myself. I have to say that I probably had more fun this weekend than I had all quarter/summer long, despite it being a different type of fun and at a much quicker pace.
To do: go exploring in SF more (alone? independent?), considering how I live 35 minutes and $5 away.
Clothes & Style Changes
Learning ways to change my clothing style and how I look to others (or be changed at the consensual behest of others) has affected my outlook on life. Instead of being stuck as someone who I don’t like (I’ve got a lot of self-loathing to go around), I can dress myself differently and imagine that I’m a person that someone else might desire. And that actually happened at the club, and I was asked out on a date. This changes everything!
First Nightclub Experience
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this one. On one hand, I can see why people enjoy this and I do like the loud music to some degree. On the other hand, I can’t see myself enjoying dancing so much. I just can’t lose myself in something so fleeting and evanescent. But at the same time it’s somewhere where there are potential mates, and what am I if I pay no homage to my carnal instincts?
The first two-thirds of the experience was standard, indubitable awkwardness. But then when Amber pulled me aside and told me that Kevin thought I was cute, and that he wanted to dance with me, I was happy inside. When he asked for my number at the end, I was happy again. Even though the music was quite loud, the alcohol smell was distinct, and the heat was almost unbearable, it wasn’t a bad experience. I’m not one for losing myself in the music, but I don’t mind it if others can.
First Date
Of all the things that could happen / that I was expecting to happen, I’d never have thought that my first date would happen this weekend. I originally thought it would have just been a maybe-boring weekend, with me being awkward at the night club (did anyone really have any doubt I would?). However, how could I say no when the (first) opportunity was presented to me?
The date wasn’t really anything special. It was nice, but it was…I don’t know, standard? It sort of felt like I was a freshman meeting up with a senior or just me meeting up with any other person-that-I-don’t-really-know, to put it into a familiar experience (even though we’re the same age). In other words, there was no spark. We got along, but I don’t think either of us had any doubts we’d be more than friends.
I’m not sure how I feel about dating right now. On one hand, it’s supposed to be fun and exciting and new. But on the other hand, I can easily see the awkwardness that arises between me and someone I don’t know. I think if I were to go out on a date that I enjoyed, it would have to be with someone that I’ve already overcome that awkwardness barrier, where either one of us can be shy or awkward, but it’s okay since the other person knows that once we get home it’s not going to be like that.
Parking Ticket
This was my first car-related failure (other than failing the first driving test I took). It’s probably a bad thing, but I’m surprisingly indifferent to it. It wasn’t unfair, because the sign clearly said when I shouldn’t park there, but it completely slipped my mind. Maybe part of being indifferent is that I discovered it the afternoon after the nightclub experience? I’ll definitely pay more attention to signs from now on. I do feel like I have more experience as a driver now, though. Pulling up back home, I’m definitely a lot more comfortable with my car than I was at the beginning of the school year.
Friendship
The questions I ask myself now:
Am I angry at the fact that:
- the loyalty I have for my Christian friends cannot ever be reciprocated due to their beliefs?
- all of my Christian friendships will result in their attendance at my future wedding to be sad for me?
- the “friendships” I do have with them are only to rope me into their religion?
- they complain and complain, but instead of leaving, they just continue to go and find more things to complain about?
These past two weeks have finally opened up my eyes to how I’ve been deceived all along. Being backstabbed and thrown away by the fellowship hurt me deeply.
But at the same time, it’s liberating to release my expectations of my Christian friends (expectations were the motif of this past month) and begin treating them how they’ve always treated me.
Things
The fiery promise of independence burns brightly in the recesses of my mind, but the chilling thought of loneliness freezes those dreams. Independence is an ideal that I hope to one day grasp, but I don’t know why. Is it to prepare for a possible future loneliness? Those I see who have the least loneliness also have the least need for independence. Yet they are the ones with the most.
Seeing his independence is frightening: a stagnant, dull tradition of mediocre occurrences. But it’s simple. That’s what it’s always been about, hasn’t it?
Attention Whore
Is getting attention and feeling important/useful to other people really what you will betray your friends for?
Do not expect me to humor you anymore. Ever.
Everything you do is idiotic. You are helping no one. You are self-centered, selfish and senseless. No one likes you. Haven’t you realized that yet? And yet you will keep pushing away those who might put up with you, just so you can feel slightly important by knowing something that an actual leader doesn’t. You’re a perverse snake: slithering around on the ground, pretending like you mean something to anyone who will give you their time of day. And when people around you develop and grow their friendships, you pout and throw a fit, complaining to the leaders about “cliques” and how the state of the fellowship is deteriorating due to certain people. You’re the scum of the earth. You’re Satan’s lieutenant; how fortunate of you to have a leadership position.
Don’t expect me to trust you, either.
You’re exactly what Christianity needs to get rid of. You’re exactly what will make Heaven a terrible place to be, should you end up there. I thank your God that I’m not in your religion, because of people like you.
The difference between a good Christian friend and a bad one is that the first will be considerate before taking an action, while the latter will do whatever he/she wants, and beg for forgiveness afterwards. But even then, he will beg for forgiveness, at the same time try to defend himself that he was never wrong for doing it.
Thank you being so prompt in reminding me why I don’t go to your fellowship. It took less than 24 hours after I attended an event of yours for you to gossip with me with the rest of your leaders, to speculate about me, to try to figure out what goes on in my sex life, to figure out what’s “wrong” with me, to figure out my “struggles.” And you show not one bit of remorse for exploiting my secrets for your sense of superiority.
Say sorry. But don’t say to me, “sorry, but it was really your fault.” I see through your deception, prince of lies.
Mutt
Go on,
mutt.
Worship the hand of the person who
backhanded you and
betrayed you.
Delude yourself and say you’re forgiving,
you’re learning,
that you can love.
You never let anyone else be
your owner.
It hurts me to see you go back to
your abuser,
but I have no power to help you.
You hated me first.
