I'm staring at the screen, wondering what to write. Despite having been here for so long, and rattled on about so much, I still struggle with being candid.
I've had a day where I talk to myself more than usual. Not uncommon. I'll play out a really sophisticated scenario in my head, and I'll play out all the characters myself. I'll get to live a fantasy of having friends, be admired and respected, get to feel like I'm smart and successful, talking to women without being a dickless chump, and finally feel like somebody. Then as the day nears its end, I'm snapped out of it, and I remember "Yea... that's not me... not even the people I'm imagining are anyway realistic. Real people are petty and selfish, disgusting and banal, not interested in talking about whatever pretentiously 'intellectual' thing you imagine talking about, barely interested in talking at all... what do people talk about? How do people get close to eachother?... It's an unfathomable mystery, a secret, one you're not privvy to, and never will be. Perhaps you should've done something productive today rather than fellate yourself with delusional comforts. You're always going to keep yourself too mentally weakened and anesthetized to actually obtain this shit you actually want? What a retard, what a weakling, what a waste."
Yeah, it's not a safe world, and people who are worth being around (ie aren't just loudmouth jackasses) are usually not sure it's safe to talk about what they actually care about before getting to know people. Only advice I have is be okay with who you are, relax, and give people time.
I see things in two ways:
* 90% of people are doing their best 90% of the time. That includes you. You're doing your best and that's good. Everyone else is doing their best to get over their struggles and do their best too. Some people want to talk about it, some people don't. Everyone's got happy memories and aspirations and those are good things to talk about. Everyone's got menial tasks or problems and those are good things to commiserate about. They're just people. You're just people. We're just people too.
* You can grow a garden anywhere. Friendships, relationships, business, romance. It takes work, and it takes tending. It won't happen on its own. Everyone's looking for a little connection, and that's your garden plot. Most people willingly offer a little compassion, or at the worst, the benefit of the doubt, and then it starts.
Sometimes your budding connection doesn't take root, and that's fine. 'Can' does not necessarily mean 'will,' but you dust yourself off, determine that you're okay, also that you're okay with yourself, and you start again. Flowery language aside, everyone wants the same things out of other people that you do, and you're just as capable of giving that to them as they are you. You are an inherently valuable human being.
'Sides all that, you've got us, and we value you as you are. I know times are tough now, and I'm sorry about that.
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My own minor sad is as follows:
I'm coming upon a crossroads in the next month or two here- when my contract lapses again in late June, I have to determine if I want to go forward with staying in New Zealand, as work is willing to take the steps to sponsor my visa, though that process usually takes several months. I am, however, far, far from home, and remarkably homesick (it comes it waves). My sister is with child and my parents aren't getting younger, and it would be nice to be involved again with my family. New Zealand is my doorway out of America (not many options for working holidays now, not skilled enough to work international), I like my work, I could have a career in the video game field, something I'd never fathomed being available to me. The wage is enough, but not stellar, and frankly, Auckland blows. I could be happy with my work, but could I be happy
here?If I go home, I could rest my travel-weary soul and start over again. If I stay here, I could live for tomorrow.
It's tough, eh. I'm a little weak-willed and poorly self-motivated, though, so I'd probably end up playing video games too long and pace too much, clutching my head, asking myself what I'm doing with my life or where my direction is. It's certainly happened before, heh.