Too good to be true, too depressing to be fiction...
So it's been a while since I've done a serious update that wasn't full of cryptic words and generalities. Well, who’s to say that this isn't going to be exactly just that? I seriously can't tell you where this is headed but sit back and I'll tell you what exactly has been going on these past three months.
November was full of sleepless nights and the beginning of a dependency on books. One of my hard drives had a stroke and is actually in a coma currently. Not only did I lose a friend, but also my entire music collection. I read at least 5 books that month. I started writing in a physical journal at this point but the frequency of entries didn't stick too well. I stopped going to my personal computing class and only made an appearance to take the test. I'm a failure when it comes to English and so I deserved the F I got in the class. School ends pretty much at the end of the month.
December brings cold weather and a borrowed brown jacket. Andrew gets mad if anything brings me joy so I had to give the brown jacket up because "the roommate could come back to pick it up any day." CURRENT DAYS OF OCCUPANCY: 32. I decide to take a week off from things and try to get work done alone at the house in Austin. This however does not happen as planned and a week is lost. The trend of drinking alcohol increases with the days and I actually find myself driving places when I really shouldn't be. I received five books for Christmas.
A new year comes and an old one dies. People call this year the year of Science because it's been 100 years since Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity. What do people really know...? So begins the month of January: a month of thinking. I started getting back into a more natural feel by socializing with internet friends and working on websites. This only lasted for a few days though and then started feeling bad. I had a few bad dreams, one where I wrote this:
Jan. 8, 2005
[The dream started out as normal as other dreams really, that is, if most dreams are ever considered normal. Actually I think it started like a weird teeny bopper after school show. In fact I wasn't really in it. I was just sort of watching. Something about the younger daughter somehow making the older sister sad and then making up at the end. Strange how this would be in my dream. It quickly transitioned to my house in Belton. The way things were it would take place present day. No big stuff was in my room and there were big tubs. The kind you get at Wal-Mart. Huge Tupperware. Some kind of 'event' of sorts was happening. Relatives were over at the house. Lots of them, though I didn't see many, I had the feeling there was more. I could never see past my brother's room down the hall. I guess you could say it was fuzzy after that. My mom was outside talking to relatives. I just knew it. I overheard bits and pieces of conversation. I could tell that my mom had received a few gifts. They were more like things you bring relatives when you haven't seen them in a long time. An annoying aunt was trying to bother me and my brother, but we weren't having it. I started putting pieces of furniture in front of the door. My brother was amused. I tend to do dumb things like that to make my brother laugh. Sometimes it seems like he really connects with me. Eventually I open the door and then he disappears. I try to make a scene that I'm not having all this trouble and I decided to get in a tub (Wally world) and put the lid on over me. I hear the relatives talking about the gifts and my brother says something about not getting anything. My dad says something about getting a DVD. I think the exact thing he said was movie actually. He saw me get in the tub. He thought it was funny and wanted to show my mom, so he picks up the tub and starts walking. I tell him very seriously to put me down. I'm thinking that he can barely walk. I push on him and urge him to sit down. Why is there a seat there? At that point I know where I am. I'm in a dream. My dad can't walk. My dad is dead. I realized that with him looking into my eyes. I tell him I'm sorry and start crying. I hug him. Why was I sorry? He asks me f I'm okay. "Do I need to go home?" I imagine he means back to Austin, I tell him that my home is here with him. I just keep crying. To wake up in a dream, to know it's a dream. Why do we create these ultra fantasies? I felt utter and complete sadness at that moment. And then I woke up. I cried for about 10 minutes and then on and off randomly. What is it to fully understand that you are in a dream? Lately I've been thinking of death. What exactly is it? to fall asleep there are those hours where nothing happens and then sometimes you dream but mostly it's just you fall asleep. Darkness... and then you instantly wake up. To experience that darkness all the time, that nothingness; why? Are we experiencing death ever night?]
After that I had more and more difficulty falling asleep. I guess I developed a fear of sleeping. Part of me turned more toward books to find an answer to some of my questions. Books like 'The Elephant Vanishes' 'Sputnik Sweetheart' [Murakami] brought back memories of months past. Do you know what 'Sputnik' means in Russian? 'Traveling companion.' Sputnik makes me think of Laika, the dog. The man-made satellite streaking soundlessly across the blackness of outer space. The dark, lustrous eyes of the dog gazing out the tiny window. In the infinite loneliness of space, what could the dog possibly be looking at?
I think there's a line in the book that sums up how I feel sometimes...
[And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they're nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.]
Then came books that brought up thoughts of discontent for my fellow man and the rest of the world ['The Catcher in the Rye' Salinger], thoughts of loneliness and abandonment from loved ones and a deeper meaning of self-sacrifice ['The Metamorphosis' Kafka], and thoughts of why I should have to endure hardships in life if only to be rewarded by death and shunned by all around after I give my all for them ['Death of a Salesman' Miller]. I decided not to drink anymore for a while, because due to recent events it just seems to bring out these thoughts in all too public settings.
This pretty much brings you up to speed with current day George. I'm late for all my classes and I don't know how to get anything done, because I really don't care about anything now. I planned on talking about my new neighbors and my current job endeavors or my mission to build up my mp3 collection and how I found out that paying for a mp3 is kind of like sitting in your car with the seatbelt on using the wrong hand and thinking that's how it feels getting to second base, but I guess that will have to wait till later. I may seem happy sometimes, but I'm not really. Maybe for those few moments I get to get closer to certain people, but when all things are said and done and I'm driving away in my automobile in the rain, I'm back to my old self, fast asleep in the darkness of night.
November was full of sleepless nights and the beginning of a dependency on books. One of my hard drives had a stroke and is actually in a coma currently. Not only did I lose a friend, but also my entire music collection. I read at least 5 books that month. I started writing in a physical journal at this point but the frequency of entries didn't stick too well. I stopped going to my personal computing class and only made an appearance to take the test. I'm a failure when it comes to English and so I deserved the F I got in the class. School ends pretty much at the end of the month.
December brings cold weather and a borrowed brown jacket. Andrew gets mad if anything brings me joy so I had to give the brown jacket up because "the roommate could come back to pick it up any day." CURRENT DAYS OF OCCUPANCY: 32. I decide to take a week off from things and try to get work done alone at the house in Austin. This however does not happen as planned and a week is lost. The trend of drinking alcohol increases with the days and I actually find myself driving places when I really shouldn't be. I received five books for Christmas.
A new year comes and an old one dies. People call this year the year of Science because it's been 100 years since Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity. What do people really know...? So begins the month of January: a month of thinking. I started getting back into a more natural feel by socializing with internet friends and working on websites. This only lasted for a few days though and then started feeling bad. I had a few bad dreams, one where I wrote this:
Jan. 8, 2005
[The dream started out as normal as other dreams really, that is, if most dreams are ever considered normal. Actually I think it started like a weird teeny bopper after school show. In fact I wasn't really in it. I was just sort of watching. Something about the younger daughter somehow making the older sister sad and then making up at the end. Strange how this would be in my dream. It quickly transitioned to my house in Belton. The way things were it would take place present day. No big stuff was in my room and there were big tubs. The kind you get at Wal-Mart. Huge Tupperware. Some kind of 'event' of sorts was happening. Relatives were over at the house. Lots of them, though I didn't see many, I had the feeling there was more. I could never see past my brother's room down the hall. I guess you could say it was fuzzy after that. My mom was outside talking to relatives. I just knew it. I overheard bits and pieces of conversation. I could tell that my mom had received a few gifts. They were more like things you bring relatives when you haven't seen them in a long time. An annoying aunt was trying to bother me and my brother, but we weren't having it. I started putting pieces of furniture in front of the door. My brother was amused. I tend to do dumb things like that to make my brother laugh. Sometimes it seems like he really connects with me. Eventually I open the door and then he disappears. I try to make a scene that I'm not having all this trouble and I decided to get in a tub (Wally world) and put the lid on over me. I hear the relatives talking about the gifts and my brother says something about not getting anything. My dad says something about getting a DVD. I think the exact thing he said was movie actually. He saw me get in the tub. He thought it was funny and wanted to show my mom, so he picks up the tub and starts walking. I tell him very seriously to put me down. I'm thinking that he can barely walk. I push on him and urge him to sit down. Why is there a seat there? At that point I know where I am. I'm in a dream. My dad can't walk. My dad is dead. I realized that with him looking into my eyes. I tell him I'm sorry and start crying. I hug him. Why was I sorry? He asks me f I'm okay. "Do I need to go home?" I imagine he means back to Austin, I tell him that my home is here with him. I just keep crying. To wake up in a dream, to know it's a dream. Why do we create these ultra fantasies? I felt utter and complete sadness at that moment. And then I woke up. I cried for about 10 minutes and then on and off randomly. What is it to fully understand that you are in a dream? Lately I've been thinking of death. What exactly is it? to fall asleep there are those hours where nothing happens and then sometimes you dream but mostly it's just you fall asleep. Darkness... and then you instantly wake up. To experience that darkness all the time, that nothingness; why? Are we experiencing death ever night?]
After that I had more and more difficulty falling asleep. I guess I developed a fear of sleeping. Part of me turned more toward books to find an answer to some of my questions. Books like 'The Elephant Vanishes' 'Sputnik Sweetheart' [Murakami] brought back memories of months past. Do you know what 'Sputnik' means in Russian? 'Traveling companion.' Sputnik makes me think of Laika, the dog. The man-made satellite streaking soundlessly across the blackness of outer space. The dark, lustrous eyes of the dog gazing out the tiny window. In the infinite loneliness of space, what could the dog possibly be looking at?
I think there's a line in the book that sums up how I feel sometimes...
[And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they're nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.]
Then came books that brought up thoughts of discontent for my fellow man and the rest of the world ['The Catcher in the Rye' Salinger], thoughts of loneliness and abandonment from loved ones and a deeper meaning of self-sacrifice ['The Metamorphosis' Kafka], and thoughts of why I should have to endure hardships in life if only to be rewarded by death and shunned by all around after I give my all for them ['Death of a Salesman' Miller]. I decided not to drink anymore for a while, because due to recent events it just seems to bring out these thoughts in all too public settings.
This pretty much brings you up to speed with current day George. I'm late for all my classes and I don't know how to get anything done, because I really don't care about anything now. I planned on talking about my new neighbors and my current job endeavors or my mission to build up my mp3 collection and how I found out that paying for a mp3 is kind of like sitting in your car with the seatbelt on using the wrong hand and thinking that's how it feels getting to second base, but I guess that will have to wait till later. I may seem happy sometimes, but I'm not really. Maybe for those few moments I get to get closer to certain people, but when all things are said and done and I'm driving away in my automobile in the rain, I'm back to my old self, fast asleep in the darkness of night.