i. whereaboots.

as of last thursday night, i've been on a break from life. mentally and geographically removed from berkeley, the people i see on a regular basis, the stresses of joblessness and teetering on financial doom, and all the feelings of detachment and inadequacy that thread through my every waking moment. yessir, i don't know why, but for some reason i just got tired of moping around, staring at walls and ceilings, going on unhelpful walks, fleeing to san francisco to create the illusion of having a life, and sleeping in as late as possible to avoid the day. maybe that's a life for most/some/none but it ain't for me.

it's been lovely. 'cept the couple days where i got sick as hell and had to take hourly 'business trips' to the toilet.

haven't done any hard thinking. haven't reflected or made plans. haven't had any revelations or epiphanies or any of that shit. it's been really enjoyable. but, of course, senses of urgency and restlessness are making me want to get back into things.

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ii. excerpts.

I think where the disconnect lies is that on the one hand, I am expected to project now where I see myself in years to come, to know beyond a doubt what will keep me happy and excited so that working never feels like work. But I don't feel like I know myself well enough to be certain of what this future looks like. On the other hand, being a dilettante is not an option. At some point, everyone sacrifices some degree of freedom and "fun" to make ends meet.

Where is the happy medium? Neither my parents nor I have the full answer. They want what's best for me, but they can't tell me what that will be. I want to find something that I can have fun with and be proud to call my profession, but I've been focusing too much on the negative question "Why hasn't everything fallen into place already?"

If there's one thing I have learned through the cathartic experience of writing this post, it's that life is a series of questions with multiple answers: if you get bogged down reading and re-reading the question, gearing up to take the test, you never get to the choosing part. And unfortunately, we're working against the clock. Maybe it is just about engaging with life and seizing each opportunity as it appears, even if you aren't sure what you want just yet. Finding your passion may just be about being open to each new experience, good or bad. Where should I get started?

..

Eventually I got the horrible advertising job, and a part of me had just given up. My soul was being sucked out on a daily basis in the corporate world, and I stopped caring. I had resigned myself to a passionless life in a boring office doing something I hated. It was the antithesis of a "thing." My life seemed more meaningless and purposeless than ever.
After I got laid off, I decided to stop. I was no longer going to try to figure out this "rest of my life" bullshit. Instead, it was about what was -next-. It was as simple as that. I was gonna treat life as the adventure I wanted it to be. I wanted to try and get as many experiences as possible under my belt before I was dead, and I didn't want to die in some office somewhere in the Financial District. Just working there was a death in itself.

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iii. i want a kindle.

i want a kindle.

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iv.

until next time!

7pm:


damn. got fired from my job today because i, essentially,
misplaced a couple pieces of paper.
'we can't be losing papers like these, we could get sued for malpractice!'
seemed logical enough, but i also feel there was an element of 'let's get this guy out of here so we don't have to buy a new desk for the new hire coming in next week.'

in any case, oh well.
life goes on.

i think it's funny, in a way.

funny that they tried so hard to get me to come back after i quit,
only to give me the boot a month later.

funny that just when i had figured out how to handle this job
i.e., not consider it a part of my 'life' but rather just something i have to do to stay afloat financially,
i get this shocking event that sends me into complete financial instability.

funny that once i was transferred to a new position with duties that actually involved a certain degree of creativity,
my inability to do the uncreative parts of the job screwed me over.

funny that i am fired two days before my probation period ends.

and, simply, it's just funny. lyk, haha funny.

---

based on the past couple days, one would think i would have had an extreme sobfest after getting fired.
but nope, not even a watery eye.
i think that says something about how unattached i was to the place to begin with.

still, though, sucks to not have a jearrb.

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now the fun part:
what do i do now?

past three months i've talked about doing things -- getting in m'car and driving away, becoming a 'drifter', becoming self-employed -- that i was prevented from doing mostly as a result of that job.
and now i don't have that job, so what now -- am i going to go fucking nuts, sell all my shit and hit the road?
doubtful, but i won't rule it out just yet.

i could always move back home.
i need to think a bit about what's really keeping me here.
and, more importantly, about why i don't want to go back home.
there's always the third option of moving somewhere completely different, but i haven't thought about that much at all yet.

once my last paycheck comes in i'll have about two grand in the bank.
not enough to be fucking around with, but enough to hold me over for a couple months.

yesterday my mom talked to me about how if i'm still unhappy with my job come january [lul] i could move back home to find something 'more in line with my interests'
and how i should do volunteer work to feel more fulfilled
and how i should consider going to grad school.

she doesn't know i don't have and never had any interest in my major in college [biology]
and that i'd join the peace corps if i could
and that i have no idea what i'd study in grad school.

or that i have a near-maxed credit card
or that i have had bipolar disorder for 4+ years and am quickly running out of medicine
or
my parents don't know a lot of things about me, actually... but that's another subject for another day.

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930pm:

well i'm not so calm about it anymore.

i don't want to go home
but there is very little keeping me in the bay area.
VERY little.

honestly, the fuck am i supposed to do now?
just suck it the hell up and try to find a new job i guess.

but then this is a sort of backhanded opportunity to go and try something different,
do something i really enjoy instead of throwing myself back into the nine-to-five grind.
i'd rather stay in and write stories all day, go out to shows and friends all night.
but i feel like that kind of life takes money.

---

just thinking out loud here;
i need to stop caring so much about work and money.
it's always fleeting anyway.
i should focus on what I want.
try to see this positively.
it's entirely possible to be looking for a job while still writing and going out and shit.

think i'm leaning towards going back home.
about 55/45.
because honestly,
it's just the smart thing to do.

although, the job market here is a bit better than back home
http://www.indeed.com/jobtrends/unemployment
i don't feel like that really factors in to my decision much;
the majority of available jobs are for 'niche' positions that require certain skills or experience,
and i haven't worked long enough or studied anything relevant that could be put to any real use.

i don't know if it's coming across or not but i'm really trying to keep my head up and see silver linings here.
as if multiple flakings and losing my wallet weren't enough to make for a shit week, though...
it's a bad time to be feeling lonely and cynical
and i am doing my damnedest to not let myself do that
but seeing little to persuade me to feel otherwise it's hard not to slip.

i'm going to try to enjoy myself this/next week
see some sights, do some shit, think some thoughts, and not think some thoughts.
maybe after that i'll be able to view my situation a little more clearly.
and if not... i'll just pack it up.
[i don't know what that means exactly]

ehh... some feedback here would be nice.

i don't know what this says, i sort of typed it out and let it go. i'll re-read it in the morning.
i think that if i re-read it now i would end up not posting it.
so i'm just going to do it now.
night.

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I know that I’m supposed to be a lot of things.

I’m supposed to be compassionate, a “healer.”
Supposed to be a sympathetic ear that’s always there to listen, a shoulder always there for your comfort.
A gentle, sensitive person who isn’t afraid to let that show, who doesn’t have to pretend to be hard-hearted just to seem more normal.
Someone who will give and give and not require that anyone gives back.
Living live for love and spreading happiness wherever possible.
Making people smile, making them laugh and appreciate what they have and how they can always be more than they are. Making them realize that most everybody makes a cage for themselves, hiding their real dreams and personalities because they’re not “acceptable” things to do.
Kind, selfless, free.

But I’m not that.

I’m just someone who feels bad about the littlest things.
I let the good things in other people’s lives make me feel jealous of what they have instead of appreciating and sharing their happiness.
I don’t act on opportunities to brighten days – those of others or my own – and instead let sadness linger so unnecessarily.
I am afraid to help other people because I have convinced myself that I will get nothing in return, that there will be no thanks at the end of it and I will be left to wonder how people could be so heartless.
I have been hurt on so many occasions – made to feel like I am the lowest priority, a speck of dust in their eyes, an afterthought – that I wonder whether my actions will make any impact at all.
My attempts at being sensitive and available to others have gone either unnoticed or misinterpreted, or thought of as “weird” because that’s not the personality that I typically show.

And maybe that’s the biggest problem of all.

I am afraid to be myself.
I am afraid to let people know that I am someone who cares about them, who, despite what my prior actions and words might have suggested, is genuinely interested in making sure that their lives stay afloat in the midst of stress and trying times

I don’t like who I am.
No, that’s not it.
I like who I am.
I just don’t like that people don’t know me.
They know someone distant, detached, cold. they think that because I wrap so much of my feelings in sarcasm and understatement that I must not care about much besides myself.

God, that’s not me.

I want to smile all the time.
And when the sadness comes, I want to be able to wash it away in silver linings and the promise of better days.

My idea of a perfect world is out of reach. I picture a world where no good deed goes unrecognized, and every bad deed is followed by amends.
I have to accept the world that is, and keep my perfect world tucked away for the occasional need to escape.
The world is all at once warm, cold, loving, bitter, judgmental, patient, confident and miserable.
There are no good people without the bad.
And the worst of us once held something good. And most still do, somewhere deep inside – perhaps permanently out of reach, but still there.

I don’t want to keep shielding myself from people.
I realize that it’s hard for me to open up to everybody, but I feel like I have to do so in order to keep my sanity.
I have been keeping myself inside this hard and heartless costume for such a long time. I don’t remember what it means to “be myself”, I don’t know if I’ve ever been myself.

I’m sure everybody struggles with this from time to time.
Or maybe they don’t.

I wish there were someone I could share this with, who would appreciate it and be glad that they read it and that I wrote it with them in mind.

Cheer up.
I need to try to fend off all the negative thoughts and influences in my life so that my real personality has room to grow.
Otherwise it’ll just slowly get swallowed up, trampled on, beaten down.
It will cower and run away, and it will bury itself so deep inside me that it will be permanently out of reach.

I don’t want that to happen.

I just need to feel appreciated.
I don’t mean it to be selfish.
I am not greedy for attention and praise.
I just need enough to get by.
I don’t expect it to just fall into my lap, even though I want it to. I know I have to be willing to put in the necessary effort.

I don’t know what to do, though.

I remember when I went through a short phase of letting my sensitive side show.
I would write notes to strangers down on their luck, and I would listen to and console my friends without suppressing anything.
I felt good about it, because I knew they needed what I was giving to them, and they would tell me they appreciated it.

It wouldn’t be right to ask myself “What’s happened to me?”
Nothing’s happened – it’s always been like this.

I don’t need to be someone else.
I need to stop being someone else.

The supposed happiness I get out of jokes at others’ expense is short-lived and usually regretted later.
The ego boost I seem to get whenever I compare myself to someone who is plainly having a worse day than I am dies quickly as well, probably because I – “me” – douse it as quickly as possible to prevent that kind of thinking from becoming dominant.

I don’t understand a lot of things, because I have never let myself come to terms with the world as it is.
I keep trying to force the world into this idealized mold I have in my head, refusing to accept that it will never be.

I’m tired.
I don’t know where this is going, anyway.

Well, I probably do – I’m just scared of what drastic changes have to come with it.