Outside

Drizzle.

A passing car.

Bees.

A distant tractor.

Other miscellaneous farming traffic.

Neighbours garage. (he's a mechanic)

Other neighbours yard. (seeems to be a permanent building site)

Water in the gutter.

HUMID. (it's so friggin hot today)

Sitting in the porch.

Raindrops on my feet.

No birdsong.

Worlds

I had a dream the other night where I was hanging out with my cousin and his girlfriend, and the night sky became a mirror image of planet Earth. It was more than an image, it was the Earth. It was as if the Earth had been turned inside out so that I, sitting in Ireland, could look up and see the United States of America. I only remembered this now and it's still hitting me like a hammerblow. I am exhilarated by the concept.

Just Dropping A Note

My writing style is incredibly immature. I'm not sure if it's that I've read and written so much that I've developed a sensitivity to correct and strict phrasings (and the lack I seem to perceive), or that I'm just a bit shit.

It could be the very personal way that I write, more conversational than reviewed script that's been edited to some standard of professionalism. I would certainly say I prefer it that way.

Could you say you're as uncomfortable with your style as I am with mine? Do you even write enough to justify stressing over it? Heck, when was the last time you read a book? Seriously, go read! Now!

Literature

Just finished reading "The Diamond Age", a ferociously interesting tome penned by one Neal Stephenson that discusses the evolution of nanotechnology in future years, and dresses it in a story consisting of a myriad emotional and intellectual textures based primarily in Shanghai some decades into the future. Published in 1995, I feel it posesses tremendous insight into how nanotechnology, nanobots (or "nanosites") could one day be integrated into society.

I had my doubts about this book when I started out, unimpressed with some phrasing, though in particular my beef was with the naming of the inital main character "Bud" and his aquisition of a "Skull Gun". The name leaves little to the imaginaton. I felt this to be even a barbaric way of describing events, the first decade of pages seemed to lack too many IQ points and my interest waned.

However, I stuck with it, learning that the author chose to write as his characters thought, which turned out to be integral to how one received the text. This is probably an old trick and fundamental to novel-writing, but hey, I'm approaching these things as an average Joe.

I can't really go into the analysis any deeper than that, things get pretty complicated very quickly, and just as interesting.

A truely wonderful and deeply satisfying read.

OK! It's time to set some goals. I have mixed ideas about what it means to set goals, which I will go into some other time. Right now though, I have all this time and energy that is going to waste. SO.

Daily goals:

- Go for a cycle as soon as I get up, regardless of what time I do get up. (I'm going to let behavioural conditioning sort itself out while I learn things.)

- Keep meals square and threefold. (content to be established each mealtime)

- Tidy the place every morning.

Long term goals:

- Learn piano

- Learn guitar

- Establish a decent grounding in HTML

- Establish a decent gorunding in another computing language

- Read more

- Blog regularly

- Hone all of the above skills.

I think this blog has been introspective largely because I don't actually do anything. That sentence was ridiculous, of course it's introspective because I don't do anything. When everything is stripped away, all you have left is yourself. I have worked backwards in this regard.

Now I'll have all this stuff to talk about! Yay! Don't worry, I won't give you a blow-by-blow account of it. I might eventually even get a domain and set my shit up there. Won't that be cool? Fuck yeah it will!

Believe in what you want.

I do a lot of moping on this blog, but really, I'm in a pretty decent emotional state. I consider myself pretty balanced and well-rounded. What I put up here are just the major things on my mind.

I do ask the question: am I writing to myself, or the great Anonymous? The great Dark of the Internet?

I'm writing to myself of course. I don't tell anyone about this blog, and I hope they never see it. Why put it online and not in a diary then? Childishness. All is done in a broad background hope that people will see it. I touched on this in an older post, I don't mind complete strangers reading up about my experiences but I dread someone I know, someone I may meet again soon, finding it.
I fear they may think differently of me.
I fear the opposite at the same time, that they might be worried for me and wish to talk about my personal problems, and I really don't like talking about my problems because I sound crazy. Well, less crazy, more pathetic.

Again, why the hell make it public. Psychosis I suppose, I'm just mental.

I'm totally trying to save face with this post, I just joined Google+ and someone is bound to stumble upon this blog sooner or later. Oh well.

It might be nice?

And, of course, y'know, sex. . . .

I love all the stereotypical lovey-dovey stuff of relationships. I absolutely love it. The nicknames, the exclamation of incomprehensible nonsense words whenever you see your "other", the hugging, the face-face touching, all of that pure wonton desire to express the joy you feel in your heart of this persons' existence.

I fucking love it.

Real Turbulence.

I love my friends.

A lot of the time I wonder how the heck I have any friends. I am an unbelievably boring person. I mean God help the woman that ends up my girlfriend.

However, thinking on it, no girl in their right mind would consider maintaining a relatively long-term relationship with me. It just can't happen. This is something that, by and large, I have come to accept. Women are automatically not romantically interested in me, I'm not boyfriend material, and I think that everyone has that innate sense to know that what they are looking for in a boyfriend/partner is not to be found in my self.

Depressing? Yes.

Reason to give up hope? Possibly, considering that all I've ever said or thought on this blog revolves around the concept that happiness is only found through sharing. But I do enjoy living.

I want to care for my friends, I love looking after them. I love being there, maybe not giving advice (merely because theres very little experience I can give advice on), but being there. And I think this care stems from not ever having had a girlfriend; I have no-one special to care for.

So, I make everyone special and care for them.


I have these ideas about why girls just don't see me as boyfriend material because I have a lot of girl-friends and maintain strong emotional bonds with them, but it's been obvious if I ever try to get closer to any of them that they just aren't interested.


This'd all probably be easier to think about if there weren't people having relationships and sex all over this damn place.

Turbulence.

Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, as we expect some mild disturbances in the journey ahead.

Or rather, we're experiencing them right now. I guess that previous statement was kinda retarded. Sorry about that.

Why the fuck am I apologising? I'm the fucking captain. You people'll hang on every word I say, and believe it. If I decided to plunge this piece of shit plane into the ocean right now and called it an "Emegency Landing", you'd all die knowing I was a fucking hero trying to save evey one of your stupid fucking lives.

Fuckin' retards.

Doing Alright,

Not quite so miserable as my last post!

I'm feeling pretty good actually. Those November emotions have for the most part passed and left behind a more aware and mature me. I'm still working a few kinks out, and they'll eventually fade away.

I think the real healing came from a friend recently who, understanding my situation, and understanding what he was saying, told me point blank: "Forget about her. You've got to." For this, I applaud him. I am not good at making decisions (which is quite evident, considering how long I've been keeping this nonsense in my life), so those words were something I genuinely needed.

Looking back, I can think of a couple of reasons why I kept the idea of her so close to my heart, but I think it was overall an elaborate fantasy, and not one that could be realised. It was never going to happen.

I have to be free of that self-inflicted poison, to attend college, and to uphold friendships.
I have newer issues to face, and barriers to overcome.
I have to live, now, in this reality.

Sure, I still wonder if I'll find someone whom I can share with, but it's not something that I'm going to allow to become a driving factor in my life. That time will come, and in the meantime I want to chill, hang out, and stay alive in the ways that I deem best.

So now I'm sitting alone on the floor of the apartment on a sunny day, listeing to Jimmy Eat World, and watching the clouds pass over the mountains.

This is heaven.