Taking the Easy Way Out

_easyway_out @ 2004-03-20T02:13:00

2004-03-20T09:13:46Z

Is there anything that hurts more than a broken heart? Well if there is, I haven't felt it. Mind you, I've lived a fairly sheltered life so I'm sure (I hope) there are a million things that hurt a million times more. I want to feel every single one. That way I can say "Hey, a broken heart wasn't so bad! Being (insert grotesque and obscene form of torture here) was far worse!" I think the only way to numb the pain is to experience pain far worse. I think the most insane thought I've ever had, or at least the most uncharacteristic thought, was:"Hey if my mom dies, I won't feel nearly so bad about that girl!"
Although it was twisted, sick, and wrong, it was still true. And it puts things in perspective as well. Check this out:Even though my heart was broken, and I'm sad, depressed and alone... Things can always be worse! MUCH worse in fact. There is far more to life than that one girl. There are other girls. I still have my family. My health. My friends. My schoolwork. The list goes on forever. When it's put in perspective like that, losing the girl you love seems completely insiginificant. I don't need her so that I can be happy, I can be completely happy without her. And she can be happier with that "stacked" bartender with the "dreamy" eyes and "cute ass". So I propose a toast. A toast to her happiness. I hope she's happy for the rest of her life, and never looks back and thinks of me.

I sure as hell won't be thinking about her.

_easyway_out @ 2004-02-05T23:42:00

2004-02-06T06:42:42Z

Yea today was one of those days. Like seriously I had the absolute worst day ever. I completely sucked ass on ALL my midterms, which pretty much determines the course of the rest of my life. All day I've been thinking about what I'm going to do now, and how everything I've wanted to do with my life is now totally fucked all because of three exams.
It's not that I didn't know the material, (seriously ask me anything about determining bond prices or Fayol's 14 points or management structure) I just totally blanked under the stress. Stupid stress. It's supposed to be your body's way of helping you get out of tough situations, but I think it does the opposite. Stupid body. Someday I'll find out how to escape its wrath. Until that day though, I think I need to find a better way of dealing with stress. Well actually, I did find one, but the irony is that it was this coping method that caused me to get far behind on studying and made me even more stressed. I started writing songs again, after a few months of taking a break. I really like these new ones, they're a bit more refined and complex than my old ones. After I finish these I'll have about 12 done so it'll be a whole CD! Hooray!
The songs I've let people hear have gotten pretty good reviews so far. I never tell anyone they're by me until after they tell me what they think, otherwise they won't give me their honest opinion. Anyway 3 people have been excited and said they want to buy the CD, a few others thought it was pretty good, and a couple were just like "meh"... but hey... that's like... THEIR opinion.

_easyway_out @ 2004-02-02T23:38:00

2004-02-03T06:38:45Z

Once again it feels necessary to bestow my incessant ramblings upon the world. The usual topic of love is on the docket today. Did I mention I'm in love? I did? You want me to shut up about it? Well I would, but then I'd have nothing to write about.

Today I talked with her about wedding rings. No, we're not getting married just yet. She told me that the only wedding band she would accept would be one made of white gold or platinum. Apparently gold is too tacky for her tastes. Now of course I didn't agree with this, seeing as I'm a guy. I told her I'd be happy with a piece of tape wrapped around my finger. Seeing as she's a girl, she didn't agree with this. It's not that I'm cheap of course, if I had the money I'd buy a platinum ring wrapped in dodo feathers and I'd get the Pope to marry us at the North Pole if that's what would make her happy. I just think that if you're truly in love, the ring is such a minor detail that you'd be happy with anything you get. She told me that buying a platinum ring is a sign of financial stability and that you shouldn't be married unless you're financially stable first. But I know a lot of people who are financially stable but can't afford platinum rings. I told her this, and then proceeded to berate her about how shallow she is.
It has come to my attention during the writing of this paragraph that my story has no particular point at all, other than the obvious "money isn't everything" thing. Anyway, that's all I have to write so now I'm going to get back to learning about money. Ironic, no?

You... Lost and only

2004-01-30T09:51:06Z

So I've had yet another unproductive night. My homework burden is quickly become unmanageable and the stress is starting to get to me, but I can't motivate myself to begin tackling it. Midterms start next week so I really need to get cracking. I keep telling myself to "Remember the squirrel!" Anyone who's heard the new White Stripes CD will know what I'm talking about, but if not I'll tell you what it means: Basically a woman was watching a squirrel and saw how he was storing up acorns for the winter. She thought to herself "If that squirrel can get out there and gather up all those acorns, then I can solve all my problems too." She broke up all her problems into tiny acorns, and solved each problem one acorn at a time. It's good advice. Too bad I'm too lazy to follow it.

I told my friend this advice the other day. She knew what I was talking about, since she too has heart the CD. She happens to be the object of my affection as well, albeit unbeknownst to her. The flirting is becoming almost rampant, and it's nearly embarrassing because I feel like I need to do something about it. I need to either get the guts up or back off completely, because what I'm doing is killing me. Although when I think about it, I haven't felt this happy for more than half a year. I'm stressed out from school, my parents are on my back, I'm ugly and lacking in confidence, I'm not particularily good at anything... But I'm happy. It's an inexplicable feeling, usually when I think I'm happy, it could be described as a numbness, as if I don't feel anything. But the way I feel now is true happiness. It's always at the times when life has you down so low you can't see any way out that things turn around. The strange thing is that nothing has happened to me to make me change my perspective on life. Everything is exactly the same as it used to be, only my state of mind has changed. I think I finally chiselled that block in my head into something beautiful. I hope it's something that can be admired and can make other people happy too, but only time will tell.

That last paragraph isn't entirely true, but I'm in a Kerouacian mood, so I'm going to edit as little as possible. It's not entirely true because things have changed. I stopped taking sleeping pills for the past few nights. I haven't smoked up in weeks and weeks. I'm sleeping better and eating better. The thing about life that I find most odd is how physical things that are seemingly unrelated to your emotional well-being ARE related. Eat better food, feel more happy. It makes me question the whole notion of reality. If how you perceive the world can be altered based on you eating a healthy meal instead of fast food, then which perception is right? Are either correct? Maybe the only true way to perceive reality is with the aid of psychedelic drugs, because our mind can't comprehend the world in its natural state. Who knows, but it's freaking me out.

Here's something else. I've been having a reoccuring dream about that girl. I'm sitting on a bench in a park in what I think is New York. There's someone sitting beside me, and she is sitting on the other side of me. The sun is rising directly behind me casting the shadows of me, the stranger and the girl onto the pavement in front of us. I'm looking at the shadows and I see her elongated shadow arm reach behind me. I turn to face her and I can see the scene I have just described in her eyes, only the stranger is missing. Then she closes her eyes and just as she does, the sun rises directly above us, as if it's a spotlight and shines brightly and hotly on our faces as our lips move closer and closer. The heat grows more intense until the moment our lips meet and then the whole world exhales and we're enveloped in a darkness so complete that it drowns out the sounds of our breathing. It's like we're the only two people in the whole world. Then the world inhales again and the stars glimmer overhead and the moon reflects off apartment buildings, illuminating the entire park in a greenish glow. I turn my head to survey the scene, and when I look back, she's gone. That's when I wake up, and I always have this feeling like I had just found the meaning of life, and then completely forgotten it altogether.

It's a dream I'd rather not have. It's torturing my heart; sometimes throughout the day, that feeling returns. The parts of the dream that are 'good' only make my longing for her even worse. Once I tried writing a song about it. The music perfectly conveyed what the dream was like, but I couldn't get the lyrics down. I don't write songs anymore.

_easyway_out @ 2004-01-28T01:36:00

2004-01-28T08:36:40Z

Before I started writing this journal I promised myself not to write about depression. Everyone's depressed, everyone has problems. I didn't want my journal to make me seem like I was just another depressed teenager. The problem is, that's what I am. It's not major depression or anything, I can still function quite normally most of the time, but there's always something else going on in the back of my mind. Something that makes me feel like I'm not the same as everyone else. It festers in the brain like an untreated wound, and sometimes the infection spreads to the rest of my brain. Those are the times when I feel like everyone's judging me, the times when I feel alone even when I'm with my friends, the times when I wish I wasn't such a chicken and could stop myself from breathing long enough so that the infection won't bother me anymore. No one knows I feel like this. I know people have suspisions though, like my mom and some of my friends. But they don't really know what's going on.

It's strange. I don't even believe in depression. I believe that it's all just in your head, and if you take the proper steps to make it go away, it will. It's all in your head. I tell myself that a hundred times a day, but it doesn't make it stop. I think of it like a block of granite in my head. If I keep chiseling away at the block, telling myself I'm alright and that nothing's as bad as I think it is, then eventually that block of granite will take the shape or a dove, or maybe a beautiful woman, or anything else that would make me happy when I look at it. Or maybe the block will just shatter and fall away.

I've thought many times about taking some medication. Maybe some Zoloft or some Prozac or whatever it is they give you would cover it up with chemicals. But is the problem really gone then? Or is it still there, still screaming but drowned out by the louder sounds of a symphony playing Pachbel's Canon? I'm sure a doctor would tell you that since depression is just a chemical imbalance, it's the former. But I'll know it's the latter. Even though I won't hear it, I'll still know it's there. I don't want to take any medication. I'm not scared of them or anything, I medicate myself in other ways. Everyone medicates themselves, don't let them tell you they don't. Some people take antidepressants, some people take sedatives, some people turn on the TV, some people eat. They're all just medicating themselves. Some are just better ways of doing it than others. I find watching TV and movies far more effective at helping me cope than popping pills. Happy movies make me want to live life again, and emulate the character's happiness. Sad movies make me see that everyone is far worse off than I am. I suppose I'm being hypocritical though, since I have a tendency to smoke weed when I'm sad, or to drink, or to take sleeping pills. That stuff just doesn't feel the same as taking a real antidepressant. But I haven't smoked up in weeks, and I don't intend to do it ever again. I need to find a better way to medicate myself.

Maybe I need to start working out. People tell me that that gives you energy and makes you happy. I just don't have the willpower to get off my ass and do it.

Yo Homiez, what da haps?

2004-01-25T22:50:45Z

The other night I went to the casino with my friends. As usual, I won some money, about 50 bucks. I was rather pleased with myself, since that $50 was more than enough to fund my drinking for the night. After we were all good and wasted, we decided to go to McDonald's. We were waiting in the drive-thru, and we noticed that there was only one guy working. We felt very sorry for this poor fellow since there was a line up of around 10 cars, and he was frantically running around trying to keep up. Remembering my previous journal entry, I suddenly began feeling generous. I had 20 bucks sitting in my wallet. I had just won that money at the casino. That poor guy in the drive-thru window obviously needed the 20 bucks far more than I did. So, I gave it to him. Only after deciding to give him the money did we find out that he's stuck at that job because he has to support a family and he can't find another job that late at night. I know that money will go much farther for him than it ever would for me, since I am rather frivolous with my cash.

Soon afterwards, my friends were taking back all their comments about how I was such a jerk and how I was an asshole all the time. They said I was awfully generous and that I should feel good about myself. Of course, I do feel good about myself, but I don't want to. It's selfish. If you perform a charitable act, it should be for the other person, not for you. If I did something nice for someone else every day, sure I'd be a nice guy, but if I'm only doing it to make myself feel good, then really I'm only being nice for selfish reasons.

I felt very awkward when my friends started complimenting me on my generosity. I didn't want it to appear as though I had given that man my money knowing that they'd see me differently, I did it purely because I knew that he could use that money far more than I. I've spoken before about the girl I'm madly in love with, well of course she witnessed my good deed, and I know she sees me differently. However I'm still undecided if that is a good or bad thing. I don't want to change a selfless act into a selfish one. I think I would rather have her despise me than be selfish. I'm just not sure if that's at all possible.

That night made me think about a lot of things. Is it possible for anyone to perform a truly selfless act? Or is every action you make in some way selfish? Right now I'm leaning towards the latter. Although we'd all like to think we're capable of doing something selfless, in the end we gain some benefit from any charitable action. Mother Theresa dedicated her whole life to helping people, which undeniably makes her a good person, but can it be denied that her motives were at least partly selfish? If helping people is what makes her happy, then this must be true. However, if she hated every minute of what she did, but did it anyway, would this make her more selfless?

I don't know where I'm going with this, but it really has me questioning the real motives behind people's actions.

Another day, another heartbreak

2004-01-20T09:48:09Z

I don't want this whole journal to be a depressing collecion of stories and anectodes. That's not a proper description of my life. But lately everything's depressing. Plus I bet it's more fun to read anyway, it makes you feel like you're peering into my life, and learning something that maybe you shouldn't. It's voyeuristic and somewhat thrilling to find out the deep dark secrets about someone. Well that's how I always felt when I read other people's. But if they didn't want you to know these things, why would they post them on the internet?

Anyway, I'm in love. I'm completely head over heels in love and I can't stop myself no matter how hard I try. And believe me, I've tried. Oh lordy how I've tried! I think love is God's cruel joke on the world. He sees some poor sap fall in love and he laughs at you for being so vain. He knows what's going to happen to you in the end. He knows you're going to end up feeling much worse than you did before you fell in love, but he watches as you're filled with joy and you build up your hopes, and then laughs as you fall into the hole you've been digging yourself.
Love is like a mine. You dig and dig and keep searching for gold, but when you finally find some, you realize you're buried deep in the earth and surrounded by carbon monoxide gas. Well that's what it feels like to me.
Don't mind my amazingly negative outlook on love, I'm not like that all the time you know. Most of the time, but not all the time. Actually the times when I'm not like that are when i'm around her. She makes be believe that maybe things aren't as bad as they seem. Maybe I'm not who I think I am. She tells me about things I never knew existed. She puts me in my place; no matter how much it hurts me sometimes, I know I deserve it. It's such a cliche, but it's like she completes me. I wish I had a better way to say that. The only problem is, I don't know if she feels the same way. I have a fairly good idea that she does, but I can never be sure. Friendship is a huge barrier. I can't tell her how I feel at the risk of ruining our friendship, and I would assume the same goes for her if she really does feel the same.
This whole post is is one contradiction after another, but that's the way my brain works.

The fact is, there's more to life than love. Once upon a time I thought the purpose of life was to find love and be happy forever. Now I'm not quite so naive. I'd find much more satisfaction in helping other people. I think that would make me truly happy. The purpose of life is to make as many people happy as you possibly can. It's a utilitarian point of view, but I truly believe it. Although I believe it, I'm doing a terrible job at it. My track record in the happiness department is deplorable. One time I signed up to volunteer at the soup kitchen. Then my girlfriend dumped me and I got all selfish and depressed so I quit. Someday I'm going to be a very rich man. A very rich and powerful man, and I will employ thousands of people. I'm going to donate millions to charities, and make sure all my workers are happy and well paid. I have big plans for myself. Maybe it sounds like a pipe dream, but just you wait. When you see my name at the top of the Fortune 500, then you'll believe me. Anyway all I really want is to be in a position where I can truly change people's lives for the better. Police officers, firemen, doctors, nurses... They're all great, but I'm no good at any of those things. I'd rather be the one who builds a free clinic, or sets up community events and crime prevention programs, maybe I'll be the one who donates the final million that those scientists needed to cure cancer.

You know, there actually is one thing I'm doing to make people happier. I'm trying to become a living donor. If someone needs my kidney, they can have it, no strings attached. Just as long as you're not a junkie or have otherwise abused your body, or if you're really old. I'd donate my heart too, but I'm pretty sure I need that! Or maybe not, since it's just going to get broken anyway.

_easyway_out @ 2004-01-11T23:53:00

2004-01-12T07:13:36Z

Currently I'm procrastinating. Tons to do, not enough time to do it in, but here I am nonetheless. Typing away in a journal no one will read. Maybe typing will get me motivated to do some actual work. Maybe it'll while away the hours until I go to bed, successfully putting off work for another day.
Honestly I'm aiming for the latter. The sooner this weekend is over the better. I did not enjoy a single moment of it in the least. First off I couldn't get into a show at a bar I wanted to see. Then we got busted by the cops while smoking up in my friend's car. The next day, work was no picnic, but I won't go into details. But the part that was the worst was something one of my friends told me. Actually I'm a little undecided on that last statement still; I have this undeniable feeling that what she told me will translate into a life-altering change for me. Here's what happened:

I was telling her about my terrible terrible weekend, and about how I wanted very badly to stop smoking weed. I've tried to quit a couple times, but I'm always tempted again after a couple weeks. I told her the reason I couldn't quit was because we could never find anything better to do, which I freely admit is rather sad and pathetic. Her advice was to find new friends. Logical advice, obvious advice... But not coming from someone who's known me for 5 years or more. She knows I'm a complete introvert, she knows she's probably the last person I've become friends with, she knows I have a very difficult time making new friends. As the conversation progressed, it began to make sense. Turns out she wasn't giving advice, it was more of a personal attack. She was insulting me about that which I am most sensitive. She began to speak with an angry tone, and asked me if I liked being antisocial, or if things were just like that.

I couldn't come up with a reply. I've never considered myself antisocial, but it got me thinking. Maybe that's how everyone else sees me. They don't see me as shy and introverted, they just see me as antisocial. Anyway what I learned tonight was that even those who I considered to be my friends see me as antisocial, and I can react in one of two ways. First off, I can prove them right and distance myself from them as much as possible. Second, I can prove them wrong and try to change myself and make new friends and go to parties and hang out with other people and go on dates etc etc. Alternatively, I suppose, I could do nothing and stick with the status quo. My friends will keep seeing me as an antisocial dickwad and I can continue on oblivious. Sadly, I think the first option is most viable.

At first I thought this would be a difficult road to go down, but upon further thought, it's not so difficult at all. In fact, it's not so different from how things are now. I can't relate to my friends anymore, we don't share many of the same interests. When we're together we either smoke weed or watch TV. We never actually DO anything. No parties, no bars, nothing constructive, nothing destructive, nothing bettering, nothing entertaining. Just TV or weed. So, now that I'm faced with the choice of TV and weed or sitting at home, the latter is a much better choice.
So it's settled. From this moment on, I am a social hermit. Now let's just see how long this lasts.