Bittersweet
So, I'd like to start this off with something light hearted, potentially could have been life threatening, but overall, just kind of cool.
last night I got to work at 11:47, two minutes past scheduled as usual, but to honor the occasion was a spectacle that could have been cooler but thirty minutes prior. a uhaul truck exploded in the Conoco parking lot behind the store. when I arrived, there were flashing lights and potent smells. James had taken a picture of the fire with his poor camera skills and a cellphone, still amusing. our back room was off limits due to stench. the truck had five kegs of diesel fuel in its cargo, which, somehow, blew up. apparently you can't even recognize the frame of the vehicle anymore. luckily, or perhaps not, the station did not blow up, and I had to smell diesel all night, which gave me a headache. so that's probably the only part of this post people will care about, the rest will be more confusing ranting.
so, I don't know if it's something about winter, or a song, or myself, but I've found myself remembering strange things lately. not so much a full colored memory with surround sound and a narrator, but rather more like a revived sense. to explicate, a scent, a perfume to be exact, has teased me this morning. now, I know I didn't smell it on anybody, because I was around old people that smell... like old people. this smell belonged to someone who has been important to me for a long time, whom I haven't seen for quite some time, and honestly, only smelled like this once that I remember, and that was our first meeting. I remembered the feeling of a touch, and the scent in the air, nothing more, but it was physically surreal.
this all happened while I was driving home today, watching the snow wisp across the road in a chaotic dance with the winds provoked by speeding cars. now, I don't know fully why, but I can make several educated guesses which I won't be sharing, but I randomly felt depressed and guilty. depression is a feeling I am quite familiar with, despite how some have come to perceive me or assume isn't really possible, but as others would say is obvious, I've been depressed for a majority of my life that I can actually remember, a bit less of late, because I've had other problems to occupy my wandering mind. but the snow traps your thoughts. the drifting flakes entrap you in yourself, and for me, that's a dangerous place for several reasons. but this time, it was just a smell. guilt, on the other hand, I don't really feel. some call that callous or say I'm an asshole because of it, but honestly, go fuck yourself, guilt is overrated and ruins people far more than it helps "make you a better person." once you're guilty you're a self-absorbed-wrist-cutting-twit. I understand why we should feel it, and I understand that in some cases I should too, but I don't care, say all you want about how I've betrayed or wronged you, didn't pay enough attention, or abandoned you, I won't care and your sob story will only strengthen whatever lie you are feeding yourself. just know that what I did was for me, not for you or because of you, we live isolated lives now. just like that smell. it was a part of my life, and now, it's a fragrance lost in time. coincidence? no. it happens all the time. things move on. I've moved on. but I hang on to every word, cling to every transparent memory that I can still imagine.
I remember peoples eyes. I'll forget your name, I'll forget all the wrongs you cause me, but I'll always remember your eyes and all the truth etched in them. I don't care how good of a liar you are or what you think, your eyes will always betray you. I hate remembering eyes, they're spheres of sorrow and malice entwined in a love affair more twisted than Fluffy.
honestly, I can't hold on to everything I wish I could, I let go willingly and close far more doors at the request of pathetic actions. I remember, once I explained a concept of a hallway to a few people, they know the system, but they willingly shut the doors and they still blame me. I find it amusing, but that makes me more of an ass. yes, I'll admit I'm an ass, I've never thought of myself as a good person, and when people try and convince themselves and me that I am, I want to laugh, because in the end, I have to want to be one to be one. my mentality alone won't allow it. I'll die for my sins, just as anyone will, but will I got to hell for them? according to some drunks I have nothing to worry about, for I am "cool and a satanist" like they are, I just haven't realized it yet.
I've come to terms with what I am, but I've noticed no one else really wants to, or they think they should spend their time defining who other people are instead of themselves. what in this world, other than the fact we are the only things our own eyes don't see properly, gives us the right to dictate how everything else is? because I see certain things in you, can I say you're one way alone? yes, I can, I can say whatever I want but it'll accomplish nothing but perhaps some guilt or hostility. we'll cast judgments, opinions, and hypocrisy, and deny any that come our way. why do you think that matters? everyone is the center of their own universe, so stop thinking your opinion matters to them. you're just ash in their eyes waiting to crumble with time.
lately, I have had little time off work, and I am isolated from practically everyone I know. I work an entirely different shift and live in a literally darker world. I see the one I live with for a few hours every now and then, sleep alone and eat alone, I work alone and irritated. I clench my jaw a lot and I am very tense. my family has moved away again, they've gone "home", a concept I've never really understood due to having too many. this is not to blame or state I miss them, but rather to observe this solitude. I see people I consider friends scarcely, due to them being day dwellers and spawners. is anything wrong with that? no, people grow and live for themselves and as themselves. that's how adulthood is, you spend it alone and surrounded by a fake family, your coworkers, and you have a warm bed, sometimes, waiting for you. physically, I know myself and an embrace. but is it something worthy of guilt to remember? who cares. it is kind of like it was last year on a level of interaction, I survive in my own little world and interact on random occasions. I'm quite alright with this way of life until it is brought to my attention and deliberated. the best part about this, would be to put it into the mindset of a "high school" drama, where suddenly my friends and family shouldn't love me or care about me anymore because I don't leave messages on their myspace or call. and for the record, that's a dirty word, myspace. makes your skin crawl, it's like saying Mufasa.
some day I'll find my way back to life, but it will not be amidst the falling snow. these sky's are too gray.
last night I got to work at 11:47, two minutes past scheduled as usual, but to honor the occasion was a spectacle that could have been cooler but thirty minutes prior. a uhaul truck exploded in the Conoco parking lot behind the store. when I arrived, there were flashing lights and potent smells. James had taken a picture of the fire with his poor camera skills and a cellphone, still amusing. our back room was off limits due to stench. the truck had five kegs of diesel fuel in its cargo, which, somehow, blew up. apparently you can't even recognize the frame of the vehicle anymore. luckily, or perhaps not, the station did not blow up, and I had to smell diesel all night, which gave me a headache. so that's probably the only part of this post people will care about, the rest will be more confusing ranting.
so, I don't know if it's something about winter, or a song, or myself, but I've found myself remembering strange things lately. not so much a full colored memory with surround sound and a narrator, but rather more like a revived sense. to explicate, a scent, a perfume to be exact, has teased me this morning. now, I know I didn't smell it on anybody, because I was around old people that smell... like old people. this smell belonged to someone who has been important to me for a long time, whom I haven't seen for quite some time, and honestly, only smelled like this once that I remember, and that was our first meeting. I remembered the feeling of a touch, and the scent in the air, nothing more, but it was physically surreal.
this all happened while I was driving home today, watching the snow wisp across the road in a chaotic dance with the winds provoked by speeding cars. now, I don't know fully why, but I can make several educated guesses which I won't be sharing, but I randomly felt depressed and guilty. depression is a feeling I am quite familiar with, despite how some have come to perceive me or assume isn't really possible, but as others would say is obvious, I've been depressed for a majority of my life that I can actually remember, a bit less of late, because I've had other problems to occupy my wandering mind. but the snow traps your thoughts. the drifting flakes entrap you in yourself, and for me, that's a dangerous place for several reasons. but this time, it was just a smell. guilt, on the other hand, I don't really feel. some call that callous or say I'm an asshole because of it, but honestly, go fuck yourself, guilt is overrated and ruins people far more than it helps "make you a better person." once you're guilty you're a self-absorbed-wrist-cutting-twit. I understand why we should feel it, and I understand that in some cases I should too, but I don't care, say all you want about how I've betrayed or wronged you, didn't pay enough attention, or abandoned you, I won't care and your sob story will only strengthen whatever lie you are feeding yourself. just know that what I did was for me, not for you or because of you, we live isolated lives now. just like that smell. it was a part of my life, and now, it's a fragrance lost in time. coincidence? no. it happens all the time. things move on. I've moved on. but I hang on to every word, cling to every transparent memory that I can still imagine.
I remember peoples eyes. I'll forget your name, I'll forget all the wrongs you cause me, but I'll always remember your eyes and all the truth etched in them. I don't care how good of a liar you are or what you think, your eyes will always betray you. I hate remembering eyes, they're spheres of sorrow and malice entwined in a love affair more twisted than Fluffy.
honestly, I can't hold on to everything I wish I could, I let go willingly and close far more doors at the request of pathetic actions. I remember, once I explained a concept of a hallway to a few people, they know the system, but they willingly shut the doors and they still blame me. I find it amusing, but that makes me more of an ass. yes, I'll admit I'm an ass, I've never thought of myself as a good person, and when people try and convince themselves and me that I am, I want to laugh, because in the end, I have to want to be one to be one. my mentality alone won't allow it. I'll die for my sins, just as anyone will, but will I got to hell for them? according to some drunks I have nothing to worry about, for I am "cool and a satanist" like they are, I just haven't realized it yet.
I've come to terms with what I am, but I've noticed no one else really wants to, or they think they should spend their time defining who other people are instead of themselves. what in this world, other than the fact we are the only things our own eyes don't see properly, gives us the right to dictate how everything else is? because I see certain things in you, can I say you're one way alone? yes, I can, I can say whatever I want but it'll accomplish nothing but perhaps some guilt or hostility. we'll cast judgments, opinions, and hypocrisy, and deny any that come our way. why do you think that matters? everyone is the center of their own universe, so stop thinking your opinion matters to them. you're just ash in their eyes waiting to crumble with time.
lately, I have had little time off work, and I am isolated from practically everyone I know. I work an entirely different shift and live in a literally darker world. I see the one I live with for a few hours every now and then, sleep alone and eat alone, I work alone and irritated. I clench my jaw a lot and I am very tense. my family has moved away again, they've gone "home", a concept I've never really understood due to having too many. this is not to blame or state I miss them, but rather to observe this solitude. I see people I consider friends scarcely, due to them being day dwellers and spawners. is anything wrong with that? no, people grow and live for themselves and as themselves. that's how adulthood is, you spend it alone and surrounded by a fake family, your coworkers, and you have a warm bed, sometimes, waiting for you. physically, I know myself and an embrace. but is it something worthy of guilt to remember? who cares. it is kind of like it was last year on a level of interaction, I survive in my own little world and interact on random occasions. I'm quite alright with this way of life until it is brought to my attention and deliberated. the best part about this, would be to put it into the mindset of a "high school" drama, where suddenly my friends and family shouldn't love me or care about me anymore because I don't leave messages on their myspace or call. and for the record, that's a dirty word, myspace. makes your skin crawl, it's like saying Mufasa.
some day I'll find my way back to life, but it will not be amidst the falling snow. these sky's are too gray.