Note to Self: I miss you terribly.
I re-read that last entry I made, and I realized parts of it make no sense. Sometimes I think I'm not quite as tragic as I'd like to be. My combinations of optimism, fatalism, and longing sometimes mix to a messy concoction of bitter hatred. But that's not me. I realized it today when I was talking to an old friend of mine, and he reminded me that I was going to save the world.
How could I have become so wrapped up in this little universe I created that I forgot what used to make me so cool. I used to be compassionate and hopeful, and I would never have thought of settling for anything less than amazing in any aspect of my life. But lately, I've found myself thinking about mediocrity and almost coming to terms with it. Then I found myself wondering at exactly what point did I begin this downward spiral of bitter-old-man syndrome. I think I've just lost my faith in people. And I think my job has a lot to do with it. Just seeing how nasty people can be to someone they don't know who was never nasty to them. Sitting there and being nice to people who yell at me about 25 cent fines and accuse me of stealing their books. It used to not get to me, but I think the turning point was Arline Gordon. This woman was so incredibly awful to me, and all I was trying to do was help her. It was a long time ago, but I think at that point I really began to be defensive at work and not want to be so compassionate toward people who were obviously miserable and full of this bitter hatred. So instead of rising above it and being better than that (which I know I am), I embrace that attitude for myself and apply it to my everyday existence, thus making me a miserably bitter person just like them. I've been focusing on the negative, when all this time there has been a lot of positive. I've made friends and stepped outside myself. It should be making me a better person. I'm tired of trying so hard and not getting anything for it. I'm tired of not being appreciated. I'm tired of giving so much to people and doing everything I can to help them and make them happy only to have them treat me like I'm nothing. I used to have this friend Steven, and he always told me that I was too nice, and one day I was just going to snap and start hating people. I guess it was a forseeable consequence, but I don't want to be like this. I don't want to hate people. I remember when people would be rude to me at work, and I would just be extra nice back to them, and it would make me feel better. But now I find myself snapping at people who irritate me (especially when they don't speak English). I'm a lot more outspoken than I ever used to be. And I think that's a good thing, I just need to channel it differently. I'm starting to remember who I used to be. And I still am that person. I just stopped being who I thought I was. And that is a great irony. All my life, I've been disappointed in people for letting me down and not being who I thought they were. And here, I've completely lost myself in this sea of angst and tragedy (most of which I'm sure I've inflated a great deal more than necessary).
I have an elaborate metaphor (not as good as my sandwich metaphor, but none will ever be). It's like I'm swimming in the ocean, and I'm a pretty good swimmer, but sometimes these waves come along that are really strong. And they sweep me away. I get all caught up in these waves and let them carry me all over the place until I can't float on them anymore and they dissolve. By this time, I've forgotten how much work swimming is, and I falter. Eventually, I get back in my groove and I'm doing fine again. Then another wave comes along, and the cycle continues. The point is that I always figure out how to swim again. Some waves are stronger than others and pull me farther from my course than I thought they would. And some fucking hurt. But I always find my way back to my course. And getting swept off it is fun, until I start drowning. I think I've been drowning for a while. And half the time, I didn't even realize how far off I let myself get. I guess I've always sort of hoped for a constant. Something to keep me grounded. I don't have that yet. I need some floaties. But first I need to learn to do it on my own, I guess.
I'm still going to save the world. Thank you for reminding me. You don't even know how much asking me that question helped me realize what I need. I'm starting to discover new interests in my field of study, which is really refreshing. And at work today, I didn't get mad at anyone, even though some people were intensely annoying. And I didn't have any highly irrational thoughts about boys.
Mediocrity is not an option. It never was.
I'm coming back.
Richard knows it.
How could I have become so wrapped up in this little universe I created that I forgot what used to make me so cool. I used to be compassionate and hopeful, and I would never have thought of settling for anything less than amazing in any aspect of my life. But lately, I've found myself thinking about mediocrity and almost coming to terms with it. Then I found myself wondering at exactly what point did I begin this downward spiral of bitter-old-man syndrome. I think I've just lost my faith in people. And I think my job has a lot to do with it. Just seeing how nasty people can be to someone they don't know who was never nasty to them. Sitting there and being nice to people who yell at me about 25 cent fines and accuse me of stealing their books. It used to not get to me, but I think the turning point was Arline Gordon. This woman was so incredibly awful to me, and all I was trying to do was help her. It was a long time ago, but I think at that point I really began to be defensive at work and not want to be so compassionate toward people who were obviously miserable and full of this bitter hatred. So instead of rising above it and being better than that (which I know I am), I embrace that attitude for myself and apply it to my everyday existence, thus making me a miserably bitter person just like them. I've been focusing on the negative, when all this time there has been a lot of positive. I've made friends and stepped outside myself. It should be making me a better person. I'm tired of trying so hard and not getting anything for it. I'm tired of not being appreciated. I'm tired of giving so much to people and doing everything I can to help them and make them happy only to have them treat me like I'm nothing. I used to have this friend Steven, and he always told me that I was too nice, and one day I was just going to snap and start hating people. I guess it was a forseeable consequence, but I don't want to be like this. I don't want to hate people. I remember when people would be rude to me at work, and I would just be extra nice back to them, and it would make me feel better. But now I find myself snapping at people who irritate me (especially when they don't speak English). I'm a lot more outspoken than I ever used to be. And I think that's a good thing, I just need to channel it differently. I'm starting to remember who I used to be. And I still am that person. I just stopped being who I thought I was. And that is a great irony. All my life, I've been disappointed in people for letting me down and not being who I thought they were. And here, I've completely lost myself in this sea of angst and tragedy (most of which I'm sure I've inflated a great deal more than necessary).
I have an elaborate metaphor (not as good as my sandwich metaphor, but none will ever be). It's like I'm swimming in the ocean, and I'm a pretty good swimmer, but sometimes these waves come along that are really strong. And they sweep me away. I get all caught up in these waves and let them carry me all over the place until I can't float on them anymore and they dissolve. By this time, I've forgotten how much work swimming is, and I falter. Eventually, I get back in my groove and I'm doing fine again. Then another wave comes along, and the cycle continues. The point is that I always figure out how to swim again. Some waves are stronger than others and pull me farther from my course than I thought they would. And some fucking hurt. But I always find my way back to my course. And getting swept off it is fun, until I start drowning. I think I've been drowning for a while. And half the time, I didn't even realize how far off I let myself get. I guess I've always sort of hoped for a constant. Something to keep me grounded. I don't have that yet. I need some floaties. But first I need to learn to do it on my own, I guess.
I'm still going to save the world. Thank you for reminding me. You don't even know how much asking me that question helped me realize what I need. I'm starting to discover new interests in my field of study, which is really refreshing. And at work today, I didn't get mad at anyone, even though some people were intensely annoying. And I didn't have any highly irrational thoughts about boys.
Mediocrity is not an option. It never was.
I'm coming back.
Richard knows it.