That's the spirit!
I don’t know why, but it’s been hard to tell stories lately. I’m usually a great storyteller, or at least I’m great with imagination. I should go work for Disney. But lately I’ve been on a drought for stories, a drought for creativity. My music has declined as well - not in quality, but definitely in quantity. Perhaps I’m too meticulous. I love the stories. I love the adventures that come alive inside of me and inside of everyone else who reads them. That’s probably why I love Adventure Land so much at Disneyland. Man oh man, what it’d be like to be Indiana Jones, even if just for a movie. I guess I just need a little bit adventure in my life. Lately it’s been uneventfully sunny.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, which has probably led to this very post. I fucked up a lot of relationships/friendships in my life, but on the other hand, a lot of friendships/relationships have fucked me over. I’ve taken on an attitude that basically falls along the lines of not caring what people think of me when I feel a certain way about them, whether that feeling be negative or positive. I can honestly say I’ve obtained this attitude by observing my best friend, Frank’s, attitude towards people. He doesn’t care what people think of him. So may argue, as I agree, that he takes that attitude too far sometimes, but I still think the general idea is beneficial. I mean look, I get angry over things - why should I care if you’re angry about my anger? I get sad over some things - so why should I care if you think I’m being dumb about the origination of my sadness? I don’t. I don’t care if I make a fool out of myself, because you don’t matter to me all that much anyway. And there lies the problem.
I’m tired of shit, and shit is what I’ve been getting for a while now. Thus, my relationships and genuine trust in people has diminished. This mistrust even extends into my family’s realm of relationships. It’s almost as if I’ve completely decided for myself that I don’t have a father, even though I do, and even though I know he loves me very much. But, I don’t feel the same way. And I bet you want to know why. Well, because I’ve never felt like his love me was genuine. For God’s sake he walked out on my entire family! It was torn apart from the inside out. So why the fuck should I care about him, if he’s the one who walked out on me? I don’t. I don’t care. I don’t care. There are some good people out there in the world, some of my friends being those people. What is it about me that makes me so inevitably useless to you? Is a simple friendship so far down in your list of precious priorities that you’re engulfed within a world of misery? Wake the fuck up!
God made a beautiful world. We live in a beautiful world. It only becomes ugly when we decide that it is ugly. But it’s not. It’s beautiful. You need to see it that way. I need to see it that way.
Carol, if you still read this, I sent you an email almost a week ago; it came back saying the email address wasn’t valid anymore. But to summarize what it said, I wanted you to know that you were so good to me, and I didn’t’ want to see it. I did love you but was never in love with you. All I wish for you is happiness, although I can sometimes wish hell upon you. But for God’s sake Carol, allow me to be your friend.
Person two, you’ve needed to fall, and now you’re falling. I hope to God you learn from it.
I don’t hate myself anymore. That’ll be your job, if it suits you. But I won’t care.