Is this an irony? I ask this question in true inquisitiveness.
I figured out an irony, I think. So I will give a tale of it.
For some reason I get in these restless moods. I feel the need to shift and relocate myself into a new sphere of experience. I did that once before when I chose to enlist in the Marine Corps. But for some reason back then in 2001 I was suicidal. I have to acknowledge that was one of the elements of my choice of my enlistment. It was. It was small.
So I went through the Marine Corps possibly looking for a way to die honorably. It did not happen. But it was a possibility. The biggest irony about that decision was that it was one of the few things that I actually did that counted. It was also one of the few things that I was good at. It was one of the few things I could manage. It was the life of an enlisted man, and I opted out of it. I still regret the decision of choosing to opt out of the only thing that made me grow, and enabled internal growth.
I sigh with regret at that decision. It was truly silly, and it was truly misdirected. It misfired me all because the enlisted life only asked me to sacrifice my free time a little bit. I used to go on deployments, and I used to travel. I actually served a common good, in a common corner, and it was sufficient for me to live a satisfied, fulfilled, true, real life.
But now I just sit like a lump on the log waiting for something to come my way. But yet I live this way because I actively choose to live this way -- with easy exits and later-ons and laters tomorrow. I have lost my courage somehow to do the most everyday, basic task. But now I must choose to make adult decisions very, very soon.
I have already dwelt upon that road before. But the main central point of this post, originally, was to tell, to try to understand, whether my choice I made (described up there) as ironic? I think I should look up the meaning online.
OK! So apparently, it is!
the author causes a character to speak or act erroneously, out of ignorance of some portion of the truth of which the audience is aware. In other words, the audience knows the character is making a mistake, even as the character is making it. This technique highlights the importance of a particular truth by portraying a person who is strikingly unaware of it.
Does that therefore mean that I can allowed to find the humor in such of my decisions? Does this enable me to get over my bad decisions? Is this realizeable? I really hope it is. I am sick of the swing days and the heavy days and the high days and the neutral days and the sepia days and the ultra-highlighted days. My moods, and my days, swing way too erratically for me to assimilate. Nuances confuse me, and I also have a really difficult time identifying real, genuine emotion, from the manufactured ones I'm supposed to have at a particular situation.
I am rambling. I should not take advice. I should not because I think the only real answer I can find for myself is the one I have to grant. All options have good and bad consequences. For what I choose in the future has to be a choice that is truly selfless.
I am freaking out right now.
Because, at my most toastiest immediately after smoking some m-j, I get a call for a job offer for the food co-op. I mean, I was ripped to the tits on fresh marijuana. And, so far, up to that point before the call, I was enjoying myself. This is the third call today. The first two were bullshit "charity" calls that only monitor people's where-abouts. I get the ring. I am so prepared to tell off a real person...or to, at least, hang up angrily at the robot call. I chortle with the thought of such rage at such banality.
But..... NOOOOOOOOOO! It just had to be an actual call from an actual employer who is interested in an interview at the place I've been lusting over for employment for the past two months! Fuck me sideways! Out of all the time between when I turned in the application, to absolute now -- the zenith of toastiness -- is when I receive this kind of call? For real, Universe? For real, God? For real, 4D Space-time interdimensional aliens? This poor girl had to listen to me?
I don't know how I held my shit together. I will have to give my weed to &***# tomorrow because I know I will have to go dry during my employment. And I figure if I don't do it tomorrow, I'll make some excuse with myself to keep it...which in turn will ruin me in some lame, benign way. Oops... I slept past my alarm... Oops, I forgot the start of my shift, but I'm on my way... Oops, wishing I wasn't here standing doing nothing.
I sigh.
I laugh now. Yes. There are bad parts. And there are bad mistakes and choices. And there is evil in people's hearts, and wrath within my own, but somehow: There is still good to be enjoyed in some way. Because there is still good. It has to exist somewhere. I actually searched, in real life, for a secluded utopia, not once, but twice. Where everyone has a purpose and a path, and a real sense of being and belonging.
So the interview is this Friday at 1pm. That means I should be there at 12:40pm. I don't want to appear too anxious and gleaming.
I am thankful for this moment. If it doesn't come to fruition, I will still favor it as a possibility somewhere else.
⊗