After another long chapter break, or intermission, or maybe just downright loss of interest, I find myself back here again, at the middle of my story. And back at the beginning, somewhere that I never really left in the first place. It's very much like a merry-go-round. The more momentum I get going in one direction, the faster I find myself back where I started. And it just goes; around, and around, and around. So here I am, at the middle of the story, having taken the opportunity other night to look back a bit and see just where exactly it was I was coming from anyway. There's a part of me that is really thankful they didn't design cars to emulate life, because while we'd be spending our time looking out the back window trying to watch the sun set or figure out who it was that just drove past us in the other direction, we'd be crashing into things left and right. Come to think of it, that is not an analogy I have ever pondered before, but I feel like it's actually quite appropriate. My life is like a car with no windshield. What nobody told me, though, is that it's a slot car, and it's driving on a circular track. See also: merry-go-round. See also: algorithm. See also: continuum.
So, I took some time to peek through this metaphorical back window and revisit a few snapshots of the last year or so. I suppose I completely forget I'm telling this story sometimes, for months at a time (and the last six months were no exception), only to return to find that everything is different now, even though nothing has really changed.
***
Burnsville, Minnesota, is the quintessential suburb. If you live there, chances are you are probably one of three people: 1) a high-school mallrat; 2) a soccer mom or a hockey dad; or 3) somewhere in between without enough good sense to get out. Burnsville was purgatory. Being an upwardly mobile twenty-something in the middle of this wasteland made me feel like I was the only person on earth who still had a pulse. Luckily, I figured I would only have to stay until I could afford to move into my own place elsewhere. Unluckily, I found out pretty quickly that doing so wasn't something I would really be able to unless it was to another suburb just as desolate. At that point, I figured I would just melt into my surroundings until I became a part of the background much like an ice cube in a bucket of hot water. Perhaps I could fake it, and perhaps I could just learn to enjoy a trip to the mall or a chat with the neighbor about sports or their kids' athletic achievements. Perhaps it could be zen after all?
I spent a little over five months in Burnsville, Minnesota. During that period of time, I had to be Suburban. I had to think Suburban, I had to commute Suburban, I had to eat Suburban, I had to sleep Suburban, and I had to brush my teeth Suburban. I lived on a Suburban street in a Suburban neighborhood, and... well, I think I've sufficiently made my point. I couldn't pretend that it was in no way enriching, because being that isolated from the true human condition leaves you feeling pretty isolated from your own thoughts, and that starts a chain reaction of conscious redefinition of the self. Don't get me wrong - I was always the same guy. I still liked to gorge myself on ice cream even though I'm lactose intolerant. I continued to take my daily shower at night. I still had a lot of words to say. I complained a lot, but I found some distractions to allow my mind to wander back to its usual playgrounds every so often, and that was pleasant. Still, at the end of every day I went to bed alone. And by alone, I don't mean that I was the only person in my bed, but really that I was the only person in the universe.
***
So here we are, and we've come full circle. I'm a creature of eternal habits, so I suppose it should be unsurprising that one of my usual revelations (which, by the way, miraculously never feels any less significant, although I have it ALL the time) came back to me and hit me on the forehead. I made the mistake of writing a song with some pretty definite thoughts on being alone, and I feel like I have to hold myself to it, even though I highly suspect that at the time I wrote it, I was plagiarizing the the emotion. And that's fine, I bet 99% of all songs have disingenuous lyrics in them somewhere. But here was my anthem all the same: "I'm not lonely, I'm just alone." Truth be told, there's no such thing as either. Thing is, you don't have to be alone to be lonely, and when that happens, it is generally a much bigger issue. Sadly, that's where the last few months have found me. I used to get this feeling when I was with my ex-girlfriend, and I made the mistake of telling her so one night when I was particularly dissatisfied with our relationship. She probably lost her faith in everything I said from that point onward right then and there, because every time she laid down next to me, she figured I was right alongside her, when in reality I might as well have been on the far side of Jupiter's fourth moon. To make matters worse, the last few months, I only felt the pangs of loneliness while I was around other people.
Realizing you're getting lonely in the presence of your closest friends truly obviates a couple things for you. One, they're obviously not that close. Two, you really need to shake things up. At least, this was the conclusion I came to, so I set about to implement my plan in a two of phases. The first phase was a cleansing phase. I figured I'd just do my own thing, which was playing as much music as possible (though that's proven to be ineffective at just about everything except prolonging the time period before I solve my problems). Unfortunately, I ran out of gigs and I just couldn't manage to light a single spark. I think this was a blessing in disguise, however, because it afforded me the unique opportunity to get back in touch with myself a little, and I decided to buy a condo, which allowed me to move back into the city of Minneapolis, even though living in a building with other people wasn't really what I wanted to do. So I left my temporary landing pad in Burnsville, and here I am. In my new robot home. Again. And -- and I'm being totally honest here -- I'm finally starting to feel like I'm home.
... to be continued (The Second Phase) ...
i know i've sort of neglected writing anything down for a while, but i've just been so busy trying to keep myself busy, it's been kind of difficult. i've started to notice that this is the time of year i usually find myself more or less alone, trying to start over. it's an odd tradition, but my life is riddled with them, so it doesn't really faze me. all i wanted to do all summer was move, but now that the time is upon me to do just that, it's getting a little tough. it means being a little more proactive and packing up my stuff, which is a little annoying. i can barely get my laundry done in a timely fashion. i'm flashing back to last time, though. i had just started seeing a girl named claire. of all the people i've ever been involved with, claire was the one in whom i was the least interested. i just felt like flexing my manipulation muscles and seeing what i was even capable of doing. having been out of the dating world for a really long time and then suddenly finding myself back in it doing horribly, meeting the girl before claire was a relief - until she disappeared three days later, ultimately causing me to think i really sucked at girls. fortunately, i never really liked claire that much and she didn't really like me that much either, so it was a nice little collision. it didn't really last much longer than a week, as well.
this year i'm a little more mature than i was last year. i don't need to prove anything to anyone else, much less my own self. i'm sure i'm just fine. claire was the last person i found myself actually involved with, unless you count the last girl i went out with a few times who moved to hawaii shortly after i met her. i don't. at the rate i'm going, by the time i'm 30, i'll be lucky if anyone says hi to me. things appear to be on the decline.
i don't really know if i want anything in particular, whether that's to be single or part of a couple again. naturally, everyone i see seems to be in a committed relationship these days, which is mostly annoying because i hate couples in the first place, but sometimes i wonder if i'm jealous because that's what i want. and then i take off and waste a day by myself reading and doing me things and wonder why anyone would ever give up that freedom. sometimes i wish i was a slut. i'd get the best of both worlds. unfortunately, it's not in my nature to be that agressive about what i want, and i don't feel like i'm completely entitled to have whatever it is i want when i want it, regardless of the consequences... so slutting is kind of out.
i guess what really grates on me is the feeling of having no friends. i got a degree in theatre but did not pursue that any further once i graduated, instead getting a job in the real world. and it was a great litmus test. all my theatre friends were actually acting. or something. i've always been all about the partnership of convenience, but this time around it's actually kind of backfiring on me, because everyone i've surrounded myself with for the last few years had just as noncommittal an approach as i have. whoops on me for that.
i can't finish a blog post anymore. i can't freeze ice cream, and i can't remember to turn off the stove. it's a marvel i haven't burnt down this house or at least burnt out half of the refrigerator. guess i'll just quit while i'm ahead (snort).
i've always been too ambitious for my own good. it's worked out pretty well for me in the past -
i wouldn't have pointed any of this out if there weren't a really good reason for it. it's not something i think about that often. however, there are days like today that really make me wonder. i woke up this morning under the assumption that i was going to skip my english class and just go to school at 10:15 or so. except then i really woke up, and realized that i'm not in college anymore, so i'm not free to skip class. and definitely not the first couple hours of work, either. i bumbled into work, and from the moment that i sat down to the moment i got up to leave nearly 10 hours later, i was bombarded with work. only i didn't leave it there. i packed it up, grabbed the laptop, and brought it home. i've been working for the last 5 hours or so here just to keep myself caught up.
why do i do this?
there is no logical explanation. i have nobody to compete with, unless the other technical specialists where i work count. but what do i have to gain from working more than them? i can't think of much. and this isn't ADD, this is my career. it's what i'll do for years and years, if not my entire life even.
there's that old joke about telling someone stupid to go into a round room and telling them to pee in the corner. i feel like that's a pretty adequate analogy for my life right now. i'm just going in circles now, but i'm already there. in some ways, i feel like i'm on top of a mountain and still trying to climb to the moon. in other ways i feel like a 28-year old man trapped inside a 23-year old's body. and simultaneously, i am wandering in circles, looking for a corner to pee in.
i really hope i sort this out soon. this simply cannot be what my life is going to be like. except that a part of me knows that if i'm not careful, this is exactly what the rest of my life will be like. during college i worked on at least 1 if not 2 or 3 shows at a time, while going to school full time and working 20-30 hours per week. that didn't leave much of a room for having a life, but i even squeezed a little of that in there, too.
i need to slow down, because i'm already there. i could really use a hand. the combination of attention defecit disorder, a mean competitive streak about three miles long, and my entire future to try and wrangle - it's truly a recipe for a lot of things. the ADD keeps me bouncing around from one thing to the next. my resumé is ample proof of that. it's all over the map. then there's the competitive part. this is what makes me somehow believe that i have to be the best at whatever it is that i'm temporarily obsessed with. those two things alone are bad news. it drives me to work very hard at something for a period of time and then completely drop it. the weird part, though, is that that third element isn't really there. my future isn't up for grabs anymore. i know exactly what it looks like. the only variable left is "where exactly will i end up living?" and you know, sooner or later, that one will sort itself out, too, leaving me a fully settled and official adult.
