the importance of being important

when you're important to someone, you not only are wanted, but you are sometimes needed. you feel like every moment you're with that person, they appreciate you, they don't take you for granted, they savor that moment. and they're willing, no matter what the circumstances are, to stay in touch, to advance the relationship, and to grow together. it's this importance that i find so many people lacking. today, most people seek after sheer comfort. the number of acquaintances you have is what you value, quantity over quality. but what irks me the most, is someone who embellishes the true importance i am to them, just to make me another number, another acquaintance.
it's as if i never attended high school. i simply watched from outside a glass box the lives of all the people i met through those years. and when i come across them nowadays, it's as if that's all they remember about me, just that i was there, not that i had any part of it. the last time i talked to someone from my first highschool, in person, for more than just a handshake and a nod, i can't remember. never a phone call, an email, a hint at wanting to catch back up. 12 years of my life, just a by-stander. a witness.
my last two years at high school i felt like i had found that acceptance i was looking for. now i look back, and realize these people had fooled me even better than the first. people told me i was there best friend. i told people they were mine. we graduated, and it ends there. no communication. what saddens me most is that i tried to keep it going. i pushed for the contact through college. i scheduled get-togethers, birthdays, football game visits. all for no good. i actually had someone show up for a ballgame one year, only to have me take them to a frat party, where i was left standing alone.
i know no one reads this. in fact i'm pretty sure i only write this so i can read it later, and reflect on where i was emotionally and where i am now. but i wish somehow it was instinctive that people knew how to show importance. i wish people recognized the pain they deal to others by thinking for themselves only. if only everyone thought the way i did: quality > quantity.

i am not a number. i will not add to your repertoire. i want to be cherished. i want to be missed.
no obligatory love. no pity. just importance.

MOFN

one day, and i will make this happen, i will find a spot where there is no human life for miles. i'll be all alone, and there won't be a sound but myself breathing. i'll look to my left, then look to my right, and then clench my fists, and yell. yell everything sinful about me. everything that hurts to think about. things that make me a truly disgusting person. things i hide even from myself. hateful things. goofy things. every thing. i'll yell so loud my voice cracks. spit will fly. it will hurt. mentally i'll be saying stuff i've never told anyone. physically my throat will bleed. my lungs will deflate. deflate. deflate. inhale. more yelling. i'll go on for as long as i can. i'll say every curse word i've learned and then some. no one is off limits. not you, not me, not God. Earth herself will feel the shockwave from my voice. i'll buckle over. yell at the ground. i'll spit on it and stomp on it and curse it. no one is safe. my parents will (but won't) hear me, my friends will (but still won't) hear me. i'll make sure i leave no one untouched. and certainly not me. how long could i go on about myself i don't even know. i might have to get there early to make sure it's still daylight when i'm done. my head will start to hurt. my heart will be beating like it never has. my voice will be on edge. my soul will be its blackest.

and then i'll stop. if the wind so much as blows a dead tumbleweed, i will feel watched, vunerable. but if all stands still, if nothing moves or makes a sound, then i have spoken who i truly am to the only thing that is listening:

nothing.

grumpy gus

i've just got a few things to say:

1. it's not the same, yet it's always the same. uneventful. boring. monotonous. i can remember when i used to go to bed, wishing there were more hours in a day. now, i sit in bed wishing that midnight would come quicker, just so i can go to bed. i used to have things to do, people to see. now, those people are always busy, and those things are things of the past. my day consists of a combination of school, work, and eating, and that's about all it's limited too, even on the weekends. but it's for these reasons that i think i've been blessed with two things: a guitar and a girlfriend. i must say that my guitar playing has improved since i started playing. in high school it really stalled, i think due to my busy schedule. now, i have all the time in the world to play, and i take advantage of that time. hopefully, it's going to pay off one day. secondly, laura knows how to get me thinking, whether it's by just texting me randomly about nothing or really getting my brain working. if there is one thing that has never been boring in my life, it has been my relationship with laura.

2. i've got two words for you if you're under the age of 21 and know what you want to do with your life: fuck you. over the past weeks i've realized that my dreams of becoming a marine biologist were just imaginations i had made up. i wasn't meant for science, for math, for any of that stuff. and i made myself believe that i was. instead of picking a major i knew i'd be good at, i picked one that looked cool and exciting. you know the saying "do what you love and love what you do?" well i had modified that saying to "do what you think you'll love and love what you think you'll be doing." but where to go from here, well that's complicated. i so quickly came up with what i thought i'd be doing for the rest of my life that i didn't even come up with a backup plan, and now i'm racking my brain to figure it out. there are so many options, and yet i have to pick just one. the hardest part is going to be picking one, and 1. meeting a marine biologist down the way and wanting to kick his face in and 2. always turning to the thought of "what if i'd done this" when things get bad

3. i wish my head wasn't as clogged with as much bullshit as it is. i know passwords to videogames by memory but i can't remember what emotions i was feeling five minutes ago.

4. i also wish people knew the conotations of their words, friends and family alike.

The New Traveling Wilburys

Jim James, Jack White, Connor Oberst, Sufjan Stevens, Sam Beam

in my opinion...

That Feeling

"that feeling" makes me double over, mentally and physically.
"that feeling" keeps the bear from hibernating, killing her young for food.
"that feeling" can ruin the best of moments, the best of days.
"that feeling" takes the meat off my ribs, off my cheekbones.
"that feeling" bleeds over everything else, eyes, mouth, ears... brain.
"that feeling" isolates me from every other being on the face of the Earth.
"that feeling" connects me to myself in some way.
"that feeling" is my worse fear, my crippled leg that slowly dissolves away, one day halting me from moving forward at all.


"that feeling" is in the depths of my stomach.

This Feeling

"this feeling" gives me the ability to laugh at myself and my stupid problems.
"this feeling" makes the conductor in my head sit down and listen to his orchestra.
"this feeling" erases time for as long as it lasts, and I like that.
"this feeling" gets me the closest to me that I've ever felt.
"this feeling" is the man who stands naked in the street and smiles.
"this feeling" connects me to people.
"this feeling" is in memory of others.

"this feeling" is felt to make an image.
"this feeling" can hurt other people when abused.
"this feeling" shouldn't be depended on.
"this feeling" has been depended on.
"this feeling" makes me cry.
"this feeling" makes others cry.
"this feeling" could end it all.

"this feeling" is good and evil.

Me By Numbers

after long consideration and many a-night thinking to myself, I've come to accept that I may never answer the life altering question "who are you/who am I." I feel that somewhere in the past, maybe childhood or even birth, my ability to identify with other people was thwarted; not lost, just deformed. my life has been a mixtape of opportunities, lifestyles and emotions, but never have I felt that it was true to "me". never have I felt that I was "me"

but I'm ok with this.

rather than waste all my time searching for an answer I'm sure not to find, I've turned to alternatives I consider valuable to atleast coming to some sort of closure. by this I just mean characteristics.

like carefree. if I could one day be carefree of how I think people look at me, carefree about politics, other people's problems, small things that I just shouldn't sweat, I think I would feel accomplished, maybe a little fulfilled.

or forgetting my fear. I have fears people make up for the movies. some I don't like to talk about, and others I feel are necessary to talk about to come to some closure. one of my top fears is death; not so much the feeling, but the outcome. if it is pure emptiness that follows, then I want to live as long as possible, but if it is something more, if it is some eclipsing feeling of joy or some Utopia, then I have nothing to fear. it is the uncertainty that frightens me. but if one day I could live my life without having to think about aging, growing old, dying, and yet focus on what I have right now, the beauty of life and the surrounding living things... again, I would feel such closure.

and finally, a life without predeterminations would be splendid. I'll be the first to say that thoughts cross my mind very often throughout the day, usually quicker than I can look at them and say "did I really just think that?" being able to walk into a room full of a diverse people and say "all these people are beautiful in their own retrospect" and then begin evaluating from there, that would be ideal. I can't tell you how awesome it feels when you've already put this judgmental image of someone in your brain, and as you get to know them they shatter it piece by piece. but that's not what I want. I want that shattering to happen in the beginning, in part by me, and to begin my assessment of a person then.

who am I? I'll never know. and people may say they know. and they might. but I didn't ask them. I asked myself. am I giving up? of course not. if someday that answer just hits me, you won't find me upset. am I accepting the truth as I see it now?

that's exactly what I'm doing...