Thursday, July 02, 2009

My brother is going to be 35 tomorrow. I'm 26. It's somehow weird to feel that I am to my nieces what my uncles were to me when I was 5 year old. I'm old. My brother's even older. We're old. My brother met his wife when he was younger than I am. My other brother met his girlfriend when he was 21-22 (well, he met her long before, but they started dating only then). With each year passing by, my odds of finding someone and have kids of my own are getting slimmer. Well, with progress in medicine and all, and the fact that older men always seem to find girls in their 20s interested in them... my odds aren't all that slim either.

In answer to what someone said in the comment pop-up window of one of my recent entries, I'm not looking for love to make me better. I'm not looking for excitement and a rush of endorphins. I know better. I know myself better than that. I know that whatever excitement or exhilaration that might be expected just wouldn't come. I just don't get excited... ever. It pisses people off, but it's true. So, back to what I was saying, I'm not counting on love to enhance my life in any major way. You all don't notice it, because most of you love and are loved in some degree. But for someone who has never shared a connection with another human being, like me, love is a little thing, a completely natural thing, that is missing. It's like someone giving away a kidney to a parent in need... they know the kidney should be there, they know they can live without it, but still, it's missing. It should be there, but it isn't. Perhaps for the better, because the alternative might be terribly sad, just like throwing myself into a relationship just to make myself feel better might be terribly destructive. But still, it's missing.

I'm looking for my missing kidney. Not at any cost. And if I don't find that kidney, too bad, but I'll live on (if I pushed this analogy further, dialysis might become a metaphor for masturbation). I'll take my time. Slim odds or not, it's better to be looking than to be daydreaming.

Hey people, think of the weirdest and smartest person you know, and if it's the same person, and that person is a female, and a human being, and cute, then tell me!

Friday, June 26, 2009

I don't exactly suffer from writer's block, seeing how I can basically write at will. What I have is more like a human being's block, in that I don't seem to get the simple action of living going. Whereas I have literary inspiration, I am overly uninspired in life.

I have all these ideas that would be worth exploring, that I keep to myself. I honestly think I could change the world in a positive way. But even if I did, what then? What would prevent the world from decaying all over again? I'm too cynical to believe mankind will survive its identity crisis. Why bother?

So, what should I do? Go see a shrink and have myself some drug prescribed that artificially uplifts me? Go see a cult and have myself brainwashed and turned into a wide-eyed grinning faithful? Go nowhere and remain who I am, and forever remain that way until humanity and I are no longer part of this universe? Who am I kidding... I won't live that long.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

So... this is 2009... nice.

It's almost been a year since I last posted on this blog. I've done much of my blogging on facebook, where my friends would almost be forced to see it. Not necessarily forced to read it, but it would be right in their faces. But over the time, more people I wouldn't consider friends were added, and I'm just too lazy to block them all from seeing my little notes. So, I thought I would resurrect this old fantastic blog of mine.

I tend to blog when I'm down. I wouldn't say depressed, because my entire life is one big long depression. Its evenness is almost hard to believe. I never get quite high, never get quite low. I'm always stable, below the average, I suppose. That's this evenness of mood that drives people crazy. Friends try to take me do things and ask me: "Aren't you having fun?" And I answer, "Sure, why not?" And it pisses them off. Last year, three friends and I went to New York, and they asked me whether I was impressed, and I had to tell them I was, because otherwise, it didn't show on my face. I'm always calm and straight-faced. That's why I was the only one not to panic when we got lost, or when strange people walked by. Fearlessness comes with the dullness, I guess.

Yesterday, and carrying it through the night into this saturday morning, I was lower than usual. Again, it's only slightly lower, because of my very limited emotional spectrum. I was thinking about the relationships I've never had, and maybe never will. I figured that the longer it takes me to find someone to love, the harder it will be for me to act normal. Sadly, there's no stability without some normalcy. And my being so stable emotionally (granted, I stabilized real low too) is anormal. Who would have thought stability would prevent me from finding stability in love?

A couple of years ago, after seeing TV ads and internet banners, I decided to give a dating site a chance. It wasn't just any site, but one that sounded somewhat different and somewhat credible. Sure, any site can make itself look good by using the 2 or 3 successes in publicities, discarding their thousands of failures. But there was something about this one site, though. When you registered (for free), you filled in the form and then you answered surveys. It was something like a psychological profile. Then the computer went and tried to match your personality with others. Only then, after seeing the results, you had to pay to contact the people found. So, I filled the form, answered the question and all... the result: ZERO match! I'm totally incompatible with their entire database of thousands. I can imagine some people being compatible with between 1 and 5% of the population. I'm not even compatible with 0,1% of the population.

No surprise, then, that I've always fallen in love with girls who didn't love me, and those who happened to love me, I just couldn't get myself to love (I even tried, fancy that). But that internet site... that's the most incredible part: first internet site EVER to refrain from making money off of a vulnerable person. Out of pity, perhaps.

I so couldn't have written this on facebook.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

As it turns out, I can't count. When I logged on, it said I had 249 posts, but when I count them by myself, I only have 248, making this one 249th, and the next one 250th. What's up with that?

Does it mean I still have a real chance to make a meaningful 250th post?

Make suggestion for the Super Awesome 250th Post Extravaganza!!!

Yes, three "!"s. That's just how awesome it is (for those who don't follow, it is super... as in Super Awesome... and it's an extravaganza...).

250th post

This is my 250th post. What a proud moment!


Did you really think I'd waste such an occasion? Really? Well, I am.

By the way, I'm still alive and breathing, and using clich├ęs to describe how I am, even though it barely scratches the surface and really means nothing. I also assume people assume I live and breathe if I also type and click.


Thursday, June 19, 2008

Angry Angry Hippo

I've realized with time that I used to be expressionless. But not anymore. Now, I do express feelings and emotions. Mostly anger.

I keep getting angry at trivial things, like rain or inanimate objects. I kick tires with a footful of rage (tires, because it's bouncy, and while I'm angry, I'm not stupid enough to actually injure myself on top of it. I don't need that to be hurt anyway). I yell at people. I even yell insults at my boss. Well... I've done that for years, so it's nothing new. But this angry side is starting to worry me. Bad for the blood pressure.

I'm back where I was a teenager. Looking to pick a fight. How did I manage to get rid of it for nearly ten years? I can't remember. Was it just numbness and disinterest? Yes, apathy. How can apathy be the cause and the solution to all of my problem?

Not there yet

I keep hoping I'll hit the bottom, but my free fall appears endless. How much more depressed can I be? I can't buy myself a new pen whenever I feel bad. I can't jump on a plane every time I feel blue. I don't know.

Yes, I do like purchasing pens. Girls get a new haircut to feel better about themselves. I buy myself a pen. My current pen is really hard to beat, though. Greatest pen ever.

Back on topic... I had this theory that once I get to that point where I'm sincerely disgusted of being who I am, I'd have no choice but change into something else, hopefully better. But I've never hated myself enough, and I keep waiting for the worse to come. Or for the best to come.

Listen, people. I could do really great things if only I had the desire. I need desire, but I desire nothing, except that which I can't have, or doesn't exist.

Help me.

Monday, June 16, 2008

It came to me that it isn't a muse that I may need. I don't really need inspiration. I need motivation. But still, a muse could come in handy, if I were to struggle with ideas. So, I'll keep looking for a muse still. Perhaps I could manage to fall in love with my muse, and thus find some motivation.

Here's a reason why a muse should work for me: I'm awesome!

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Muse wanted

I need a muse. I need that person in my life that will come every now and then and stir things up and shake me out of whatever type of apathy it is that paralyzes me on a daily basis. I need a mental challenge, or someone interested enough to make me talk about these things that I know and want to write about. Right now, I'm just letting it brew inside, but to no avail. I have to spill it and share it, and make it into something else altogether.

But no muse, no spilling, no evolving into something else. I know I have all I need in me, but I just need someone to pull it out. Otherwise, I won't do it.


The salary's not great, but the benefits are... me!

Monday, May 26, 2008

Quote of the day

We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin

I have to remember this one. This is good stuff, and true too.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Let's just write something

Hey! It's 2008! Well, it's just a big blur. Actually, more like a blizzard, a snow storm, a long cold night.

On one hand, I'm true to myself and to my principles. On the other hand, I'm still far from being the man I want to be. I admire certain traits in me, yet I despise others. I hate my laziness. I hate my inflexibility. I do love how I can come off as wise and understanding. I love my patience. I love my ability to dream and imagine, and this ability to link ideas together. I love how I can make sense out of disorder. Then, I hate to watch myself let disorders grow around me.

I started this blog so that I'd be encouraged to write more. I hoped some feedback would fuel my desire, and the effort of mere writing would wake my literary instinct up. Unfortunately, while many ideas have come up over the year and a half I've done this, I have yet to find the catalyst, the focus, the drive or the voice. I'm like a catatonic with things to say, but no mean to express myself. A live mind trapped in a dead body.

Let there be change!
If only I believed myself when I say such things...


Friday, December 21, 2007

I've dug myself a deep hole, and I need an outstretched hand to pull me out. Or a mere voice. It might be able to jump out by myself, but right now, I don't feel like trying.

I'm weak and powerless.

Friday, November 09, 2007

I've now gone thousands of miles in every direction from my point of origin, only to realize that it doesn't matter where you are, but rather who you are with. And I'm alone.

Why do I learn life lessons the hard and expensive way?

P.S. Bambi ran into the side of my car in downtown Medicine Hat, Alberta. Bambi gently stripped my car of its right side mirror and my radio antenna (which sucks, because I forgot all but one of my CDs home). Good news: Bambi kept running afterwards, which means I was the victim of a hit and run. Not the other way around.

You should see my car...

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Quote of the day

I quote myself once again:

"Ah, technology. Can live without it, but still don't wanna."

December 8th, 2005, 23h 23m 35s, during a chat with a friend.

Pains and revelations

I suppose anyone having a life similar to mine would be far more depressed than I am. Being weird helps appreciating boredom. I feel like a martyr in my own eyes. I suffer and lead by example, but only for me to benefit, only for my own attention, for my brain to understand, analyze and incorporate. I won't have mankind learn from my pains and revelations. Those are mine, and mine alone.

I can't help but wonder why men always had to learn through pain and failure. Through war, torture, lies, crime, etc.

Pains and revelations, people. No epiphany without martyrdom.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

This is the emo-est you'll ever see me:

The nice thing about dead friends, it's that they don't ignore you... anymore.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

I've been going to bed real early lately. Like 8-9pm.

I'm just bored with reality.