I just can't stop myself from conjuring up different scenarios of my own demise. It has nothing to do with heroism and everything to do with the futility of existence itself. I've gone on long enough to feel convinced that, although sharing my life with someone would mostly alleviate these empty feelings that seem to consume almost every waking moment, I'd much rather withdraw myself from the pool altogether and move on. Some may call it "giving up" but I look at it more as accepting a reality. Maybe it's not the only one, but I'm tired of living up to whatever expectations are necessary to earn a living. Nothing is more important to me than what's in my heart, and it's been clear to me for a while now that I'm either incredibly crazy (unlikely) or this is something that I feel strongly in support of for myself (best answer).

This may come as a shock to many, but this is how I feel. Why share it? Documenting the mentality of my experience seems to give it some sort of validity. Audience to it is unnecessary since the act itself is sufficient. Seeing my words in writing also makes it much easier to accept what I feel. I just need to overcome my natural instinct to persevere and allow myself to succumb to my wishes; my will is not yet strong enough, but I feel soon that I may be ready. Until such time arrives, I can at least take solace in finding an utter lack of fear or contempt for the thought of an untimely end suddenly finding me.

I do not like this.



As a side note, I feel like eating a mountain of food because my brain makes me feel good about it.

Rick was crazy miffed at whatever and dished out his negativity on me, riding my ass like it was the only elevator on that floor. That coupled with more bullshit from stupid people that actually made me look bad (despite being completely absurd) meant I was pretty fed up by the end of the day.

It's so much clearer to me now just how racism works in this country. Change your hairstyle to something "black" and watch everyone around you that ISN'T culturally aware, or at least respectful of your choices and understanding of how little it speaks about your character, stops taking you seriously. Somehow, getting braids meant I was to be treated more poorly, purely on the basis that it's a "black people thing", and that's supposed to be bad.

Fucking ignorant white people...


So me not being very attached to the hairstyle itself, I decided to take it out. At least I can say I did it for almost half a week, even went to work with it for 2 days. Whatever. I'm really upset right now. Time to get what little sleep I can afford before 4 days of Skyrim. What's that? Turkey and family time? No, fuck that. That shit's not happening for me, and I'm both used to and over it, much to the surprise of everyone.

I'm working a hell of a lot.

Also playing Skyrim like it's going out of style (despite it's release only ten days ago).

Money, money, more money, alone, braids (corn rows, actually), working and working some more, more money, weight gain, depression.


So basically I'm making tons of money now (compared to before). Also in line for a promotion, but I have to consider moving to St. Pete for it, which I'm unsure of. Due to the lack of apparent philogynous relations, I'm left to think strictly for myself on this regard. While I would enjoy more money, I hate moving all my stuff and would have even less reason to do anything. Ambition, how I lack thee!

Ah yes, my friend and newly appointed hairdresser, Dee Dee, did my hair this Saturday (as noted above). She just spent $800 on a couch set for her previously barren living room. She was watching her niece and her own two daughters the whole while, and I got to show them Ouendan! afterwards, which was pretty rewarding. Dropping $140 buying her groceries afterwards, simply because I needed something worthwhile to spend part of my then-$900 pile of electronic money. I'm happy with the decision as it fulfilled a need somewhere that was worth doing, and that whole crap about not wanting to feed other peoples' kids goes right out the window with me (yaay, philanthropy!). Suffice it to say, Dee Dee was ecstatic as well. Despite my obvious draw to her since the moment I first laid eyes on her (late-twenties bus driver with dark skin, amazing hair, wonderful attitude and a smile to match), I feel like I'm closer to her as a friend than I am with most people I know and have known for varying lengths of time. I maintain a respectful distance from her, understanding what our relationship is and what she's looking for externally, and it's so far been just what I needed: good times and good conversation. I just need to remember sometime to take her and her boyfriend to Ichiban; she's never had Japanese food and that fact concerns me.

Also, awesome encounter today:
Short Indian woman with short hair who I see every trip to the office (Mon/Wed/Fri) sat next to me on the bus since the spot she usually takes (right in front of me; there's about four of us who take the same exact seats every morning) was taken by some new person; all of them, actually. It was nice though. I just got my braids in, first day to work with them on and I decided to take my headphones off and actually talk to her. Hell, I've wanted to for a while but I'm kind of a shy person with a pretty inconspicuous way of showing it. I say that only because most people apparently have no idea and just think that I keep to myself because I'm happy just being by myself (not so much). Her name is Vashti.

So we get to talking and I tell her where I work, just past where we split up when walking to work, and what I do. I showed her my nephew's card and explained the purpose behind it, and my role in tech support with our software. We got further in the conversation and I decided to turn it around and ask about herself (something I'm much better at now than I feel I ever was). Apparently, she does Asset Management for Raymond James. She loves the freedom her job gives her and lacks the ambition to keep climbing because she's perfectly content doing what she's doing and lives comfortably, so it was really nice to meet someone else who has roughly the same perspective as me. The crazy part is how she single-handedly got Ray Jay to put in some sidewalks at the office park. They weren't there for over a year when I started commuting through there, but they started and were finished in under 2 weeks! She's also lobbying the Pinellas County Transportation Board (I think that's what it's called) to get some sheltered stops at the locations where we get off, but that's not in the near future yet. Least to say I'm thrilled to meet the woman who stood alone against the tyranny of the employment/automotive oligarchy and won; she's my hero(ine).

She's married, of course (unless having a ring on your left ring finger means something else?), so I'm working up the nerve to at least compliment her by urging her to remind her husband just how lucky he is. I have no idea if that'll even happen.

Also, most everyone at work got a kick out of the new hair. New pic up soon, just because.

So there's this WHOOOOLE BIG STORY about how Dean left (sadface) and how Mark replaced him for a month, got fired for being every which way of bad, and now Corey took his position and I now have many more hours at the office. What does that all mean? Drama, drama, DOLLA DOLLA BEELZ, and more job freedom. It's nice to know that I can pay for this two-bedroom apartment by myself and still eat and buy things. I just need to stop spending it all and hold onto some. I'm working on that...

I'll expand more on it later.

My sister is being deployed to Afghanistan in a couple of days now, and I just got back yesterday from visiting her in Alabama. MAN, that's a beautiful state! My ears kept popping from the pressure change as we drove through the mountain roads to get to her place. It was a really weird experience, but I loved the drive and the smell of the wildlife. On top of that, houses over there are HUGE for what we pay here.

I really had a wonderful time over there, hanging out with her friends. Alabama doesn't get enough credit, I think.

So this week has been a crazy one thus far. The housewarming party Shannon and I held was miserable for me but great for her, since all of her friends showed up and none of mine (save for Jules). She tried to get me drunk, but I've resolved to remain sober whenever I'm around her, lest I supply her with more ammunition with which to embarrass me further. What would've been a very mundane weekend turned into somewhat of a hellish start to a very startling chapter in my life.

Sunday night, when I should've been sleeping, I stayed up for a bit to relax and finish a few things before heading to bed for the morning shift. At around 1AM I heard 3 loud banging noises in quick succession. They sounded like someone slamming a hood of a car really hard, and at first I was going to be really lazy about it. I decided to at least look, since I was right next to the window, and I saw a car literally on fire. My first reaction was to find my cell phone and contact the police. It was a good call, but I couldn't find my cell. Then I remembered my other, disconnected AT&T phone that could still make emergency calls. I grabbed it and started dialing. That took all of maybe 20-30 seconds. I remember looking at my work phone but skipping over it because of the business it's tied to (which is based in St. Pete). It was in that moment I realized I was very good at keeping a clear and cool head in serious emergencies, talking very calmly and clearly into the phone and relaying the information as plainly as I could.

10 minutes later, the police and the fire trucks came. By that point, my neighbor was in tears and in great shock, seeing her car on fire and generally freaking out. She learned that I was the one to dial 911 and report the emergency, so she thanked me and she stuck around me. Having assessed the situation clearly, I decided that the best thing to do would be stick around and learn as much as I can, offering as much help as I could during that time. It was that morning that I finally met my neighbor Claudine. I stayed up all morning with her helping her stay calm and keeping her on track with what she had to handle. Apparently, I was instrumental to her mental health at that time, as she's made me aware.

Whoever set fire to her car has yet to be caught, and I don't know if it'll happen, but I do know that my neighbor is a very sweet lady with a wonderful demeanor and a good heart. For her own safety, she won't be staying here for very much longer, but I do think that I'll be seeing a whole lot more of her from now on. I'm glad too, since she seems like she's going to make a great friend. She's also taught something about myself, and I don't think I would've been able to recognize it without the input of someone as experienced as she: my crisis MO.

I'm very big on living life in my own way, doing things as I see fit, and just being happy in my own skin and within my own environment. Everyone who's ever had any serious problem with the way I do things generally takes issue with all of these little things, quantifying them and racking them up into this giant negativity monster that represents me in some way or another. Truthfully, there's a much bigger reason why I do this: I lose most of my stability when I give myself up to someone or something else entirely, in the interest of seeing something through to a positive end. I don't do this with just anything, however. I reserve this for serious emergencies. Things like death and violence are some of the only serious events where I truly am selfless, but I need the entire rest of my life to recharge and maintain my own persona of selfish isolation so that I'm always ready. Truthfully, it's rather small payment for anyone having to put up with me, but only those who've experienced what altruism I can offer can ever truly understand. It's for this reason alone that Shannon and I don't get along. That last statement is actually true with just about anyone who lacks real life experience, something you can't get from books, ideology, and leisure travel. The wise understand it, but the naive shun it.

I'm always the guy who's there for people when they most need it, often not really getting anything out of it and certainly not expecting anything. As much as I dislike being used, when push comes to shove, I don't question or complain; I see the path ahead of me and make decisions as I see fit to solve the problem when there's no time for anything else.

Come to think of it, that's the same thing I did when we were hitting the deadline moving Shannon's stuff. She was amazed at my leadership and management skills, and I made sure to compliment her and everyone else who helped, even if they could've been working faster. I'm not sure if I'm ready to be a leader, or if I even want all that power and control for more than brief periods of time, but at least now I understand why I continue to feel strongly about "my way"; it's not about being stubborn, it's about proven results.

It seems the more we fight, the closer we actually get. She's so damn stubborn about some things and spend entirely too much time on the "how" instead of the "what", as she puts it, which is why we come to odd ends. We think about the same things and reach the same conclusions mostly, but our paths differ at varying degrees. I just wish she'd either come lie in my arms or stop looking for my validation and reinforcement. Being single, this is particularly uneasy for me.

She has her moments, and I made it very clear to her in our most recent fight of what I think about her. I'm sure her ego is swelling from the compliments, which I gave without restraint. I'm unsure if she'll somehow use them to change the way we interact for the better, and I'm even less sure whether or not that's something I want.

Elsewhere, I'm reminded again of how far away I wish Orlando wasn't. Dya says I'm gorgeous. I think I'm sexy, but gorgeous isn't a word I would use to describe myself. Considering how little I'm complimented physically, I'm inclined to either surmise that everyone or very few agree with this opinion. I'd rather go with option A, especially since she makes me feel fantastic even just by doing so little.

Now she's just plain irritating me. She meets a new guy, claims he's just a friend and she's not looking for that because he's not (#1), he thinks she's super cool and they hang out a bunch. Whatever. She won't shut the fuck up about him, and that last thing I want to hear is about how much fun she's having with another member of the opposite sex that isn't me, especially not some new white guy who smokes cigarettes and has whatever. She takes naked photos of him and then he spends the night in her bed. I don't bother to assume what happened or didn't, but he's been around since early yesterday and he's going to be here again.

My response to being uncomfortable around new people is to shut myself in, and it's doing a great job of demonizing me, painting him as the fabled White Knight. I was really upset by it before, given her hypocrisies, but I've come to a new plateau where I can just be angry and brief about everything, patronizing and antagonistic wherever I can justify it. In doing this, I hasten all my encounters with her, leaving very little room for her to (in her words) "antagonize me" to "establish boundaries". After all, I really dislike dishonest people, but ignorant folk are just the worst; I don't discriminate about that.

So while I'm still pretty lonely and with nothing to do, I can keep blasting my music and giving her negative attitudes and (here's the kicker) it finally validates or otherwise brings sensibility to the way she'd been treating me before and now. It's funny that she starts to show some empathy when I'm visibly upset, and momentarily lowers her defensive barriers long enough to try and show some humanity, but it's a short-lived experience.

My active current now runs mostly deep red, but it's a stable one that I can get used to. It sure as hell beats the run/jog/walk/slide/tumble/dive/somersault that was the switch flipping I was riding before. If this bull throws me off, I know what to expect when I get back up again, even if I become more hardened in the process.