Tenacity: A Cunt in all its Forms

As you'll soon see, if I could start this one off with a relevant quotation, you wouldn't be here :P

It's 1:49 in the morning. Uni starts at 8:30 for me tomorrow. I should be asleep, or at least in bed trying to sleep. Insomnia's been a problem for me lately, oftentimes gatecrashing at around midnight and insisting I carry on playing Tetris, persist in listening to sceptics of religion, and write things like this when I should be tucked in. I've grown to hate this and have made considerable efforts to get back in line—it was fine when I didn't have a schedule to adhere to, but now I do, so it just serves to fuck me up and leave me without energy at a time when attentiveness is everything. I woke up later than usual yesterday morning which certainly isn't helping, but that's not why I'm up.

Fuck, make that 2:12 in the morning :P

Go back a couple of hours: I'm on YouTube, as per usual, when I get an email from Facebook: an invitation to an event of some kind. I'm not invited to events very often, nor do I know of any upcoming event I'd expect to receive an invite to, so I'm curious as to what it is. Upon taking a glance, I gather its a petition for some kind of music thingy, the invitation sent by one of the more musical people on my friends list. I start reading through it, and do a little research on the subject matter. Turns out there's a budget deficit issue at another uni that's lead them to plan to axe half the music staff, as to get the facility back in the black so to speak (a conclusion I'd more or less come to when I'd finished reading the text in the Facebook event: university's a business first and an educational facility second :P).

Didn't take long for me to process this: the students who applied for any qualifications stemming from participation in the music programs did so on what was advertised to them. What was advertised to them was, among other things, access to a comprehensive musical program led by all the staff that worked there, not just the half that'll keep their jobs if this goes ahead. That's retroactive false advertising, plain and simple. +1 signature for your petition. Thing was, the person who invited me still went to high school... so whose petition was it?

Then I saw the name up the top, having missed it when I first arrived at the page: Sally.

For some reason, as soon as I saw that name, I started to feel weird. I can't explain what it was, but I soon became restless and had to get out of my chair. I wasn't in some kind of uncontrollable fit, but I was certainly irritable. I was shaking a little too, pacing around my room, murmuring incoherently every now and then. After a good ten-to-fifteen minutes of that, I sat on my bed and just silently pondered the clusterfuck that was my brain at that point. I didn't understand what was going on. At some point during all this, as if in disbelief, I walked over to the computer and hovered over her name: up popped the little box with her picture. I'd done little more than see her name and her face, and my mind had gone into an infinite regression, my chest felt heavy and tense, and I was shaking—it may have only been mild, but it was still involuntary.

What the fuck happened?

Seriously, what was that? I want to know! It's not like this person's fucking traumatised me; she's just some girl I liked years ago, who I also happened to want to date and sleep with at my Year 12 Formal. This wasn't a repeat of such desire; it was anything but feelings of desire. It was just awkward, tense and uncomfortable, perhaps anxiety, leaving me unable to concentrate on anything else for a good fifteen to twenty minutes. I haven't been feeling the best lately (evident in the last two entries), but this wasn't depression; it was just strange, something I haven't really felt before, something I'd rather not feel again.

We have thoughts, but thoughts are fluid. Then we assign a word to a thought... and we're stuck with that word for that thought...

George Carlin

Replace 'word' with 'symbol', and that's my belief in terms of how we understand thought. I could be way off base, but that's what I think for the meantime: we understand thoughts by assigning symbols to them that we can relate to. In this case, I have no symbol to which I can relate almost anything that went through my head—no word, no phrase, no clause, no sentence, no paragraph, no picture, no video, no sound, no song, nothing. What did come back were simply the two most recent images I have of her: seeing her at the Formal after-party, the last time I would see her. Both images were mentioned in an article I published recently discussing those events and my previous writing on them.

One is of the very last time I saw her in the flesh:

[Right before I went home], I looked over one last time at the tent area to see Sally and her friends sitting around. Still, there was no smile.

The other, far stronger, is of the last time I spoke to her:

I returned to the camp-fire to see Sally still warming herself. I took the (only) spare seat next to her, and looked at her. She looked down... really down...

"Hello, Sally. How are you?"

"I'm alright... how are you?"

"I'm OK... ... ...you don't look like you're having very much fun."

"That's because I'm not."

Even though I want to remember her as the happy, kind-hearted girl I had feelings for all those years ago, the last time I saw her didn't capture any such emotion. Even her profile picture didn't deliver a look much different to the one I remember—it's honestly a stupid question, but I've even wondered if she's smiled at all since I last saw her. Any time I think of her (which, contrary to what this article may suggest, is far from often), those are the two images that usually end up dominating my memory. I don't want to remember her in that more positive way to instil feelings for her. If anything, I want to avoid having feelings for her—it's fucking moronic to think we could ever be something. We aren't even acquaintances, let alone friends; we have nothing in common with each other; we live in totally different places and do totally different things; we are incompatible. Granted, I can assert that these feelings aren't ones of love nor lust, but that doesn't mean I know what they actually are. 

I've heard things recently about people having feelings for others far beyond rejection, long after they've supposed to have moved on—I really, really don't want that. I have better things to do than ponder over a future I can guarantee won't come to light, and she has better shit to do than hear about me ever again (like, I don't know... worrying about her education :P). If I'm going to remember her at all, however that remembrance be inspired, I want it to be at least somewhat positive, not me having a mini-freakout over such nothingness as seeing her name :P 

I don't know why it hurts, and being a male (hence thinking everything's a competition :P), I want to know what's going on, to crush ignorance and misunderstanding under my foot and claim victory through knowledge and comprehension. Falling short of that, I'd just like it to stop and not happen again. Perhaps these feelings do mean something, and I don't want to block any emotion just because it makes me feel uncomfortable, but I hate feeling like shit for no reason.

3:31... sigh :P

Tension: Butter Knives Won't Cut It Because It Isn't Tangible

... do they have intangible butter knives? Where could I get one of those from? ...I suppose it doesn't matter whether I have one or not -- the tension is here to stay.

I have since seen my fancy for what is probably the last time. All the commotion is beginning to settle, the feelings are beginning to recede, and I'm beginning to wonder if it's worth doing this again when this is what's going to end up happening each and every time :P  Even the last day heralded signs of this whole thing being somewhat mutual, but the end of the day made it rather clear that the signs were just as I thought them to be: not signs. It's unusual going back and looking at all those little things she did...

"Surely, these things must have meant something!"

Nope.

"So... so all this just... happened?"

Uh-huh.

"Damn..."

The Tuesday began as they all have for the last few weeks: me getting off the train and running like a motherfucker in the hopes of catching up. The train arrived late, so I had to run the entire way; and I did! Slow down? What the fuck for!? I've got shit to do! At this point, the day is playing out like a poorly written, all but clichéd' romantic comedy :P  I ran, and I ran, and I ran... and I ran... and I... ran... and... I... ran... ... ...then I got there... ...to the place the meetings were held... "ah, shit! I've missed her! I must have ran past her again! God dammit!"

I sit down, catching my breath (it's weird how no one asked why I was breathing so heavily), and we all know who shows up five minutes later... from the other fucking direction! I came in from the east side; she came in from the west side! ... why!? I know which train station she gets off at! I walk past it on the way there, and that's the path she usually takes, so what's up with this tricky, ninja-like teleportation shit she's pulling here!? If I'd known, I just would have kept running! I don't give a fuck if I have to double back -- it's more than worth it! And an explanation, you think she'd ask for? I'd have just made one up -- who cares!?

"The main thing is that she's here. Things could be a lot worse, but they aren't, because she's here." They immediately wished her "happy birthday!", which I had to chime in for at the last second because I didn't know (I'm finding it harder each day justifying my decision to not use Facebook -- how else would they have known :P). She greets everyone with a friendly hug; and boy, was I looking forward to mine! She said nothing more than "hello, [name]!" with each hug, except mine (of course, mine just has to be different to make things more confusing), as she added on a "nice jacket!" with my greeting. I suppose it's just one more for the pile of things that can be easily misinterpreted as signs of something meaningful :P

Discussion was fruitful as I waited for the perfect moment to ask for her e-mail/phone number/whatever. "I'll take the first one I get! I don't care if these people figure everything out; I just want those details, dammit!" Unfortunately, she sat quite far from me (at the other end of the table >.< ) so I couldn't speak directly to her, or even move to sit next to her... poor girl didn't even have a seat! She was just kneeling at the table! I wanted to offer her a seat, but where she was, a seat wouldn't fit... she could have had my seat if she wanted! Hell, I'd be her seat :P  Seat or no seat, however, discussion continued; and my non-involvement in the conversation went against me as the subject matter turned to that which is ripe for disagreement: religion. See? I told you he was a motherfucker! I heard the word "evolution" come out of someone's mouth, and off they went.

I don't get it: there was not one person at that table who can prove the existence or non-existence of God, nor one who can explain fully how species have come to be! What the fuck were they arguing for!? No one side was going to sway the other, so what was the point!? We're writers, not scientists! Herp-a-derp indeed :P

After the meeting started, no hard feelings were felt, so all was well... but how was I supposed to talk to her now? She sat across from me, as if to taunt me with that oh-so-beautiful face I'll (probably) never lay eyes upon again, and the last meeting commences. Cake was brought by our mentors, but it had all kinds of things in it that turned me right off -- since when were poppy-seeds in cake!? Seriously! "Luckily" (I use the term lightly :P) my fancy just happened to have with her a box, inside of which was a lone muffin. Upon hearing of my lack of appeal for the cake: "Oh! Would you like this muffin instead?" ... does she even have to ask? Really? "Oh, sure! :D" It's chocolate, so I'm on that motherfucker like it's nobody's business :P  I'd have eaten it in one big mouthful, but, you know... still trying to make an impression here :P

The meeting goes on, and we near the end. We somehow get on to the topic of formatting the scripts, and I'm immediately mentioned because my formatting skills are super-duper-elite, apparently :P  The mentor goes so far as to ask me to explain how I format my scripts, and I do so, with my fancy being the only one to reply, with something along the lines of "really? So you just make a table in Word with two columns, and make the grid invisible? Genius." Genius? Genius!? What the hell was that!? What is she: the Queen of Hyperbole? Little Miss Exaggeration? It doesn't matter how you look at it though -- that was a clear cut compliment right there, man! There's no denying that one; no doubt about it. Unfortunately, it only served to confuse me further :P

Not long after, I was sent out to do an errand. Everyone else was saying their goodbyes, and I was taking one for the team; one I'd have rather not taken. As soon as I arrived back, they took a group photo (I am yet to receive it, and I want it; and we all know why :P), then she just... left! I saw her put on her bag and simply walk out the door! She said goodbye to no one -- not even me -- but she'd probably taken care of that whilst I was out of the room! Ain't fate a bitch :P  I thought all was lost... until someone realised she'd left her container behind! Her friend, however, was far quicker than I was to pick it up and run screaming her name down the hallway in her attempt to get it back to her... I should have snatched the fucking thing out of her hand and pushed her out of the way, but alas, I did not.

And thus ended (rather abruptly) the escapade.

I have since sent the girl an e-mail with the address I acquired months ago, simply asking if we could keep in touch -- I had no chance to ask there, so what the hell, right? Unfortunately, however, she is yet to respond (if ever :P). It could be the fact she doesn't check her e-mail often; it could be the fact she's on a trip and can't check her e-mail; it could be the fact that she doesn't want to talk to me :P Who knows? A few more days and I'll call the quits all together... perhaps :P  As much as I talk about the past, and what could of happened, my friend left me with a rather strong statement:

"It couldn't have happened any other way, because it happened, and you're still here."

Too true... too true...

If there's anything to take from this, it's as follows: do shit while you can still do it. Leave nothing for later, and hesitate no longer on those things you want so badly. You're going to have to take chances, but that's half the fun, so get in there and have some fun! You might have to prepare, and you might have to sacrifice, but it's all worth it in the end :)

Perversion: The Drug That Keeps on Giving

Being the age I am, certain mindsets tend to take control at times. For a number of years now, I have been somewhat obsessed with the physical nature of women; no more obsessed than any other man, but still curious to such a degree that I find myself thinking about the feminine physique far too often. Of course, I’m not looking for an answer as much as I’m looking for more questions: “what does that part of her look/feel/taste like?” I’ve come to realise that sometimes I’m just one sick motherfucker :P In a monologue I wrote recently, I directly implied that my character wanted to suck the nipples of the girl he desired… where the fuck did that idea come from? My own fantasy!? I don’t remember fantasising about that! That’s messed up, man! What’s worse is that I then turned that joke in to the punch-line! I don’t think lust or sex (or anything else) is off limits to the word, written or spoken, but I have to question my inspiration for that particular set of lines :P I was pissing myself laughing at the possible effect those lines could have on an audience; call me arrogant, but if I don’t think the jokes are funny, who will? Confidence in one’s material is key for a comedian; for any writer or performer. But, at the same time, I was also perplexed by just what gave me that idea.

I’ve spent way more time liking girls than I’ve spent actually being with them. I’m not sure if that’s the case for most guys, but that’s the case for me. The thrill of the chase is half the fun, and half the time you’re chasing your own brain trying to get it to stop pondering the subject! “Does she like me back? Does she even like me at all? Does she even like guys? Does she even like people? What if she doesn’t like me back? What if she doesn’t like me at all? What if she doesn’t like guys? What if she doesn’t like people?” These answers won’t come about when all you’re doing is looking at her shapely figure! That’s all you’ve got to go off so far; you don’t have any useful information yet! Perhaps this is why there were (and certainly still are) men who see women as objects; they see a woman’s body as mere advertising, and their “duties” as their function. Is your woman misbehaving dysfunctional? Get a new one! We’re shallow people, us men. We go straight off what we see, but that’s the first thing we get a glimpse at: her body! I like to see it as just one of the ways to begin to discover someone, whilst understanding that there’s a fuckload more to a woman than her humps.

Having had a girlfriend, hence having at least some experience in this area of life, the first step with this new fancy of mine is determining whether there is any substance behind the attraction. Before I met my girlfriend, there was nothing but physical desire shaping my draw to girls; that’s puberty for you :P Been there, done that, and I ain’t going back, not even for fun in the sack. Upon meeting my girlfriend, however, and learning about whom she was and the things she liked, then going back and comparing them to the things I liked, it just clicked! There was now genuine backing behind the magnetism, and so it could be further explored for a substantial purpose rather than just for tail! Being back at square one (or square two, if finding a girl is the first step – the steps vary between geometrics :P) means that entire process must occur again. As much as I want to find out more about this girl so I can start to think about the next course of action, is it because I want to chew her brain, or eat her out? I suppose at this point, I want one thing to lead to another :P …shouldn’t have used that emoticon…

Having said that though, what do you do right after you see? You hear, of course! What a girl says is what provides you with the information necessary to make an informed decision as to whether or not the pursuit should continue. The problem is that normally, I see this girl each at a scriptwriting workshop I attend for only 2 hours, for which 0% of the time is spent socialising. I can only speak or listen to this girl before and after the session. Having heard this girl speak only a few times, she seems like a genuinely kind person, but I’ve also heard that she’s outgoing and a bit of a talker, so at this point I know that she’s somewhere between “naïve tenderfoot” and “total bitch;” I suppose I need more information, and in the absence of information, I over-analyse what little information I already have. For example, I missed a session due to my recent illness. When I went back the next week, she greeted me with a big smile on her face and asked me how I was, yet we don’t speak very often and she doesn’t know me that well. That kind of vague shit is exactly the kind of thing one can go nuts trying to figure out! “She said hello and asked me how I was… does that mean she likes me? Does that mean that she’s interested in me as a person, in my condition, in my status? Or was she just being polite? Surely, if she liked me, she would have continued conversation after she greeted me… or perhaps she’s feeling the same way and is too scared to do so! Maybe she’s just the type of person who says hello to everyone. Maybe she’s just an incredibly hot alien from out of space!” If left to my own devices, this can go on for weeks at a time.

After seeing her today though, I feel that all this has at least some potential to blossom. Rather than thinking of her lovely lady parts, this time I was drawn by the seemingly bottomless depths of beauty that are her eyes. My God, they are pretty! It must be something about the colour green blue (they look so similar, seriously :P) that fucks my head right up. It seems a bit ridiculous though; what the hell am I looking her eyes for anyway!? Do I want to give myself away? For fuck’s sake, even if she’s not looking at me, she can probably still see me looking straight at her out the corner of those same eyes I’m looking in to! I’d make a shitty covert-ops agent, man. Then again, my previous fancies have given me two and a half years of ogling skill- oh, there I go again. See? I can’t help myself. Having said that though, I now have expressions with even less clarity to deconstruct. Get this: she said my handwriting was “arty.” …what? My handwriting is what? My handwriting is messy and borderline illegible, not arty! Shit, I can barely read it at the best of times. How’s that for irony, huh? This is the sort of nonsense you spout when you’re… talking to someone you like! Take it from someone who knows: you say some crazy shit when your heart is racing and your mind is fleeting. I could be (and probably am :P) reading too far in to it, but it’s interesting to analyse nonetheless.

In spite of all this confusion (which I sincerely apologise for… seriously :P) the clincher for me is the how radiant I was for those few hours. In that room, I’d never felt more comfortable to speak; to be myself. I was making cracks left, right and centre, and people were laughing! That’s my natural style: to fuck around! And I was fucking around and around and around!  Once she was out of my sight, my face lit up. After two hours of holding it back, I’m walking the streets with this monstrous grin on my face, the kind you don’t need a mirror to check up on. I was happy! What I was saying before about depression works: just think about good shit, and the bad shit disappears! It’s the same feeling I had before I broke up, but now magnified due to its previous absence! There’s nothing like that unexplainable visceral sentiment that fills one’s system when they see who they think to be the greatest person in the world for reasons they can’t explain: the undisputed king of emotions, in my books. All you’re thinking about is her as she smiles and talks with you in hypothetical bliss.

Oh, and before I forget… can one of the more experienced readers tell me just what a vagina tastes like? I wanna know before I start making requests :P