Tag: Thoughts

First aid

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When’s the right time to let the blood flow freely? When’s the right to apply pressure? A few days ago I had written a post that details the last lingering feelings and thoughts I had for the most recent MMO that I’ve played but hid it after an hour or so. If the purpose of the post was to move on, why am I even writing such a post? And yet, I back tracked on that decision because I felt it had to be known and out there. It had to exist.

People cope in different ways. Some can completely block a chunk of reality while others forever overthink. Even in my last break up, I’ve had several people give varying views. Still be here friend. Wish her well. Tell her to go fuck off. It’s not right to harbor negative emotions. It’s healthy to despise people.

After all, I despise my father and have completely moved on in my life. Even though he reached back to me asking for my social security number (assuming he was probably putting me as a beneficiary in case he passed away), I rejected him and told him that I am perfectly fine the way things are. This bridge has long been burnt and a massive wall has been built in its place, with me no having no plans to scale it.

And yet there are times where I do simply let it go, because I felt any hold on my emotions is an L on my scorecard. It takes energy. Especially when it’s regarding people that have absolutely no bearing to my livelihood. So, in that vantage point, I should have simply let it go, right?

Issue was, it wasn’t about the pointless people that I had spent more than an hour typing about. It was about me. The situation was set that, I had absolutely no one to tell my side to completely. I felt completely hopeless in a situation that I should have never been part of. By sweeping this under the rug, it invalidates those times where I felt wronged. It invalidates the anger that I had. Or rather, have.

And is that anger towards myself? Towards them? Yes. Because I should have fought back. It was not until the very end where I decided to put both middle fingers up and no longer take shit. This whole nice guy side of me forever keeps me finishing last. I’ve said it before that it’s easier to blame myself because I can’t change others. Problem is, I’m taking hits I shouldn’t be taking. I can only tank for so long.

I need healing, too.

So I republished that post. My feelings are my feelings. My anger needs to rage on, or else bottling inside will suffocate me. And even if no one knows the complete story of things, I still have the takeaways, the lessons learned from it. After all, I do need fuel for my art.

Less of “I’m sorry” and way more “Fuck it.”

Mementos

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I consider myself a materialistic sentimental person. I love to buy things, expensive purchases even. And yet, the things that I keep sentimental are cheap in nature but hold such intrinsic value. And to be honest, that boiled down to two things in my life. One being a dolphin necklace that had a piece of rice with my name in it inside of a glass vial and a 2006 Disney glass with Pinocchio and Dumbo on it from McDonalds. The former was never returned to me and the latter shattered on the floor just a few days ago. Fourteen years of service, that glass is surely missed. It was with me from high school throughout college and the first decade of my career.

And yet, two replacement glasses are on their way from eBay. Obviously won’t feel the same. It was faded, the artwork you can barely even make out. And yet, if only I could get the original back, of course I’d do it. It was the most static thing in my dynamically tumultuous life. I remember the day I got it, I was actually skipping class. I remember filling it halfway on the first night I became drunk. It was big enough to also be the only container I’ve ever used to eat my helping of Cookies n Cream.

Out of everything in this world that I could have chosen to “treasure” and “cherish,” it was a glass. Not the most Show and Tell worthy of all things. Just a glass. I filleth. I spilleth. I droppeth. And this serendipitous feeling of comfort and attachment applies to people, too.

Still, there’s a feeling I’ve been trying to figure out. Been more than a year now. I’ve written about it before and thought I knew but a part of me feels like there’s more to explore. Maybe in due time.

What separated this particular glass from all the glasses in the world?