Drunken rant about my feelings and shit no. 1
Where to begin, where to begin? I sit here on my shitty inflatable mattress alone drinking and watching movies. The types of movies I have been drawn to this sad evening are mild comedies of a romantic nature. Why do I watch these types of movies at such a key point in my time on this earth? Is it because I am in a dark place in my life given the divorce I am going through and my unease about my transition into the civilian sector? Is it because I am a hopeless romantic who needs to see love fall on triumph on the big screen, in the hopes that some of that magic might translate to me and give me meaning again. It is uncertain to me at this moment, but I do not give up hope that I can find the love that is meant for me out there. As it is brought up in one of my favorite songs of all time, It can happen by Yes; it can happen to you, it can happen to me, it can happen to everyone eventually. As you happen to say, it can happen today, as it happens it happens in every way. Music is a powerful thing. Another lyric of a song also instantly pops into my head relating to this matter. In Jet Airliner by the Steve Miller Band they say you know you've got to go through Hell before you get to Heaven. Does this mean that by having this relationship end I am working my way through Hell so I can finally get to Heaven to be with my angel? If so then how long do I have to wait? If only real life were like a Hollywood movie script then during my harsh breakup I would have another girl, maybe even two, to help take my mind off of it. Sadly though the real world doesn't work like that. And maybe it's my fault. I don't think I am exactly ready to jump into a relationship with another girl so soon, but I think I could use some company from the fairer sex. But out here I don't have many friends other than the people at work. And don't get me wrong, they are some pretty cool guys, but they don't exactly get what I'm going through, even the ones who have already been divorced. I have always considered myself to be somewhat of a unique individual. Somehow I received things that either other guys didn't, or that the other guys aren't capable of using. Now logically someone is inclined to think of themselves as a superior person, someone who can rise above the level of society and go beyond what they think their normal counterparts can. And everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I think more often than not those guys are just fooling themselves and they are no different from any other man. In my case however I really think I have accessed something that the majority of males tend to discard. While it is true that a small part of me would love to go out and find a random girl to bang and leave it at that, I think the part that is mainly in control is perfectly fine at this point being celibate. I feel that at this point maybe I am meant to put the distraction of women aside and focus on higher things, like my own happiness outside of a relationship, or maybe my writing, or maybe my impending journey. Maybe out there in the midst of nature will I find out who I am truly meant to be? Maybe it is time for me to go into a Henry David Thoreau phase and live isolated among nature to figure myself out. I could become a child of the land and forget all of the troubles of the world. But if I did that where would that leave my family? I know they would miss me, even though they already miss me after almost five years of nearly total absence, only popping around for a few weeks a year and then heading back out to my shallow, lonely existence. I can't help but smile during these times though, for something inside of me is so ridiculously happy that it scares me a little bit. Because I think that if I am this happy on my own, stuck in a job that I hate so intensely and makes me so miserable that I begin to hate myself, then what could possible happen to me when I am free from these shackles, free to pursue a love that will soothe my heart. I know I am pretty drunk right now and my thoughts are muddled, jumping from point to point like some A.D.D. afflicted rabbit, but I also know from experience that I am the most open and honest when I am intoxicate. It truly is the elixir of truth, instead of some made up concoction featured in one of the Harry Potter movies. From this point in life I feel confused and alone and nervous about the future, but then I reflect on my age and realize that in all likelihood the majority of my age group feels the same way. In as many ways as I am different from my peers I am also the same in many of the important aspects. So am I at all worried about my mental health? Hell no. Feeling all these things and being curious and scared is about as normal as a person can get. Society may deem it odd and crazy if they wish, but I think the people that stick to that point of view are feeling the exact same things, but are too afraid to admit it and ruin their precious reputation. The problem with people nowadays is that they are rarely honest. They are not willing to open themselves up and be truly vulnerable because they aren't sure if the people they are around will accept them. Dr. Seuss has said one of the smartest things I have ever heard, and this particular quote is probably my favorite quote of all time. He says, be who you are and say what you feel, for those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind. As simple as that quote is I believe it has changed my life in some way. Another quote I think about quite often is taken from a short dialogue between to characters in the movie What Dreams May Come. The quote goes, "Where is God in all of this?"
"Oh, He's up there. Somewhere… shouting down that He loves us. Wondering why we can't hear Him?"
I have no idea why I bring up that quote right now, but it is one of those big things I wonder about sometimes when I am lying in bed waiting for sleep. Stilled after the commotion of the day and trying to find peace before I drift off into another world. I can't even begin to think of my original point at this moment, but there is something cathartic about pouring out my feeling onto this blank screen. Maybe someone will read this someday and have an idea of what makes me tick. I have always thought I would be a fascinating subject to study. Even after my brain injury I think I am perhaps one of the most interesting and challenging people anyone could ever meet. I don't owe it all to myself; my best friend Tomas has had such a profound impact on my youth and development of character as a man. Sometimes I wonder if I would be the same person I am today if I had never met him, but when I do I stop myself because that is such a sad and bleak reality that it depresses me to think about it. He is in fact the person who inspired me to become a writer in the first place… sort of. Before I got the idea for my first book, of which he was the major inspiration, I attempted to woo a girl with the fancy language of the poets with the help of the person who introduced me to Tomas in the first place, my runner-up best friend Kevin. That was just a brief period of infatuation that led me to the world of poetry, and I still think I have a knack for writing a quality poem, but because of the work Tomas has done without even being aware of it I have found myself in the grip of the Narrative. Writing the Great American Novel has been a passion of mine since the fall of 2004, sadly enough about a week or so before my mother's father passed away of lung cancer. Part of me is regretful because he never got to see how talented I could be in this live, but another part of me thinks that if I can be successful in what I do that I can feel his pride from the other side. I know there is nothing I can do to bring him back, but I think that if he were able to see me somehow that he would be proud of me. But the sad thing is now that I have served in the military I have lost sight of what my extended families true feelings are about me. I know they will love me no matter what, and that they are proud of my, but I can't help but wonder if I were to die before I realized my full potential what they would be the most proud of. When I do get to come home for those few weeks a year it is usually for some occasion, whether it be a holiday or a birthday, and it usually involves a meal at my grandmother's house, or sometimes at a restaurant of a mutual choosing. Then it is usually a little bit of time of superficial catching up with many of the older adults, usually 40 and older, and then a bit more real with the cousins, 30ish and younger. During these times it is usually eating and watching whatever sporting event might happen to be on. I feel so disconnected from everyone I know back at home, especially with my high school friends who I rarely see when I go home due to time and vehicle restrictions. Sorry about that, I got distracted with Facebook and whatnot. I think it is about time to wrap things up here. I know I have plenty of other issues to deal with, that's why there is always a volume two, and three, and four if I need it. Wrapping things up is a lot harder than it seemed initially. I am still here and still have more to say. Ah hell, I need a break and so does the rest of America. Good night everyone. But the kid rallies and there is a lot of new things to say. It is really sad but the part of me that gets drunk and doesn't care about what others think is also the same part that wants to openly communicate with anyone and everyone who will have me. It is probably the saddest part of my wiring diagram, but the only time I feel ballsy enough to talk to anyone, especially high school friends is the part of me that gets totally wasted. Is something wrong with me? Why do I only get comfortable enough to socialize when I am drunk? Am I a selective mute Just like Rajesh on The Big Bang Theory? Do I rely solely on alcohol to bring me closer to the people I knew years ago? Why is it that I feel I can take on anything, take on the world really, when I am under the hypnotic spell of distilled spirits? Maybe that is why I didn't make as many friends as I could have during my school days. Is it because I was timid and content with hiding within my carefully crafted shell? Or did I just hate people? Was I misanthropic and didn't even know it at the time? Now that I have the life experience of an almost 5 year Marine with 3 tours of combat under my belt; twice to Iraq and once to Afghanistan, am I free to love people in ways I never imagined. And I don't mean a sexual way, although I am more comfortable talking to females than I used to be, it doesn't mean I am seeking only sex from them. In fact the opposite is true, I mainly now seek advice from the feminine of sexes on how to figure out where I went wrong on my epic path through life. I know I through the word Epic and Awesome around all the time, but I am merely a victim of my generation, a fad of the times so to speak. I know for a fact that without all of the television and movies in which I indulge myself in I would still be a unique and incredible person to have a conversation with, I am still a product of the environment I am forced to exist in. As bizarre as it might sound I am just another lonely guy in pursuit of validation of the peer group he once belonged to. All of the fame and glory in the world wouldn't mean nearly as much as the approval from my peer group, more so the people I went to high school with than the common age Marines I am forced to interact with, although the difference would be minute given the scale of all people who held my common age or status. In the end I guess it doesn't really matter which audience I reach, for my goal all along has been to create some material which would greatly alter an individual's life, it could be one or it could be hundreds, but as long as my work touched the life of just one person I think I would be satisfied. Much like the young man in the movie Orange County I want my work to speak to someone and have them aspire to be more than they ever thought they could be. If it doesn't happen I guess I will keep on living just the same, and if it does happen I guess I will be okay too. I just wish for everyone to achieve their highest dreams, and I desire for the world to be a place desirable to raise children for generations to come. I really hope that all of this apocalypse talk is just nonsense and mankind will reach a gentle and peaceful age of shared technology, but given modern warfare tactics I doubt that is the case. In summary I hope to make a lasting impact on the literary world, much like the works of Shakespeare I hope to be studies hundreds of years after my death and I hope the themes and elements I present will be relevant to all people from now until the foreseeable future. In all my future prospects and yours, the reader, I hope for the best and brightest future. To all of those who have doubted me along the way I hope you appreciate having known me while you did, and for all of those who have supported me and wished me the best from you silent watchtowers I wish upon you the fortune that favors the bold. Good night world, I hope you have prepared yourself for the future.