My brain seems to be screaming out with some sort of creative impulse. Though my thoughts are incomplete as to what form in will have or through which medium it should be. Aren't you supposed to have an idea of what you're doing before you start?? Something tells me I should just draw for a bit, see what spews forth. I have a feeling I will be up late tonight.

I have no idea what I want. I can't tell whether I love someone, or whether it's a matter of attraction for the wrong reasons, or its really just a passing fancy and that I really just like thinking about them, or if its all just an illusion based on expectations and a false perception that there is anyone out there aside from a few people that are actually worth my time. My attentions are currently spread in various and entirely useless directions, and I don't have the wherewithal to try to break out and pursue anyone. I guess that's the trouble, I naturally spread my attentions, but I spend my time around someone who is very possessive of the people who pay him attention, and though I want to break out, I have yet to really find someone whose positives outweigh all of his, to be worth it enough to say "I want to end our situation." And that's the trouble as well, I don't actually want to end what we had, but I can't live in that by itself. I have no clue what to expect now that he thinks I've slighted him, but I'm sure it will be unpleasant for at
least a little while.

Typically, before I ever get to putting words on a page, I've said most of what I was going to say a dozen or more times to myself. I was going to write some self-important drivel about inspiration and originality, but I'm going to stuff that for now. I'm in danger, or perhaps crisis of losing my best friend. All because I was not perceptive enough to ask permission, or at least let him know that I was going to make a little side trip, and that it happened to be with some friends of his as well. Now I'm suspect of running around and I'm losing a hell of a lot of privilege, which honestly probably should have happened sooner, but I don't want to lose the respect or understanding that I had with him.

 I have no idea what to do here. I've said I'm sorry, and that it's not what I want, but I don't particularly have a choice if he decides to cut off. I do wish he would figure out what the hell he actually wants, and tell me. It's amazing to see someone who doesn't believe in "love" or "relationships", but shits his logic degree when its clear he's reacting in a very emotional way.

Right now, I don't know what I need either, aside from a sedative.

More stressful and vivid dreams, more unrequited/complicated love, more crushing financial responsibility leaving me feeling paralyzed. I feel indescribable as of this moment. I want to run as much as I want to somehow instantly fix everything as much as I want to lay down and never get up again. I feel this become mostly a negative feelings purge journal. I suppose I need it. I feel lonely and cared for simultaneously. Everything around me is momentarily discomfiting. It will go away, and it will come back later. I'm slipping into depression again, and I need it to go away fast. I can feel myself struggling to stay away from it as I gauge and try to prioritize carefully my sleep, my diet, my activity level, and my daily planning/organization. It's difficult to be vigilant against something when its the very thing that makes you feel so fuzzy around the edges.

How can I be so happy to see that someone I love has found love, but just as heartbroken that I'm not in the picture?

Such a strange deja vu premonitory sequence played in my head, and it started with a video of Julee Cruise singing something from Twin Peaks.

I remember seeing the one comment, one like on my friend's status where it was posted, and trying to play the link but youtube wouldn't let me play it on mobile, though somewhere down the line my friend thanks me for saying anything because he feels like sometimes people don't care. Then as I'm browsing other videos Sam comes into my room to talk about my other romantic interests/concerns. He's obviously bothered by it at first, but we have a lengthy and honest discussion in my room.

And none of this has actually happened, but I felt as though part of it was supposed to when I was looking through the videos after following that link. I sometimes wonder about the finer workings of this universe.

I want to run away, but you can't really run away from grief. Even if I could, I can't afford to go much beyond my own apartment right now.

I fell for someone, much harder than I ever thought or expected I would. And they don't want me. Or at least, they don't want a relationship, and don't seem to think I'm high-commitment material anyways.

I feel like a prisoner in my own body right now. I can't even see them in person to talk to them right now because I lack the means, and they're...preoccupied.

I have been at a slight unease, and I ache for autumn, even thoug it is yet an unfathomable whisper in my memory. It is dry and breezy, and there are already trees surrendering their leaves to the ground. If only that were a signal of seasonal change instead of a symptom of this awful drought. The entirety of this week is to be miserably sunny and warm.

Yes, I know. My first peep in weeks, and it's just to blather about the weather.  Well, perhaps more than that. There are efforts afoot that I haven't reported on here, though they've been longstanding and tedious enough that it feels trite to explain them in any detail when I've spoken about such matters elsewhere. Suffice it to say that job hunting is an emotional and physical drain, I'm actually trying my hand at sewing beyond pillows and basic hand stitches, and I have a lot of art films to write about, and even more to watch.

 I've also had a great deal of internal emotional struggle that I don't care to elaborate on right this second, since the situation is a tad complex, and the walls(or rather, the windows) may have eyes.

So, I've had an enriching couple of days with art film. Courtesy of Sam, I watched a DVD full of David Lynch's short films. They were wonderful. It was neat to see his handiwork in regard to animation(he began as a visual arts student), as well as the general execution of some of his ideas in shorter form. The Grandmother was a real treat. And The Cowboy and the French Man(or was it the French Man and the Cowboy?) was entirely ridiculous. I don't think I've ever laughed that much at deadpan, bare-faced humor and purposely(I hope) bad acting. Stereotypes can be fun to mess with. :P

I also had the surprise pleasure of finding and watching Begotten. I was completely unfamiliar with E. Mehrige, the director(though I'm also unfamiliar with plenty others), and it seemed to me that his directing profile did not really reflect the type of film this supposedly was. But I checked it out.

Eighty minutes of 8mm, black and white footage later, I was kind of stunned. Overtly raw and sexual, it was a sort of horror of metaphysical entities. I found myself entranced by the light and shadow play, as well as the jerky motions of the Son of Earth and the strange robed men who find him. Along with having no dialogue, there are very mysterious moments in which you only catch a few frames of a specific shot, and with the grainy footage you may only get an implication of what you think you may have seen. It does seem purposeful, and adds a dimension of reality where there shouldn't be as if you were really witnessing an awful event but it's happening so suddenly that you're not entirely sure that what you're seeing is actually happening, or of the actual intent of the entities involved.

The other quality that really stood out to me was the use of sound. There was a very complex sound design, despite having no dialogue. There were musical moments, but they were few and rather bare. The focus lay in ambient sounds.There would be segments where all you could hear was some sort of cricket or cicada, then perhaps a bird, or liquid trickling, or metal banging, or gravel crunching. The sounds were obviously reflective of the story, or even premonitory as to what would happen in a minute or so. Sounds would then be blended so that perhaps you heard the cricket, then prevalently gravel but still with crickets in the background, and sounds added and subtracted from that, and so on. Most of these sounds made returns, and I often found myself being somewhat disoriented by the fading in and out and refocusing of certain sounds.   

I have time again. This weekend was a blur of frenetic stage energy. I'm actually pretty proud of our department. And I did grow as a performer. So in all, it was still worth the ball-ache.

I'm bored, which sounds bad, but its actually kind of great because I only feel bored, instead of bored and depressed, which has been the status quo for a while. It means I can motivate myself again instead of feeling as though everything I do is to no avail.

I've been thinking more about my possibilty of being polyamorous. I'm not sure I'll be applying it any time soon, but since I've accepted the fact that I desire other people (and honestly have during mine and Sam's   relationship), my anxiety over his future hookups seems to have disappeared almost entirely. It was all related to my own guilt and shame. Go figure.

Today was okay. I felt good about the work I did, and it wasn't too, too stressful. I've even come back from my little brain slump on lumosity. Unfortunately I feel kind of whooped, so its been difficult to concentrate much this evening, and I've somehow turned down another chance to see a local band I've been wanting to see for a while now. I guess I am just not feeling the bar scene tonight. And anything that requires me to be on my feet just doesn't sound appealing as of this moment.

Oh, but Tuesday wasn't so bad. I feel like I don't include enough of the days where I'm okay, or at least not feeling so shitty that it affects my entire day. That includes about half of the days where I don't write.

My heart has been pounding for the past hour. I feel like my body is displaced, floating in and around objects. I'm a little dizzy, but not too bad. Mostly I've been staring into a dark window into a hall for the past fifteen minutes, seeing if the void really stares back. I keep thinking about the exchange I had with Sam earlier, about my state of mind. Of course psychology and psychiatry is rife with inadequacies and inaccuracies. I don't even know that I need SSRIs, but at this point I'm willing to try them if it will help my daily attitude and motivation. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired already, but now that I know its something that can be altered, I plan on doing what I can to obliterate this sense of despair, and I'm reaching for the tools available to me. I don't pretend that a pill is going to fix my problems. What I am hoping it will do is eventually get me to a consistent state of motivation so that its easier to work through the many personal issues I'm now confronting in the open. I wish that I could say I know what's best for me. I don't. But I need to at least try to look out for my own interests in the way I see fit, even if it goes against trusted advice. I feel just a little in over my head with this medication, but I also feel my stress catching up with me in a way that causes a very dark sensation to creep into my chest and steal my breath. I'd rather deal with the former at this rate.

I can't help but notice I feel the need to write often after talking with Sam. What can I say? The bastard stimulates my brain.

Bad Metaphor

The acceptance
The realization
The wisdom I seek

Is like the sunlight
which filters through
the blinds in my house

Of which I dare not open
Not yet, for I know
I will show all how naked I am

Buuuuuh...

This doesn't even apply to a relationship, but its still an idea I've been trying to wrap my head around.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8SOQEitsJI 

Someday I want to be able to have new connections for myself. I already have new eyes on me. They aren't necessarily the ones I want, but its a reminder that the world is large and that I can forge new paths, even if there's still someone close to my heart. I've even thought that perhaps I'm meant more for a polyromantic path, and perhaps polysexual, but its too early to tell. I just cling too dearly to one fabric in particular right now and until I can love it without dragging it into an abyss, I don't think its a good idea to forge anything new.

There is no *enough*. No one person can ever be enough, because they are only human. I put him on a pedestal so high into space that I likened him to a distant star, of whose virtue I could never even touch, and I think I likened myself to a servant after a while. I would even punish myself if I didn't do something the way he asked it to be done(not physically, just mentally). How sickening, and how horribly appropriate for an ambitious narcissist and an appeasing depressive. 

I feel like I should not be alone right now. I need someone who I can talk to, face to face. So far I've had no luck reaching anyone though. Night before Easter at 11:30, I don't expect many people to be up. Not the singers at the very least. Jessi isn't answering. Most of the people I see online have no car or are out of the area. I need a friendly face.

I hate this, I'm making myself ill. I sincerely hope I'm wrong and I hate that I assume every female he interacts with is someone he could be intersted in. And yet I don't think I'm wrong, and that makes it feel as though the bottom of my stomach has dropped out. And he's been out of town with this person since Wednesday, and the chances of them having times by themselves are likely, even alongside a group of people. I want to be outside of myself so badly right now.

Empty hands
with which we have only tears to fill
The remnants of a mosaic of dreams

Dry lips
No longer embraced
No more romantic thoughts implanted

Untouched body
No longer explored, admired
nor of wondrous curiosity expressed
more cursory or habitual

Empty eyes
No longer are side glances returned
No excitement
No expectant joy
No flicker of a lasting impression

Lonely Breath
on a cold sheet
in a dingy room
by a leaden heart
to an indifferent stone

I'm miserable and stupid for writing this

I strongly desire to just look at my face in the mirror and be proud of it. Be content with its form, and accepting of its flaws. I believe there was a time I could do that. I catch a glimmer, sometimes. I've found that its difficult to describe my own face. I've actually tried on many occasion but I tend to stop myself short. I don't want to make myself sound more ideal than I am, but it gets to the point where I can't own up to the qualities I truly believe I possess. This obviously applies to more than just my face. My therapist asked me to make a list of positive qualities I think I possess. She also said to put marks next to those I'm afraid to own up to. So far I don't think I've found a single one that I am confident of. This is about more than presumption(as in, the worry that my view of myself does not reflect reality), and is instead focused more upon confidence. The first is not actually as important as I make it out to be. Humility is nice, but its those who believe in themselves who get so far so easily, even if their confidence betrays their actual skill. And I'm afraid to take the risk of being wrong. I'm not going to get anywhere with that attitude. :/

Attempts

I try not to post work from other people on here. It's about my reflections, typically. However, I found in this little writing a reflection of myself. http://8-bitreality.com/archives/2691

Granted, Ive neber tried to take my own life. But I've experienced those moments of despair, of suffering so deep and often unprovoked that it turns you cold. You don't know how to enjoy things. You know there may not even be a good reason, only that you feel horrible and would just rather die than to keep experiencing a numb, foggy existence.

The worst part is when someone asks you what is wrong. Its not that the question itself bugs me, I just often feel mute. I'm not entirely sure what's wrong, nor do I know how to express it. But most people don't want to know or don't know how to publicly deal with the fact that you're in the midst, so you just fake like you're tired. I've never attempted but I've certainly been tempted during bleak times.