I flatly broke down crying last night and my roommate caught me. i swear, I started around last year and it’s like once a quarter. Mostly it starts from mock trial but I don’t think it’s the whole story. I mean, I hate being treated like crap, but I don’t know, I don’t think that alone warrants the strong and unexpected reaction. I think it might be build-up tension and stress. But still, I can’t decide if this recurrence is a good thing (as in, cathartic release), or a crutch. In any case, I guess insofar as it motivates me to act, to do something about my situation, it is an overall good…?
Ok, so I talked things over w/ my mock trial co-capt, and I think things are turning in a positive direction now, so fingers crossed! I will, as a result of the talk, take it a little more seriously w/ respect to time and effort devoted to it, which is fair to ask I think. So, yay. One talk down, another talk w/ roommate to go?
I feel like I’m a little over mock trial, I just hate the politics and power trips that go on in meetings, and every time someone’s like, why AREN’T you as obsessed about it as we are? I feel simultaneously ashamed that I SHOULD be, and puzzled as to why I should care about it THAT much at all. It’s a very all-or-nothing kind of activity (12 hours a week? C’mon) And I’ve just been sort of in between all this time, and I keep feeling like I should go all out, except I don’t really like what the mock trial all day everyday machine churns out. As individuals, it makes us pretentious, snide, egocentric know-it-alls, or are these just reflections of who these people ACTUALLY ARE and mock trial just happens to be a conducive environment for these traits?
Can I just vent that I really really REALLY do not believe in a supposed “friendship” that consists of no time together? It just doesn’t work. People have all kinds of grandiose ideas about how abstract concepts can subsist on abstract fuel. Love, friendship, grief, none of them have to be material based!
Well, I’m calling bullshit. Their sources of subsistence are petty and tangible and necessary. If it’s not some physical thing, then at least time, or visible effort, will be needed. This is how all these great concepts unravel—you take them for granted, justify to yourself how they don’t need to be watered regularly, and turn your back on them, empty water can in hand, for one too many days.
You know how the most spoiled, fragile, delicate flowers are also the most beautiful? Pause from reading this line and think of the most exquisitely, deliciously, PAINFULLY beautiful flower you can imagine.
Now think of a cactus.
You’re right, a cactus, with its super efficient needles, does not need watering at all. So go feast your eyes on a cactus. Because I’m done waiting for your water can to come back.
I’m having a tough time w/ my roommate right now. She’s hardly ever there, this is exactly what happened with a former best friend, and I don’t want it to happen again. And I didn’t even get to see her before I left for the weekend, because guess what, oh right, she’s never at the apartment, ever. And then I send her a text saying, oh wait, I’ll be gone until sat night, and she doesn’t send back acknowledgement at all. So finally, her boyfriend calls ME to ask where SHE is and I have to gchat her AGAIN to find out, and she’s like, oh haha sorry, oops, gtg work on hw with my friend, bye! Wtf.
I’m sorry, this whole entry reads really whiny, but I’m so tired of pretending. I know some people will say, don’t be clingy, but that’s not the problem. I have no problem NOT being friends w/ someone, just don’t not define what’s going on here and leave me hanging, you know? If we’re not going to be in each other’s lives any more because you come to your official home like once a week, and I speak two sentences to you every OTHER week, then what even is this? It’s not a relationship by any sort, esp not the sort that people think we are, that is, roommates/good friends.
Okay that’s my rant. Of course there’s no concrete justification for these complaints b/c she comes home and talks like what we normally used to do, but still, idk, sometimes i find the indifference frustrating.
“[Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?]
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.”—“To Autumn” by John Keats (via the-final-sentence)
The prime of your life is for making mistakes, right? There’s also something in there about learning from them, but I don’t have that part down at all. All my chronicled mistakes. They are the same. Same source. Same actors that merely put on different masks during intermission. Same climax. And of course, same dénouement. The unraveling is so familiar I can see in my mind’s eye how strings will fall away from the ball before it even rolls from me.
It used to be a very gung-ho process. Learn from this non-learning. A great tagline. There’s even something vaguely socratic about it. How perfect. How appropriate. Then all the lessons, all the hope, self-destructs by the next act, the same way the plotlines do. You want tragedy? It’s not a will vs. fate thing. It’s not a fall from nobility thing. It’s a refusal to change thing. Not because the gods are preventing you—in fact, nothing is barring you from the way out—but because something about yourself (ignorance? obstinacy? masochistic tendencies?) roots you to this theater that is ablaze. It’s something simultaneously manipulable and not at all. It’s embers fueled by tears. You want tragedy?