Fading Away

Growing up, we have a lot of preconceived notions on what it means to belong somewhere or be associated with certain groups. Sure, we've stylized it to allot "cool kids" and "nerds" and other terms that simplify relationships but the basic principles of belonging are inherent in all of us.

I don't think in elementary school and middle school I was ever "cool." I doubt many kids wanted to hang out with me during recess. The few friends I had are still good friends today, even as we've grown apart, mostly in distance. In high school, I felt those factions occur with greater frequency, and I tried often to be a part of many groups. This stemmed, I think, from the guilt I had. I could relate to those who may want to hang out with me but never get the chance to. I could relate to the ostracized and the outcasts, though those terms are a bit melodramatic. Thus, I wanted to relate to everyone and anyone. I felt (feel) that exclusion is unfair to everyone, and everyone deserves a chance to be understood.

I guess that's why I'm a people person. I like to know people because I know how it feels to be unknown.

So I began a lifestyle of being known. I guess somehow I became loud, abrasive, and pretty obnoxious. Perhaps I still am. All I know is that I had a lot of friends. Maybe they weren't all close, but in all of them, I could see that every person has the opportunity to be amazing and wonderful as a person.

I could relate to different groups. Maybe the "cool kids" or even the "nerds." I prided myself in that ability of mine to be down-to-earth. It wasn't necessarily popularity I enjoyed, but simply knowing that people enjoyed my company. That made me happy.

Therefore, the most difficult aspect of my life right now is my new-found seclusion. I find myself operating solitarily much more often than I would have imagined even a year ago. Surrounding myself with friends has put me in a comfort level that I didn't even realize existed, a bubble I didn't even know confined me. For someone who claimed to be so proud of his ability to accept everyone and everything he encountered, I was contradictorily uncomfortable in the most basic of states. For all my talk of being comfortable with anything, I found that I was most uncomfortable alone. This past few months have taught me that just because I can relate to people, doesn't mean that people need me around all the time.

Perhaps the greatest lesson I can learn about people must be learnt through experiences I have with myself.

All sexual innuendos aside, I think I'm finally starting to be comfortable with living relatively alone.



Walden

Muppet Treasure Island

I think it's hard for me to keep pets because I hate to see them chained down or contained. Right now Kermit, one of my two frogs, is swimming around maniacally, terrified of the light I just turned on. Miss Piggy is probably hungry because her fatass is too stupid to eat the food I place in front of her. This wouldn't be a problem in Africa, where they're apparently from.

But they are adorable. Maybe that's why we love pets. It's an evolutionary contrivance that leads us to relate to them, to empathize for them and their emotions. Somehow, helping them helps us. I think we domesticated animals to use them, and as an evolutionary side-effect, we've developed the ability to empathize in them. Thus, we ensure our own protection or ensure that we maximize on their qualities that we need to survive.

In addition, I think animals don't have feelings and any display of "emotion" we see is only a result of our inherent tendency to connect to them. They also have evolved to display these "emotions" to get what they want.

But in a way, haven't we all?

Regardless, I could never chain down a dog or cat. It just wouldn't feel right to restrict them. I don't think I enjoy the idea of taking that much command over a life, regardless of the Great Chain of Being...

Valentine's Day

Sean and Eric have been going out with their lovers for awhile, which kind of leaves Evan and I the bachelor's of the apartment.

A commercial came on. It was an ad for a rom-com opening on Valentine's day. It didn't look like anything significant until Sean commented, "Don't you think it's messed up for movies to open on Valentine's Day? A lot of people don't have valentines or significant others."

And as if to manifest fate itself, Evan and I turned our heads to gaze in each other's eyes simultaneously before bursting into laughter.

I can't tell if it's sad or hilarious.

Memories Awash

I just cleaned my large calendar that is pinned on the wall I face where my computer rests. It's a wet erase board, and though I've owned one for nearly three years, I still learned something new as I cleaned it for the months to come. It may sound obvious, but to me it was rather revolutionary: the more water I use to erase the board, the easier it is to erase.

At first, I simply dabbed a paper towel and wiped vigorously. Maybe it was with a subconscious thriftiness that I attempted to conserve water, or maybe I didn't want the wall to get too messy. I don't know. What I do know now is that calendar cleaning was once a chore, but is now possibly much more easily accomplished with my new-found knowledge.

Is it sad I like to insert a new calendar at the beginning of the week so as to feel like I have maximized my number of days?

Admittedly, it was with fair difficulty that I erased the entirety of the board. Namely, I had to erase things Helen and my brother both said to me. My brother quoted from the Wheel of Time Series, which is typical for the two of us, while Helen wrote something also fairly typical for us.

Helen wrote once on my board, back in what must have been almost a year ago, "God loves you. Sometimes." While this would be construed as many things, it was mostly an inside joke. No, she wasn't saying that even a universally benevolent deity would still find reason not to love me. Nor was she questioning the all-lovingness of God.

While all those may be true facts, God is simply something she likes to call herself. I guess I might have given her the moniker. The origins of the majority of our countless inside jokes have been forgotten even if the jokes themselves are not. Either way, I call Helen God, and she is labeled so in my phone book. It's gotten to the point where I search Facebook for Helen's name and start with the letter "G," only to remember that her name really is, in fact, Helen.

I guess stupidity is the price you pay for good friends. Especially ones like Helen.

Unsettling

I've been playing a lot more Settlers of Catan lately. For the uninitiated, it's a board game I started playing a few years back, introduced to me by my friend Verde and company. My brother happens to be very good at it, and I don't think I'm terrible either.

The object of the game is to garner 10 points, gained by building structures and other things. The main driving force of the game, however, and its main appeal stems from the trading aspect of it. Players can trade resources with one another, which leads to various peculiar situations involving loyalty and kindness, or lack thereof.

I have thus begun a reputation for being devious and manipulative. In real life, just the other day, I was told that I would not convince Danny with "my words." He used quotations in real life too, which I thought was bizarre.

So what do you think? Do I use my words to manipulate too much?