too late
[dec 28 2004, 23:31]
i really have been thinking about the things that i'm going to write now. i have been pondering whether i should just post them here or send them via e-mail to all the people that this concerns. the main reason for putting it in here is that it probably can't fix things, just make them worse and so i wouldn't want to rub people's noses into it. also, i wouldn't have known whom to send it to. this applies to so many people that crossed my way that i could probably have sent it to half my address book and... well, putting it up here is basically the same - only more voluntarily for you.
when i look at the recent almost twenty-one years (okay, subtract a few that i can't really look back on), one thing has followed me all these years, one character trait - or do you want to call it a part of my fate? whatever - remained constant in this ever-changing world: i'm always too late.
it's not about punctuality. not exclusively. i never get too late to work (and although it may sound weird, i only once got to school to late... ever), i almost never get up late and the few times that i'm late at our weekly theater-meeting (ahem) don't really count either. at least it's not what i'm talking about.
what i am talking about is the more important stuff. i've, let's start small, for example always been late to think about when or where or with whom to go on holiday. this produced a lot of hassle for everyone around and is the first thing that i want to say sorry for.
another thing that i've been incredibly good at doing too late is telling people how important they are to me - especially this special half of human population generally mentioned as girls. except for very few very rare occasions, i've always been to late to tell them that it's actually not okay to be 'just friends', that it's not okay if i here bedtime stories from the next guy around the corner. this always (and yes, it did not only happen once!) leads to them giving up (or giving in? or walking away after not having realized?) and getting someone else. mostly, someone i know. mostly, someone i kind of like but... well, this leads to this very weird phase (let's call it phase I) in which i want to correct this error in human existence just by blowing him off this planet and getting her back.
this phase lasts, depending on the people involved, about a week to several months and never leads anywhere. it makes me write songs and poems and short stories but it never takes me anywhere i haven't been before.
after phase I, there's obviously phase II. when i've known the girl better, that of course doesn't change overnight and so i can't avoid getting to know that guy better too. and the horrible thing about phase II is that it makes me feel so incredibly bad about phase I. i can't believe how i could have wished for that person just to be gone for me to take his place. i suddenly embrace the idea that another lonely soul has found the (probably) right one.
[i'm always the one with the hakerchief waving at the leaving train)
and after phase II, there is phase III which is the phase right before it starts all over again, with me meeting someone and with me screwing it up.
i want to apologize for everyone who has experienced me in phase I, although i tried to cover it up as well as i could. i'm currently in a somewhat more global phase II so that i'm pondering all the stuff that's been and so this is also a more global excuse. one that comes too late in some cases, perhaps, one that hadn't been necessary in some others, perhaps, but a genuine one.
let's get rid of the phases (oh god, i hate it when i wrap things up in these tight little parcels of cute words so that just nobody gets hurt, like the guy grinding the glass in his bare hands so nobody else can cut himself - i apologize for the verbal mess here, also in advance) and get to another 'too late' thing.
i'm always too late in accepting new futures. call me old-fashioned (and after reading this, you will call me old-fashioned) but i always liked the idea of living off the cities somewhere in the country with green grass below, the blue sky above and somewhere, not too far away, the turquoise sea waiting for me to sit on the beach and watch the sunset.
well, that's a nice image but there's also something else to it that makes it so attractive for me - it's static. it doesn't change. nobody moves away, all the friends (and, yes, all the foes as well) stay in the area and in your life. and when you go down to the pub to have a pint, they're all there, waiting for you.
well, life - obviously - is not like that. people move on. they can't always stay where they are and, if i was in that situation, i probably couldn't as well.
just now, that i passed school, did my duties as a civilian not willing to play hide-and-seek in the forest with guns (or, rather, got around them quite elegantly), and now went back to school, i see my life slowly falling apart. everyone i love (and as i'm in phase II now, that's platonic, that is) is getting away to cities that i wouldn't probably even find on a map or is preparing to do so.
i, however, am always clinging to the past. with all this past in my head and some present mixing into that, there just isn't any room left to think about a possible future where everything is so vast and unstable. a mere thought can probably change everything.
and so i stay here, stick here.
[i'm every screenwriter's horror - a character that doesn't evolve.]
i want to apologize for this as well. if i dragged you down with my pessimism, asked you dumb questions or just seemed really sad and depressed in your presence, that wasn't intentional. i tried to keep that in the shell as well... not the right way, i know, but a way that always worked for me.
it's just that i'm quite unable to make new friendships, real friendships. it always takes me a long time to get past the (quickly established) phase of knowing people's names and thinking they're nice. and if long-time, old friends move away, sneak away even (as it feels sometimes), and as new ones won't come quickly... you know where this leads.
the year is drawing to an end and this is the time that i most prominently notice things when i compare them to last year. i quite vividly remember last year's last days and... they were horribly like these.
so, now as some kind of global reconciliation that i started by apologizing for all the stuff above, i want to apologize for some additional stuff that i noticed about me in the course of this year. just pick out what you think is directed at you. most possibly, it is.
i'm sorry for starting to talk without listening, for being so bone-headed sometimes, for not being bone-headed enough sometimes, for always mentally torturing you, for not saying goodbye, for asking myself why you didn't say goodbye, for being a jerk, for writing you poetry that you don't like, for writing you poetry that brings you down, for being so self-centered at times, for being too altruistic at times, for listening to the wrong kind of music when i'm sad, for listening to the same kind of music when i'm happy, for letting you down, for letting you do the work, for letting it get out of control, for not updating the site as often as i'd like, for not telling you everything i think, for making you cry, for making you laugh, for writing you right things in the wrong moment, for writing you wrong things in the right moment, for being so different from what i really am, for letting you go and for not letting you go.
and i'm sorry that all this sounds as if i had read high fidelity once too often and that it's probably too much self-pity to bear. but that had to be.
and as i probably won't be able to write something in here for a while (and, honestly, because i want this entry to remain here for a couple of days for everyone to see it [just like the second-but-last one]), let's all have a nice new year 2005. let's keep the good stuff and throw the bad stuff away.
let's change.
charon
song of the day: ash - meltdown
when i look at the recent almost twenty-one years (okay, subtract a few that i can't really look back on), one thing has followed me all these years, one character trait - or do you want to call it a part of my fate? whatever - remained constant in this ever-changing world: i'm always too late.
it's not about punctuality. not exclusively. i never get too late to work (and although it may sound weird, i only once got to school to late... ever), i almost never get up late and the few times that i'm late at our weekly theater-meeting (ahem) don't really count either. at least it's not what i'm talking about.
what i am talking about is the more important stuff. i've, let's start small, for example always been late to think about when or where or with whom to go on holiday. this produced a lot of hassle for everyone around and is the first thing that i want to say sorry for.
another thing that i've been incredibly good at doing too late is telling people how important they are to me - especially this special half of human population generally mentioned as girls. except for very few very rare occasions, i've always been to late to tell them that it's actually not okay to be 'just friends', that it's not okay if i here bedtime stories from the next guy around the corner. this always (and yes, it did not only happen once!) leads to them giving up (or giving in? or walking away after not having realized?) and getting someone else. mostly, someone i know. mostly, someone i kind of like but... well, this leads to this very weird phase (let's call it phase I) in which i want to correct this error in human existence just by blowing him off this planet and getting her back.
this phase lasts, depending on the people involved, about a week to several months and never leads anywhere. it makes me write songs and poems and short stories but it never takes me anywhere i haven't been before.
after phase I, there's obviously phase II. when i've known the girl better, that of course doesn't change overnight and so i can't avoid getting to know that guy better too. and the horrible thing about phase II is that it makes me feel so incredibly bad about phase I. i can't believe how i could have wished for that person just to be gone for me to take his place. i suddenly embrace the idea that another lonely soul has found the (probably) right one.
[i'm always the one with the hakerchief waving at the leaving train)
and after phase II, there is phase III which is the phase right before it starts all over again, with me meeting someone and with me screwing it up.
i want to apologize for everyone who has experienced me in phase I, although i tried to cover it up as well as i could. i'm currently in a somewhat more global phase II so that i'm pondering all the stuff that's been and so this is also a more global excuse. one that comes too late in some cases, perhaps, one that hadn't been necessary in some others, perhaps, but a genuine one.
let's get rid of the phases (oh god, i hate it when i wrap things up in these tight little parcels of cute words so that just nobody gets hurt, like the guy grinding the glass in his bare hands so nobody else can cut himself - i apologize for the verbal mess here, also in advance) and get to another 'too late' thing.
i'm always too late in accepting new futures. call me old-fashioned (and after reading this, you will call me old-fashioned) but i always liked the idea of living off the cities somewhere in the country with green grass below, the blue sky above and somewhere, not too far away, the turquoise sea waiting for me to sit on the beach and watch the sunset.
well, that's a nice image but there's also something else to it that makes it so attractive for me - it's static. it doesn't change. nobody moves away, all the friends (and, yes, all the foes as well) stay in the area and in your life. and when you go down to the pub to have a pint, they're all there, waiting for you.
well, life - obviously - is not like that. people move on. they can't always stay where they are and, if i was in that situation, i probably couldn't as well.
just now, that i passed school, did my duties as a civilian not willing to play hide-and-seek in the forest with guns (or, rather, got around them quite elegantly), and now went back to school, i see my life slowly falling apart. everyone i love (and as i'm in phase II now, that's platonic, that is) is getting away to cities that i wouldn't probably even find on a map or is preparing to do so.
i, however, am always clinging to the past. with all this past in my head and some present mixing into that, there just isn't any room left to think about a possible future where everything is so vast and unstable. a mere thought can probably change everything.
and so i stay here, stick here.
[i'm every screenwriter's horror - a character that doesn't evolve.]
i want to apologize for this as well. if i dragged you down with my pessimism, asked you dumb questions or just seemed really sad and depressed in your presence, that wasn't intentional. i tried to keep that in the shell as well... not the right way, i know, but a way that always worked for me.
it's just that i'm quite unable to make new friendships, real friendships. it always takes me a long time to get past the (quickly established) phase of knowing people's names and thinking they're nice. and if long-time, old friends move away, sneak away even (as it feels sometimes), and as new ones won't come quickly... you know where this leads.
the year is drawing to an end and this is the time that i most prominently notice things when i compare them to last year. i quite vividly remember last year's last days and... they were horribly like these.
so, now as some kind of global reconciliation that i started by apologizing for all the stuff above, i want to apologize for some additional stuff that i noticed about me in the course of this year. just pick out what you think is directed at you. most possibly, it is.
i'm sorry for starting to talk without listening, for being so bone-headed sometimes, for not being bone-headed enough sometimes, for always mentally torturing you, for not saying goodbye, for asking myself why you didn't say goodbye, for being a jerk, for writing you poetry that you don't like, for writing you poetry that brings you down, for being so self-centered at times, for being too altruistic at times, for listening to the wrong kind of music when i'm sad, for listening to the same kind of music when i'm happy, for letting you down, for letting you do the work, for letting it get out of control, for not updating the site as often as i'd like, for not telling you everything i think, for making you cry, for making you laugh, for writing you right things in the wrong moment, for writing you wrong things in the right moment, for being so different from what i really am, for letting you go and for not letting you go.
and i'm sorry that all this sounds as if i had read high fidelity once too often and that it's probably too much self-pity to bear. but that had to be.
and as i probably won't be able to write something in here for a while (and, honestly, because i want this entry to remain here for a couple of days for everyone to see it [just like the second-but-last one]), let's all have a nice new year 2005. let's keep the good stuff and throw the bad stuff away.
let's change.
charon
song of the day: ash - meltdown