and the worst of it was, he had wholly forgotten...
[feb 21 2007, 10:03]
heh, me again. it's strange, somehow when i'm here at work with all the constant humming and buzzing around me, i can find time to think. it's quite busy at the moment around here but once everybody's gone, i can focus. strange.
tonight, while tossing and turning and not getting too much sleep, i found out what bothered me most about monday. yeah, the whole rejection thing which has kind of turned in to a running gag in my life was horrible, sure, and i'm not yet sure how to deal with it but... that wasn't all there was to it.
the worst thing is actually a lot bigger, a lot more scary. it's the weird feeling in your stomach that you can't just ignore, the constant nagging that tells you that for all this time, you and the rest of the world lied to you. they all tried to make you feel better (just like you did yourself) but they lied.
the fact is: you can't achieve anything you want.
this realization hit me yesterday night and its reverberation is still resonating in my every thought.
sure, you say. you should've known. and i did know. i was, somehow, subconsciously, perfectly aware of that fact. but sometimes it takes a little push (or a big one) to make you see.
you can't always get the girl you want. you can try as much as you want, you can tell her whatever you please, write all the love songs you can make your stupid brain think of – and it's still not guaranteed to work. you can't change a person's mind, even the big blue guy knew that.
you can't always be the first, be the best or even be good enough for something. at times it's just out of your league. you can be a pretty good musician but you may never end up on that giant stage with thousands of people singing your songs. you can be a decent writer and not have anyone really, really read what you wrote. you can be a smart it guy and still not find the job that ultimately fulfills your life.
repeat ad infinitum, adapt to yourself and you know what i mean.
that hit me, hard and fast and unpredicted.
seven years ago, i talked to a (then) really good friend of mine about the term quarterlife crisis which we thought we had made up. having been sixteen at the time, all that was probably nothing more than daft adolescent hormone-juggling but now... ninety-two is quite a lot.
charon
tonight, while tossing and turning and not getting too much sleep, i found out what bothered me most about monday. yeah, the whole rejection thing which has kind of turned in to a running gag in my life was horrible, sure, and i'm not yet sure how to deal with it but... that wasn't all there was to it.
the worst thing is actually a lot bigger, a lot more scary. it's the weird feeling in your stomach that you can't just ignore, the constant nagging that tells you that for all this time, you and the rest of the world lied to you. they all tried to make you feel better (just like you did yourself) but they lied.
the fact is: you can't achieve anything you want.
this realization hit me yesterday night and its reverberation is still resonating in my every thought.
sure, you say. you should've known. and i did know. i was, somehow, subconsciously, perfectly aware of that fact. but sometimes it takes a little push (or a big one) to make you see.
you can't always get the girl you want. you can try as much as you want, you can tell her whatever you please, write all the love songs you can make your stupid brain think of – and it's still not guaranteed to work. you can't change a person's mind, even the big blue guy knew that.
you can't always be the first, be the best or even be good enough for something. at times it's just out of your league. you can be a pretty good musician but you may never end up on that giant stage with thousands of people singing your songs. you can be a decent writer and not have anyone really, really read what you wrote. you can be a smart it guy and still not find the job that ultimately fulfills your life.
repeat ad infinitum, adapt to yourself and you know what i mean.
that hit me, hard and fast and unpredicted.
seven years ago, i talked to a (then) really good friend of mine about the term quarterlife crisis which we thought we had made up. having been sixteen at the time, all that was probably nothing more than daft adolescent hormone-juggling but now... ninety-two is quite a lot.
charon