Oh well.

At least you're graceful about it.

Suddenly I'm learning to bartend, getting ready to go back to school for a pretty technical trade, and reassessing how I interact with people in general. Oh, and failing to play soccer on slippery astroturf, but I should be able to get over that with a minimum of whining (hopefully).

I've always had trouble feeling comfortable with people; either I feel they're too invasive or I'm not sure how to interact with them or I wonder if I'm annoying them....usually I just try to fade into the background and disappear when new people are around. Especially when I think I might like to get to know them. Horrors.

I try to convince myself that I'm sure that everyone does this.

But everyone SHOULDN'T do this. It's stupid and only makes you feel worse. I *do* like a good many people, and I want to make them happy to be around me, so I am TRYING to not be an antisocial troll. BUT it's bloody hard.

Vancouver is so supportive of being a troll, what with all it's bridges, people who like you to leave them alone, people who like to tell you how offensive your face is by their expression as they serve you coffee....sigh.

And I can't memorize drinks to save my life. And I can't hear out of my left ear properly still. And I'm having trouble dealing with flirting with certain people I happen to be seeing right now. And I'm pretty sure it's just idle flirting. And it's still unsettling. But it's nice, yknow, even if it's just for fun, which is odd, to me.

Maybe I should move somewhere where people do have manners. I'd probably learn from them...but they might be horribly offended by me. Ha.

God I hate playing badly. It makes everything stupid feeling. It was as though I'd never touched a ball in my life before. BAH.

Feel like crap and don't deserve sympathy. Time to stop being a baby.

Working through self-repulsion today. Still making reeds, still practicing, still eating and making coffee. God I hate myself today, though.

I will make more money because I find being poor depressing. I don't think there's anything wrong with that and I'm a little offended that you'd use your hippy-glitter-follow-your-dreams bullshit to try to derail my plans. I've thought about this for quite some time, maybe you should pause before voicing your knee-jerk reaction.

I don't want to be everyone's friend any more.

I still want to play all the music beautifully, and I'm getting closer to where I feel I'm doing it justice, which is exciting. It's hard not to get caught up in the competitive side of it, especially since I don't normally have anything against competition, but in this case I find it's unhelpful and generally it makes me self conscious, which has nothing to do with making music.

I feel like I'm going to break your heart. Not because I'm not fond of you, but because I'm not in love with you.

I haven't got my thick skin back yet. I really thought I had, but no, I still care too much and hate your frantic insincerity.

It isn't that I don't like people...I just don't like people who've decided to stop improving themselves. What's the point? Why don't you just go home, then? Ah, but then I'm being the insensitive one. I just don't want to hear about how special you think you are when the music is suffering for it. Just play the goddamn music.

I could have played better tonight too. I need to fix that post haste.

It's hard to convince myself, still, that when I spend a whole day practicing and making reeds I've actually accomplished something.

It's strange to have the boundaries of age break down on me; pleasant, but definitely odd. I'm still second guessing to an extent that's ridiculous.

Where is my perfect reed?

I am going to do something with my productivity. Yes.

I'm awesome.

I leave for the ocean in about a month.

Of course. OF course. Of course not.

We only rail against the lack of fairness as children, repeat that and it sounds right. We only rail against the lack of fairness as children. We know it isn't fair. We know. We move on, silently, Screaming at the wall of unfairness. Silently.

I wouldn't allow myself to consider it possible, at this point. Wouldn't consider having a relationship possible. Who would be strong enough, be weird enough, be interesting enough to last? Unlikely in the extreme. I refuse to be someone I'm not; I'm through with that (I say, every time) and just the way I lie about not trying to change to please I'm incapable of actually changing myself.

I am myself regardless. I can't be anyone else. Even when I try as hard as I fucking can I'm still so very much myself.

I even thought that I didn't need to try this time, but I was wrong. Too something, not enough, a little too or not enough. Just me.

I like myself well enough, but it sure gets lonely sometimes.

I'm not good at this. I'm not good at tiptoeing in a bit at a time. I'm used to plunging in headfirst without checking for rocks. I know this is supposed to be better, or safer, or something but GODDAMNIT ALL I don't have the patience.

But I'll manufacture it because, for some reason, you're worth it either way. Fuck but that's scary.

I'm not at all good at this, but I refuse to fuck it up. Something makes me think you won't let me, either, which is nice, even if I am STILL completely out of my depth.

BLARGH.

It's difficult to write when the words of so many fly through my head. My reading has taken on a masculine form recently; clear eyed and searching for meaning while all the while renouncing the same. It's a stretch for me. I've never felt a need to have a reason or meaning outside of myself for existing.

so much older

I've taken a break, falling away from the unsympathetic characters of Sartre and sinking softly into Czeslaw Milosz. I can't say that I'm bored by the obvious but, depending on which shade of obvious it is, I'm bored with the obvious. How cushioning it must be to feel that one's actions are meaningful beyond the mundane actuality of their reverberations AND how frightening it must (have been) be to have that buffer ripped away.

A flaw: awareness of being a child inside; i.e., a naïvely emotional creature constantly endangered by the coarse laughter of the grownup.

I've never had that buffer. People are odd beyond belief; I've never quite been able to match the common rhythm. As a child to be out of step is to be miserable, so I closely examined everything in order to somehow mimic it accurately. Some behaviors are truly useful and needful for communication, but some I don't understand to this day.

I should be able to penetrate the thoughts of my contemporaries and of people who lived a few generations ago, and two thousand and eight thousand years ago. I should. So what?

The release when I figured out that I didn't need to match the unfathomable beige of the general populace in order to interact with them was amazing. Still is amazing. I might not be able to match your shell, but if you open up a bit I'll bet you're not as boring as you try so hard to convince the world you are.

You will be dressed like everyone else. See the uniformity appear! Be a particle and join the mass; as a drop, enter the ocean.

The We of humanity cannot be avoided but at the same time should not be a constant state devoid of criticism. An ocean of individuals in need of depth and texture; you might not be able to run against the tide but you can do a lot more than you'd imagine. Or maybe just as much as you can imagine.

Their opinions are meaningless to me

Life is a struggle. Define what sort of struggle your life will be, choose the rules carefully and don't break them without reason, but do break them if there is a reason. Relearn how to be brave, what courage is and how to take a risk. Don't allow yourself to be soft, don't allow others or the random swing of the world to define how you will live.

people (and he himself) appeared to him as too miserable to be exposed to demands in the name of pure reason.

Why be miserable? Honestly, I can't fathom it. Do something, do anything. Choose to be aggressively happy. I know, I know, you're not me, you don't think along the same webs, but still. Why decide to be downtrodden, to take every slight to heart, to assume the fault, the sorrow, the lethargy for yourself. Why not charge forth and make things better, if only in a small way? Why not?

Explanation of Error: reading too much, navel gazing, some things that are beautiful are poisonous, fear is the mind killer, reminder to self, internal order, dusting takes courage, return of the light

I remember a quote from back when I was obsessed with the stones...

Keith was the least interested in portraying himself as something other than he was. Keith is a man of belief and Mick is a man of fear. Mick works on fear, that driving thing, 'what if I fuck up?' It is a lot easier to be like Keith than it is to be like Mick

But I disagree with the last bit, I always have. I don't find belief, particularly in myself to be easy. I don't really think it should be easy, either. So many people are so full of themselves, so sure they're the best at whatever when really they're just trash. I've always felt that if you find something worthwhile you shouldn't be so disrespectful as to announce yourself the best at it when so many have gone before.

I've become a critic. Too much so. I'll play and only hear the mistakes. I love performing because it gives me the chance to just play and not critique, but even then I'll be listening and critiquing as I go. It makes music dead and awkward.

I'm done with fear. I can play the oboe, and I do have something to say, musically. I can make decent reeds and I have better tone than many more confident people. I need to stop letting my fear and my precious ego get in the way of making music.

In short: Fuck this, I'm going to play some music!

I can't feed the delusions anymore. I feel like most people's sense of self worth is disgustingly bloated. You think you can just have my respect? Maybe a few years ago, maybe then I might have given you the benefit of the doubt, but not now.

I feel as though I've regressed. I don't feel like I can play my instrument, I don't feel like I can make it sound good or even close to where I would feel comfortable playing in public. I know I've improved but it's not enough. It's not enough and if you give me some bleeding heart platitude about how I'm probably being too harsh on myself I swear I'll break your face.

Why the fuck do people say that? You have to be that hard on yourself or you'll just coast and never make any improvement. Maybe you think only the super talented should succeed and you're reinforcing your belief by quitting before you try too hard.

I feel like I'm fighting my way up from bottom of the class towards an impossible goal and all I want is to play in a good orchestra and be paid moderately well for it. And I am, realistically, doing just that. There are so many amazing talents just breezing past me, and it's both inspiring and deadening. I try so fucking hard. I try and I try and I still feel like I sound like shit.

Ah fuck it. Sleep.