Yours Truly has been unencumbered by a single creative thought for quite some time. I used to post all the time but then I got a little happier and couple of months afterwards I have gotten a lot worse and about a month ago that recurrence of misery began to subside. And throughout all that I have not been able to make myself to write consistently. What did change is that I have gotten to a place of certain uneasy peace with my feelings for my ex. I do not love her any less than before but it is somehow possible to keep going one day at a time. Does I have to be completely miserable and despondent to write?
That was what I was thinking and writing in the morning. Fast forward to the early afternoon and on my way to the theatre I discovered that some wanker broke into my vehicle and stole my rather expensive sunglasses. (Two weeks ago my bicycle was stolen as well. At this point, is it allowed to think that someone is after Yours Truly?)
Fast forward to late afternoon. My mother decided to cheer me up by telling me of her troubles that included a detailed description of my grandmother’s grave that the gardeners did not maintain very well. Great! That story was a real picker-upper.
Now, I am back at the theatre doing something I have never done before. One supposes I will have something to write about in the next few days.
As I am sitting on a street bench, working on my show, a police vehicle patrolling the neighbourhood keeps driving past me. The first time they even stopped and observed me as I pretended not to notice them. I guess I had that suspicious look, sitting there, consulting Wikipedia on my smartphone, writing in my notepad…
What’s in a drink? That which we
Call a potion
By any other name would intoxicate
Or something of that nature…
We all have out poisons: the Big Hairy One might like fermented mammoth milk while ENIAC Gamma the Ninety-Second may opt for the jolt of alternating current. (I have been on a wee bit of a Kuttner kick lately. It doesn’t show too much, does it?)
In any case, Yours Truly has quite a liking for expensive single malts and bourbons. Which is why I would be terrible at being an alcoholic: the fortified wines and such would not make it past my palate. There is nothing quite like going to bed with an expensive limited edition bottle of whisky and waking up not too hung over (because of the high quality of the alcoholic beverage in question) on a work day. Yes, that was me a year ago. Needless to say, being a man of modest means, that did not last too long. However, initially as a precaution and later as part of therapy, I have been eschewing the allure of the golden tinged liquid washing up and down my palate and embouchure, slightly burning the sensitive flesh, and, eventually, slowing down and calming my worried mind.
It begs the question, how did a poor immigrant kid, unfamiliar with the western ways, develop such a rarified taste? Well, upon first moving to this land of milk and Honey over twenty years ago, I have met a young man, originally from the same part of the world – only few years older than me – who would become my friend and mentor. He is still my friend and, due to my unfortunate tendency to not interact with the outside world, he does still manage to play the latter role from time to time. He always had “good taste”. Though not snobbish, he does like the good things in life. He was the first person to introduce me to Scotch whisky. Later on, I have met other people, read about the alcohol, tried different stuff… But I will always remember myself as a 17-year-old, drinking my friend’s Johnny Walker Black Label, and trying to learn thus insane to English language.
I really have been quite undisciplined about writing and that needs to change. In the meantime, here are a couple of random observations on how not to lead one’s life.
Observation 1. There are those storytelling shows that are en vogue these days and a thought occurred in my head that it would be fun to do something like that. Except, as I came to realise, the way Yours Truly has led his life is by not participating in it. So something would be happening and instead of living it up I would just scamper away sideways, like a frightened crab, and be all “Oh, no! That seems like fun. I’ll be over there. By myself.” Not a proper way to experience life, is all I’m saying.
Let me preface this by saying that this one is being done quite a lot by all kinds of people. There is a large number of individuals who believe that they need to be true to themselves and being true to themselves basically boils down to being an annoying prick. Personally, I would be in a state of preemptive warfare against the society at large and my attitude towards others would be to behave like a sarcastic arsehole, spewing my verbal shit on everyone and everything. I know: a pretty picture it is not. And my thought process would be: “Hey, I’m just going to piss you off before we get close and you hurt me. And also, if you still stick around then you really see me for who I am and that means you are a really special person worth my time if you can see through all the shit I will be pouring down on you for a while.” Again, terribly sorry for the image. But the important thing here is: who in their right mind does this? We certainly do not consider doing this in other situations but when it comes to human relationships that can be a norm. Can you imagine a chef making an exquisite dish with some spectacular ingredients like saffron and other stuff I cannot begin to imagine and then spreading some mixing in some shit (yeah, I might as well stay with that metaphor and ride it all the way), thinking that only the true foodies will appreciate this gem of the dish being able to taste this delight through all the crap. That too is also a horrible way to go through life.
I guess what this post is attempting to convey is do not be afraid to live your life and do not be an arse. Which might sound like a way of saying “Neither a borrower nor a lender be” but while it is important “to thine own self [to] be true” one needs to engage in life and not stay detached from others. Kurt Vonnegut was right about Polonius giving bad advice. Yours Truly, on the other hand, is a fount of encouragement.
P. S. You probably thought it was going to be all poop references but instead I looped it up to Shakespeare. You’re welcome!
I’ll be processing this for a while… An old friend, who has fallen out of touch, reached out recently to reconnect with me. We chatted for a bit. She told me that she has been going through some really dark time and that she is currently dealing with the filing sexual assault charges against a family member for stuff that happened when she was little. She also asked me how I have been doing. What could I tell her? “Well, there’s this thing that happened earlier this year… I’ve been uhhhh… You know what? I am fine.”
I did tell her in broad strokes about my stuff. If nothing else, she knows she is not alone. Her fiancé is a great guy and he is very supportive but regardless of the nature of the trauma, nobody who has not been there could know what it is like to peer into the black emptiness of rock bottom. One of the things we spoke about is the healing properties of blogging. She has opened an account on a blog platform some time ago but never wrote anything because she has been approaching it from the wrong side. Between getting her to blog and possibly bringing her around to improv, I just might be helpful in getting her back to being her old happy self.
Interesting Daily Prompt today… What would I do if I unexpectedly lost a loved one?
About four and a half months ago, the one I thought of as “the love of my life,” the one who – for the first time – made me feel like the life is worth living, has left me in a rather less than gracious manner. So my reaction to that loss was to go into a complete mental and emotional meltdown. Granted, the breakup was not the source cause of that but it did send me flying over the edge. That dark time became the darkest and lowest in my experience. I went from being with the most amazing woman in the universe to contemplating ending my existence. Without her in it, life made no sense to me. It felt as though my soul had been torn asunder and a giant hole in my chest was then filled with cold and heavy darkness. A darkness so crippling that it was nearly palpable. In other words, Yours Truly did not handle that loss well. That dark time continued uninterrupted until Thursday before last, which is when I finally grasped what a prick of a woman she really is. That said, even though I am no longer under her spell, I still have feelings for her. I probably always will care for her.
Moving on is hard. Through her behaviour she certainly made it much easier for me to do so but it is never easy. She did not die but the person I have loved with all of my heart, with every fibre of my being, with the entirety of my existence is gone and I am mourning that loss. I am mourning the loss of what I thought we shared, of the way she made me feel, of the future I dreamt we would have had together.
This blog is the record of this process. It is also the most surprising consequence of the breakup. I was never a “writer.” Writing was never an enjoyable activity. Reading has always been a staple of my life but writing has been a tremendous chore. The unending stream of compositions in school was the bane of my existence. And yet, starting this blog felt like a natural action to take in response to the events that overtook me. Not only has writing this blog helped greatly in my therapy, it has also made my life better. It made me more aware of many aspects of my life.
In retrospect, this is the lesson that You has learned: if you experience a traumatic event, do something (an activity) that you would have never considered doing before. In order to deal with a traumatic event, you need to think about it, to consider it from different points of view. That is hard to do if you are constantly obsessing about it. Shockingly, obsession and considered thinking do not exactly have a symbiotic relationship. So start a blog, sign up for a pottery class, volunteer – just get yourself out of your own head.
Today’s Daily Prompt is Perseverance. How do I some up the entirety of this blog in one post? This journey has so far been all about facing the most challenging period of my life.
It started with a broken heart. I have faced my fears. I have laid myself bare. I have done my best to overcome.
I have faced it and I am still here, still fighting.
It is helpful to be able to express my feelings and share them immediately. This community has been very supportive and inspiring. More so than many realise.
The way I personally chose to go about blogging is to do it as anonymously as possible. It gives me freedom to be as honest and open as possible without fear of judgement spilling into my offline world.
This right here, is – for me – the difference between putting down in writing my inner struggles and being too dead to do so.
Today’s Daily Prompt is very tempting but I think I would rather keep my geographical privacy. I am going to go and eat that stuff though tonight.
Today’s Daily Prompt asks us: “If bloggers had their own Halloween and could go from blog to blog collecting “treats,” what would your blog hand out?” So this shall sum up my blog quite nicely: it would hand out misery (seriously, read my blog – I got a lot of it. You can have some of it any time you want and not just on Halloween. Seriously, come back for some for Christmas and pick up extra for your friends and family.) and condoms. There’s 7+ BILLION people in the world! Do we really need to make more? By 2050 the ice caps are going to melt down and we will be at 8 billion fuckers. We got climate change that makes it really difficult to support the population we got already and we keep making more children? How about adopting some that are already here now? But I digress. And since we are fantasising, might as well make it big. I would not just give out the actual rubber condoms, I would also hand out the emotional ones that protect against the most insidious virus of all: love. That way you can be sure to remain safe until both you and your partner decide to stop using them and get infected together. But keep the other ones on! Keep using the (rubber) caps on your party bits so that the Poles (see what I did there) can keep their (ice) caps.