Random Thoughts.

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.

Observation 2.
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!

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Well… OK…

The great non-alcoholic experiment continues. While I took a one day break on Saturday due to various celebrations, I am continuing to learn how to deal with social situations without embibing alcohol. It is entirely too weird a feeling. However, if I am to be able to overcome my issues, it is imperative to learn how to deal with my social anxiety.

Ironically enough though, I am about to go buy a bottle of wine. As a gift!

New Beginnings?

This post is being published under the category “Road To Recovery.” I am, in fact, actually on the road. This is a long trip and I am super nervous about this holiday and how this is going to unfold.

Last night some stuff went down involving my Ex (we still have not spoken but there was a really intense message exchange) and I am feeling better about myself and about not being with her. For the first time since our breakup I am starting to feel that things are going to be alright. I am feeling free. There is that to be Thankful for. (There will be another post on that in several days when I get back.)

But for now, this is all about this dream challenge of mine coming straight at Yours Truly. I am on my way to go ice climbing on Mt Washington in New Hampshire. This is not my first visit to the Presidential Range but this is my first trip to Mt Washington. I have definitely overpacked and will need to repack once we arrive there. We will be spending three days and two nights on the mountain itself. I got ice tools, walking ice axe, crampons, REALLY warm sleeping bag, and ton of shit that I do not need but that makes me feel better.

I am quiet excited. I have been ice climbing for several years but this is my first mountaneering ascent. And I am starting with Mt Washington. As the saying goes “Go big or go home.” I am going BIG.

I could not have gotten here without the amazing support of the WordPress community. Some of you have chosen to honour me with awards for my blog and I promise to get to writing about that very soon. You guys are my rock and my sun. When I was down, you picked me up and carried me in the palm of your hand even as you all were dealing with your pains and your hurts. Even as you all have been struggling with darkness, you had time and grace to talk to me and care for me. I would love to do more for all of you. I love all of You, my dear readers and I look forward to doing more for You.

Day 50. Picking Up.

Well, this is no good. Between the pain in the wrist and in my blogging thumbs and just generally feeling sick, I have completely forgot about blogging.

To be honest though, I have been feeling a bit better lately and as usual I deluded myself into thinking that I am better.

But I’m not. In the past, I have tended to latch onto an idea or a goal that would get me feeling excited and optimistic. And I would latch onto it with the thinking that it would make everything better because the problem was outside of myself rather than inside of me.

I have got to stop doing that!

I need to work on getting myself better. I have to work on changing my patterns of negative and defeatist thinking. Otherwise, I will not get healthy and will continue to carry this pain inside.

One of the reasons I am so fucked up right now is because I have thought of my last relationship the same way as I did about my other obsessions: this will make everything right. So when She left me, the sense of loss of my greatest love was perversely intertwined with the sense of loss of my better self. Even though that was never the case – that relationship, nor any other relationship, would have “cured” me – I still can’t help but mourn the loss of that future.

And regardless of everything else, I still love Her and think of Her constantly.

Day 33. Falling Off The Wagon?

The feeling that something is going wrong has been really quite persistent as of late. I feel that I am settling back in my old way of being and thinking.

This needs to be further explored. However, all I can think about is Her and how I still love Her.

It is as if the two problems (preexisting depression and heartbreak) are keeping me stuck in one place and each is not letting me get past the other. Not sure what to do at this stage…

Day 31. Postmortem Of The Less Than Triumphant Return To Improv.

Last night was, what may have been, my return to improv. I hosted an earlier show and that went extremely well. My own show, however, was not as successful.

Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20 and so looking back on things I realise what I mostly did wrong. I have previously posted on the rules of improv. Well, I forgot one of them: play and have fun. I have been so wrapped up in my own misery that I simply did not remember to relax and enjoy being silly.

It is also clear that I have not been applying this rule to life as well. I have got to learn to play the game in life and not take things so goddamn serous.

I am doing another show in a few weeks and will, hopefully, remember to abandon the seriousness and just be in the moment.

Day 30. A Month Of Pain.

Oh, boy. 30 days in. If I had been trying to stay sober, I would be getting a chip. Instead I get to think about how depressed I still am. There is no achievement, no medal, no badge of honour. I just get to carry on being a miserable fuck.

There is a certain calm in knowing exactly the way things stand and I have done a somewhat decent job of admitting there is a problem and being open about my feelings. Except that tonight I am going to have to act the hell out of pretending that I am happy and riding high. First, I get to host a show and then I am supposed to improvise in one. To say that feelings of anxiousness, misery and fears of inadequacy are rather overwhelming at the moment would be an understatement of the century. The good thing is that I get to warm up and get in the mood by hosting an earlier show and also because this is theatre. I do not have to be funny but I do have to do a good job of building the story. I suppose it is the same in life.

Let us hope that I do not fuck up either.

Day 29. The Bar.

The Bar. It actually has a name but for this post it shall simply be known as The Bar. And the Bar has the most disparate clientele.

The Bar doesn’t have much in terms of decor. There are a couple of worn out pool tables, a couple of well used foosball tables, and lots of cheap bear and salty popcorn. The Bar is a dive bar. It is, however, located in a trendy and artsy neighbourhood. There are independent galleries and rooms where young artists show of their craft and young actors and comedians can do their shows and dream of making it big. This being a student town, the student population is everywhere. This is precisely the type of area where a homeless junkie will try to sell you a locally procured $1,000 fixie (the fixed gear bicycles being the current hipster affectation) for $10-$20. The area is awash in equal parts cheap beer, expensive wines, low-cost food and fancy restaurants, sluts, douchebags, idealistic pursuits, and broken dreams.

The bar has a certain ambiance though. The froshers and those new to the city won’t be found here. The clientele is usually devided between the students and the older regulars; the one trait that unites these folks is that they all have already learned to be dissapointed. Here, the doggedness of artistic, scholastic, and professional pursuits has been considerably dulled by the above-mentioned fare of cheap alcohol and salt from the popcorn.

As I sit at a corner table, the din of music and overlapping conversations drowning out my own anxieties, with the view of the passerby’s on their way to a fancy night out on the street and a mixed crowd of the young and the old, it is impossible not to wonder what brought them all to this place? This is not the only bar around and it is definitely not the nicest. There’s a football game on television but no one is paying attention. The old-timers are usually sitting solo and drinking quietly; the younger generation is always in groups. Tellingly, there are no couples on a date. All the folks here are either locals or those who got this city totally wired. They are not here for the gimmicky decor or sexy waitresses (although they definitely have the sexy “suicide girl” thing going). They are here for each other’s company. Even those sitting alone are here for the established status quo of the Bar. This is “Cheers” without the sycophancy.

In the end, we all want the same thing. We need to feel like we belong. The Bar is the type of place where everyone – regardless of their station in life – feels accepted. Even yours truly, who has been feeling so incredibly dejected and down this past month, can feel safe here.

Cheers. Sláinte. L’Chayim. Wàn shòu we jiãng. Nazdorov’ie. Santé.

May your life be plentiful and your enemies disappointed.
May your cup be full and your worries few.
And may you live the kind of life that will bring you peace of mind.

‘Til soon.

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Day 23. A Sneak Peek or I’m On A Horse.

Everything we do as bloggers, tends to reveal a part of ourselves. For some, it shows merely through the way they express their thoughts. For others, like myself, over-sharing is the name of the game. Sometimes, when you go through some bad times, you just need to talk to someone who will not necessarily respond with tired old platitudes but will jut listen. We do not even need to have an actual human listener. That is one of the reasons dogs have been so beneficial for soldiers suffering from PTSD.

I have no time nor strength to care for a pet. I can barely take care of myself. Flatmates (at least the good one) are a lot like pets: they are there when you feel sad and when you’re happy. Except that they (usually) clean up after themselves and pay their share of the rent. However, sometimes, you need something a lot less encumbered with humanity: a pet or a computer. This blog is me screaming into the void. Sure there are others who read this blog and give feedback through likes and pingbacks but there is that element of actual human interaction that is removed. It gives us freedom to be far more open then we would be otherwise.

This blog is my way of being completely open. There is no need to peek sneakily: take a gander. Here I am in all my anonymous glory. This is me.