"What isn't remembered never happened."
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Many times in my life, the focus of stress has come to one of two things, if not both; work, and friendship. Purpose, and companionship. Neither seems to resolve, only dulled by further steeling against the weight, or chipped away like the ocean on rocks. Speaking of friendship is a many edged sword though. No other discussion ever brings a person to understand that we are one, not divided, like considering how actions and inactions are mirrored and shared with others. What goes for one, goes for all. Where one feels disarmed, all feel disarmed, at some point or another.
So it’s hard to speak on the woes of lack of friendship when it is forever obvious that everyone shares the same boat in some way. Even as you finish saying you have no friends as you realise how many people feel the same way, and include you in their feelings of loss and inadequacy. And it’s easy to ignore that realisation and continue to feel slighted by the world around you without making an effort to bridge the gap. To feel like everyone has it easier.
If I have discovered something through time alone though, it’s something worth apologising for. While I might be fiery, brash, loving and warm at first outward touch, the me I know better can be hard, dutiful, precise and cold on the inside. I can’t presume to say how other people see me, or what comes first and in what ratios, but if I have ever been stoney and unemotional and uncaring and it has caused hurt, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I have inadvertently pushed anyone away, offended or stonewalled. I’m sorry for making anyone feel unwanted and unloved. I am but a coin; some part of me will always be unyielding and hardened for many reasons, for all my best intentions and desire for change. I’m sorry.
I am the only me I have, and the only me I’ll ever be. And this realisation has helped me to see the people around me differently too. Even the aspects of our friends we don’t necessarily like or agree with, it’s not something we can ever truly control. It’s the ocean in all of us. Unknown, powerful and unchangeable. I hold no ill against anyone. We are all cut from the same cloth, all fundamentally the same. I hope we all can find peace with the ocean in ourselves.
As a footnote, while I sat in Northbridge Piazza tonight watching people coming and going, a teenager named Shane came up to me and asked me if I felt like dancing. I said no, but he sat down and introduced himself. As it turns out, we spoke for an hour about art, meaning, his aspirations as a traditional Japanese style painter despite being on disability pension while trying to turn his life around, and the difference in viewpoints of people in viewing pieces in galleries. And now I know that the painting on the side of San Churros in Northbridge that I’ve walked, ridden and driven past hundreds of times is Marilyn Manson, and Shane believes the swan to be the artist, female.
I am not one to be lead into conversations with strangers, or people in general due to that stoney core, but I’m glad I spent an hour with Shane. I told him how my mother recently retired and found passion for painting after many decades working jobs she hated on computers in accounting and finance, and she’s doing well. I hope he succeeds and gets to art school some day.
I haven’t written anything on here for a while. That is for good reason. Some time ago, I wrote about taking myself back from the internet. I suppose, in a sense, I have achieved that. A few words here and there on Instagram, a series of photos on here, that’s about it. Mission accomplished.
I’ve been reading an intense book on climate change, spirituality and what it means to be an earthling in 2014 onwards. It is a heavy read, brimming with well researched facts, figures and statistics. You can find it here. It mentions towards the end that it’s helpful to write down your thoughts, experiences and ideas as your life changes, like breadcrumbs through the labyrinth, to avoid retracing your steps. I figure that I’d been doing that for a long time. Here.
I’m not going to try and sum up the last couple of months; a lot has changed, very quickly. I have shed so much of my life that I am wondering what’s left at the end of it all. I can’t remember my last taste of alcohol, maybe five years or more, I don’t smoke or do any sort of drugs, I don’t eat animal products and the closest I get to processed, packaged food is burritos and burgers. I don’t own a car; I make use of my legs to walk or ride wherever I need to go. I spend more time outside than on my computer and have only a small usage per month that I don’t get that close to anymore. I go to see a band play maybe once or twice a month, and I haven’t listened to a new record since Rooms of the House came out. My apartment is sparsely furnished. I buzzed all my hair off last week.
After all of that, I spend my days not at work walking, riding, sitting in parks with my shoes off, feet in the grass. Reading books. Cooking simple food. Cleaning. And that’s it, for the most part. I am neither here nor there.
I’ve been trying to decide where to go from here. Change of occupation, study, travel, relocate interstate again next year. Relocate overseas. Too much choice can be as bad as no choice, I think. I can happily do without taking photos; if I never open Photoshop again, I don’t think I’d mind. So, if having a degree and nearly a decade of experience in something isn’t holding me down, nothing is.
Maybe I should put a bunch of ideas in a hat and pull something out. Or decide everything on the flip of a coin. I could end up anywhere.
Funny guy who liked video games and comics was depressed and took his own life. Everyone knows someone like that. Let them know you’re there.