No wound can be left gaping open to fester for too long. At some point you have to clean it out and let it heal. Time to heal.

The wonderful people around me, whom I love, have felt the need to ask me if I am alright and have made themselves open to hearing me talk about how I am doing.

I have, as of yet, not taken anyone up on that offer. I’ve not spoken to my parents about it, nor my friends, nor my sister. When asked about the details, I am reluctant to share any. This is because I do not wish to speak of it.

We broke up, and it has been a week and a half now. How am I feeling? I am feeling angry, vengeful, and loathsome. This is not directed at her, or God, but at myself. I hate who I am right now, I hate what I have become, I hate what I believe,  and I hate what I have done. We strung ourselves along, and though I cannot speak for her, I feel as if I have made a grand announcement to a meager flash of fleeting circumstance. We chose each other over God. I chose her over God, and I hate myself for it. For now I do not know what I care for anymore. I am a facade of calm happiness, a statue of reserved joy, but behind my eyes is rage and arrogant self-loathing.

I feel lost, and I now fear for my being able to find my way back. Do not have me speak of it, for I am adrift in an infuriating place.

Coming to Terms

Yesterday was my birthday. I’m 21 now, and I don’t feel any different. Four years ago, on my birthday, my grandfather died. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a guy, or if I was just insensitive in that regard, or if I just felt numb, but whatever the reason, it didn’t really hit me at the time.

In my journey towards being a man, I have found myself replacing the garb of my younger years with slightly more traditional and what I and others may reference as ‘classier’ attire. This has meant ties, handkerchiefs, undershirts, etc. This may seem irrelevant to what I said earlier, but it has been the catalyst for the death of my grandfather to finally hit me. My grandmother hasn’t had the heart or courage or what have you to go through his belongings and clear it out. I have taken it upon myself to start going through some of his things and grabbing the ties, handkerchiefs, and even the old undershirts that he never took out of the package. I found an old watch that he never wore, and a travel case for toiletries. I am not acquiring these objects out of greed or ill-conceived self-centered desire. I do so to honour the man who looked upon me with the eye of a grandfather, and whom saw in me the potential to achieve the kind of greatness he had himself achieved. I do so with poignant regret that he could not see me as a man, not a selfish teenager, or he couldn’t meet my first serious girlfriend. It is through these objects that I remember who my grandfather was, and I derive from that a profound nostalgia that borderlines despair. In this last little while I have come to truly miss my grandfather and that is what spurs my lamentation.

I would urge you to cherish what time you may have left with your grandparents. Once they’re gone it’s too late to get to know them.

A Rant Rant

I haven’t said anything here in a while. I think that may be because I have a tumblr, but my tumblr is more for lighter hearted and happier things, where this I feel is for the moments when I’m frustrated, angry or ticked off. There are so many things I feel like ranting about, but none of it is really important it’s just bothering me for no reason. So I’m ranting about how I want to rant, but won’t because it’s all stupid mundane crap that’s bothering me because I’m tired and how I drank a bunch of coffee to stay awake in my early-morning class so now I can’t take a nap. I feel like murderously stabbing a tree or something else without the ability to feel pain. I want a vacation to somewhere with less buildings and concrete. Camping in the delicious middle of absolutely no where with my girlfriend would be great right about now. How restless I feel.

 

Love

I have learned a lot about it over the last month. God willing, I’ll learn more and more.

At

This is a grammar rant. You have been provided with an adequate statement of caution.

The word ‘at’ seems to get thrown at the tail end of sentences. I really shouldn’t have to bring up how horrendously incorrect that is. I understand where the problem arises though.

It comes from ‘they’re’ and ‘you’re’. You see, people have forgotten that just because those words can be used to replace ‘they are’ and ‘you are’ in some situations, it doesn’t mean they are acceptable replacements in all situations.

“We know where you are.” is a fine and complete sentence.

“We know where you’re.” is not a fine and complete sentence. People then panic, realizing that the sentence is incomplete and throw poor little ‘at’ on the end. And thus the suffering begins.

Please stop doing this. The words are in pain.

Coming home after being away for so long has brought me to realize that some people just have a special place in my heart. Some people, when I see them, when I spend time with them, when I think about them, they just make my heart feel good.

People, surround yourself with friends that make your heart feel good.

I was reading NotAlwaysRight today and maybe it’s just the sheer amount of compassion I try to have for others, but I can’t believe that these people are all that stupid. I think some of them are just normal people who are burnt out and tired and caught in a bad moment. I know that I make some really stupid mistakes.

This is one of the best pieces of music ever created. It’s over fifteen minutes of sheer emotion in musical form.

Not My Thought of the Day #3

“Without people, you might as well be a zombie.” -Zombieland

Sidenote:

I love zombie movies, I love that particular zombie movie, and I love picking the one profound or cheesy thing that is said in otherwise shallow seeming movies.