Thursday, April 01, 2004

This is a common occurence: Going up to a room, wherein is someone I'd want to talk to. Then I hear the commotion on the other side, and realize "yeah... I don't belong on the other side of that door." So I go back to the room, all lurker style and awkward. Feel alienated from the rest of society.

Then there are the times I think about this coming Summer, going back to Philadelphia, where... I kind of don't have any friends at all to talk to. No human contact. All second-hand stuff from my brother and his friends. That's who I hang out with. These are awkward times. And then there is the job struggle. I got one job last year, thanks to my dad. I got it late. My mom paid for my first month's rent, my dad ended up paying for half of the second month. I don't want that job again this year. I'll have to fight for one. A fight I will probably lose, and am not looking forward at all to fighting. Then there's the times my brother would give me shit about getting off my ass, being adult, etc. I remember one night in that little room, thinking about the shit my brother would say and crying. Like crazy breakdowns as I stared my future in the face. Fucking jobs, fucking student loans I'd need to pay back and probably wouldn't be able to ever, all kinds of shit that just- I'm not looking forward to going through. I thought about slitting my wrists and just lying on my bed. Kind of over the top. Fucking goth kid bullshit melodramatics. So self-aware that it's all bullshit. But it might seem melodramatic, but that's the deal with suicide. It's melodramatic and over the top. It's either that or you try to muddle your way through life in an undramatic fashion. Which looks really fucking hard. And usually ends badly, especially if you have dreams, like of, let's say, writing professionally. Suicide is the easy way out.

Then there's the undelivered mail. Notes I've written and then thrown in the trash, feeling too awkward, revealing too much. OK so this only happened once. It was a confession of alienation, and an apology. The person the note was addressed to probably didn't pick up on the feeling of alienation I wanted to apologize for. And so it went in the trash.

It read like a suicide note, at least from my perspective, and I apologized for that as well, but still kept on thinking in terms of my death. It's something I've reconciled myself with. I can die at any time. So in this letter, I laid out songs for my funeral, lest I die suddenly. I'll repeat this now, as it seems like a good time to do so. Either Neutral Milk Hotel's In The Aeroplane Over The Sea or The Dismemberment Plan's Back And Forth will be perfect. My online profile right now reads "Dress sexy at my funeral," which is a song by (Smog) that I've never heard, just thought was an appropriate sentiment for me to express. It's a dark joke. It's not a real wish, so dress as you see fit.

This reads like a suicide note too, but you know, there's a reason for that.

Have I ever told you my belief system?

When we die, our minds copy themselves to a higher dimension, and you live inside the mind. Heaven is something like a dream state, but it's perfect and lucid. Your mind also makes infinite copies of itself, so you can show up in someone else's heaven if they want you there. It's not like a dream where everybody might look like other people, but all they really are is your impressions of them. A Christian heaven is different from other types of heaven simply because they'd want God and Jesus in their heaven, and so they show up, and reveal the nature of reality, if that is so desired. I desire such a thing. Maybe by the time you read this, I'll have all of that worked out. Which would be pretty awesome.

I guess I've covered a lot I'd want to get out of the way, so there's no confusion. If none of these things were addressed at my funeral, if I was painted as something I'm not, I would expect everyone to make jokes throughout. The ceremony of it all, the bullshit people said. So I guess what comes next would be the apologies and the fuck yous? Is that how it goes? A list of friends and those I care about and my enemies who I don't? That blurs sometimes. Friends hurt you. And then there are the people who I strongly dislike, but you know, I've been trying to improve myself, to be nicer. So... How about just:

Fuck you.

I'm sorry.

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