There is something great about new people who enjoy conversing. By conversing I mean, deep conversing about anything and everything regardless of any emotional or faux pas connotation surrounding the topic (now that I think of it, there are a few exceptions but it really just depends on what direction the conversation is going). The best is when the dialogue between us flows smoothly and neither one of us is inhibited from fully speaking what is on our minds because we both can roll with the breaks, pauses, and indications without distress or boredom.
I think what I enjoy most are tangents to the point of talking about something completely different from the root topic, then somehow going back to the starting topic as a signal that the conversation is either over, or it is time to move on to a new topic seed.
Talking is a very important connector for me because of the almost endless realm of information discovery potential. A lack of this connector between myself and someone in my world causes conflict because I don’t always know what to do with people when they aren’t so keen on chatting. Kind of dangerous because I will just fill in the gaps about them that I wish I could find out from the source. That fact that I become aware of how distorted my perception is of a specific person acts as a starting point for freeing up energy, so that I can now apply it to someone who enjoys talking as a means of getting to know me.
The difficulty in assessing the correct answer to the question: “What the Hell Happened?” is that most of the time I am still inside the situation when I start asking that question.
It isn’t until the situation dies down, to a practically non-existant level, that I can look back and see the starting line more clearly, then I realize where it all went awkward. In hindsight, my first clue to most ackward interactions with people was in fact the first real interaction of the era. Relationships (of any kind or magnitude) have eras, each of which have distinct characteristcs and levels of involvement which can and often do fluctuate.
So the awkwardness usually starts at the beginning of pivotal points, either when first realizing that the human body presenting itself to me actually is more than a typical drone/robot, when starting to hang out with someone again after a long period of not hanging out with that person, or when moving from acquaintance to friend. Anyways, in two cases, I have to admit, I honestly loved the awkwardness of it. I think it is fun and flirty. The real spark of this writing situation, however, just plain sucked because it was set up vaguely from the start and remained that way the entire time. I was confused. In wondering why everything was so vague, I realized that it was me in the first place who kept playing along despite the fact that I can’t handle vagueness with people. My brain fills in the gaps with a bunch of paranoid crap that makes me delete phone numbers because I have no way of ever knowing if I will ever actually get to know certain people who keep appearing in my life. Perhaps a post on “timing” or “people who don’t talk but still want to communicate” would be more appropriate.
Oh well, the sun is already coming up in another world, I’m sure it won’t take long to find out what is weird about this one. There is always something weird, one must just be patient and wait for it to manifest and then choose whether or not the person is worth the weirdness and if I am capable of living with their issues.
It is disheartening to have such a long list of once thought of as potential all-stars. Usually once the draft is done and the teams have been finalized no one cares about those who didn’t make the team, everyone just focuses on how the chosen players perform. It isn’t the case with me because I chose them all and it was up to them to meet the minimum qualifications. I was honestly rooting for them to pull through for me. In most cases it was just one more thing, just that one more leap or jump that would pull them into the club, sadly that one more thing was the breaking point.
The order in which they arrive is what has done most of them in. The first few had few, if any, requirements to meet to at least get into the club. Over time they have either faded out or have been grandfathered in to the point that they can do as they please. But these new ones, these are the ones I worry most about. They always show up in shining armor expecting (or hoping for) an easy fight. Little do they know that I am not what I appear to be, because I do not want to appear to be what I really am. It is a battle of wits for me. If I can outsmart you, throw you a curve ball that gets you off track and leaves you immobilized, well then, you are not what I am looking for and I am happy for your silence. Thank you. Any approach whether conscious or by chance has to be in my right way and flow (from my point of view) naturally. That’s not to say without difficulty. Difficulty is fun because it implies learning and training to overcome it.
I am writing this because I’m disappointed in the losers; mainly because at some point I was really rooting to have them in my world. Unfortunately it was only an image of them that I was really rooting for. I was rooting for that image to either manifest or to be overtaken in the stricter sense by their own, true personality. The disappointment is fueled by their left over image in my mind which is left floating like a humming bird somewhere deep in my brain. “No,” I have to tell myself, “I have no way of knowing if that person actually exists because they won’t show themselves to me in a language that I can learn to speak.”
I sat trying to read a book full of cool concepts but I couldn’t help but to internalize on all the memories that can finally come to mind without causing me distress. Well, I guess that isn’t true because if they no longer had a negative effect on me then the topic of them wouldn’t suck my attention away from the book I had set out to read. So, at least the horrible thoughts don’t completely incapacitate me as they once did.
It is annoying how crises often drive exciting times in life. But crises are often referred to as the catalyst for change. I see nothing wrong with that because crises happen all the time, the only difference is that for most crisis, I already have the appropriate coping mechanisms built up so they pass by without much left-over thought. For those crises that I am not prepared to deal with, I am cursed to constantly review and review and review and play out and play out and play out the events until my mind is finally a lean mean coping machine.
My problem with this method of learning is that I do not like the middle of the process where I am fully aware of the fact that I am in a state of turmoil with nothing but time needed to bring my mind back to a functionally healthy state. While waiting for my mind to get over it’s cold, confusion causes immobilization which in turn causes more conflict to arise out of the life situations that I now face in the aftermath of the initial crisis situation. In short, recovery is a long and arduous task and can only be accomplished by simply doing what it is I need to do to make myself realize that what I’ve gone through is actually normal, Fortune just had never swung her tiller so sharply for me before.
But afterwards, what is to be done when all evidence of some monumentous, now long past, occurrence in life is all but erased from my daily experience? Aside from the memories popping up here and there, things are calmer now, there is nothing to struggle against. Days pass by smoothly, people come and go, work gets done, new opportunities pop up to greet me, etc. I guess this is just what it is like to have let something go. But it feels weird to have once spent so long plagued by flashbacks in often silent despair, to now talk freely about all the details as if it were some sort of sitcom. Why did it take so long not to care about it? Why couldn’t I have been in this state of not caring sooner? I would be three years more advanced than I am now. Sigh, it is just the way of the cookie.
I have difficulty being friends with people for two reasons:
1) I always have negative thoughts about people swimming in the back of my mind,
2) Everyone is always shit talking everyone else to me.
I am completely confused because deal breakers for me are not the same deal breakers for those people who are already in my world shelling out their opinion like it is Kobe Beef served at the Ritz in Osaka, Japan (as if nothing in the world could possibly be any better than their opinion). Which is fine, but what I really hate is after I get a warning from someone, there is always that look when I go against their warning, which causes me to either have to choose sides or keep my friendship a secret.
I hate bringing my friends together in most circumstances. I love each of them for different reasons and I can’t handle when one person I love dislikes another of equal status. So I usually keep them all separate to preserve my own sanity. Obviously I talk to them because they are nice people whose view of life I respect (or hope to), but goddamn, I can’t help but wonder why my friends are always at war with each other. It must be because I am always at war with myself and the people I associate with usually complement those same competing facets of my personality.
I realized that my keenness to practice patience often places me beyond my comfort zone (not necessarily negative). I enjoy being patient because I like so much to see what assumptions of mine are correct and which turn out to be incorrect, or just a liitle off, etc, etc. So I sit and wait and watch until I’ve gathered enough evidence to support a social theory, which could be negative or positive. At times I throw in a little extra fuel until either an external force throws me off the scent or I get bored with the test because the signals no longer confuse me. Once the mix becomes homogenized, I stamp that layer as “solved” and begin work on the next most confusing thing, which luckily, at this moment, is myself. Swan diving into my psyche is just far more interesting once someone gives me a good reason to put my walls up.