Oh my, that was tiring. That last post was quite tiring to write but I LOVED it. Writing in second person helps enhance the reader experience, but I’m infinitely sorry if this one affects you in a negative way. Also, making a run-on sentence using only the word ‘and’ as a connector could make reading difficult, but it definitely helps to express accurately the speed at which thoughts present themselves. Once again, I think it’s pretty clear that it comes from my own anxieties and the things I think occasionally.
Despite your best efforts to appear interesting to the outside world(to say the world outside your mind) you remain a lonely, socially awkward, constantly depressive human being who pretends to be eight different people each day. You’ve only read the books other people tell you to, or those which you think will give you an insight to the minds of other people and somehow teach you how to correctly interact with them, but often you end up depressed over the fact that these authors are so much better than you that not even if you try to imitate them will you be able to get close to what you aim to be. Every romantic endeavor you set yourself to ends with disastrous consequences, leaving you with less self-esteem each time you try, and making you even more separated from society to the extent that you no longer wish to try to show to someone how much you matter, how different you are, how similar you are to them, how much you would love them if they would love you back. Everyone you’ve ever tried to make contact with and failed ignores you or behaves really awkwardly around you and you no longer know if it’s because they’re immature or if you’re just so unbearable to be with once they have found out that you have feelings for them that they can’t stand to look you in the eye. The girl you like likes someone else, and that someone likes someone else, in an infinite romantic polygon which never closes because of the fact that you’re so sure that nobody likes you. Every time you feel like you are doing something right, you get tired of the enormous amount of effort it takes to realize anything you’ve ever set yourself to achieve. Your parents don’t think you actually have a future doing what you like to do so they try to send you through a different path which only enhances your self-hatred and ridiculously long-lasting depression to the point that you(in the purest of cliches) no longer know if there is actually something worth living for. Besides, you spend so much time doing stuff you don’t actually want to do that you begin to wonder if there exists something that you want to do. You are so shamelessly self-involved that every morning you wonder which t-shirt would most accurately reflect the attitude your character that day has towards life. You only change pants every three days, no more, no less, and you really don’t know how you came upon that rule. You try to wear accessories that reflect your tastes in music, art and entertainment, to the point that you spend a really long time wondering which one you will wear today. You cook, you write, you play and write music, you know stuff, you have read hundreds of books, you like to make romantic movies, you have watched hundreds of movies in the hopes that the knowledge of others will somehow adhere to your brain cells and make you smarter and more likable, you think, you reason, you like dialogue, you solve problems by looking at different points of view and shifting yours accordingly, you fight to make yourself so interesting that no one else in your social universe could even come close to you in interestingness, you make up words, you improvise songs, plays, and characters with pain-staking precision and surprising speed, you keep telling yourself to move on from failed attempts at being accepted by society or others but always find yourself coming back to the same hopes and aspirations you though you were over with and cling to that ray of hope that the girl you’re in love with will see you for what you are and accept you completely which is really what you’ve always wanted and then you’ll be infinitely happy and kiss in the rain and watch old movies together and walk with no real direction just savoring the inherent romance in the moment and fight and make up and get used to the quirks of each other and laugh at lame jokes and have long staring contests and get tired of each other and remember what you liked about each other and go out to dinner and celebrate anniversaries and drink and smoke and stop drinking and stop smoking and grow up and mature and disagree about politics and sacrifice your point of view over the stability of the relationship and find out you can actually come to a join decision and kiss some more and get married and buy a house somewhere far away and come home each day from work and just sit in the kitchen eating something, enjoying the uncomfortable silence that forms when you eat and your significant other just sits there across from you watching and knows that you’re the only they’ll ever love and they wouldn’t have it any other way and maybe you’ll have kids and they will grow up and you’ll see so much of you in them and wonder if they’re not exactly the same person you were at that age and you’ll look at your life partner and know that if it be necessary you would walk barefoot through hell for them and someday one of the two of you will get sick, or start getting older and you will start considering the possibility of death and try to make every moment last an eternity as you walk slowly down the path of life that we all must follow and one day one of you will die and you’ll have the funeral you always wanted when you were alive and you’ll visit the grave of your loved one and write in chalk significant words like “I miss you” or “I will love you always” or “The day you decided to be with me was easily the happiest day of my life” and the rain will wash away the chalk and you’ll know that your words somehow made a difference inside you and help you continue the lonely way you have to follow before leaving this plane and discovering if what’s out there is good or bad, but enjoy the enigma anyway because you know that while you lived you pretty much lived the way you wanted to and have no regrets because living with regrets is the worst kind of life. Also, you occasionally have long thoughts about your future.
I write in times of great sadness and despair. I seem to be lost in a sea to which you are the only lighthouse. In these cold winds that chill my soul and my body down to the smallest particle, I look to you. I write this lines no longer as a friend or acquaintance, but as a man deeply and maniacally in love with you. I no longer breath air, but pure, distilled love, kept secret for so long that it can be no longer be considered an emotion, but a pure transparent substance with which I fill my lungs each morning in the hopes that you will someday love me too. When I think of you, I feel those famous butterflies that make home of one’s stomach, to the extent that I what actually feel comes closer to a pack of seagulls moving inside me. Longest nights I have spent awake staring at my ceiling imagining that you feel the same way. Entire days I have imagined walking with together with you on that sandy beach you seem to love so much. My mind never seems to want to stop thinking about that first kiss, that first sweet sweet kiss for which I wake up every morning.
You’ll probably dismiss my love as a passing thought. You’ll say I don’t know you enough to be so deep in what i call love with you. My ears still ring when I think about just how much you seem to be taken by that man you seem to always be talking to. It’s eating me apart to think that my conversation is just an occasional occurrence for you. It pains me deeply when you seem to not care the least about responding to my questions. I can’t think of any other way to tell you that I’m completely out of my mind for you, and still you choose to spend your time with another.
I know I will eventually give up and stop declaring my love for you. I know you will eventually stop reading my letters, and that’s OK. Suffice it to say that there is no way you can forget me if I was never a memory to begin with. If there is no way leading to your heart I will before long get tired of building roads to take myself there. There are no other women for me out there but you, and even though I wish I was the only man for you, I know you think differently. Needless to say I will still spend sleepless nights thinking about your hair, your eyes, your lips. Needless to say I will probably always be a fool for you and the way you talk. Needless to say I will always imagine what my life would be like if you felt for me what I feel for you. You will always be in my dreams, and i will always dream of being in yours.
Your lost soul,
Life is filled with hardships, both enormous and insignificant, but the way you deal with these hardships determines who you are. Happy moments will come if you wait, but these hardly make a difference on what you become after a few years.
If there is one thing animated movies have taught me, it’s to follow my dreams. It sounds childish, but I laugh less each time I say it. I want to succeed. I want to get out there and prove to people that I’m not just another guy with a pen and a camera. I am Nikolas Murdock, and I make awesome stuff.
All I know right now is that God, Buddha, Tao or whoever is out there wants me to be a writer and a filmmaker, and that’s what I plan to do. Often people fall behind trying to follow the plan society dictates for them, but why do it if you’re not even sure there is such a thing as “Society”? You may wake up every day and wonder if everything is just a very long dream and your mind is actually creating everything. Unless there is something specific you want to achieve, there will be no reason for you to get up in the morning.
People like me who want to be part of the entertainment industry have one goal in mind; to be recognized and praised by others. Without an audience we are useless, and quite often we create separate characters for these situations. We may be sarcastic, utterly annoying bastards when we are alone, but in front of an audience we are the funniest, most creative people around. This may cause conflict to some, but to others it is simply our lifestyle. If you can be liked by others by doing the thing you do best, and love to do, then you succeed at life.
Respecting love we need the same thing. We need someone to develop an interest for us. We want to be recognized and loved by everyone, but we really want to be loved by someone in particular. In achieving that love we achieve everything we want, and it keeps us waking up in the mornings. Our loved one becomes our audience, and often it is the only audience we want to please. We want them to praise us and to recognize us and to show an interest in us. At the same time we want to be interested in them, to talk to them, to ask them questions. We are drawn to our loved ones.
I am not in the business of being sure of things. To be completely honest, I’m not sure of anything. The best I can do is guess, but by guessing I can get a little closer to the truth. By guessing I take chances. By guessing I often get rejected, but I only mind for a little while. By guessing we direct our lives to better places. Sometimes we fail, sometimes nothing happens, sometimes we win. By guessing we learn to accept failure as a way to the truth, and the truth fills us and binds us and makes us better. Whether that truth is a fact or an opinion, an answer or a question, depends on how you interpret it.
All i know right now is that God, Buddha, Tao or whoever is up there wants me to keep guessing and getting up in the mornings, and I will honor and respect that, because I can.
If I told you exactly just how beautiful I think you are,
Just how much better you make everything feel,
Precisely what I think about when you’re gone,
Would that change things?
Would you develop an interest in me?
Would you ask me questions?
Would you realize how completely head-over-heels I am for you?
Do you already know?
I’m forced to pretend that I don’t love you
That every word you say doesn’t take my breath away
That every conversation that we have means nothing to me
That when you talk to someone else, my heart does not skip a beat
That if you leave I don’t mind
That when you hold his hand I’m happy
That you are just another part of my day
That I only care for others, whereas I only care for you
That when you smile I don’t go mad
That I’m not looking for you all the time
That it’s ok that you don’t really like me that much
That i’s cool to just be friends
Even though I’m savoring every second
Every time our gazes meet
It goes by so fast
It all goes by so fast
And it’s driving me insane
It’s driving me beautifully, maniacally, slowly, romantically insane
The fact that you’re so unbearably, infinitely, discretely, amazingly beautiful is driving me crazy
Today i was stuck in traffic for like half an hour. It seems the traffic lights were turned off in a particularly unpleasant place, a six-way crossing. This means that eve if society had chosen to stop its ignorant prancing and actually stopped and helped others for a while, it would have to do so a minimum of three times, which is near impossible. So i had to stop my vehicle and wait while the public transport bitches made everybody else look stupid while they proceeded to shit on everybody else’s day. Patiently, I waited for the responsible men and women of the transit authority department to make an appearance and save us all from the eternal pain and sadness that arriving late to wherever it was we were going would bring. To make the wait more pleasant, I decided to put one of my favorite songs on repeat.
Eight repetitions of “Some Fantastic” later, I found myself a little bit angrier than I was eight repetitions of “Some Fantastic” before, but not as angry as I could be if I wasn’t listening to “Some Fantastic”. Suddenly, from the crowd of automobiles I heard faint whistling sounds. My heart raced as five or six policemen emerged from the chaos and positioned themselves strategically across the street to manage and pinpoint traffic. They were carrying radios and my expectations of what these men could do for me rapidly increased as I renewed my hopes on the traffic department and started thinking about how they could use those radios to communicate with each other as they fought valiantly to return peace to our crossing, but I was deceived.
The policemen rapidly proceeded to prove that no one should ever expect much from the traffic department. For starters, society did whatever it could manage to negate the policemen’s efforts which, honestly, were not that impressive. When the radios seemed to be useless to synchronize the crossings, they started using whatever they could to communicate with each other, including cellphones, shouting and whistles. It didn’t work. The public transport industry seemed to be particularly bent on stopping any chance of anyone getting anywhere, let alone where we actually wanted to go. Once, the policeman in charge of the street in which I was stuck seemed to disappear to try and talk some sense in the others, but apparently failed. Eventually he returned and proceeded to make weird gestures with his hands in an attempt to fix his previous shortcomings, but failed again.
Several angry drivers later, I found myself in the middle of the crossing, with a very calm taxi driver who should not have been in front of me, in front of me. The policeman was now making agitated movements with his arms indicating me and the other drivers at my sides to keep going. I wondered how exactly he expected me to keep going when there was another car in front of mine. Was he going to pay for the damages? Was he not going to report me if i hit the taxi? While i was wondering about this, an opening presented itself in the lane to my right. Like lighting hitting the earth in a rainy day I activated my turning light to indicate to the good people at my right that I planned to transport myself approximately one meter to my right, just enough to take full advantage of the opening and arrive early at school.
My fellow drivers, however, had other plans. With angry faces they cut me off repeatedly and I began to wonder if civilization was really lost in the modern world. Several cars later I decided to abandon any hope of redemption with my companions and embraced the driving animal inside me. With great decision I cut one of the drivers off, and overtook the lane, only to find that the path had been cut by a large bearded man on a bus. My anger knew no limits as I cursed the heavens in futility.
About five minutes later, the traffic looked no better than it had looked five minutes ago, and my patience, once a rich and endless fountain, was now a faint stream barely supplying me of any endorphin. However, great providence decided to look my way and I found once again not far from my position an opening in the endless river of buses and cabs. This time I did not honor my education and simply drove slightly to the right like I was minding my own business, even though I really wasn’t. With great joy I found myself away from the crowd and once again on my way to school.
This sudden happiness was destroyed when my teacher refused my proposal to attend his class even though I had arrived late by half an hour.