[322] Better Than My Last Title

I think every living entity is an extension of the universe trying to understand itself.

This is why I have no real conception of right and wrong outside of a specific context. I think every little particle and mystical thing you can say about every individual cell or network of particles we consist of speaks to something so magnificently grandiose that it’s hilarious and the height of folly to pretend like, as the subjects, we’ll understand like the experimenter.

No. this doesn’t mean I believe in a god. This means I think reality is so unbelievably and ridiculously nuanced and convoluted that at most we’ll ever be able to do is “heal the world” or “developed a perpetuating species.”

It sounds vague, vein, egotistical, and cunty when I, at some seriously creepy and fuck me level, feel like I have nothing left to learn. Knowledge is never complete. I don’t mean that I genuinely understand everything. I simply mean, I don’t know what else I need to live a happy or fulfilled life nor what I’d wish for other people.

I regard myself as a relative sociopath. Once you swallow that you get to think about how I manage to have brilliantly amazing friends, a girl more than merely worth “love’ in my life and all the things that come along with being kinda cute and kinda smart. It’s not a secret that you should live for other people, that you should care and sacrifice and worry about and invest and bloody hell make the people you believe in the center of your world.

Everything just feels obvious.

Just because you have a stupid opinion doesn’t mean it isn’t a position an inquisitive and infinitely unbiased universe can’t or wouldn’t want to consider. It’s impossible to judge, no matter how much cheap gratification I will likely continue getting from doing so the rest of my life.

Of course I’m comfortable. Of course I’m taken care of. Of course there are people in my life I can rely on. Of course I can manage. Of course I’m smart enough to “fix” something.

KISS…keep is simple you fucking retard. Kiss. So much is involved with a kiss. Make your message a kiss. Let it be known and proud. Bring other people to the moment. Let it excite and let it linger. Make them laugh and crave and push for more. Put your neck into it! Wish for the awkward and hard so your path can become that much clearer. Double down when they think it’s time to pull away.

Everyone’s a fucking poet. Anyone wanna help me figure out how the fuck I’m to go about doing what all I mean?

[321] In The Jungle

Maybe I go positive. My friends are all smart and motivated; of course they will find jobs or areas to live in that will make them exceedingly happy. Any time there’s been a problem there have been conversations abound that recalculate what it means to appreciate and enjoy each other. Isn’t there something or another about forgiveness and trust that you can say about your best friends? Whether it’s the looks or the attitudes or the general inquisitive and productive natures, there’s something special there worth defending and touting. The dignity and love that comes from choosing your family is incalculable.

Maybe I go neutral. People are a social animal. For better or worse when we share resources or gain a sense of comfort and security, we form tribes that can meet those needs. There is a “healthy amount” of in-group out-group dynamic that plays out depending on access to monetary and time resources and shared mutual interest. Each person fills some form of sexual or emotional roll to varying degrees which can become hotly contested during bouts of miscommunication or alienation. While it is easy to see the strength of the whole, it’s a point of vast intrigue as to how some pups would fare alone in the wild.

Maybe I sound cold. Regardless of what you wish or want, people will be swayed by their stresses more than their ideas. Your friends will start to phrase things in such ways that makes you wish they’d just lie. They’ll leave when they want to be around people. They’ll settle on anyone when they feel too alone. They’ll settle on practical over fulfillment because bills after all. They’ll kill all of their time making little excuses, little concessions, until you no longer recognize each other. Everyone will double down on what it means to judge to make the breaks easier. Life will get to them, they’ll get old, they’ll forget and they’ll regret.

[320] Moving Right Along

I think there are times when your true self can really shine. One thing I’ve tried to consistently shy away from is a growing habit of being one way or another. I’ll allow myself to be awkward or shy or dumb. It helps to keep me in check. It’s one thing to have a perspective and completely another to be dominated by it. It’s not cool to be too cool nor should you ever consider yourself that smart. If you choose to capitalize on one thing, do you dare forget what you may be sacrificing?

In a sense, it’s rather boring having your priorities in order. There doesn’t appear to be much wiggle room for some “crazy shit” to just happen or some new worthwhile memory to sneak itself in. Like, I’ve always pretty much hated the bar scene. I don’t mind a fuck ton of drunk people or loud music. I’ve just never understood spending a shit ton of money to be around people who are significantly prettier in the dark on the off chance you’ll find the right words to fuck a girl you’re not totally but just enough into.

You can look at a bar scene as a microcosm in power playing. Are you sporting the right look? Can you bring the right comments or perfectly time your smile? It’s just not exciting, or meaningful, or even a challenge. I may have to severely reevaluate my whore status when I have someone cute practically thrown at me and it’s like “eh, but what does this say about me?”

When I experience anxiety, it comes from not making up my mind. I know how to handle myself in a violent situation. I know what needs to be said or not during a bar hook up, and I can talk my way into them laughing at me when the cops show up. Anxiety comes from confusion. It’s who I’m going to be in this moment and why. Luckily, I sort of default to a kind of boring lame representation if only to quell potential drama, but I’m very not convinced that will consistently win out as time goes on.

I wonder how, even with the potential anxiety of not making up my mind, that I have such a sense of self. Why do I consider myself worthy of or pursuing a purpose? What clicked with me to find a sense of responsibility to myself or to different people in my life? This especially with the ability and…temptation?...to be any number of other things. Yet I can always rely on myself when things get “serious.”

Even to presumed friends, if you want to start flitting with a line, it doesn’t matter my mood, my mind finds itself prepared to be the worse person you know. This always happens. I never am without a comment or a prepared course of action if things get “serious.” I suppose the thinking tactician would try to catch me off guard in a questionable middle ground, but fuck you I just pointed it out so it can’t be that vulnerable

Do you get opportunities to show your “true” self? Do you see the flicker of what’s really happening deep inside presented to you as an opportunity to display it for the rest of the world? I’ve always fashioned myself as someone who seems to see that potential in people. Of course, I never like to bring it up or discuss it with them as it just sort of spoils the fun and alters the future. I need to make sure Marty McFly’s mom gets fucked by the right guy or things get complicated.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be “smart” or “too smart” or “insane.” I like the quote about technology advancing to a point where if you couldn’t really understand it, it would be tantamount to magic. I’d like to think people can operate this way as well. I really hesitate to consider myself smart, but I’m totally onboard with toying with insane or different. And in the right context, it really doesn’t matter. What does it mean to have a potentially megalomaniacal understanding of something you don’t really want anything to do with? Are your talents even worthwhile or just a cumbersome hiccup in your ability to cope?

I don’t do enough and I don’t know when I’ll feel like I do. I haven’t learned enough for the sake of learning, I haven’t given enough for the sake of giving, and I certainly haven’t been able to project an envisioned lifestyle to the extent I think it deserves. Every little side road decision is a joke when I think about all that I’m not doing. Of course I didn’t fuck the girl at the bar, of course I didn’t cut that friend down when they pushed, of course I landed on a few more words stated slightly differently a few more times.  

[319] Brain Dump, Still Dumping

Brain Dump: Still Dumping

I think there’s wisdom in letting problems resolve themselves. When I have problems, which is rare, they usually aren’t even real. Given that perspective, I have to do practically nothing in order for them to go away. What’s more taxing than problems are responsibilities. Those were at least choices you made to be something or someone towards something. Anything resembling stress in my life comes from perhaps adopting too many abstract responsibilities.

I find it odd how little or different it is when I think of “moral quandaries.” It’s never so much that I can’t, or shouldn’t. It usually boils down to what I’m going to have to do in the wake of a decision in order to display a message I want. I think a lot of people would find this idea troubling. I also think they are potentially weak of imagination. To not see that the power comes from what you choose not simply your ability to do so is sad.

As a tool, I suppose I’m explicitly after power. I like shit to get done and make sense. Things just run smoother when people allow you the power over them to move the mountain where you want it. I think there is a difference in a pursuit of power for a goal, and being psychologically dominated by an overwhelming need to feel powerful. I’m well-rehearsed in withdrawing. I don’t need to talk a little louder or puff my chest out to make it clear to all the swinging cocks in the room.

Why would I choose to do otherwise? The nature of choice is at the very least precarious. Nature verses nurture, your environment against your philosophy. What if it’s simply a capacity dictated by your ability to resonate with the pattern and consequences? To say, I’ve seen this enough times, in all likelihood if X then Y, therefore my decision to do otherwise.

The sickest thing I think about what I want to accomplish in the future is that it won’t leave things any better. It won’t matter what I create or who I help or what I teach, it will be the minority to some psychological problem or system of government or form of disaster. In that way, it makes it extremely selfish. All I need to do is prove to me. If I’m so far up my own ass, I better impress or what the fuck am I doing here, right? Of course there are people I admire, but even there one must tread lightly. Like, let your favorite band play music, never hear them out about politics. It can also be a breeding grown for cynicism.

I don’t think as a society we talk enough about what it means to be bored. These hookers at the point and addicts on black tar heroin inevitably say they got bored. They wanted to try something new. They used to have all these things going for them, but something just wasn’t clicking for them. Is it not when we’re bored and alone that anxious or depressed feelings start to kick in? Don’t they refer to it as “not being stimulating enough” when you’re the smart kid who should be moved up a few grades? If we thought of boredom as a kind of withdrawal, maybe we could better identify what we’re addicted to.

I used to really hate catch-all phrases or clichés to describe things. It didn’t occur to me that they have a utility as a kind of short hand between two people who’ve had shared or similar experiences. “Bitches be crazy.”

I sometimes feel like I get away with murder. It’s a license I grant myself, and while it only goes so far, it usually goes farther than a “normal” person would allow themselves. I don’t play hood or gangster. I don’t want little tear drop tattoos or to be so used to pain and oppression that I have nothing to lose. I just want to borrow from that world a form of the disposition when it’s needed. When you use something in earnest, it’s hard to argue that it’s not real. This does not apply for magic sky daddies.

I’m hoping brand dumping will put me on the trail of a genuine problem. I’ve felt inexplicably on track for an exceedingly long amount of time. I’m not looking for something to go wrong mind you, but something is always wrong, so why can’t I seem to find the words to talk about it? We all know this country is getting scary and I don’t want to be here anymore. I know how I want to spend my time and money. I know who I feel responsible for and to. I’m not sick. All of my friends are being weird, but I chalk that up to the lesson we’ve previously learned at how terrible they are at solving problems that aren’t problems. Time will win.

I don’t like being told I’m not happy. It feels like an insult. How could someone be so blind? Why would they project their problem? It’s such an antithetical point to the truth. There’s always a capacity to be happier, but to throw it in someone’s that they aren’t happy, trying to drag them down with you, is more than distasteful. It’s this sharing in mutual squalor and misery that allows people an excuse to stay there. After all, it’s where the parties at. Look at all the new excuses and personal, untouchable, truths and reasons for being so. My advice is to tread likely before you diagnose my disposition or I’ll help myself to dictating yours.

What does it mean to regard something as an opportunity? Is it a kind of wish fulfillment? You always wanted a stable job, so one shows up and you take it regardless of the details? You see yourself “growing” as a person because you gain the wisdom of the most jaded in your field? I think we shift and morph, not grow. You can find wise people at any age given what they’ve had to endure or what they discovered in living through it. I don’t think I’m after some peak. There is no “ultimate Nick P.” For “better” or “worse” I’ll simply be the sum total of my experiences.  The ever present choice is what matters.

[318] Brain Dump

I just want to brain dump. No promise of continuity or clarity.

I think I define stupid differently from most people. I think it’s stupid to not understand your life under a greater backdrop. If something feels super awesome and compelling in a moment, or even for a period of time, I think to consider it in a bubble is naïve. I think I see a lot of people get hurt and defensive when they do this. I also think that just because you can “get by” behaving a stupid way, it doesn’t mean it’s justified, healthy, or worthwhile. I think this applies frequently to relationships, but also with work and the varying degrees of drama you’re willing to put up with from friends or yourself.

I think I often understand where people are coming from and simply can’t make myself respect it. I’m rarely convinced, not so much that someone isn’t thinking it through, but that they’re sacrificing a kind of understanding about themselves or the context for the short term satisfaction. Yes, this can apply to myself as well, but I’m biased towards my reasoning and generally don’t catch flak when I explain the details behind a seemingly contradictory action or position. I’m ever unimpressed when I challenge someone to do the same. It’s confusing why you have to get so angry.

I think I get lost in the details of trying to talk to people when I’m not positive what my voice is. I adopt so many hats to fit a situation, I endlessly find a way around or the proper tone or do whatever it takes that to presume I have a sort of solid-state of identity starts to become ludicrous. The best thing I can do to help define myself is in the things I do or the company I keep. Clearly some form of agenda makes itself present by what you enable. It’s because of this I don’t feel lost, but it’s no less a distraction when I scrutinize every word when all I had to do was get the point across.

I wonder to what degree my capacity to be a loner affects my relationships. I certainly make clear lines and experience different levels of comfort depending on who I’m around and for how long. But I wonder if there’s something psychologically deeper going on. I think more intriguing the idea that other people could perceive a change when my mind goes to cavernous secret space. I’m also happy that being a loner doesn’t mean feeling alone. No matter what I do, I never feel just isolated. In fact, a feeling of isolation prompts a kind of freedom to start exploring.

I’m quite intrigued by the concept of a “voice.” It harps on ideas of an identity or soul or some timeless essence. It doesn’t matter when you hear it, it can apply to different things at different points, and if you’re familiar with where it came from you can identify it “naturally.” I think the only way to have a voice is to use it frequently. If you’re not saying anything, people can’t even pretend to grasp where you’re coming from. I also think you need to act in line with what you say. When you’re real world examples line up so nicely with your words, it builds trust and integrity and you’re given a form of power.

I think people crave power, but only because they feel helpless. It’s always kind of disturbing to me when I see what lengths people are willing to go to essentially mimic the failed positions of their predecessors. There’s only real power is foregoing being a slave to it. Again, it’s being effortless. When you make a decision, roll with it. When you make a friend, stick to them.  If you create something, stand by and celebrate it. To take pride in your journey allows you to focus on making the most of it without endless re-contextualizing in lieu of unrealized and unreasonable futures.

I’m marginally concerned that nothing I do or say regarding time will translate to other people. Money can always be made, stuff can always be bought or acquired, time you never get back. I don’t think other people think about time like that. I think time is like a puzzle people try to fill in well in advance. I’ll get married here, I’ll get promoted here, I’ll have kids here, I think a vacation around this time would be nice, maybe around the year 2030 I’ll be able to do this. I think this is small. I think it’s somehow psychologically comforting and provides a false sense of security. I think it locks you into a box of limited potential when the reality is infinite.

The non-respect thing plays heavily into my psychological capacity to do things. Your “manager” title means nothing to me. Your official stature or professional air doesn’t resonate.  Surely, for practical reasons I don’t tell you this or treat you differently, but god forbid you catch a glimpse of my eyes or smile. What sucks is that I wouldn’t mind actually being told what to do by someone who really had a grasp of what they were doing. It’s not that I merely hate taking orders, it’s simply the vast majority of orders I’ve taken have been ill-timed, wastes of effort, or utter bullshit.

I also think about the idea of “different” or “special.” Again, these only make sense in a context or relative timeframe, but I’m speaking about something more than circumstantial difference. Of course every one of my friends is different, but who’s really different. As far as I know, I’m the only one who semi-consistently yells fuck in a crowded room or concerns myself with “fixing the world.” Who are the Jeremy Gotwals' and Mickey Woods that can be used as definers of the genre. I have similar friends who want to own businesses or hold similar ideas about relationships. At that level then I have a group of really different people against the world at large.  In a band, you have maybe a hundred people who play an instrument, but who’s the musician and why?

I remember what it was like to have an amazing memory and endless focus. When I thought you could simply explain to religious people all the things they didn’t know, I learned a ton and I learned fast. You develop habits that beget more knowledge and you have default methodologies to engaging with people who don’t even understand they’re entering the conversation at a predictable and calculable level. Whether your measuring their disposition, their ability to concede, their insistence on a particular point, or some overall idea regardless of the details, when you engage enough, you know where it can go or not.

That period reminds me of my capacity, but it’s spoiled my present. I don’t need to learn anymore that people are intractable. I’m sold. As much as it sometimes makes me sick, people will pull on their feelings before they count something. The world literally looks to me like, “hey, there are 4 beans in this jar” and someone tells me “no no no, because I feel like this or want to define ‘bean’ differently there’s really only 3.”

And I know people think that I’m trying to exude a kind of ego or dominance or maybe intellectual certitude. I really have no defense against that. I don’t know how to sound less that way when I’m not making a personally compelling argument. I don’t lead with “I feel like.” I reference studies or numbers. Those make people feel bad; therefore, I’m missing the hidden specialness of their position.

I hate the idea of people knowing they are hiding more than the hiding itself. It’s one thing to grow up afraid or strangled by a context that you don’t know any better. This is why I hate the smart people. They make more excuses and justifications than any idiot. Idiot’s just roll with it and think it’s matter-of-fact. Smart people know they’re being ridiculous and then hide. They know they’re being dishonest and try to employ guilt for poking at their system or some other form of straw-man. That’s where you find a true definition of hypocrisy.

[317] Less Than Average

Because I’m marginally frustrated and it’s stupid to drink this early in the morning, I want to run with a few ideas.

I think our expectations beget almost as much of our reality as our actions. That is to say, when you expect a certain standard, and you hold true to it, you do in fact raise yourself or your environment to that standard. In a world dominated by average, disengaged, or disenfranchised people, the standard will always remain “average.” It is in dealing with this pervasive proclivity of man that I get frustrated.

Why bother doing anything? If you’re doing it wrong, it’s going to suck, it’s going to just make peoples’ lives shittier, why bother doing it? Maybe there was a quick profit to be made. Surely I could conjure up many short term goals where the long term impact is written off. But what does that say about you? Are we really a species of sociopaths or utterly un-empathetic beings hell bent on causing destruction? This seems unlikely; the standards are just so low.

I could learn endlessly and get paid constantly by people picking up their phones or answering emails. For a species so socially networked, we’re really good at ignoring each other. I have these conflicting parts in me that wants to get everything done “now now now,” yet, I realize at the pace the world operates, I could scale back 2 nows and be light years ahead of “competition.” The only thing that works is people on the same page. When you have to go too far outside of your circle, you have to hold too many hands; all you get is a lot of time filled with a lot of bullshit.

I barely have any opinions. That is to say, I’m always ready to change my mind. By the time I’m prompted to make a sweeping statement, I’ve probably run the same experiment 20 times. I hate Best Buy, but not before going there and being disappointed in 20 different ways. I may think something about a person, but it’s usually after they get the chance to show their ass in every interaction I’ve been with them. “My world” therefore, mostly consists of what I have a hard time being persuaded otherwise as objective facts. They are facts about happiness, facts about efficiency, facts about social or political structures, and facts about consequences. They are always limited by our human shell and perspective, but for all pragmatically concerned can be regarded as facts.

Fact, when you have an answerable question, you’d more like to have it answered than not. When talking with someone, it doesn’t feel good to get railroaded and ignored. When you have an expectation or want to get a job done, it is disappointing when things go opposite of said expectations. When you are paying someone for a service, you expect to get said service. Mind blowing stuff so far, right? Maybe 1/30 customer service lines I’ve ever called have figured these things out.

I have no memory for names or even simple meaningless tasks at a part-time job, until I need to. When the keys are thrown at me and they say “surprise you’re responsible for this and that” it’s amazing how fast the light switch turns on. But that’s me. Can you just throw the keys at people and expect things to go well? My hunch is to say fuck no. Is it taught, a personality, or a learned facet of a personality? How do you raise the standard? How do you find more people you can throw keys at and say “you’ll figure it out?”

I get the sense that everyone is just sort of waiting around to die. There’s like a handful of people who really want to be here and see things change and grow and work, and the rest of the world just wants to die. How can they give a fuck about you or your ideas when they have to keep in mind to hit the liquor store before they get home? What concern is it of theirs your political or philosophical theory, they never expected to own such a fine shit hole in the woods or keep offspring alive as long as they have. We are an infantile circumstantial species. We don’t recognize our impact and just sort of flow with the shitty environments we’ve been born into. Look no further than how we participate in a “democracy.”

I think there is enough access to resources in this country. They maybe aren’t being allocated as well, but I think most people most of the time can get by with what even our poor people do. I hear from anyone wanting the things I do. In fact, I only ever alienate people when I hint at the things I want. This is my whole life, so I’m going to figure I’m a bit different. Either way, it’s why I think there’s a greater, consistently more fucked psychological problem. And, I think the dumber you are, the obviously less equipped you are to deal with your potential psychological issues.

I’ve lost count of my friends with diagnosed depression. I roll with a smart crowd. There’s something more pervasive than “everyone’s dumb.” I’ve also lost count of the number of people who’ve grown up in some form of an abusive household. Like, what’s it take to get 2 mentally healthy people to find each other? I think my perspective on people, to treat them like animals, has helped me. There’s obviously more nuance, but not that much nuance, to the human psyche. They’re irrational and afraid first, you’re sick if you needlessly abuse them, but sometimes they do things in which they need to be given up or put down.

My gut, I mean everything I read all the time, informs me that things are progressively worse each day. Never is the headline “plan to destroy more of the environment nixed out of common sense.” More headlines you never see: “Scientists consulted on new energy plans to save country billions.” “War ended because people realized they don’t want to needlessly die or kill noncombatants.” “Congressman sites philosophers/economists in brilliant appeal against bill.” It’s more drones, more weapons, more fear mongering, more lies and doublespeak, more propaganda, more gossip, more surveillance, more destruction and war all around….at least in this country.

[316] Dainty Ogre Gold-Plated Pitchfork Collectors

I’d like to talk about objectification and hypocrisy, and man, is shit gonna be magic. I’m a firm believer in nailing down terms, and the ladies, to make sure we grasp just what it is we mean when we pull those little buggers from our arsenal.

Let’s start with objectifying. I was recently accused of objectifying people and merely being “kind of a doosh” when it came to interacting with people. While I would hardly deny my potential doosh tendencies, it dose sting a little when it comes from someone that you previously liked more than a little.

So I got to thinking about objectifying, what it really means. We are comprised of potentially invigorating or objectionable tendencies or attributes. To regard them, that is, to take them under consideration, can be made to be understood as “objectifying.” Are we not objects? A hand severed from a body, is a hand. Do you speak of the soul of the hand? Do you characterize its personality? I challenge a single one of you to describe the Adams’ family hand as boisterous or intractable.

I think to find someone, or something about them attractive, is not the same thing as to treat them as a train set. It’s not the same kind of enjoyment; it’s not irrespective of the being attached to those attributes. I mean, please, we live in the internet age. A body without a face or a little backstory might as well be another pilled on in a Holocaust grave. I don’t feel guilty pointing out the luck you had in not being born looking like Gollum. If I based how I treated all people or made moralistic or impractical judgments because of my innate gag reflex, then yes, that’s pretty terrible. But to pretend that’s what it’s about because I offer a compliment…like, weak.

Then I think what if I was objectified. How shitty do I feel when someone likes or doesn’t the curls in my hair? What if they don’t like a tummy verses a six pack? What if I’m too tall, too hairy, or too dead in the eyes to pop their clit right from behind their jeans? I still have to accept their judgment. I have to make myself feel icky. I have to deny my history, my proclivities, my understanding, and my current reality and validate that opinion. Who in their right mind thinks there is much utility or purpose in “objectifying” people? Make jokes and comments all day; unfortunately I’m past the point I’m going to throw it in your face like I’m on the defensive.

So I’m sure this can tie into hypocrisy somehow right? If you adopt an over-reaching conception of change, hypocrisy can’t exist. For in order to contradict yourself, you need to have a hard-lined perpetual self to stand in contrast to. You need to be saying “I am this unshakeable idea at the same time I am this unshakeable idea,” which just seems naïve and unreasonable. I think it’s too easy to be a hypocrite. It speaks to why I hate the word love. You can plaster it on anyone and anything just given your small perspective on who they are.

I think changing your mind, evolved philosophy, and personal indignation mascaraed as hypocrisy. People don’t like your reasons, they don’t understand your reasons, but very simply, you can’t stand in utter contrast to how you actually believe and are behaving. You’re no more a hypocrite than you are non-existent. For ideas and potential to be challenging or nuanced, is not the same thing as them contradicting your being. Like, every time I don’t make a fat joke within ear shot, is that hypocritical, or just smart and kinda nice?

Also, if you don’t have a grasp of the subject you’re bound to look “hypocritical” about, the judgment goes even farther out the window. You can’t even define the terms! You have a small and shifting position. Now that you’ve gained a perspective or managed to have something invested, it’s time to demonize you as a hypocrite? Maybe you’re just learning. Maybe you’ve just brushed against something that you never knew you needed to be informed about. Maybe you’re just utterly fucking terrible at arguing or laying out what it is you actually think. Then, you could even be made out as a hypocrite for getting smarter!

I think it’s important for me to suss out what I mean by these terms because I anticipate my life changing dramatically. Whether it’s getting paid massive amounts of money for making phone calls, or deciding to reorganize my social structure, to the untrained eye, it’ll be, hell, to any eye, it’ll be really easy to just judge and feel and make all sorts of blah blah blah comments about. Here’s my offer of insight. If it clicks in your head, we’re money. If not, well, fuck it I tried, guess it’s not that important anyway, right?

[315] This House Is Not A Home

I’m bad in that I expect things. I expect myself to hold certain standards and ideas about myself. While seemingly all of my friends struggle with things like crippling depression or personal insecurities, I’m poised with my finger over the button that initiates the perfect time to helicopter dick in the middle of the mall, and laugh maniacally about it. My potential for seemingly endless or reckless joy knows no bounds. I genuinely don’t feel like the common hang-ups of life really apply to me. I attempt to think around them and live in a world that allows me to expect things. Yet, I find I’m ever humbled by my naïve expectations.

It’s one of those things that speak to why I call myself a loner. No amount of friends really means they grasp or even want to pretend to grasp how or why I think something. Even if they agree, it’s hardly ever “Nick P., that makes a lot of sense, I’m going to try to start doing that right now too.” This doesn’t mean that every habit or potentially good idea I have can be adopted over night, but there is a certain kind of person and a certain kind of mindset that behaves like mine. Ask Byron about it.

What I suppose bugs me the most is my inability to quell the anger. It’s not even that I don’t expect the things that come. But even seeing things coming for years will get to me. The failing expectation in that moment is that “things could be making more sense.” In actuality, the moment is playing out in a way I would consider nonconstructive, caddy, or pathetic. It gets even better when people like to play the vague fool. Well I didn’t know, well I thought you thought, didn’t so and so tell you, it’s not about this it’s about that, why can’t you understand where I’m coming from…

I think it speaks to what makes life feel like perpetual punishment. Like you always get to be self-conscious or on edge about something because even when you try to be well or plan right, it’s always with the bombs going off around you. The only thing that calls for a cease fire is firmly planting yourself in an environment that’s theoretically above all the explosions. I like to think of that environment as my friends, but to carry the analogy further, I feel offered up as a meat shield with the mindset “he can take it” often enough I don’t really know where to go but to be kind of dead inside.

No, this doesn’t mean woe is me; it’s more of the perpetual “fuck-everything” air I adopt when things go stupidly for stupid reasons. Like, of course I’ll find new roommates and figure out a way to keep saving money, and run my shit, and do side jobs and whatever else. Of course I will. I’m Nick P. I don’t need the respect to be talked to deliberately. I shouldn’t expect honest conversations or assessments about the how or why I influence people’s lives or try to provide for a certain kind of lifestyle. That has nothing to do with it, Nick P. If you don’t first and forever remember people do things for generally irrational or selfish reasons, then consider the fallout after, you’re setting yourself up to get pissed off again.

I suppose I always fall back to the expectations of myself. I expect I know how to treat people in situations that are going poorly. I expect I know how I’ll find a way out of it. I expect to polish the jaded shell and work out all the commentary in jokes that hit a little too close that I laugh a little too long about. That’s fine. I think I’m lucky that I have standards. I’m lucky I have people in my life that I can point to as examples of what I respect and what I want everyone to be like. When you’re “on my bad side” it has nothing to do with you, you’re just like the rest. You don’t have the capacity to understand what I seek in a friend. That’s your choice and I hope it makes you feel comfortable.