Waking Up

Something happened today. Something that hasn't happened in quite some time, at least not in such significance. A good friend is going away for a week, for now. She's someone who I've been friends with and dated some, but have never really gone anywhere with . . . emotionally. Well, not romantically anyhow. She's just graduated, and will be leaving for college after summer, and though I know I'll certainly be seeing her again after that, I can't help but feel some despair over her leaving, or the thought of her finding another guy. It's not serious, it's just a little bit of attachment that will fade, no big deal. She's an incredible girl, but I think we both know that it's just not there. So really, the type of emotion is not really even noteable, it's the fact that it's there. For the first time in a long time I feel that I'm holding a shared, mutual care for someone outside my family. Not just a friend, someone who will not leave my mind, someone I hold significant history with. It's a good feeling, but most importantly, it's a feeling. For the longest time I have held this sense of numbness.

Numbness, a sensation I tend to receive when there is nothing good worth feeling. It's like my emotions go into shutdown, shell-shocked into summitting. The attack is no secret. Almost exactly a year ago today it was just drawing to a close, the hardest few months I have ever faced. I have felt down and depressive before, but the combination of events was just so much. Even today I feel amazed by what I faced, and see that it' no wonder I was thrown into such numbness. The numbness that protects you from further pain, scared of what is present outside. The numbness that makes contentness difficult but anger a hair's breath of a heartbeat. The numbness which is a part of me which scares me the most. My ability to be numb in such a way both awes and terrifies, honors and humiliates. It allowed me to do things I still don't know how I did, and yet wake up to find myself in such a forsaken place. Not PA, Fedex Ground. For a year I burrowed into the backs of trailers manually working in ways which at times could amaze all around me with a undying fury which strived from the hurt which had dwelled in me. I began to like it, and it took me some time to realize what I was doing. Fighting with such an anger was okay, but it takes a toll, one which money was not worthy of. I will not submit myself to such a situation again, the next time I hold such a fury I will be confronting a worthy opposition, hopefully wearing a military uniform. Needless to say, it's visible the intensity of the emotions I have been surrounded by. It took a long time for the fires to dwindle, and for this numbness to fade. And yet it has, and I have been waking up for about the past 6 months.

It started with fear for another friend, and now I believe it is complete with the realization that I have crossed the barrier by actualizing one of the same emotions that caused my so much pain last year. That emotion and many others of course. Now the next step is in feeling content with what I have. To sit down and relax, realizing that I have accomplished, I am cared for, that I am once again me. To proudly face those who I respect which I have not faced in such a long time. Most importantly, I want to share with others that which I have. I have learned hard lessons, and while there are fruits to these labors, I wouldn't want a friend to go through that which I have. I hate this position actually. At 19 I'm not supposed to be a retrospective has-been, and yet I feel that way. It's hard to understand it and accept. The simply truth is that it was easier to find trouble back home, and I found it. Many of the people I know are far better protected, and while they're safe, they're nieve. I've seen so many stupid things, if it wasn't for the intelligence and personality of many people I would lose a fair deal of respect for them. Experiences don't require intelligence . . . well . . . they're an intelligence of a whole other kind. Take Fedex Freight for example. I have a lot more academic stuff behind me then most of my coworkers, but after driving a lift for a few years, they're a hell of a lot better at it then me. In my case, some of my friends are freaking rocket scientists, and yet don't understand things like the addictive nature of drinking and what it can do. They've never been close to a rape victim or seen real violence and so do not understand the perspectives of danger. How the hell do I pass on my experience? How do I do this without loosing attractiveness?

Anyhow, as is seen, the fires of anger may be gone but the fury of just being the active person I am remain. Only now, it'll be satisfying in a natural manner. I shouldn't have liked pain, so why did I? But that's over, and I can't help but feel hope and reassurance that something is coming, things are coming, good things. This means that I am vulnerable once more, but you gotta leave your shelter and face the cold awhile if you wanna see a sunrise. With everything though, I stilly worry. The anger is still within me. I hold it for when I face that which I have set my life towards; war. It will return, and what then? It is necessary, and it is fearsome, therefore it can hurt all both friend and foe. It is much easier to hurt a friend then a foe, I would know. I was hurt by the closest of friends in some of the harshest ways possible without warning. I'm not proud of some of the actions I have taken in numbness either. As I spoke of experience, I must say I have that which I am both proud of and dishonored by. I can not deny it, I am tainted. I can only hope that my better actions my justify my place. But at least now I am feeling good again, satisfied with life, and believing that I deserve at least this much reward.

Greg

Flight 93

As you can imagine from the title, this entry is gonna be intense. I just went and saw the movie tonight, with a few buddies. This has been by far the most dramatic movie experience I've ever had. I'm not one to easily lose composure. At funerals I'm not crying, in fact at my grandfather's funeral I was the only member of my family not to cry. Movies like the Passion of the Christ and Ladder 49 were pretty significant, but honestly, Flight 93 completely out did them in terms of moving me. I'm putting it above the Passion of the Christ even. At least then there was something to be happy/thankful for -in the end. Flight 93 had me having trouble breathing even, and it was nothing short of amazing being in that theater. Unlike The Passion, the theater was not crowded. Also with The Passion, people felt open to talk more afterwards. When Flight 93 ended you could have heard a mouse walking across the floor. There was no words at all, people were simply standing up and silently leaving the room. I've never seen anything quite like that. It was eerie. This was the most signifcant film I've ever seen. The Passion of the Christ was over dramatized with band music and stuff. Flight 93 needed nothing. Just watching it scared me to death. The acting was incredible, which is good. The movie wasn't about the destruction of the towers, planes, the pentagon, etc. This was solely about the innocent lives which were lost, and failed efforts of the authorities to do anything -and their terrified reactions. You know exactly what is going to happen in the movie. It doesn't matter. We all know what went on, but depicts how it went on. It makes it way too real. It's all either completely true or based on how events likely happened -that is more terrifying then any horror movie I've ever seen. Freddy is not gonna kill you in your dreams, a terrorist hijacker will . . . though.

Once outside the theater I noticed some people reacting a lil differently. Some got back to normal relatively fast, others not so much. I guess it's just the realization that this was a depiction of something that actually happened is what really counts. This wasn't watching Speed or The Day After Tomorrow or something, this shit happened, those people are dead. And it's different from Ladder 49, war moives, and etc as well. In those types of movies, most often the people who are wounded or killed were doing this voluntarily or at least knew it was coming. The passengers on those planes and the people in the buildings never saw this coming. They assumed themselves safe, rightly so, and died horrible deaths. I guess the more your capable of understanding this point, the harder the movie hits. For me, it literally knocked the wind out of me. I never want to see that ever again, but I am extremely glad for having watched it. I'm once again reminded and refreshed as to why I have chosen my career in the military.

Kind of thinking about my lifestyle tonight. I got some freetime, on account of my party getting canceled. Seriously, back-to-back party cancellations tonight and tomorrow, my weekend has sank on'er maiden voyage! Oh well, my "weekend happiness" doesn't require alcohol & ppl, tho a hook up would be nice. Anyhow, I'll make good of my God-given days of rest. Tho, not working nearly as hard now that I've gotten out of Fedex Ground.

Guess I feel like I just took a big leap, and I'm suspended in midair awaiting a landing. Flying thru the air, wondering if it'll be a rough landing I'll regret, or smooth landing I'll be proud of. I imagine this must be a stupid jump, like jumping over a crevace or something. Anyhow, this metaphorical jump began during the time that I bought my new car, got my new job, and started working out again (which coinsides with the job, as working out wasn't permissible while working at Ground, couldn't risk injury...) The hope of this jump is to be able to . . . well . . . live a little more. Meet more people, discover some new places, etc... It's been happening, but stuff like this is so subtle, hard to realize it. In a sense, my whole life feels like this in some ways. There's this constant pressure to improve myself. I guess I get this from my folks. They're very hard on us -in some ways. It's hard to describe. The result are things like looking at myself and thinking I look weak. In truth, I'm complimented regularly about being rather strong. To some degree this is good; motivation to improve myself. Still, it can be draining. I've talked about this before, it's why I worked at Ground. My parents have talked to me about this, and I think they recognize the family had been overworking me. I overworked myself, and my old car. I feel like my old car now, engine worn to a shred. I just want to go out and have some friend, but real friends with someone I respect. My family has been changing their ways some. The silly comments are no longer 'you wimpy thing.' Still, makes me wonder about my lifestyle more.

Why is it this place feels so drained? Seems like the more I try to be positive, the more the world takes a bite out of me. Well, that doesn't matter, I'll keep being positive anyway. I don't give up. Still, I wonder why people like my neighbor always comment about how horrible this place is. It seems like this place has 10x the potential of IL, is the problem just the ppl? I just need to take the time to sit back and feel proud. I want to do so with others. I want to date more again. That's a weird sub. In the midst of these feelings I've never stopped considering myself open, and have encountered several interests . . . yet nothing has happened. I've made good moves, just haven't had my heart in it. I guess I haven't been truly open. At any rate, I would really love a girl to just treat me right, knock me off my feet for a little bit. I want to be in things, partying and shit. I have the abilities, undoubtedly. People often look at me w/ respect for being that sort of guy. Yet, somehow, it doesn't seem to happen. Maybe I'm still overdrawn. I'm still discovering this area, I have a clear disadvantage in that respect. Still... I'm gonna go pass out. I'm not down, just . . . thinking. Adios...

"Don't like the drugs, but the drugs like me!"

So I'm coming out of my pill-popping binge. Actually it's been like 36hrs since my last pill, the swelling and pain has gone way down since then. Unfortunately, I'm suffering from withdraw now! Can't sleep, I'm a bit cynical, and a bit short tempered. Real in-decisive about everything. Thursday-Saturday you could have put on any movie and I'd have liked it. I'm not sure what I watched with my family friday night (hmmm, hazzy memory?) but I know it was a chick-flick . . . and I enjoyed it quite a bit . . . likely due largely to the drugs. The stuff I was on is kind of a newer drug apparently. Basically it's like Vikaden (sp?), and honestly I'm not sure if there's any big differences. Anyhow, it was strong shit, everytime I took it I could feel numbness is sensitive areas. I mean, I could still feel there, but not as much as usual. Like the palm of my hand or something... I can't wait to be rid of it though, seems to be making my moods a lil unpredictable. It's a weird feeling. The withdraw is making me feel a lil down, and yet I know it's artificial. I have a feeling my lack of inactivity has something to do with it. Last weekend I jogged 7 miles, I've had been lifting weights every other day, and doing something strenuous everyday, often multiple times a day. Then, from Thursday on, I've mostly been laying on a couch and watching movies holding an ice pack to my cheek. My runner's high has become a runner's low, gotta get back to it! Oh well, it's all temporary, and I know. Nothing I haven't dealt with before, just a new dose of it.

Just makes me a lil critical of things, and one of the things that got my attention was music. Music often (usually) reflects social characteristics (a bit properly said, but DUH!). So watching Fuse, there's a lot of songs that are popular I really don't like. Even songs you'd think I would like, I really don't like. (I determined this prior to the drugs btw) Avenge Sevenfold for instance. They sound good, but as far as bands go though, they seem like sell outs and they're too personable. Everything seems personable right now actually. It's all 20 yr old boys wearing white tuxs screaming about how ppl should do this and not that b/c they know better, wearing their hair sloppy and looking like their fresh out of junior high. I just don't follow this trend I guess. I mean, sloppy hair is okay, but the whole dress up thing with it. It's like preppy punk rockers. AH-HUH! We have it! I'm not crazy about preps, and I'm not crazy about punkers! BAM! No wonder I don't like them! It's all b/c of arrogance and respect! I don't mind ppl who dress preppy, looking nice is cool... But anyone who dresses punk is making a statement, and I find that most ppl who have to use music and/or clothing as a medium to make a message or doing so b/c of an inability to make a message in another way. It's needlessly complex. I like more simplicity, I don't have time to decypher all these messages I prolly disagree with anyone. I wanna hear music that speaks of emotion, not political/social strategies, etc... I think what this all boils down to is over-eager young ppl trying to make a splash prematurely, and cutting corners to do so. If you want to influence the world with a message, why not make something of yourself so that you have creditentials and then speaks? B/C it's hard and takes time? Welcome to life! In the mean time, would somebody please put the adrenalin-junkie rockers, sexified rappers, and half-naked sex icons back on air?

WOW That's major ache-ie-ness!

Got 3 wisdom teeth taken out on Thursday morning.

The Good; I love the drugs!

The Bad: doesn't hurt too bad, but it's super hard to eat . . . hungry!

The Ugly: Spitting up blood...

Things have been interesting past few days. I've been a doped up state sleeping like 12 hrs at a time and speaking senselessly. I stopped taking my drugs today, swelling had decreased enough, but I'll prolly be under the influence until mid-day tomorrow... Fun stuff . . .