I stopped trying to initiate things so much in the friendships and ever since then, I’ve felt like a weight has been picked off me. I started intentionally energy-matching S, and L doesn’t really text anyway so it’s normal there. I haven’t asked them to work out this week and so they haven’t asked me and I’m suddenly no longer affected by that, I think I’ve mourned a decent amount already so I’m content since I have other friends that I’m going to put more effort into. Today me and L went to the library and were trying to build a taser without the library staff noticing, and at one point one came over and said “hey I just wanted to ask what you guys are making since I heard a loud crack” and we rehearsed saying that it was an example of conservation of energy and a cool demonstration for middle schoolers. In reality, I bought a cheap transformer (5V->1,000,000V) and we were using a double A battery, some nails, and a bottle to build a taser that was shooting arcs. The guy bought it, and we kept going and made good progress. Also turns out S was just busy with his finals and those ended and so he’s back and I’m happy because I love that man so much. I also found someone on Instagram that by coincidence is also going to the cleopatrick concert and they put me onto some SICK music that I’ve been blasting on repeat recently. Ever since realigning the friendship with S and L, I stopped getting that friction burn from that rope slipping out of my hands. It’s a bit of a shame that they weren’t the friends to put in the effort to maintain it, but I’m happy that I am in a spot now where I can recognize that without it hurting me.
This is right now my status, a lyric from the song Lydia – Highly Suspect. I think it’s a fairly poetic way of describing how I feel right now that I’m content shamelessly stealing. The general idea of what this line means to me is attempting something so completely pointless (shooting at the sun), which ends up with the unintended consequence of the bullet coming back down and potentially hitting someone, doing something terrible. It’s this general feeling of being so horribly overwhelmed with something to the point where you’re just so desperate for something to change you do something with no regard for consequences or if it’ll actually work. I find myself in this pattern fairly often, and it usually ends up with me injuring myself and needing to rest to recover which is miserable. Yesterday I was filled with so much rage and energy at night while listening to this song. At some point I grabbed my plastic chopsticks and was drumming along to it but somehow one of them shattered off, and then I just started smashing them against the counter until they were both in several pieces. I just threw the pieces down across my room. I don’t even know if I can say I don’t like this rage and anger because at least I have energy to do something instead of just sitting and rotting away losing more of my life. This morning in my martial arts class the warmup was a cardio drill which involved hitting a pad with the bamboo sticks. I just put as much hate and anger I could into them and just hit it as hard as I could until I had to run back and redo the circuit. That was so insanely cathartic for me, since I had been just itching to hit something of break something or just get this rage out of me somehow. I wanted to shoot at the sun.
I don’t know if this is a post that I want people reading. I am using the most dangerous writing thing so I actually put down what I want to say without bottling up like I normally kind of do. Or for this medium that usually takes the form of pulling punches and keeping things in the lense of being observed but I don't really want to do that today. I'm pretty sick and tired and it's probably not helping how I've been listening to the same angry song for the last few hours. I finally changed the song to OK – Cleopatrick, which has even more energy so maybe that'll bias all the things I have to say, and finally for the last pathetic disclaimer I don't know if I fully stand by what I say tomorrow morning. I just want to let this out somewhere.
I think I'm kinda sick of S and L. Not of them, but rather of me thinking of them as my closest friends, or close friends for that matter. I feel a bit upset at myself because I saw the concern and problem early on when S and I were talking about how we both have less friends, but much closer intimate ones. The problem with that that I've had to learn over and over again is what you do when they aren't there in that same way anymore. S has replaced me with either other people that she already knows, or with the new people from her work, or volunteering, or other classes. I wanted to think that I was someone that was important enough to her to actually put in the effort to maintain but I guess it's another one of those friendships of convenience. Nothing wrong with that, but I'm upset at myself for thinking otherwise. I am going to move on and start from scratch, AGAIN. I know that I can't be upset at them for what happens as this is normal and more importantly in my own selfish view I want to be a friend that is low effort and is fine with things like this. And so for that I just cannot put trust in them in that way. I'm really mad at mostly myself, since I'm the one who told myself that this was different and I didn't actually foster the rest of my social networks. Since I'm sitting here in this weird stupid middle ground of 2 extra years for my masters, I just haven't fostered the relationships that I wish I did. And because of that I'm now here, and I'm back at square one. I got to call V today this morning and I'm really happy I got to talk with him again. I envy him for how social he is, but also I remember when I put myself in that position how overwhelming it is and how I don't like being so dragged in multiple different directions. But right now I'm a bit starved, so time to get over this shit.
S just sent a text and it lined up with the part of the song that fires all of the parts of my brain to be angry. I'm so excited for tomorrow because I'm going to put so much rage into martial arts and the gym right after. I feel myself teetering between feeling like shit for being alone in this way, especially with all of the Halloween parties and stuff. I didn't actually try to got to any or prepare for any and so I end up left out since S is instead going with new friends I guess. And so now I just hate myself for leaving myself in this situation, and for kinda implicitly hoping that S would invite me to parties the same way I would invite her last year. But no. I'm fucking mad at myself, and I want to say I'm mad at her but I don't want to put any blame on anyone else but me. This way at least I can say I control it. But at the same time fuck. I feel like shit for so long just watching everyone go by with friends or with other people to these costume parties and then this eventually boils over until the god complex and ego kicks in. I'm happy that all of these people get stunted on by me. I'm happy that today in the tournament my random team asked me to join, and the team that lost every single game vs the team that won every game gets fucking hard stomped because of me. I am that difference, even though we were still hard outmatched on paper. I'm glad that that team felt miserable and upset afterward. I'm also glad that I'm better academically than all of the people I compare myself to. I am so fucking painfully happy that K wants to compare himself to me academically because I know he won't and he can't. I refuse to ever let the gap between us ever get lower, and so I'm so fucking happy because I see him being social and with his group of people. I'm upset how “simple” he is sometimes, and how easily he gets along with other people, by making these stupid mistakes over and over again with a group. I'm upset at my parents and my childhood for making me this way. I've had to grow up in this stupid isolating experience where I can't relate to others and as a result I've ended up this angry mess of a child that just wants to mourn what they don't have I guess. I'm happy when I blast past people in my new $60k car. I'm happy when people are envious or jealous of the money I have. I'm happy when people are jealous of the body I have or the things that I can do. I'm happy because I am so fucking jealous of them. I wish I had a community that wasn't separated by hundreds of fucking miles and countries for fucks sake. I wish I grew up with friends around my age instead of the friends I love so much I have right now. I wish I was able to see my friends, touch them, hang out with them and just not be fucking alone in this apartment all the time. I don't know if I'm the most unlucky person alive or if I just am so fucking different from all of these people I've been roommates with. Part of me wishes I got a chance to room with J and S now, because when they were so much older than me and I was just in my 2nd year of being around fucking people there was no chance we could relate. Now I bet we could get high together and shoot the shit. I'd love to drink with S and I don't know fucking fist fight. I've never thought about that until now, and I wish I could somehow hang out with them back then.
I'm upset about so many things and that anger is just thinly veiled sadness.
It was night and I launched my car around the corner into a straightaway and I felt the car slipping and in that moment I kind of felt happy, or I guess free would be a better word. My first thought about why I felt that way was because when I have the option to throw my life away that gives me some semblance of control over the day-to-day strife that upset me. Reading this now I kind of realize that's like a no-no big flag, but I guess I just really liked the feeling of everything kind of going out of my hands for a little bit.
When I was driving back there's a wide body scat that was creeping up and so I launched past them and tried to see if they wanted to race but they kept backing off and I was kind of sad. I just want to fly.
I had to wake up at 8 today and prepare for my section, and from then I was back to back in classes until 3pm where I then had to rush to volunteering where I’m now the only other person other than the main lady for this day. I was already falling asleep before then and then I had to manage 11 middle schoolers and try to get them competition ready in a few weeks, and at one point the main lady completely undermined what I was saying and I just kinda checked out. I’m going to pass out.
Oh my god, I just subjected myself to an impromptu hackathon for 0 reason, and I built a fully working Kahoot website for LaTeX in time for my 9AM section I teach tomorrow. I spent from midnight till now just trying to deploy my flask backend since I already have my frontend setup because of my portfolio I’m working on @ anshumandash.com. Oh my god I’m exhausted, but I’m so fucking proud of myself.
I came back early from my Jiujitsu class since I was sparring with the professor – a 6’3” 240lbs man, and he crushed my windpipe with a choke at one point. After I had tapped out and got back in line to spar with others, I noticed I had blood on my shirt and pants, and turns out my finger + part of my neck was bleeding. Because we didn’t have any bandages I went home since I couldn’t stop the bleeding there, but I ended up getting some silly little pictures with blood on my throat. Realistically it wasn’t that bad, the bleeding on my neck was very little and stopped pretty quick and the pain’s manageable + my finger just needed some liquid bandage and it’ll be fine. I’m weirdly kinda happy about this experience, as it’s one of those things where I get to act all cool and nonchalant and be like “Oh yeah no biggie, just started bleeding out of the neck. I’m not even worried, that’s normal for me.” even though in reality it’s just a small scrape on the neck and regular finger stuff. I just like feeling like I’m not a weak little bitch who is powerless. Things like this kinda fall into that fantasy, similar to how people fantasize about scars.
I went to a powerlifting club event earlier this week, and the other two people there at first were freshmen who were benching 315. I ended up leaving after a little bit since I wasn’t vibing too well, but that along with the advent of social media had me feeling small and weak. But also when I do things like Jiujitsu, I’m considered freakishly strong, and even against people way better than me I’m able to just purely muscle my way out of a lot of things without even meaning to. Against the professor, I was able to hold my ground for a little bit due to my strength, since I was almost able to get him in an Ezekiel choke, but he was able to get out and get control of me. From that point on he was in a winning position, and instead of transitioning to a mount, he kept turning my arms over and putting his weight on my chest or stomach with his knees. He even said “it’s more fun this way” until he eventually flipped me over and pulled my shoulder back until I tapped.
A younger me would have wanted to cry and been upset about how unfair it was and how he was being cruel, but now I kinda feel proud that I was strong or worthy enough for someone so physically bigger than me and more experienced to go out like that. I’m proud of myself and how I’ve grown.
T agreed to fire up fall guys again, and so I put on my burger outfit and proceeded to call myself “the beast” as we proceeded to lose like 15 games in a row. We agreed to play until we won one, and eventually we got one and I growled so hard that I lost my voice for a bit. We kept playing for a while and now we’re playing a few games of league. I love nights like this, it is so much fun to scream at each other and make blatant excuses for losing.
I feel horrible for this, but I just don’t feel the spark with E. I think we’re fairly different people and at the end of the day, she isn’t what I have in mind for what I want in a partner. I think I’m going to wait a little bit so that it’s not immediately after a date, and then look to break the news. I guess another lesson learned.
I went to the powerlifting club meeting today, and it was two other people and they both were freshmen benching 3 plates. I ended up leaving kinda early since I just didn't vibe, but that spurred on some feelings I had forgotten about. I remembered how painfully mediocre I am. That toxic flame reignited, as I just got surrounded by that familiar feeling, and I ended up doing every single leg exercise as a drop set. I just kept repeating to myself “how much do you hate me” and that would spur me on to keep doing another rep. When I stand up, I can't move my legs the same but that pain was bliss. The feeling of muscles being ripped and begging to stop is enough to just block out everything else and all that's left is a feeling of ecstacy. That bliss is the reward that I'm chasing.