An Open Letter

I know I’ve talked about this earlier, but I think music is an incredible way to feel connected, and validated. Recently I’ve been listening a lot to this song by Reignwolf, called Wanna don’t wanna. I wanted to make my daily post about how it relates to me. The chorus of the song goes:

I wanna die when I look in your face Don't even try getting out of my way It’s like you don't realize what you're doing to me I wanna, don't wanna, I wanna, don't wanna, I wanna!

For me, this really resonated because specifically of when Tonia (my ex) ghosted me. I remember distinctly how many times I saw her the months after, all while commuting back and forth from classes. I remember how all the pain would instantly come back when I would see her, and how everything would come to a standstill for a bit, with just me alone in my head. She would actively try to avoid me, by hiding or trying to get away from me as fast as she could, and without ever getting closure it hurt all the more. I don’t think that she was intentionally trying to hurt me as efficiently as possible, she was probably just doing what she thought was in her best interest; but regardless it still cut deep. I think the parallels are fairly obvious to the first three lines, but for the last line it reminds me of the process of healing. I wanted so badly to reach out and try to ask her to talk, to figure out what happened and to give myself closure. I wanted to see her face, see if I could fix what happened. But ultimately I know that it would be so much worse if I did that; and that I shouldn’t. I was constantly faced with that contradictory desire, on one hand wanting so badly to talk to her and reopen that wound with the chance of closing it completely, while I also knew that what I was doing would only make it worse and so I shouldn’t.

I’m glad to say I’m fully over it now, but it feels nice to know that there is some art out there that has some semblance of meaning for my own struggles. It’s nice to know someone has gone through something similar to you, and that they were able to create something nice out of it.

It concerns me how short these posts are getting, I don’t know if it means I’ve ran out of things I want to say to others or if I’m just thinking less, but I think its incredibly easy for me to just slip up and lose a day, or a weekend, or a week. If I don’t remain vigilant I will fall back into bad habits again, and I don’t want to fall back into those patterns.

I’m honestly afraid of what I can become again.

Watching poker games, and movies about gambling ruining peoples lives, I can’t help but to feel a sort of call, as in wanting to follow in the same footsteps. Something is incredibly calming and peaceful thinking about going to a casino to just gamble, and drink the night away. Having a group of friends to always to go, a safe place (at least other than financially) and of course the lure of alcohol to get away from life’s issues. I hope I don’t ever fall victim to it, but it does seem like a nice easy way out of a rough existence.

Unsurprisingly I feel completely unmotivated to post anything, as things often go for me. But I guess as an overarching component to it, is how easy it is to lose motivation. I originally wanted to study today, but after starting to play some games, even if I’m not enjoying it it takes too much effort to stop what I’m doing to start going through a textbook. It’s a shame the hedonic traps we fall into have been curated in the modern age.

Since I did well academically most of my life, that’s become the norm for me. However, taking certain special-topics classes for ML, which I plan to specialize in, I’ve gotten my ass beat. The reason success is a bad thing here is I’m not used to coming across something I don’t know if I can do. When faced with that soft barrier, I want to immediately stop. But the important thing is I prove to myself that I am capable of doing these things, as otherwise I will avoid this for the rest of my life.

I Find No Peace

-Sir Thomas Wyatt

I find no peace, and all my war is done.

I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.

I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;

And nought I have, and all the world I season.

That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison

And holdeth me not—yet can I scape no wise—

Nor letteth me live nor die at my device,

And yet of death it giveth me occasion.

Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.

I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.

I love another, and thus I hate myself.

I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain;

Likewise displeaseth me both life and death,

And my delight is causer of this strife.

Pretty fitting this poem shows up now, another instance of divine intervention I guess. This poem to me is another evidence to be filed away about shared struggle, one that persists through time. For me the poem is about contradiction, on how things happen completely irrationally, at least at first glance. How natural it is for humans to violently waver in stance back and forth, for me most commonly realized in the simultaneous desire for human connection, and to be left alone. How easy it is to want the easy soft parts of interaction, but without the consequence or cost.

Isn’t it silly how we want things we don’t want? What curious creatures we are.

Honestly I fully understand that this is delusional to say, but I honestly can’t shake the feeling that there is some higher power planning events in my life for me. A lot of events happen exactly when I need them, at almost comedic timing. A lot of times it’s almost like someone calls my bluff, and gives me what I ask for only for me to learn that I was wrong from it. Ultimately this may just be confirmation bias, but it is almost reassuring to believe that there is a reason for everything.

Sometimes when outside I get struck by a sense of grandiosity; how amazing it is that I get to live in a time where I can hear another person from a different time and place speak into my ear while I go 20 miles with just the brush of my finger on a remote control, and skate through bright sunny skies. The grass is green, the buildings are intricate, and there are so many different things to look at and enjoy. The same way someone romanticizes being in the 1800s laying in an open grass field, I am so in love with the life I have the chance to live.

Short post because I want to sleep: I was playing Overwatch with a random group of people, and one person kept making up all these lies, and continually doubled down on it. I think it was fairly obvious they were a pathological liar, but ultimately I just felt pity to some extent. I think having that as some coping mechanism must make life really hard, so what else is there to do but to extend compassion?

I think the most I can do is hope that some years down the line when they think of me they miss me