Revolting Door

Today was the first day when I actually let my housemate’s obsession, negative emotions and disturbing inner world get to me. After the Brazilian we had a lovely lunch at this very nice Indian restaurant with amazing food and friendly people. Well, the food was lovely, not our connection. I really didn’t wanna be with him right there and then, I had my Lover on my mind throughout the whole lunch, and I didn’t even try to be a nice conversationalist - something I usually am with my housemate. The moment we started talking about my Lover, he started spiraling down, and by the time we got done with the museum and got in the car to go back home, he was an emotional wreck. I could feel his tension, his anger, the frustration. During lunch he told me he is terribly jealous. At dusk, in the car on the way back, there was a minor conjestion at one intersection and the car behind us was honking, and he yelled “Shut the fuck up” with such fury and desparation that I should’ve been made out of metal to not let that negativity reach me to the core - that was an enormous turn off right there, but the same second I thought about the times I’ve done the same thing, with people around, and wondered how these people are still my friends today. But then I realized why my best guy friends from college would never even consider being with me - because those boys have seen the worst in me and I don’t blame them, I’m in fact grateful that they’re still the great friends they are today. He kept driving and apologized but I mentioned that I’m a little scared, jokingly suggested that maybe I should drive. We kept trying to find our way to the interstate but he was really not doing well, emotionally, at all. I felt sorry for him, I felt bad, I’ve been there, right there where he is right now, and I know no one can help in that moment. All I can do is be there for him but that’s really all. I also didn’t wanna let that depression get to me, after I haven’t been in it for so many months now and I feel happy. I just feel like taking things easy, not thinking too much, just do more than think, if possible. I told him that from all that was going on, I had started feeling guilty without being guilty, and that he’s making me feel like I’m doing something wrong - this whole situation so reminded me of my ex and the times I desperately tried to make him pay attention to me - what sad times. So we reached the point where he said he’s really hurting, really hurting right now. He pulled up at a parking lot, handed me the car keys, got out of the car and started walking away. I was like what the hell. I stopped him and told him to get back in. He was falling apart at that point. I didn’t see tears but I think he was crying. So I hugged him. And held him there at the parking lot for a good five minutes, and I couldn’t believe I’m a part of a similar drama again, only this time he was the one obsessed. Then we got in the car and I drove home. I made the mistake to ask him what can I do to fucking help, if there is ANY thing I can do. So he said the only thing I can do is to not have my Lover over. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK! I was angry at that point but I have to admit I completely understand. I just wish he could fucking deal with himself and find a girlfriend and find a job and stop being obsessed with me. I told him that I would totally move out if I had the money but I can’t. He wants me to stay though. It turned out that his sister asked him if he would like me to move out. He said no, but if he had said yes, they would be kicking me out right now. Then I tried to turn things around by talking about how at least he has all his family members near by, his whole support system - sister, mother, father; and how I’m completely alone - without siblings and without seeing my mom and dad for seven years except the summers, and how practically no one in this country cares for me, but what the hell, I still keep going, right. Same with my Lover by the way, his whole support system is right here by his ass. No wonder he doesn’t care if people are his friends or not. So anyway, we finally came back home, without accidents, and I felt so overwhelmed with negative energy I just couldn’t focus on shit and felt so exploited and emotionally used and just literally like a fucking emotional dumpster. I am listening to relaxing music right now, I don’t wanna see anyone particularly not my housemate, except maybe to tell him how shitty he made me feel and that he should feel proud of himself if that’s what he wanted to accomplish - SUCCESS! - and just trying to let go of all this negative energy filled with his depression, desparation, and self-loathing.

Maybe it was a mistake to talk to him about how my Lover makes me feel relaxed and happy and how everything seems easy when he’s around, while I feel my housemate’s tension when he’s tense (which is pretty much all the time) and pick it up. But I just wanted to let it out of my system. Next time I should find a more appropriate person to let things out of my system to.

Interview tomorrow. Shitty company. Scumbags. Who take people’s money (not mine. their customers’). As I said earlier, I’m at the point where I don’t care; I could possibly care after the first few paychecks.

I got a Brazilian today for the first time. I experienced pain I haven’t experienced in my life. I forgot all about cold or hunger or the urge to pee. The one thought that helped me power through it was “You gotta try anything once!” When it was over, I felt so happy I couldn’t stop giggling. And you know why? You think because I was all smooth down there? No! It was because every little thing felt like pleasure after that excruciating pain. Just sitting at a table felt like pleasure, that tiny bite of candy I tried was heavenly, the sun through the window of the candy shop, literally just sitting there without feeling pain felt like an enormous pleasure…

The lady was extremely delicate and gentle (as gentle as you can be when you rook someone’s hair out of their roots) and she kept saying that the first time is the worst and it’s only gonna get better and it’s worth it. I asked her if she does it to herself and she said no, just bikini line. No comment:)

I had these thoughts today about how the amount of pain we experience is directly proportionate to the amount of pleasure it leads to. And I do like to think that pleasure comes after pain, not the other way around. I recently read in this book how women experience more happiness in their lives, but altogether the happiness of men and women is equal because women also experience more sadness too, while men’s emotions are generally more averagely leveled. To tell you the truth, I’d rather pay the price of pain and have extrodinary highs, rather than have an average dull boring life.

So I wish my day had ended there. See next post for details on how shit hit the fan.

Three weeks in wintery Chicago is MORE THAN ENOUGH!!! The first two weeks were tons of fun but now I’ve been sick for a week and it doesn’t seem to get any better, damn it. I think I’ll go to Florida again in the end of February, for a week or two, to catch some sun, breathe some warm and healthy ocean air, walk by the beach, look at the palm trees, cruise on Ocean Drive in a sexy rental car. All this comes from a person who lives on private loans and friends’ loans. I don’t even feel bad about it anymore. I know I shouldn’t say this but these days I’ve been thankful I don’t have a job! I would probably be a ball of irritation and stretched nerves with pneumonia right now if I had to commute every day in this weather AND maintain healthy relationships with retards and tense and stressful jerks at work. Not to mention the backpain. If I can find a source of income, even if it’s non-traditional, I wouldn’t care less if I don’t have a fucking 9 to 5 job. I met a friend from school for lunch today, during lunch hour, at a food joint downtown, and I was literally hit and overwhelmed by the tense vibes of all the people there, waiting in line, sitting around, trying to gulp their food as quickly as possible so they’re not late going back to their miserable little cubicles and their demanding retarded ass bosses. By the time I left downtown, I was dizzy, irritable, and just couldn’t wait to get on the train to my neighborhood. I can’t believe I lived there for almost a year… My friend was telling me about her life in Seattle before she moved to Chicago and how much more relaxed and laid back their culture is, how much warmer and friendly people are up there. I’ve heard this about that area before, Oregon also, and I’ll definitely make it one of my next stops on my travel list.

I just got my Diploma in the mail! Another reason to party!! Woohooo!!!

And then one day when you think you’ve experienced everything, you’ve seen and done it all, you’re tired of listening to the same songs you once loved, then you accidentally discover some new combination of sensual experiences that makes you feel alive again, and you realize there will always be new things to surprise you, new images and sounds to take your senses on a trip to places you’ve never been.

I’ve been listening to Jamie Cullum’s songs for years and then this morning I watched the videos for the first time while listening to the same old songs I know by heart, and it was a whole new world. I felt like I have discovered something new and amazing while it has been there all along. And if a song and its video can do such miracles for you, can you imagine what other miracles there are out there waiting to be discovered…

My aunt and I sat outside on the porch in our jammies for long hours tonight, talking, while killing our lungs and sharing a cup of coffee. When the horizon started getting lighter with the dawn, I realized we had pulled an all-nighter. An all-nighter by choice, very different from the ones in college after a long and dreadful paper or the ones at a party when you feel drowned in alcohol and exhausted and empty. It’s seven in the morning, I haven’t slept since yesterday, and I’ve never felt so awake and not willing to go to bed. With the palm trees right across from our balcony witnessing our conversation, and the sun getting ready to rise above the Atlantic ocean, I realized again for a few seconds how blessed I am for all this right now. As I was taking a walk around the lake earlier tonight, I tried to infuse a dose of self-esteem in myself, I tried to walk tall and proud of the person I am, imagining this would be the way I’d walk into a room full of strangers when I need to show them how accomplished and confident I am without having to say a word. When I left the porch a few minutes ago I looked back and watched the swing swinging softly behind me, still infused with the vibrations of my body getting up. Now it seems too bright outside and I’m sitting in the living room on the couch, feeling a little bit like an outlaw, a criminal-kid guilty of not being in bed when everyone else is. Somewhere I read that writing is self-indulging; that it’s selfish. I see how people can thing that, but I think it’s a healthy and creative way to let go of things.

You’re looking in all the wrong places.