Random Thoughts of 2016, Volume 2

I just cried like a baby watching a film that I’ve seen five times.

It’s like the only movies that I want to watch lately are movies that attack my emotions like a cat-5 hurricane pounding a beachfront.

I don’t think that this is a bad thing. It’s that I really want to feel these things. I want to be torn down. I want to be exposed. I want to be left for dead. I want to smile again when it’s over. I want all of these things, and I know that that seems like a lot to ask for from a film, but there are films that exist that get me there.

Something that has been on my mind lately has been the idea of belonging. It’s a funny thing. There are times when I’m absolutely sure that I’m spending time with my people. Times when I’m more than okay. Times when time both slows down and hurries up at the same time. Then there are times when I feel ridiculously alone. Times when I’m absolutely sure that there is no one within 200 miles of me that understands me.

There are also times when I wish that I knew when I was 16 the things about life that I know now. I know that this seems like a cliche idea but cliches exist for a reason. I think I would have probably been more brave. Life feels so big when you’re that age. It’s like every person that you encounter and every decision that you have to make is a dying supernova and you’re a planet about the size of the moon, trying to work your way through the starlight, looking for anything to hold on to while the universe falls apart all around you.

I doubt that anybody ever forgets what it feels like to feel alone once they’ve felt intensely alone. The first time I didn’t feel alone was when I met up with some guys at church about a decade ago, and fell in with that whole movement. It carried me for a while, and then it was over. I walked away, and nobody ran after me. I’m not blaming anybody. I’ve had people walk away from me over the years for many of the same reasons, and I didn’t chase after them. It’s just a thing that happens. Still, I think about it late at night, and I begin to tell myself that I miss it, but all I really miss is the feeling that I belonged somewhere.

This is a really weird spot to be in. It almost feels like running in place; like I’m feeling all of these emotions over and over, but finding that there’s really nowhere for me to go afterwards. It’s just rinse and repeat. It’s probably a sad way to be, so I’m thankful that I don’t set up camp and spend more time than necessary in these moments.

The moments do exist though. The questions that I ask myself. Questions like:

“Why are you writing this?”

I honestly do not know.

“Why are you all in your feelings when you could be sleeping?”

I do not have an answer for that either, other than the fact that I think I might be tied to my negative emotions Stockholm-syndrome style. I feel really sad sometimes, but it’s almost like I want to. These are the only times that I’ve written anything lately.

I was writing a book a couple of months ago. I gave up on it because the emotions that I was exploring in writing it became too overwhelming. I went back a couple of nights ago and reread what I had written. I really liked most of it. I also got really sad afterwards. It’s like I’m stuck in some kind of limbo where I’m wanting so badly to tell this story, but I don’t feel like I have the emotional fortitude to tell it. It’s a very frustrating place to be.

That’s all.

I’m actually as happy as I’ve ever been, once I rip away and shine a light on the imaginary sensations that I thought were making me happy a few years ago. If anything, I can tell you that the things that I’m feeling these days are very real, and they are very true to who I am, if that makes any sense. I appreciate the fact that I don’t have to put on a mask to impress anybody these days.

That’s really all.