duck, duck, noose

"I'm sorry for the way I am
I'm tired of waiting for the past
I'm lookin' for a better place
I'm longin' for findin' my way around..."
-Groove Armada, History

I feel like we are living in an age of one-sided relationships.  We as social network users put ourselves out into the world and allow anyone with an Internet connection to get to know us through our words or art or music or favorite movies, etc.  And we never know who's watching, who has taken an interest in us, who forms feelings for us based on mutual love for zombies or writing or puppies or Sweet Brown memes.  We build our personalities through our blogs and Tumblrs and other sites and that creates the potential for trouble.  

The problem with following someone through their social networking sites before you get to actually know them is you've already taken the time to shape who you think they are in your head, forming a one-sided sense of who they are through their words.  And you see these commonalities and connections and when you finally talk to that person, you expect the two of you to click and hit it off right away.  Sometimes it actually happens.  Sometimes it doesn't.  And in the times it doesn't, you feel disappointed.  I've been let down.  I wonder how it didn't work out.  We have so much in common.  We've walked the same paths.  Maybe I'm ugly.  Maybe I try to hard.  Maybe the other person is just looking for a certain type of person to befriend.  Maybe the other person just doesn't have room for one more friend.

I think we've all been through this.  We all know how it feels to follow someone who doesn't know we exist or couldn't care less if they did.  It's definitely disheartening and as painful as it can feel, we shouldn't take it personally. 

I try to remember it's not my fault and it's not the other person's fault.  Sometimes two people just don't connect.  Sometimes you're the one with no interest and sometimes the other person has no interest in you.  I've been on both sides of the situation and both are difficult but at least I can understand when someone does not want to talk to me and I can leave it alone and deal with my issues without pulling the other person into my muddled mind.

Those polar opposite examples sum up my relationships with everyone throughout my life.  It's almost always been one-sided.  Any mutual interests have been superficial friendships or genuine good relationships I eventually wrecked due to my insecurity and selfishness.  But despite these many mishaps, I feel like I've tried to continue to branch out, connect, and make new relationships.  I have not been very successful.

The only problem is when I meet someone new, especially someone I admire or respect as an artist, I over think and over analyze my words and actions.  I want to be cool and smart and easy to talk to.  I want to be funny.  I want to be liked.  And sometimes I think the stress of trying not to show my craziness becomes more trouble than the relationship is worth.  I just don't know how to interact with people in a natural, effortless manner.  I feel like every move and word is calculated and it's exhausting.

The stress makes me want to withdraw.  I don't feel cut out to be a sociable creature.  Nice effort, Bran, but no success.  It messes me up because I don't want to be isolated.  I want to be able to reach out and have someone there.  But am I deserving of it?  Can I handle it?  Have I been mishandling all my relationships and that's why I don't feel fulfilled by any of them?  Or am I just over thinking again?

There is an ebb and flow to every relationship.  I'm not going to be great all the time but I'm just so terrified of losing people that I feel like one awkward moment or social slip would mean the demise of the relationship.  And as lonely as I might feel, the frustration of dealing with forming a fellowship doesn't feel worth the hassle anymore.  Maybe I'm alone for a reason.  Maybe I'm mean to be a loner.  I can talk with people and share and give and take but at the end of the day, all I have is myself, which would be fine if I liked myself, but you've got to like yourself before anyone can like you.  Or some horse crap like that.  I always end up feeling empty.

I walk around this circle of people and inspect and analyze and hone in on those I feel have potential and when I choose, the race is on and they chase me down and knock me over the head with my own insecurities.  But they aren't really doing anything.  I think I'm in control, that I'm choosing carefully, that I don't just let anyone in.  I think I'm being particular in picking these people out but I'm really just picking myself apart.

special

"So one last touch and then you'll go
And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile, and it was cheap
And you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me..."
-The Postal Service, Tiny Vessels 

I keep thinking if I can just make good art, someone will notice.  Someone will appreciate.  Someone will understand.  Someone will care.

I'm always looking to be validated based on a product, not personality.  I'm not too fond of myself so I look to my art in hopes of garnering attention.  Sometimes I think it's easier to dress up my writing rather than my mind.

But even trying to do that feels terrifying because art is an extension of one's self and if my art is rejected, so am I.  I'm not ready to face that kind of pain so I don't finish projects.  They stay in a work-in-progress limbo to hold off the possibility of finishing, then failing.

I want my work to matter.  I want to matter.  And yet I'm scared of finding out neither one does.

If I don't have my work or myself, what do I have left to offer the world?  If I have nothing then I am nothing and if I am nothing, why am I here?

I'm no one's number one and it's disheartening.  I know a lot of people care about me but nothing feels like it runs deep enough to fulfill me.

The majority of us have people who care for us.  But it doesn't make us feel any better.  It doesn't ease the loneliness or the separation.  Why?  I wonder if it's because we only have certain people we've deemed appropriate to assuage the agony.  Maybe some people just don't count because we don't care for them as much as they care for us.

That sounds kiiiind of horrible.

But I think a lot of us feel that way.  Otherwise, any person who came along and offered a friendly hand would fix the frustration.  But we still feel bad.

Maybe it's just more gratifying getting recognition from those we admire.  The problem with that is the people I admire usually don't admire me.  Or sometimes I admire them from afar and make them out to be grander than they really are.  And then I feel inadequate around them, like I'm not good enough, like they couldn't possibly be interested in me.  I'm a fan.  I'm a faraway admirer.  I can't be their friend.

Sometimes they do like me.  Sometimes they don't.  And the ones who don't are the ones I want approval from the most.  A lot of us probably feel that way from time to time.  It's like having a crush.  We want the ones we want to want us.  Unfortunately, we tend to discount the ones we don't want who want us.

It's the way relationships work.  It seems most of them are one-sided.  How many times have we had a crush on someone who wasn't interested or never even noticed us?  It applies not only to romantic endeavors but to all relationships.  We have co-workers who didn't give us the time of day or teachers who wouldn't talk to us or cousins who chose not to play with us.  We meet writers who write us off, girls who gag in our presence, boys who bruise our egos.

Sorry, I'm just not that interested in you.

But I could be a good friend.  Someone you can confide in.  Someone who will make you feel good.

Nah, that's okay.  I have my sights set on something else (i.e., someone better).  

I'm guilty of this myself.  And I've been a victim of it.

We want to feel special and there are people out there who are capable of making us feel special so why don't we let them help us?  Is it superficial like some mental caste system in our minds?  Are we categorizing people, sorting them out, putting them in files in order of importance?  Or is it something deeper, something harder to explain?  How do we get to the root of relationships and what we want out of them?

Do we simply want attention or do we sometimes strive for symbiosis?  Do we want to help them as much as they want to help us?  And do we decline their offer of assistance and discount their support and encouragement because there is no perceived balance?  We can't help them so they cannot help us?  Sure, some would eagerly eat all anyone had to offer without thinking of giving back.  But I also think other people do genuinely want to give as much as they take.

I can't help but wonder if I really want to give as much as I want to believe I do and that's the reason I can't accept the affection of others or if, in reality, I'm just a snob about who I take it from.

Are you special enough to help me?  Am I special enough to deserve it?        

with guitar strings to guide us

I want to make out to some good music.

I just want to make out.

I really just want to make it through knowing I have no one to make out with.

role to play (i'm not even who i thought i was)

"But I wish I could feel it all for you
I wish I could be it all for you
If I could erase the pain
Maybe you'd feel the same..."
-Ellie Goulding, Guns and Horses

"How dare you be you, how dare I be me?
The two of us lost in our own fantasy..."
-Liz Phair, Oh, Bangladesh

Reaching out isn’t working out. At least I can say I tried. But after seeing the results, I think it would have hurt less had I not.

I have a problem with subconsciously assigning people roles in my life.  It's messed up because these people don't know I've done it and they have no responsibility to fulfill those roles but when they don't, I get upset and disappointed and have this internal struggle over whether I should be angry or not.

Of course I shouldn't be angry because it's not their fault but in my irrational mind, I just think how could that person not realize they were supposed to be my mentor/therapist/advice giver/comedian/dinner companion, etc.  It's silly that I do this and I don't even know why I do it and why I can't get it under control.

Going back to The Perks of Being a Wallflower commentary I mentioned in my last post, Emma Watson talked about meeting fans and how scary it can be because they have this expectation of what she should be and she has to fulfill those expectations in the minute or so she interacts with them and it's a lot of pressure and I think that logic applies to people in general, celebrity and non-celebrity alike.  It applies to relationships. 

We get involved with people, be they friends or lovers, and after a while, we pick out certain character traits about them we find beneficial to our lives and we subconsciously expect them to pull out those traits and treat us but people are multi-faceted and we can't expect them to perform for us like that.  Comedians shouldn't be expected to be funny all the time.  Writers shouldn't be expected to turn their to-do list into poetry.  Those who give advice sometimes need advice. 

But we build up expectations and wait for them to be met and sometimes they are and sometimes they are not and we are disappointed and disillusioned and then we judge.

I've noticed this often happens a lot with people I admire from afar for a while and eventually try to contact.  I hear them or see them or read them and construct their personalities from the bits of information they've provided and go into the relationship with a specific idea of who they are.  That's not the best thing to do because, as with any kind of self-representation in any form of media, you are only giving a certain aspect of who you are.  It's hard to be well-rounded when you're the one telling people who you are.  How you see yourself and how other people see you can be different.  At least, I know it is in my case. 

But a full personality comes out in intimate conversations and inside jokes, something you can't convey through canvas and cliffhangers.  I'm not saying you can't get a sense of someone through their art or online presence.  Sure you can.  But as I said, you're only getting pieces.  You're getting a persona but only personal relationships fill in those gaps.  The danger is in those personal relationships not steering in the direction you hope based on the information you have gathered.

I should stop doing this because it's harmful to others and to myself.  I get disappointed and then I disengage and might miss out on a good relationship just because they didn't come to the game with the right gear.  Plus, it's painful.  I don't want to be disappointed and I also don't want to disappoint others.  I'm sorry if I'm not who you thought I was.  I'm not even who I thought I was.  

Let's all just stop having expectations, okay?  No one is ever as good as we hope them to be.  And it's not their fault.  And it's not yours.  It's just a symptom of a swelling heart.          

a couple of perks

I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower last weekend and it was great and it made me both happy and sad.  I related to Charlie, the main character and an outcast of sorts.  I could not relate to the Charlie who finally found a place he belonged.  But good for him.

I just wondered if there was a story out there about a boy who never found his place.  Where was the tale of the guy who sat at the lunch room table by himself?  Where's the book about the boy who reached the end and found nothing was resolved?  Stories like that don't exist because people don't want a depressing ending.  They need to have hope for the boy because they are the boy and if the boy doesn't make a connection, they fear they won't either and no one wants to consider that could be a reality for them.

So we set him up with some good friends and a crush and he gets kissed and holds hands under the stars and it's book perfect.  And we feel both happy and sad because we don't have that but the boy is us and so if he finds it, so will we.

But some people know better.

In the movie (and book), Charlie writes letters to someone, chronicling a year in his life, but we are never told who he writes.  And it made me want to write letters to anonymous people, too.  What if I selected an address out of the phone book and wrote to this stranger, told him or her what was going on in my life?  What if I sent several strangers these kinds of letters?  What if I followed up every month or two?  "Hi, it's me again.  This is what has happened since the last time I wrote you."  But I'd keep myself anonymous as well.  A letter written from the heart and sent to one stranger from another.

Of course, it could be borderline creepy.

I think there's something kind of romantic and beautiful about reaching out to a complete stranger, making an intimate connection, sharing personal struggles and triumphs through a filter of anonymity.  I like the juxtaposition and the...well, borderline creepiness of it, to be honest.  I just know if someone sent me a random anonymous letter that let me glimpse into their life, I'd be fascinated.  Well, it was a good life with good writing, of course.  I don't need anyone sending me their school schedule or grocery list.

Oh, and I listened to the author/director commentary after I watched the movie and it was almost better than the movie.  He delves deeper into the book and the movie and the characters and how he felt about making the movie and writing the book and all the feels he tried to capture and it was just nice and warm and beautiful and I recommend it.