Memories Embodied

You were a racist, bigoted, transphobic, spoiled girl
All your daddy's money couldn't get you to seek help for the mental disorders that tore everything up
You made fun of a lot of people, but I just thought you were funny

I didn't see any of that until now
Because you were gorgeous and made me smile
You loved animals and music
You inspired me to exercise
Your bed was so big and comfortable
We could feel everything in each others' eyes
And the there was a frustrating thrill in how hard we tried to keep it all a secret

I still don't understand what happened
It's all a fuzzy blur, a drunken night that lasted years
All I know is that you changed me
And that is something that will always be

I think of you on the daily
And when I manage not to, I'm reminded in my dreams
I think of you when I smoke a cigar or take a hit of weed
I think of how pissed you'd be
So I smile and keep going

When I fucked that girl in October
I was so proud
Because you weren't the only one anymore
You were better though
And I later realized that night was the date you took my virginity two years prior
And I just laughed

I know you're still alive
But you're not the same person
You just happen to share the same body as that girl that changed me
And in my eyes she's died
Which is for the best
So at least I can mourn and move on

I wonder if you still think of me
Though it really doesn't matter
Because it won't change the fact that I still think of you
Whether you loved me or not, whether you still do
Won't change that I'll never get over you
Won't change that I never want to see you again

Why Is Life So Tough?

Asking questions during Science Time
The teacher seems so impressed
At recess I talk to myself
As the other kids laugh, running and playing
Why is being a child so tough?

Driving home at night after a winter's day of work
My first semester of college slips by
The radio coaxes out my loneliness
And I sit in all my lacking
Love, money, and purpose
Why is being a young adult so tough?

I just turned thirty-two
I'm a doctor now, a real scientist
Who traded all for a university lab
Too busy thinking to think
Finding comfort in these drinks
And my bills are paid, but there's still a debt in my heart
Why is being a grown man so tough?

My feet never got better
And now I'm an old man with a cane
Small and balding, but he's so smart
That's what my young students say anyway
And my smile has never been more tired
Why is being an old man so tough?

This is it
Sitting at death's door
A warm cat sleeps on my bony body
He may as well be as old as I am
It's hard to breathe but I'm not done yet
The nurse notices a faint twinkle lingering in my eyes
And I tell her
You'd think
That after a life of struggle
This would be easy
So why is dying so tough?

Just Another Selfish Post

I'm so exhausted. I am so busy, but I do nothing. I feel I'm doing life, not living it. I walk through the motions, but they don't mean anything, really. Nothing seems genuine or significant anymore, except for petting Max. That's the one thing that is still real.

I'm worried, worried that I'm not cut out for this. For this life, for college. I don't know what to do except for drag on. I guess I'll either do it or I won't.

The only thing getting real is my mental unhealth. I feel the depression, stress, anxiety kicking in full gear. The associated derealization, lack of motivation, and fatigue are there too. Nothing is really interesting. Well, there's plenty that's interesting, just not the things I'm supposed to do.

Oh well. I guess I just keep going, or keep pretending to at least.

Derealization

I'm not sure what to make of life. I feel I'm not really connected to much but thoughts, ideas. I don't feel I have a physical, tangible identity. I am not my actions, my appearance.. I am just a collection of thoughts. I try to find stability, connection, in doing things, but nothing feels real. Nothing feels like it really grabs me and shakes me as something critical, important, or lasting. Nothing seems to matter. Why is this? Is it because nothing does matter? Is it because I've not lived the way I should, for things to matter? Do I make things matter by changing my reality? Is changing my thought process, my attitude, enough, or do I need to actually change the physical actions, the environment, the outside look of my life? 

I wish I didn't see as much as I see, or think as much as I think. I wish I was like the others around me, going on halfway happy, or at least content, with the state of their lives, their days.

I need something real. I need something spiritual. The more I try to find it within myself, the further away it flits, a fairy dancing in the grass which gets taller the closer I approach. So either I am thinking wrong, or I am becoming more aware of the unhappiness that is my outside life. What is it? What do I do? Where do I go? I no longer feel a strong path beneath my feet. It's at times literally nauseating to have this floating feeling, no anchors to any particular thing. Am I adjusting to spiritual freedom, or drifting away from sense? Where do I find purpose in this experience?

DiaryEntry8/10

Talking to probably a math major. He says how it's depressing you can't finish math, according to some theorem. I say "well of course you can't, why would you need to?" 
"It means there are some problems that can't ever be answered"
"Why would we need them then, if they can't be answered, or perhaps they aren't meant to be answered"
"well that turns into a big of a religious debate"
"hardly"
"then what do you mean by "not meant to be answered?""
"Well, if it can't be answered, it doesn't matter. It's not important if it can't be answered because there's no point."
"We can't figure out if it's pointless sometimes. We sometimes don't know if there's not an answer"
"It makes it more interesting :)"
"I think it's depressing"
"It's only depressing if someone devotes their entire life to a solution and die not knowing it can't be solved"
"That happens a lot"
"I don't know about a lot, but it does happen"
"Einstein spent the last 20 years of his life devoted to a problem that remains unsolved"
"But he did a lot of other things"
"yeah but 20 years is a long time"
"And of all the depressing ways to spend a life, I'd say it's pretty equal. some people get unlucky I guess you could say"
"actually I'm pretty sure a lot of people spent their whole lives trying to solve fermat's last theorem and failed. it went unsolved for 300 years, so"
"at least they were kept in a pursuit they were passionate about. they didn't lead depressing lives, but it may seem that way to the outsider."
And he said no more. I see the differences between us here. He is a strictly analytical, scientific mind. He sees something as being sad for the scientist. However, I think of this as not being sad for the human, so why should the scientist be sad about it? I look wider to the meaning outside of a mathematical scope. I go into the worldly philosophical view, in my pursuit of individuation, and letting go of the illusion of the self.  He may have more knowledge of math than I do..but who is wiser? I feel I'm asking questions that most people don't bother to think about, or perhaps they can't fathom them. I feel connected to my old philosophers.

I wonder how big of an impact songs that were listened to often in childhood have on a person. I realized, when listening to "Barbie Girl," I probably get a very very different experience than most people do, because I grew up with it and it's ingrained itself onto me.

Maybe some people think darkness and death are "sexy" because they are so emotional and intense topics.

If everything is filtered through a social and environmental context, then how are we to truly know our true selves? Is there such a thing as a true self? I don't think it can be discovered, in all honesty, because the world around us has become such an ingrained part of us.

I didn't choose my name

I've had people tell me, "Oh, I like the name Darren," or "I don't mean to offend you but I don't really like the name Darren." I find it odd, because they say it much more often now with my "new" name than they ever did before with the old. I didn't "choose" this name because it's my favorite name; it's really not. I chose it because it's always kind of been my name. It's always kind of been there, and I've used it to various extents throughout my life. I don't recall really ever choosing it. It's just my name... I'm just Darren.

Nature's Claim

I belong to no God or Devil. I am my own spirit, to which only nature may otherwise lay claim. I am dynamic; I move and I evolve and never stay too long in one place. I have control over my life. I am me, and only I may know that. I may falter, though I will never fall. I look lovingly upon the hair on my forearm; light though abundant. It is my hair, on my arm. It is a connection to the world around me, the world of other mammals, the world of furry beasts. I am a furry beast. I know myself, or strive to. I have company, but I am alone, my experience is mine alone, but I have the power to share it if I so choose. Max, my cat, is like me. He is a furry beast who belongs to no Devil or God. He is his own entity, and he is under his own as well as nature's dominion. There is only living for the furry beast; there is no such thing as being lost or misguided. This is simply an illusion caused by the ego of man, the ego which wishes to overcome nature. The self can overcome the ego, but the ego can never overcome nature, or ever truly overcome the self. The ego is that which pathologizes a natural life experience. There is only earth upon which we walk, hilly, steep, rocky, sometimes soft, but it is earth nonetheless, we are meant to walk it as we are meant to breathe, though at times it may not be easy. A gravelly beach is not Hades. It is a gravelly, rocky beach. We may wear shoes or not, but we must walk on either way.