So I overthink things all the time. Actually, pretty much constantly. And most of the time movies will cause me to do just that. That said, I watched two movies today: Dazed and Confused and Wanted. Now, these two movies couldn’t be farther from similar. One is about how high school kids spent the summer of 1976, while the other is a shoot-’em-up flick that I thought was closer to Office Space on a bad acid trip than anything else. Yet after both movies I thought about the same thing, which can really be summed up by the last line in Wanted, when the main character turns to the camera after sniping out his last enemy and says, “What the fuck have you done lately?”

Dazed and Confused may not have asked that question so blatantly or in quite the same terms, but ultimately I did. What have I done with my life lately? I’ve worked. And when I wasn’t working I did nothing really. Not the kind of “nothing” they did in the movie, either. In the movie they had a blast, they lived life. I can’t exactly say that I’ve followed that path. In fact, the opposite is probably true: I’ve worried about life too much while not living it at all.

It’s almost like this blog is a small picture of what I’m talking about too. How many times have I said on here that I want to do what Wesley did in Wanted? To “take back control of my life?” The sad thing is that for every time I actually wrote it down, there were at least ten times more that I thought it and didn’t commit it to words. I’m constantly saying that I need to reform my path because it just isn’t working for me, but I guess I don’t really know how to do that. No matter where I go to, no matter what I decide to do with my life, no matter who I associate with, I’m still the same old guy who feels lonely in a crowded room and can’t manage to get his self-esteem up to average.

I don’t even know how to finish this post, how the hell am I supposed to know how to set up the rest of my life? I need some inspiration of sorts, and it needs to be something that can travel. I need to have it with me at all times, or else I’ll fall back to… this. And I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. I don’t deserve pity. But at the same time, if someone thinks they can help, that’s a different story.

Time for me to go, I have to go back to work tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. And the next.

Is it so wrong to be lonely? To feel a little self-pity? Sometimes a person almost can’t help it. Life turns to crap and we don’t feel like anything can fix it. Can that be healthy? Who knows I guess. A lot of people hold the opinion that it isn’t, though. That we need to always be happy and carefree and living in the now. But I just don’t operate that way. I look back into the past constantly and worry about the future the rest of the time. That is, whenever “now” isn’t working for me. Which sure seems to happen more often than not anymore. I’ve started to realize more and more that no matter how many friends I have, I don’t have a best friend. I don’t have someone that would stick up for me no matter what. Take my side in a serious situation. Pull me back from the brink should I ever reach it. And I’ve never had that person. I don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up around a lot of kids my age. Maybe it’s because I was picked on. Maybe it’s because I took to being a smart ass because of the bullying. I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure. And I certainly don’t have a girlfriend that can fit in that category. Which would be ideal. It just seems like no matter what I try, everything falls through. No matter how I act, it doesn’t work out. So once again, I don’t know why I wrote this for sure. just needed to vent again. I had a bad, lonely day, and I needed to get that out there.

I opened this new entry up and then just stared at it for a long time as Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida” played in my earbuds. Instead of writing anything, though, I drifted off into an almost asleep state. I could still hear the song, still feel the warmth of my laptop on my legs, but my body just became so relaxed. Indescribably relaxed. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so completely comfortable while still awake in my life (you know that feeling of a warm shower after a long day of work? It was kind of like that but…dry). I woke up when the song clicked over to Rock N’ Roll by Zeppelin (quite a jump, gotta love shuffle mode), and I looked at the totally blank wordpress screen and sighed. I had started this because I felt like I really needed to write something. Maybe you know the feeling, when there is definitely something profound inside of you and it’s just itching to burst out of your fingertips and into computer memory, but you can’t tap the well. It’s not like I needed to vent really, I did some of that already tonight. I guess I just felt like maybe there was something special in me tonight. Haha that sounds so vain. It’s hard to explain… Either way though, it doesn’t look like anything is going to come from it. When I finally got frustrated enough, I just started writing down what happened and that’s apparently what this entry is going to end up as. I guess it’s kind of a sad, cliche metaphor for my summer: a lot of meaningless, time-consuming moments and thoughts that ultimately end up being… pretty pointless.

(I haven’t written in forever, more on that later)

One thing is absolutely for sure: I lost something tonight. Something else has a much cloudier answer, but I hope beyond hope that I may have found something too.

First for the losing. Tonight, after basically a year-long yo-yo act (leave and return, leave and return) I lost my first love. Well maybe I should put lost in quotes. I “lost” her in my heart tonight. I haven’t really known where her heart has been for quite some time now. The crazy thing is… it still hurts. Half of me didn’t expect that finally hearing the words I didn’t want to hear would pierce me as it has. The other half of me knew all along, of course, and he also knew that I was being ridiculous to listen to my naive side. I was still clinging, though, and now I’ve let go of that last pinky. I’m falling away fast now, flying back up just isn’t an option. I really don’t know if I will land on something soft or not, but as a friend told me tonight, “You can only look to the future,” and as corny as that is, I’m listening. I’m trying desperately to stop looking up at the edge of the cliff as it disappears into the night, but turning while you’re falling isn’t an easy task.

So how about the finding? Well the thing is, ever since I’ve returned home from school (that is, for the last month or so) I’ve felt just so completely out-of-place! People have commented to me before that I seemed “different” but they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, elaborate. Right before I let go of her I got somewhat of an explanation. She said she didn’t want to forget the “old” me by ruining that image with the “new” me. Harsh. And it made me look at myself in the mirror. Literally, I went to the bathroom and stared at my reflection. I wiped away the single tear that fell from my eye, the last drop she’ll cause me to shed, and took a step back. I didn’t like what I saw, to say the least. And it wasn’t just the physical reflection, which has also suffered, it was what I saw in my eyes. That sounds bad, I know, but I really did look into my eyes… and they seemed desolate. I had looked before and seen a sort of gleam there, and now it was dull. What have I been doing with myself?

Well you wouldn’t really be able to answer that, would you? Seeing as I haven’t written since Finals Week back at the very beginning of May, if anyone was following my journal, they certainly aren’t now. Well finals were obviously stressful, and moving everything out was even worse, so you have to forgive me for those two weeks or so. Beyond that, I really have no excuse. My summer has sucked; I can’t find a job, I’ve had to deal with all of this, I haven’t done anything really towards fixing my weight… If anything I probably should have been writing even more than ever with all of that. Maybe, ultimately, not writing is to blame for me becoming “more dickish.” After all, this section is called “My Vent,” maybe when I don’t use My Vent I bend at the seams a bit. No matter what, tonight was (I hope) a much needed wake-up call for me. I’m going to try to get back on track over the next month and then get myself up to Boulder and start all over. Not the easiest task, for sure, but maybe I can just take heart in the words of John Mayer until then:
“It’s really over, you made your stand
You got me crying, as was your plan
But when my loneliness is through,
I’m gonna find another you

You take your sweaters
You take your time
You might have your reasons but you will never have my rhyme
I’m gonna sing my way away from blue
I’m gonna find another you.”

What defines summer better than our national pastime?  Warm sun. The smell of fresh cut grass. Hanging out with friends (lots of em). Cold drinks to cool you off. The crack of a base hit. Flashing leather. Strike outs. The roar of the crowd after a walk off home run.

The Boys of Summer are back in full force. I can’t think of anything better than that.

Yeah, I used fickle in my title.

So as you might guess I spent tonight as I spend nearly every night: procrastinating. Here’s the thing though, I really don’t think procrastination is always such a terrible thing. For instance, if I was purely working tonight, I wouldn’t have been able to see my Rockies win their season opener. If I was doing my spanish homework and not allowing for interruption, I would have never talked with a really cool girl on AIM for… was it really an hour? I guess time flies when you’re having a great conversation. So I guess my point is, procrastination can lead to some really rewarding experiences.

BUT

I now sit at my desk as the clock chimes 12:44 am (doesn’t your clock chime then, too?) with 11 spanish lab manual assignments to do and a paper to edit for tomorrow.

Then again…
I can always put the editing off until after lunch, right? haha.

Like I have alluded to, I’m in a good mood. If I told you there were two main reasons why, could you guess? Although, being in a good mood isn’t conducive to getting work done right now. On the contrary, being in a good mood is causing me to sit back and think about summer, baseball, Colorado, my birthday this weekend, and in the back of my mind…. what if? Possibly more on that to come in the future. We’ll just have to see. For now, no quiero hacer la tarea. I think that’s right. I quit spanish.

Our school got a break for Easter this year, but I didn’t go home because of the distance. Father Dan (the wonderful man I spoke about in my last post) let me know that the friars were having services on Mount Irenaeus. Side Info: Mt. Irenaeus is a series of cabins, two “houses”, and a chapel where some Fransiscan friars stay. It’s essentially a really neat friary and an amazing place for retreat. So anyway, I’ve been here before and knew it would be an awesome experience so I drove up here with another student (about 30 minutes away) this afternoon. As soon as we drove in I knew I made the right choice. Let me try to explain what the mountain is…
The Mountain is: a home away from home, great food, better company, a fellowship, a community, an experience.
The Mountain can be: utter silence and resonant laughter, a retreat and a meeting place, introversion and extroversion, solitary and communal.
The Mountain is: a seminary and a dating service, a chat room and a church, a classical piano piece with guitar solos.
The Mountain is a place for: Catholics, Protestants, Buddhists, Jews, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics, Pagans, and Wiccans.
The Mountain is: the first day of spring, snowfall on a winter night, the changing of the leaves, and the lazy days of summer.
The Mountain is: a warm shower after a hard day, the soothing calm before the storm, and a cool glass of lemonade on an August afternoon.
The Mountain can energize your soul, reform your thoughts, pull you back from the edge, reaffirm your faith, relax your nerves, and cure what ails ya.
The Mountain is a holy place, for ordinary people.

Ok so… needless to say I’ve had an amazing time up here. I’ve met new people and taken a deep look at where my life was heading. I’ve also laughed a LOT and maybe figured out where some of my strengths are. The Easter Vigil Mass up here was gorgeous. We decorated the Chapel with all kinds of flowers, lilies, daffodils, more lilies, daisies and on and on. It looked amazing. People came up from the surrounding towns to celebrate with us in the small room and it soon was filled with the voices of proclamation and healing. It started around 9 and we didn’t leave until 11:30… but it felt like 30 minutes. That’s what my Dad would call, “Good church,” with a smile. Now I’m the last one awake, sitting by the fire, typing away and listening to music. Can this be more relaxing?

Happy Easter everyone.
God Bless.

Ok so this was a dream I had last night (yeah, I know, really late in the day to be posting a dream, but I stayed at school for break so I literally have nothing to do BUT sleep in).

Anyway, the main person besides me in the dream is someone that I haven’t talked to in a while (not necessarily by my doing either…) who I really care a lot about. So in the dream I went home for summer and was hanging out with the person when… we had a fight about something. I’m not even sure what the fight was about but I know I felt like I was trying to help and they just got upset. Well I left and we were both upset, but a little later on in the dream (for some reason I thought it was like a week. Doesn’t matter though) I got the news that the person had died. Now I know this is a fairly normal sensation to have. It’s the whole, “What if someone I loved died and the last thing I said to them was something mean?” And I guess ultimately that’s what it was about. It’s just my reaction after I woke up that was different. In the dream I started freaking out and I ran to the person’s house frantically. As I approached the door I saw their parents and I kinda fell down and cried. That’s when I woke up. Crying. I didn’t start crying when I woke up, I was already crying. That’s never happened to me before. I’ve woken up from a nightmare freaking out, punching the air, grabbing at stuff, but never crying. I don’t know… it just really shook me (yeah, I know, I’m kind of a pansy, but I don’t care). Anyway… I immediately texted the person. I know they’re just fine but… it’s like I just need to hear it. And I haven’t yet. I’ve been up like an hour though and I’m fine, it was just a weird way to wake up this morning I guess.

Ok, so if you read my last blog, you know that this morning was really weird. Well this afternoon really wasn’t much different. I would sit down to work on my paper, eventually get frustrated with my thinking about other things and go for a walk. This happened several times. So anyway, as I walked in the rain (thinking, of course) I kept running into this one priest. Father Dan is an amazing guy and I’ve talked with him A LOT this semester (pretty much anytime that something has bothered me) and he just seems to be everywhere I am when I am in most need. He is an extremely jovial man and his laugh is incredibly infectious. At the same time, he always seems to know something is wrong just from a glance. So like I said, I kept bumping into him on my walks. He was at the intersection of the paths. As I walked through UMin I could hear his laugh echoing. He was outside of Doyle Hall as I entered it. Over and over! Each time he was headed somewhere so we never really said much besides pleasantries. However… after the first meeting it seemed he could tell something was up. He laughed when he saw me and then he asked how I was and I said (lyingly), “Fine.” That’s when he lost the grin and cocked his head at me. He didn’t say anything but when he left he looked back. I felt like I had troubled him, which troubled me. Later, the final time we found each other, I looked at him and said (before he could say anything really), “Again!” He was with another priest walking and he smiled and said, “Yes!” But then… as I walked by he turned and said to me behind the other man’s back, “Soon, Mark. Very soon,” and he smiled that huge grin and walked away. I almost stopped in my tracks. I don’t know why. What did he mean? This has been what I’ve thought about all afternoon now. The thing is, every time I think about those words and I see that round cheery face, balding head, gray beard, and ear to ear smile… I feel better. I think, “He’s right. Soon is right.” I still don’t know what “soon” is, but I know he’s right. That’s kind of all I need I guess.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still in a weird state… I’m still shaking my head when I type things (like this) and I’m still thinking about everything, but… in the back of my mind… I know one thing:

“Soon, Mark. Very soon.”

I am in… the strangest place right now. It’s only 1 but it has been a most strange morning. I can’t put my finger on it, but something has really thrown me off today.

Maybe it’s that I couldn’t sleep until 6 am after reading my friend’s blog which snapped me back to a time last semester when I couldn’t think straight.
Maybe it’s that I had the strangest night of intermittent stops and starts in my sleep, each occurring in the middle of strange and irregular dreams that I can’t even describe.
Maybe it’s that after all that I woke up early for class today, a class I never wake up early for.
Maybe it’s that immediately after I woke up I received a text from the last recognizable person in my final dream.
Maybe it’s that when I looked outside it was raining and I completely expected it.
Maybe it’s that as I walked to class the “rain” wasn’t sticking to me, but bouncing off my jacket and cap (almost a sleet, but not ice).
Maybe it’s that all through class I simply drank my pop and everything probably seemed normal to everyone, I joked some, I took notes, I got lost in the lecture, finally I left and ate lunch. All normal, but at the same time completely the opposite.
Maybe it’s that everywhere I walked I could feel people looking at me and almost being upset to see a “scowl” on my face. I could see their surprise and I wished I could tell them all, “It’s not a glare, my eyebrows are lowered because I’m thinking.”
Maybe it’s how I felt like I couldn’t tell them this, no matter how much I wanted to or tried. I felt almost trapped behind the expression on my face.
Maybe it’s how I could feel my heartbeat in all my extremities, and how my lips slowly became more noticeable to me as they become dried because I haven’t really closed my mouth all morning.
Maybe it’s how I glanced at the dining hall schedule on my way out of it and discovered I won’t have any food from Friday night until Monday afternoon. And I expected it.
Maybe it’s how when I made that simple glimpse at the chart the small Asian lady who swipes our cards spoke to me. She had been talking to someone else, who was between us, and the person left at the same time that I walked by and she leaned back in her chair and said to me (though she wasn’t looking at me at all), “I’m sorry, you’ll have to find something else to eat over the weekend, seeing as you’re staying over break. Maybe order something since you can’t cook in the dorm you’re in.”
Maybe it’s how I haven’t ever really talked with her before, much less ever mentioned to her that I was staying this weekend or which dorm I live in.
Maybe it’s how my eyes keep going out of focus when I’m really thinking about something hard.

On the other hand,
Maybe it’s just the paper I have due tomorrow that I can’t write.

So even after that lengthy and somewhat strange description of my morning and why I might feel how I do… I’m lost. I look at what I wrote and just kinda shake my head…none of it really makes sense to me. Hell saying it doesn’t make sense didn’t even make sense. It’s like there’s something inside me just itching to get out through my fingertips and use this keyboard to explain itself but I’m not doing a good enough job. And I know that because whatever it is that wants out is not happy with the job I’m doing. Causing me to scowl and think and shake my head when I don’t get it right yet again. When I read that it sounds very creepy. It’s not like a possession, don’t get me wrong. It’s more like… I know there’s something inside that I want to try to explain, and I am upset with myself that I can’t figure it out. I guess that’s a decent enough explanation because when I read that I finally didn’t shake my head in disgust, but rather shrugged as in “Well, I guess…”

So I guess this is kind of a plea. To no one really. Because I know that no one really reads this blog. But I obviously can’t figure it out on my own. Maybe… just maybe… if someone reads this and they get inspired… tell me. Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe.