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Hedgistar
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Name: TJ
Country: United States
State: New York
Birthday: 11/12/1982
Gender: Male
Interests: reading, writing, watching those cool operation shows on TLC, acting like a dofus, sleeping, gaming, butchering my English, listening from music at garageband.com and retarded acts of buffonery.
Expertise: The 4 B's: Biology, Being Bored, and Bullshit
Occupation: Student
Industry: Research
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/20/2002
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| September 5th would have been our fourth... and it's bothering me that I'm thinking about that so much.
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| I nearly died today.
It was on the LIE, with my junk POS with crappy seat belts...and the
brakes of my car gave way. The Navigator slowed in front of me and my
foot hit the floor, and the car kept moving. And moving...
I'm alive obviously. And very thankful. I was able to react in a timely
and calm manner, remembered about pumping brakes in a non-ABS car and
probably have nailed what was at fault by the time I pulled into the
parking lot behind my building.
Maybe there is a God. Or a Good
God. Or...the fates and Lady Luck decreeded that my time wasn't then
and my place wasn't there. Now in some cars, its survivable. I will
tell you now; with mine I'd have slammed headlong into the glass, body
crushed against the wheel and feet smahed between a seat and the
firewall seperating the passenger cabin from the engine.
It has got me thinking about mortality and the role I've played so far
on what Shakesphere called a "stage." And right now, what happened has
lit a huge bonfire under my ass; telling me to take the role I know I
have to play...instead of waiting for it to come in some silver
platter.
-Ted
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| “The road to hell is paved with good intentions…”
Everything in
life I realized long ago is a lesson. And as I look back to the tragic
(though some could also say in a different light, laughable) drama that
occurred early in this last week, I learned quite a few myself. Though
it remains to be seen if the price bought for this knowledge is worth
the cost of severing contact with someone I wished to be a friend with.
I hoping it wasn’t. But we’ll see…
Long story short, the events
unfolding that has lead me to write this missive results from me being
honest to a fault in an attempt to explain my actions, which came off
as hurtful when it wasn’t intended, “spiteful” when it wasn’t, and
vindictive when that wasn’t my goal. This situation finally
deteriorated to a point where the bridge that crosses the chasm between
me and her is now closed. I was accused by this person of being
“spiteful.” And it took me a full day and talking with good, honest
friends to set me straight on the matter from my end: my intentions
weren’t spiteful at all, though my actions looked like it.
Those
with a more intimate knowledge of what happened ask: “Why the hell did
you say it that way?” It stems from two reasons. The first was simple:
I had thought nothing of the repercussions of my words (more on that
later) and I was just explaining myself. I give reasons as to why I
apologize; I don’t if there isn’t reason to. And that’s what I was
doing. In the history of knowing this person, I’ve seen this person
become exasperated when no one gave her the full picture – this is the
second reason. So I’ve been faithfully honest with this person and
wanted to clue her in. Now, I’m not saying I did this for her, but I
acknowledged that facet of her personality and respected it enough to
say those damnable words we talked on AIM about. Damnable words, I
write now, because disregarding another part of this person’s
personality it all backfired on me and slammed a person who didn’t
deserve it.
---
I’ll explain what I’ve learned about myself through this entire fracas.
-- I
value honesty in friends and friends who value it -- I’m a man of a
smattering of acquaintances but very good, loyal friends. They’re
diverse but a common feature all my good friends have is the fact that
they are honest, and brutally so, towards me and myself towards them.
In fact, I tend to demand it. Sure, some words can be said that hurts
my feelings, but I know myself enough that I need to be shocked
sometimes in order for something to be brought to my attention. It also
keeps me in check and keeps my friends in check. In the course of my
life I’ve benefited from people with good moral backgrounds, and their
rough honesty has helped me think and do things I normally wouldn’t
have thought of as well as keeping me on the “high road.” And for my
friends, it’s vice versa. I look after them; even if it’s “tough love.”
--
I
stick my foot in my mouth too often with those I wish to be friends
with -- This relates to what I said before. I’ve been called
“tactless.”
And the person who said this to me is correct…in that what I *said* can
easily been seen as spiteful though the intent wasn't. Now I
normally have a sense of decorum and understanding with the
connotations of what I say in the workplace, or in an interview, or
some other “professional” environment but I’m different with friends.
My group of friends, though my existence and though they might change,
have never wavered in their ability to tell me “straight” in what they
see and think ready to defend and talk about their points. I like to
think (and hope this is true) that I’m the same in return. And I’ve
grown so accustomed to such treatment that I extended it to those I
wish to be friends with, with disastrous results. I think a person can
handle it when she/he cannot and I learn only later.
The other
problem is that even if whatever my intentions are so good and great
and laudable, my choice of words tends to shoot me down as well. I
fumble, spit out something I shouldn’t, or otherwise hammer something
too close to home. I want to get to the damned point and I can and have
tore through someone’s sense of self getting there, with an attitude of
“feelings be damned” so we can resolve things timelier. Now this isn’t
an excuse at all for my actions, no. This is an acknowledgement of it,
and something I have to be more careful about.
-- I’m still hard
to read -- My best friend told me it took him two years of being my
roommate to understand my thoughts, motivations, and actions “75% of
the time.” That’s rather shocking for me, since I try to remain open to
all who come to me. Then again, I realize that no one I know fully can
read me fully. I can’t say why that’s the case but it’s a fact which,
ironically, also applies to myself. For all my explanation of my
actions and motivations with others it seems those words get lost, and
sometimes the singular act is focused on more than the bevy of
contradicting actions before it. I’m impulsive and don’t like to
express my feelings often with others, so my actions and true intent
gets blurred with this “front.” Life is a series of lessons; it is just
now that I realize it is a lesson about one’s self as well.
-----
Through
my discussions with those around me I’ve been told without exception
that this assertion of calling me “spiteful” was wrong and I should
have dismissed it. It struck me deep and though I’ve been told not to
dwell upon it, I stubbornly have. I have never been as angry as I have
been prior to that day. The fact I came close to tearing my room apart
and had to quell some of my more violent and seldom seen tendencies
means something. She struck home. Now I’ll explain, from my POV, why.
Firstly,
I gave her voice more weight than it should have. Her words, her mind,
and her opinions mattered to me. It was still seated deep within me to
give her piece of mind full consideration. And so those words dug
painfully into me, pressed by the weight of my prior relationship with
this person.
Islam has five pillars supporting it (maybe six if
you count jihad). I have a set of “pillars” and this accusation of
being “spiteful,” was like a slap in the face to my core being. I have
lived my life trying to forgive and being conciliatory, drawing a line
that I know few people can cross. I was accused of something I
vehemently don’t wish myself to be. Being spiteful to me was accusing
of being vengeful, base, evil, and downright immoral. Everything I
stand against I was being told I was. So I became a rolling ball of
seething anger because of it.
It should have crossed your mind
at some point to wonder why Ted is writing this thing. Firstly, this is
my concentrated, thought-out, and final thoughts on the matter, and
what I write says truer about myself than what I say or when I talk on
AIM. This, in a small part is directed to my friends as to explain some
of my actions, especially on my anger.
But
mostly…this is for
someone for whom I wish to open a window for, one into me and my
viewpoint. Maybe this person will understand my side of things (and
hopefully I understand fully hers) and someday, that chasm between us
will be bridged again. Or this is the end of something, and I’d like
for her to glean this last bit about me as the pages of our lives flip
over to a new chapter. But either way, this isn’t an excuse for my
actions, or a supplication of forgiveness. I wanted to give insight,
reasons, my POV, and what I've learned about myself from it.
Lastly.
I wish everyone who is graduating this year, in 2005, congratulations
for passing this milestone. May your pursuit of life, love, and
happiness be a good and bountiful one.
-Ted
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| <rant>
A friend of mine a few days ago was explaining the storyteller's
burden, the weight a tale-maker feels either to tell or not too. I
guess, paradoxically in this, "my public personal space" I feel like I
should, again, let myself open the doors and let you step into my
mind...to see if what's really going on in Ted's mind truly is vacuous
or worthy of deep thought.
I'm tired of telling people what just happens in the normal day-to-day
like I'm suppposed to give people a play-by-play update on my fucking
life. I met this person, went there, did that. Looking from high above
it looks all the same. No. This time, this attempt at a xanga will not
be based wholely on what just happened or who did this or what it did.
Fuck that. This time around, I'll plug in whatever thoughts have went
through my head resultant from my daily experiances. Coalesced,
concentrated bitching. The time is now.
THIS GAME CALLED LIFE:
Conversations and my own musings have made me realized I looked on Life as this:
If you don't know what that is, it's the game of Life. You get from
point A to B, the end of high school onwards to retirement, and you
progress through a chosen path to some end goal. And it's a damn
competition where in the end, someone suceeds and someone fails. You
win, or you're one of the losers. And this is how I tended to view
things. A fucking progression of steps I believed was right for
me...well...becuase I didn't think any of it. Roll the dice, see what
happens. Let Fate decide. Move on to the next step. Don't get
surpassed, be the winner, don't fail. That was the perception of Life
for me in a nutshell.
Always going somewhere...or worse getting away from something. It's a
shitty life I realize, where the forces of your progression aren't even
your own. And I'm realizing why I'm seeing things this way or decided
to silently allow this to happen: I was afriad of the world beyond
those comfortable borders and those nicely deliniated white lines.
Suddenly, something I'll admit now was a crutch was swept from under me
and I fell over, nearly broken. Freefall, someone called it. It's damn
scary...and all I wanted to do in life was to curl in a ball, run to
some corner, and hide. I've stopped being a Man.
On many levels I think I've hit rockbottom. I don't let people know (by
the time they read this they do) becuase I prefer to keep these things
to myself. I allowed others needs to surpass my own. I'm not trying to
be an ass or a prick here. But it's the truth. Lean too much and you're
bound to fall on your ass, I'm realizing. Let inertia control your life
and you won't be anywhere you wish to truly be. So the emphasis for
now, I believe, is to go alone and on my own. Scary road, I'm
realizing....but if I don't face it head on I won't ever be happy with
who I turn to be.
Fuck this game of Life with it's expectations on me and my fear of
failure. I'll carve my own path and if I screw up, then so be it. I've
let things slip too far by being indifferent and fearful for my own's
sake. Like this Xanga, I think it's time to change a new leaf.
</rant>
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| Gud luk on phinals evryone! Beter luk than my speling wright now! =p | | |
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