:: Oh, Look, A Tumbleweed ::

:: Saturday, November 01, 2003 ::

"My brain is built of paths and slides and ladders and lasers and I have invited all of you to enter its pavilion. My brain, as you enter, will smell of tangerines and brand-new running shoes."
-Douglas Coupland, Microserfs

I want to write like this.

I've got so many thoughts running through my head right now that I need to write them down, but can't word them. I hate it when that happens, because it happens so frequently to me. Of course, the last time it happened, I wrote a "book" in exactly nine days. I want this book published. I really do. I think it's good...but then again, I'm the one who wrote it. But really, whenever I've tried to write other "books"...and I did write three...I've always thought they sucked. But I really think this one is good. I did some things to challenge myself, such as removing a lot of names. Only three of the characters in the book actually have names, and the main character is not one of them. Then...I can't describe it. I like it. I twisted the ending as much as possible to make it work but not make it obvious. I want debates over my ending. I want people to be convinced that one thing happened when another group of people believe another one happened. Hell, I don't even know myself what happened.

Thoughts. All of it. I find myself deep in thought every so often. Perhaps this is why I'm so quiet. I just think that so much of my life is contained inside my head and everything is processed through there and if I was to lose that ability, I would die. I'm being really vague, but bear with me.

I do not release my emotions. I bottle them. I keep them hidden. My friends have never seen me cry or scream. It's never happened. Chances are, it won't happen. I can never truly express what I'm feeling. If I'm feeling resentment, I'll never be able to show that. Anger? I can never be mean to somebody to their face. Somebody could insult me as much as they wanted and I would never be able to insult them back. How I've truly felt towards some of my friends...the two people I told about my true feelings about them...I really wasn't going to. I couldn't do it but they both were so...I don't know...they probably know who they are, so I can be as vague as I want. To have them both just open up to me like they did meant so much.

I told Liz tonight that I was laughing over the fact that so many people this year have decided that I am trustworthy enough to be told things that people do not want to tell their friends. I know things about each of my friends that no one else knows, and, for all I know, no one else will ever know. And I've done the same. There are four people I would trust with my life if it came down to it. And I thank them for that. Hopefully you know if you are one of those people.

The laughing thing was just because I don't know what I did to be so outwardly trustworthy. But it must have been something good. And I like that. I've told things to people that I've wanted to beat myself up over. I've told things to people that have somehow helped me, and, in the process, kind of help them.

What I think I'm trying to say here is, well...I'm not sure. Most of this post was very stream of consciousness. I don't remember most of what I just wrote. I'm going to post it now.

Except...to two people whom I've bonded with more than anyone this year. It's been crazy, and I wish I could write both of you these long letters about how I value your friendship but I'm tired and don't have the energy, so a quick paragraph will have to do. I think/hope both of you will know who you are and which is yours-

To the first person, I'm so lucky to have met you and gotten to know you so much better this year. Looking back, I can't help but laugh at how foolish I was...you were...everybody was. The point I'm trying to make is how closer I think we are because of this...and how nice it is to truly be friends without that black cloud always hanging above us. You are one of my closest friends and I value that. You have this way of making me laugh and feel comfortable. Thank you for that. There have been times in our friendship where we both wanted to use various kitchen appliances to end it all at that moment. Thankfully, we didn't and hopefully you will be one of the people I still know on my deathbed.

To the second person, I've been more open with you than anybody. And it's nice to get those feelings out. Like I said before, I tend to keep everything bottled in, but I've told you almost everything about me, and, in return, you've done the same (Or, actually, in this case, it's probably in reverse order). We may do the same thing over and over, but I can honestly say that it never gets old. Sometimes it's nice to sit and just talk. I'm glad the awkwardness that used to be between us is no more. That always bothered me and I'm glad it's gone. Thanks for trusting me and thanks for...well...at this moment, thanks for everything. That sounds almost cliched but I really can't think of another way to describe it. Just...thanks. I hope I don't screw something up. That would suck.

:: Nick Saturday, November 01, 2003 [+] ::