Time to journal. I was going to write in my hand-written journal but I decided to log this one digitally. Not sure why.
What do I want? Right now I’m feeling emotional. Not sure why. Well. Lies. I actually know why. I just have problems expressing vulnerability. I like a girl. I desire her. I am attracted to her. Yet, I don’t know what that means. I’m usually so detached from those feelings. They occupy deep hidden places within me. I obey them from afar so when they get unwieldy I’m at a distance.
What do I want? Right now. What is it? Ok, more specifically: What do I want from a female? I realize I could subsist off of my own imaginings and writings and thoughts and dreams and studies and friends… but there always seems to be something missing. It leaves a dull ache, a dull emptiness. I know that no female will ever take it away, but I feel as if it could be allayed more than it is. Intimacy. Intimate encounters that last longer than physical climax. An intimate encounter that endures and subsists behind the daily happenings of life. Where I can seek comfort. Intimacy that persists long after those endless gazes. How is this intimacy achieved? Well. Great question. I’ve been struggling to figure this out myself. I achieve a great level of intimacy with a large number of my platonic relationships, but it eludes me when my heart is involved. Perhaps expectations ruin the momentum? I tried sex. Raw hot heavy sex. That didn’t work. When sex is achieved before an investment is made, why bother? Subconsciously I resist making that pledge. Maybe I lose respect? I can’t respect a girl when I already own her. Especially that easily. Make me care enough to work for it. Please?
Eh. I don’t know what to think. Relationships. These courting encounters. They’re fun. The masquerades. The lampooning. The dancing gestures. The intimations. All behavioral and empty.
Meaning is difficult for me. When I say things I mean, I feel them. Meaning and feeling seem inextricable. They are one in the same. How do I mean anything when I feel nothing? Words. Empty gaseous words. The effluvium of desire. Yearning pleasure. Sexual banter. Until the impulse subsides and I stare at a stranger.
What is it that I want? I want someone to want me. Nay. Need me. Right? Isn’t that what anyone wants? To feel irreplaceable? How to convey that without ripping your heart out? How to convey that without faking it? Jesus. I have no idea.
I almost feel bad for girls that are into me. As much as I long to shed and share all, I resist out of courtesy. I don’t want to overwhelm them with my complexities. My complicated spirit. My ornery soul. It overwhelms even me. Even I struggle to appreciate something so beautiful and so appalling.
I can be anything to anyone. These masks. People need consistency. How does one disarm their masks. Who is the true Michael? Intimacy, love, whatever you want to call it, it extends beyond these masks. It requires pulling down the veils that honesty hides behind. What lies behind is something beyond me. I like to think that my closest friends are familiar with this person. I appear in various fractals.
Honesty hides behind veils. It is always there in full view, only obscured by a veil.
Okay. So I lost my train of thought. Not too unusual. Tonight I’m hanging with some friends at a local microbrewery. I guess I’m going stag at this point. Amongst three other couples…awkward? Awkward is a state of mind. Nothing is awkward unless you think it so.
What to think… Saturday. Went to brunch.. worked out at the gym…. played raquetball… showered. I think I’m gonna grab Chipotle.
Beauty, like a dream, fades. Faith endures. It stipulates nothing. Intelligence wanes. Physicality and success, all seasons in time. They all play leads at one time or another, only to fade into the background. What is left? Love. Faith. I suppose a variety of virtues.
It’s so much easier to hide your heart. To keep it all for yourself. But the unequivocal joy of extending it to the other, and having them cherish and bask in its naked state? It lights you on fire. It is unbelievable to love and be loved.
I don’t think one can be in love without vulnerability. No. I know it. Be prepared to expose yourself. God. What a dilemma.
So. I’m at a point in my life where I desire substance, in people and relationships and tasks and goals. No more petty aspirations. No more temporary longings. Have some long term vision. Use imagination beyond the moment Michael.
I don’t have time for people that don’t have this. Confusion? Fickle? Flaky? I will have none of it. I might be around, but not for long. I will learn briefly and find someone else who’s pursuit is for the real. For the thick of it. For the substance that extends through space and time and is with you in all the oscillating experiences, the undulating sine waves of life, where it peaks and rockets toward the trough, only to crest again. I want substance through it all.