confusion cocktail with muddled stupor and a twist of apathy, shaken not stirred.

first off let me preface this upcoming blog with a personal statement....a forewarning, if you will: i do not proclaim to be writing some prolific insights into life and all of its wonderings in this rant (nor is it the case for any of my other various blabberings-on) so if you choose to continue reading, please understand that this entry is, more or less, the blusterings of a tired eccentric whose goal in this writing is to be completely self-indulgent in my thoughts via blogging in order to not actually act out self-indulgently. if you are at all intrigued, or are perhaps experiencing the frustration and borderline insanity (sometimes self-induced, i concede) due to the idiotic powers that be in the ever-so-eventful and popular realm of love, then by all means, you are more than welcome to continue on with me in my journey to the surreal where logic is not necessary and overanalytical skills are an absolute must. we will be turning on the "fasten seatbelt" signs soon so please make sure to have all baggage safely stored in an overhead bin or beneath the seat in front of you.....or more aptly for my purpose of this blog, please open all baggage and allow for it to spew all over you and those around you. please and thank you. enjoy your flight.

right, so here we go. lately, wait...who are we kidding, for years now the most established theme of my thoughts has been love--finding love, falling in love, losing love, looking for love, etc. it has been the staple of my mind--the standard upon which all else has been built and balanced. it has been the rice to my sushi, the rain to my seattle, the angry to my german. yes, it is ultimately safe to say that out of all of the things i could choose to base my life upon, love and all its various tangents is what i have picked. this single decision has brought me an abundance of joy--seeing how happy my little cousin is when she sees that i've made the effort to drive to where she is just to see her or seeing my little six-week-old nephew's eyes light up when he recognizes who i am and loves me with no boundaries or just the simple act of seeing a stranger get a little extra pep in their step after giving them an unassuming smile. those are all things that bring a little extra fizz in my life soda (it's the newest flavor and it is to die for...i think it's a coke product).

that being said (and firmly appreciated), i must divulge the other side of love....the darker side....the side that is probably more fit to be working the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair wearing a members only jacket and desperately needing dental insurance to fix the loss of teeth i'm assuming it incurred during the war (that's what i'm blaming any loss or personal shortcoming on these days) rather than in an overly cheesed out movie staring amy adams in yet another princess-ish role and prince charming sporting a mystic tan and brighter teeth than any human should be allowed to have (i'd rather keep my retinas on a functioning level, thanks). you guys know what i'm talking about...that part of love that, i believe, is far more heavily encountered than the kind where you slide down a glittery rainbow only to land on a shiny new magic flying carpet (with cruise control and a sun-roof) that drops you off at the top of the eiffel tower during fireworks where you finally get that passionate first kiss you've been dreaming of whilst twirling your ringlets around your finger. yes, i'm talking about....dare i say it.....the realistic side of love. that portion where rejection is actually an option and where you don't always wake up with perfectly coifed hair and a date to the sock-hop on friday. yes, in this scenario...you might actually experience a little teensy (or mind-numbingly painful) bit of heartbreak. of course that fun is generally preceded by the ever-so-popular anxiety induced craze wherein you become a different person who should be locked up in a white, padded room and given a couple of happy pills to dumb you down for about a month or at least until you lose those spiraling pupils where your eyes should be and the twitching subsides.

i'll say it, i've been there lately...in that purgatory that lies somewhere between absolutely knowing that you want to be with this person and he/she wants to be with you and the other end of the spectrum, which is to say not knowing anything or anyone other than that you are probably still on planet earth, but even that's a toss-up. so it's a tad bit ambiguous, but oddly enough it's quite easy to pinball back and forth between complete and utter resolute knowledge that "yes, this is meant to be!" and "oh my gosh....what am i doing....it's never going to happen and i'm just throwing myself into something that is sure to turn out to be a train going 100mph." in fact, it's more difficult not to reverberate back and forth between the two sides like a tennis game between venus and serena than it is to even stay in a happy medium...there's not much resting on the net before you get hurled back to one side or the other and ready to be hit again like ike turner after a shopping spree at the liquor store. i've been playing this game for a bit and it seems like i just can't win....i keep ending up at deuces, and that's if i'm lucky.

i've been considering this guy for a bit, and i feel as though he's someone that i could actually really be with. i have actually envisioned the whole white picket fence, cookouts, family vacays, soccer games with the kids...yeah, that whole super-d-duper storyline and plot where every time i smile a little star appears on my teeth with a chipper "ding" sound effect to add poignancy to just how perfect life is. that's not to say that i don't recognize flaws, because being the....how should i say.....well, i'm not mrs. cleaver here so yeah, i recognize flaws daily and i generally make a good game of sarcastic rhetoric out of those flaws, but i do feel like this guy is someone who, flaws and all, i'd be happy with. on the other hand, some of those flaws scare me a bit, but not to the point of wanting to run the other way...and so i think that's still in the green light category (i try to stay out of the red light district so as to avoid VD's and drive-by's). but regardless of the fact that i feel safe when i'm with this guy....let's call him frederick (no real relation there...i just like saying that name and also it always brings to mind a tiny brown mouse wearing a sweater-vest and a bowtie with a pair of brown saddle shoes...and really, who doesn't like that image?), i can't seem to fully settle into the idea. frederick knows me well...the good, the bad, and the not as pretty as i normally am...he knows my fiery temper, my strongly opinionated views, my sarcastic wit (be it good or bad)...and he also knows my loyalty, my love, my devotion, my artsy side....he really has a better grasp on who i am than most people. i miss him when he's not with me even if it's only been an hour that we've been apart.

i thought everything was going swimmingly and then, in typical fashion, i got blindsided and hit in the face with a balloon filled with rotten yogurt and tuna fish from the day before falling from the 40th floor of the building above me. splat! right on my freshly-blushed cheeks....nasty ooze just running down the front of me while the sting resonates on my skin from the brick-like balloon popping on my pucker-ready lips. that kind of stench stays with you for a bit, my friends. and i hate it that just when i'm sure that frederick was the one that dropped that disgusting little make-shift bomb, he comes down to help me clean the putrid mess and to make sure i'm back to glitz. that's what really throws the ping-ponging into overdrive. now i can't stop thinking "he likes me, yes he definitely likes me....oh wait....does he like me? he said that in an odd tone...oh no...he hates me...he probably wishes i would just fade away....oh wait! i got a text from him....aww...how sweet....he definitely likes me." and so the story goes. it becomes this inner battle with yourself that induces this paradoxical turmoil as though someone just poured boiling honey right onto your tongue....it's painful, but sweet. i'm at that point where one minute my heart feels so heavy that if i were to get one more tiny jolt, it would just plummet to the ground and shatter like glass on pavement and then the next it feels like my steps have become effortless because all of the sudden i'm floating away on a cloud watching all the people beneath me living their mundane lives while i'm seeing the greatest sights and feeling the highest highs a soul can reach. such contradictory emotions to be felt almost simultaneously. how curious.

why can't people just say what they mean to say when they mean to say it and then stick to their guns?? stop being wishy-washy and just do it! if you like me, then like me....throw caution to the wind and grab a hold of me and don't let go! and if you don't like me, then first off, i'm sorry for you you poor bastard b/c, if i'm being honest, i'm awesome....and secondly, just grow a set and be a man...clear the air and move on. no worries, no apologies needed. claim who you are and then activate it! loving someone is like holding a million dollar check in your hands....just having it does little to no good unless you're going to do something about it. if you don't bank on those things, you'll lose them, guaranteed. i'm worth more than being cast as an understudy for your lead role position. but in the end, if you don't get that about me on your own, i don't want to have to explain it to you because if i did, you still would never fully get it. i'm like gustav klimt's "the kiss"....you either get and appreciate the love and the passion there for yourself...or you don't. it doesn't matter how much the rest of the world revels or reviles the piece, your view will always be exactly what it is because if you were to change it to appease someone else, the authenticity would be lost and you'd become one of those hipsters who dye their hair dark and wear skinny jeans and get pointless tattoos just for the sake of having tattoos....it might be who they think they are at 19, but by the time they're 40 they've grown out of that stage and into their own self and their own thoughts. i want you to appreciate who i am always for who i am....the pretty and the not, the passionate and the harsh, the soft and the bold...and i want you to genuinely feel that for yourself, not just to appease me because i only accept authentic originals.....no façade-wearing photocopies, please. cheap ink fades in time to reveal the blank sheet of paper underneath.....so paint yourself on canvas and make it last. want me always, or have me never...love me as i am, or watch me as i go.