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mood |
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 complacent |
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music |
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The Carpenters "Hurting Each Other" |
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Hey there, it's really been awhile since I've written everything out...no marathon entries in a long time. Now that may be a good thing for you, but for me I feel all pent up and not motivated and not completely on open terms with myself. So much has been going on, and I've hardly had the incentive to even begin to figure it all out. I've just let myself drift feather-from-Forrest-Gump-style from one mild summer day to the next. All in all, I think it's pretty typical post-high school listlessness. Post-school listlessness and normality. I forget that I go through this like...every summer. Like reading old deadjournal entries from last summer, I realize I almost called myself depressed because of how lethargic and bored I was. What's strange is I actually look back on those days as blissful, bouncy days where I believed "everything was possible!". See, that's weird, that says something to me...like maybe I look back on things in a way-too-rose-colored light... at the time last summer, I probably didn't think I was having the time of my life (besides when I met Liz Phair). Anyway, the summer after senior year is just dwindling away like my graduation money, and I hope I can appreciate these last few months as a Lemont-ster before I'm thrown to the real world or colelge or an even more unreal world or wherever. I hope I can live in the moment and still appreciate. You'd be surprised at the amount of time I subconsciously think "shit, I USED to have it all..." What the fuck am I thinking? Well, here's what I should be thinking: I should be counting my blessings and constantly understanding why my life is so blessed and so beautiful to explore and communicate about. I will so count my blessings.
And oh they are many. I have learned honesty and self-expression and learned how to keep evolving through them both. I've got people who are more than willing to be honest back to me... Rachel's no-bullshit conversations at Starbucks and her consummate support and her way of being able to be light-hearted with me about the stupid aspects of ridiculous teenage living, her sense of humor that's fresh and exciting and delivered in the same "damn, we're ALL crazy" style as my sense of humor. There's Corey, who I need to hang out with more, who is obviously in love with life and excited to learn and accept himself and others. There's Elyse, completely unique and impeccably Conan-esque, there's Monica, who makes reality apparent at all costs, there's Mike Farnham, who's giddy about new possibilities and resilient in his trek towards being the best he can be, there's Erin and Kimmie and Eric and Mike Sherry and Tiffany and Sarah and Katie and Kaylin and Amanda and Feej and Kinga and anyone else who I can be myself with. And in case I haven't expressed it enough, my family is also the best there is... I've got a wonderful, admittedly crazy mother who's all for seeing me feel the best I can, my dad who's not so much a communicator but a sarcastic breath of fresh air, my brother Jim, whose intensity and intelligence are both reassuring, my brother Mark, someone who can genuinely sort out what's stupid or funny about the world and can laugh at it like a true Virtel, my brother Greg, whose uninhibited moments of laughter are picked up by NASA satellite.
I think I also underestimate how, even if I can't fix all my problems and doing something artistic and prove to myself I'm still a damn poet, even if I can't just fill a void in myself that I think is only for old closure, even if I can't put the world in total, easy perspective the way I want to, things can still be great. I can still grow up just fine, I can still be LOUIS and fucking love it. Do you know how much I love being Louis? I love being myself and tapping into qualities of what makes us all connected. Love being able to buckle down and forget all unnecessary frustration and depressing aspects of life and remember the essence of life. Remember why Madonna is so powerful, why Gilda Radner is so funny, why Mrs. Saulys was such a great teacher, why Aimee Mann's outlook and Alanis Morissette's earnest lyrics make me feel so good. The best thing I must remember is that the hard times of the past don't have to be moments I try to forget...they can be times where I look back and realize that I still have a lot to learn and that that's okay...I can realize those times had to happen...because if life's not going to stretch me to the limit, then why live it? Some memories are great, some are bad, some are bittersweet...and that's the way it should be. All in all, those things form well-roundedess and a realistic mindset.
I wake up sometimes not sure what to look forward to. I played Trivial Pursuit with some compadres after a week of looking forward to it: it was worth it. Everyone that played was hilarious and not as good at Trivial Pursuit as I was (take THAT, Amanda)...haha, and of course, humor is key in my analysis of myself and analysis of whatever else I run into. Let's see... I look forward to finding perfect forums where I can continue coming to terms with myself. I sure look forward to college and realizing that a change of scene brings about more connectedness as opposed to more isolation. I can't fucking wait for my family reunion in Colorado where I can finally hang again with Mike, Drew, and Caroline and probably play enough miniature golf to even make Corey Krengiel say "I want to stop miniature golfing now." I look forward to getting a job and learnin' me the value of a dollar. Might be eating those words soon. Oh well, it will be funny.
I appreciate being able to be by myself and just look up and say, "I am fine, and I pray for those who aren't." Hmmm, I love being able to be dorky with whoever I please and jamming to brun cds in the summer mornings while chowing down Fruit Loops or anything else that's completely healthy for me. For the record, I beat Mario Bros 3 straight through without warping yesterday and today...and fuck, it really isn't that hard! Mario 2 owns my heart forever, I must say. Maybe I just really like being the Princess and throwing turnips at trippy, bouncing elephant moles. That's sick and probably sexual.
Speaking of those last two adjectives, I royally fucked up a couple nights ago by letting my impulses get the best of me. A should-be-former acquaintance invited me to his house to watch "porn" (bullshit, he knew what he wanted) and I obliged and snuck over to his house late one night (that's right, SNUCK out, something I've never done in my life) only to have him flag me down at his house, sit in the passenger side of my car and offer me oral sex. The actual "sexual" aspects of this...relationship that's inconceivably evolved for nearly three years have never interested me as much as the idea that, in secret, I could have this person want me...that this person was secretly un-straight and know he'd never refuse the opportunity to act on his impulses towards me. It's like taking blackmail money...being rewarded "under the table" by him because I've got some sort of dirt on the other party. There's a point when it's just creepy though, as I realized that night when, after oh two seconds of a blowjob, I was absolutely disgusted by what was happening. I made up an excuse for having to leave (not before he made me perform on him for a second...least cool thing I've done all year, let me tell you....eeew, this is the kind of thing that traumatizes, for real). I went home at like 1 AM, went online, and just vented about my twenty minutes of grossness to Eric, Mike Sherry, and Kimmie. If I haven't reinforced how much I love Eric Forst, then let me say, he's the coolest. Sure he's a bitch, but that's what puppies are, you know? Mike Sherry just laughed at me, then we chatted for a long time about what's cool about relationships...that kid doesn't even know how great he is yet...and with Kimmie we chatted about secretive behavior and we commiserated in our usual TCBY-tastic way. Love having these people around. I love these people. Breaths of fresh air come at me from all directions with these cats around, and I can't stop taking that in. High fives for all of you are in order.
Alright, besides that episode of The Young and the Fucked Up that I explained to you, I'm feeling splendid. Tomorrow is National Mike Farnham day, and I'm going to hang with him at his house. Again, possibilities are endless, so raise up (just like Petey Pablo). Mark needs his room, it's fucken late, so express yourselves, don't repress yourselves, live, learn, love, and kcik some metaphorical ass. Or just real ass. Be like Uma, dammit. Alright, I'm out, and guess what, kids, when you don't know what to say because things are so blah and you don't have the effort to figure shit out anymore, don't worry...I hear you loud and fucken clear.
Love you with everything I know,
Louis.
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