Doesn’t it just suck when you realise a week on that there were things you forgot to bring up that may have altered the consequences of the conversation in question?
Another mistake I have to live with. But one I have analysed, leading the way to a door full of possibilities.
Interesting. I shall keep working then.
I’m happy for you that you’ve found someone who does all this but supposedly better, but that doesn’t stop me being sad knowing we could have been and I dun goofed because I wasn’t enough.
At least we’re still close friends. I’m very happy about that bit, and I wouldn’t give it up just because of a misalignment regarding personal attachments.
(thanks sahan for the picture)
Being on a limited budget and maintaining a gigantic German car is a little silly, but I do it anyway because it is pretty much the proudest thing I have in my possession. I do find myself berated on a frequent basis for such a silly combination, but boo freaking hoo. I might have to be a little impoverished and limited in other areas of general monetary consumption, but when I don’t really care about clothes or alternative material spendings, I may as well split my money into my car and my secret date+holiday+travel+presents fund and leave a little left over for general living expenses.
I suppose if I’m happy with this arrangement then that’s all that matters. But I’ve also said in the past that there are more important things that I’d happily give up all my motoring enthusiasm in a heartbeat for. Until the day when I would consider doing that though, expect my income to be converted into fuel and modifications.
I’m extremely proud of my car.
My instincts have never once in my life failed me. I have a wonderful ability to notice things that nobody notices, predict things that will happen and determine outcomes of an event in question based on mere reflexes of those involved. What has consistently (and for the lack of a less impolite phrase) fucked me over in the ass over and over, on the other hand, has been timing. Somehow, despite the logical conclusion that these would go hand in hand (ie instinct to know when to do something) it seems to have never worked this way for yours truly. I may be incredible at spotting things, but I am horrible at reacting to them.
The biggest thing that has ever happened in my life came to an abrupt halt today when my instincts once again determined to be correct, complete with a horrible dose of poor timing. I saw it coming from weeks away and I braced myself for the impact that I knew was coming. Despite the best efforts to do so, disguising an incoming meteor is a difficult challenge many fail to get past me with.
It doesn’t take much for me to know something’s going on. I’ve become horribly good at that, in part due to the 16 years prior of having to develop such an ability to know just when my dad’s about to chuck a hissy fit an hour before it happens so I can brace myself in advance.
I’m not sure if it’s politeness or manipulation to disguise a negative inevitability within the shrouds of a neutral response with the possibility of a positive outcome. For the situation in question, and knowing the nature of the involved, I like to think it was politeness. After all, nobody wants to shoot down someone else’s heart and soul directly like that, and in this particular case, I know they wouldn’t do that anyway.
I appreciate forthcomingness and a direct, honest, straight to the point response. It is, to me, the only way to do something correctly and prevent unnecessary pain or conflict. What I dislike, however, is having to put my foot down and make it extremely clear I just want a bloody straight answer. This more times than not produces what would normally be a sugar-coated response into a direct, bone-cutting, negative response, and whilst it might hit you like a baseball bat to the male reproductive organs, I find that it also makes me react far more positively. If I have to find out through alternative means the reality of a scenario that was originally sugar-coated, I tend to get angry.
Preventing that is manadatory given that I come from a paternal side not famous for being patient. Exercising a constant mantra to remain patient, calm and positive is paramount if I am not going to alienate the very people I cherish for. Being patient, calm and positive results in positive outcomes with little to no conflict.
This theory proved itself correct today.
One of two outcomes could have resulted from the light of the situation that occurred today:
1/ I could get extremely angry, bring up every fault that has been made and devoted myself to ruining the lives of the people involved for being manipulative and cruel;
2/ I could remain patient and calm, discuss the faults of the situation in a democratic but direct manner, and negotiate a positive outcome that does not infringe on the foundations of the relationships between the subjects involved, but still maintain a nature of reprimandation for future reference to avoid a repetition of the errors incurred.
Because I chose to be nothing like my angry dad, I found that I achieved the second outcome, which is the good one. It is also the true one. The first outcome involves assumptions and angry determinations which do naught but ruin lives. This was not going to happen in my case.
Yes, today has been overall a sad day and the end of an era I had so determined to make last a lifetime. To deny disappointment would be lying to myself and everyone else. Yes, I am disappointed. I am sad. I feel like absolute crap knowing that poor timing and my fundamental flaws have once again managed to fuck me over in the ass.
But I am okay and I am also happy. I am happy that instead of losing everything I earned something in place of what I had, something of a different nature, something of a positive nature. It is not what I wanted, but it is what I have achieved and it is what I deserved. I’m content with this. It is something I never realised I wanted. Really, I am. It will continue to be the best thing I have in my life, even if it may never *become* my life, a conclusion I once vowed to achieve.
I have failed, but I’ve made something even bigger out of it. And I don’t care where this goes. Where it goes, it will go. And I’ll do my best to make the most of what I have instead.
We’re cool. This is merely closing a chapter of great and opening a chapter of bloody awesome, because now that I know exactly where I stand instead of desperately trying to blindly determine where I’m supposed to stand, I know how to make life awesome again.
I learnt a lot in the past three-quarters of a year. But I learnt the biggest thing today about myself. Thank you for everything. There is a reason why you’re my best friend, and I promise things will only be more awesome from now on.
In the last five weeks I’ve seen you less times outside of work than the number of fingers on my left hand.
I miss the old days when it was at least thrice a week, endless texting and skyping. Ugh…
I have a lot of free time as somebody living on welfare with pretty much nothing to do but run errands for a little bit of income and housekeeping for my future career as a part-time house-husband when I’m not being a full time Network Technician of McAwesomeville. Between the many inane things I get up to during the day I sit in front of my laptop (not the computer, because my computer seat is painful to sit on) and I research things.
Tonight I decided to research something that correlated to what I was thinking about at the time, something that I have had in my mind for a long time now. I typed in one word, a word that I had come to embrace and think about so frequently, a word I was curious to find out more about.
I stumbled upon a link that made me realise how silly I truly am.
I’m generally a comparatively robust person when it comes to things with big impacts. However, a quadruple-whammy of big impacts recently made me realise I was a little overconfident in myself, and in trying to adjust that, it seems I have become underconfident in myself, if that is even a word. I don’t care if it isn’t. I’ve lost confidence in my ability to be confident, thanks to certain actions I have taken as of late in response to situations I find myself in.
Finding myself mesmerised in the contents of this link, I was rudely interrupted by a rogue ad which had a redirect loop disabling my ability to read the actual contents of the link. So ten minutes later I had whipped up a GreaseMonkey script to disable this script because it seemed to defy the abilities of certain extensions that generally fix this problem. A little nerd-out in a quest to find realisation, would be a dramatic way to describe it. “Way too bothered” is a phrase I believe most people would employ instead. And probably rightfully so.
Back to the point, three pages into this link and I found myself whimpering at the mere thought of how much of an ass I’ve been lately. A realisation dawned upon me, a realisation of just how indescribably dumb I really am. (For crying out loud, you stupid text editor, I’m Australian, stop correcting me with a ‘z’ for ‘realisation’!) I may have broke down a little bit at the mere thought of the impacts it may have had on myself and the people involved.
Narcissism is a virtue many people intentionally or inadvertently revel in as a lifestyle, a personality, a choice. I have strived to be anything but, but I have frequently been told that sometimes it is healthy to be a little narcissistic. I think that it is also healthy to know when to stop, because when you don’t know when to stop, you may accidentally become too much about yourself and this consequently impacts the people who care a lot about you. I recently made that mistake, and I’ve spent a lot of time regretting it. It’ll be a little while longer before I determine just how much damage I’ve really done because of this.
(Ironically, this post is pretty narcissistic in itself.)
I had recently as part of my sudden bout of narcissism decided (stupidly) that I was a disposable resource, and subsequently I found myself extremely bummed about this. I like to be helpful, I like to be the best friend, I like to be there. I don’t know what got into me, but I think it’s been happening for a while now, but when a little fluctuation out of the assumed norm occurs I become desperately self-focused and try to restore what I assumed was an unintentional imbalance, a mistake on my part. I responded in a way I should never have done to these people. More than one person is, I believe, currently not on speaking terms with me as a result of this stupidity. One of these few people is extremely important to me. Some of these people may not be able to respond in the current situation, but their actions prior are wordless implications of their displeasure.
Reading this link made me realise just how much damage I may have caused because of my silly mindset, my endless quest to achieve something I blindly wanted so much I didn’t realise I was pushing myself further away from it by trying to be it. I realised that recent events were in fact, not of my doing, but a part of the nature of the people associated. This is not a detrimental description toward them; these natures in question were, rather, the very qualities of the people in question I had once cherished. Somehow I had gone from cherishing these to forgetting about these and focusing on making dumb assumptions instead, and I deserve every bit of frustration these people have expressed towards me. It was my fault for thinking it was my doing and I’m sorry.
I realised just how narcissistic I had become. Far more than what one would define as a ‘healthy level’. I was the type of person I despised.
I understand that this post seems a little dramatic, a little oversaturated with pronouns beginning with the letter ‘I’ and finishing with the letter ‘I’. I realise that this is a post I have done my best to make an anecdote out of rather than a factual recount. But this is a post I had to make. A post to remind myself that I need to go get myself fixed, I need to fix myself. I want to prove commencing this Friday that I deserve these people.
I have, most importantly, I have to fix the damage I’ve done and hope for the best that the people I love forgive me and understand I’m going to do my best to be the person they became friends with, rather than the black shell of a battle-worn tart who thinks way too much. I have to make sure I don’t further the damage I’ve done, because if I don’t go back to being the person I was maybe just two months ago, I’ve failed them, and I don’t deserve them as close associates.
This is nobody’s fault but mine, and for those people in question, I’m sorry.
Every now and then I see someone aimlessly wandering the streets on one of my much-too-regular drives to unnecessary places, like Auburn to pick up a badge or Campbelltown to deliver a receipt. Being the observant person that I am I start wondering where they’re off to, or if they even have a destination, or if they’re like me on one of my morning walks, just walking, trying to replace complicated thoughts with fresh air (and hopefully not being run over by a bus like when I was four.)
Sometimes I wonder if they’re simply projections of myself that I see in reality to remind me to deal with my own thing properly by actually facing it. Perhaps my tried-and-tested solution of simply assuming it’ll be just another phase that passes is not an appropriate way to deal with everything.
I’ll write a happier anecdote later, but I have a few things to sort out right now.
Her name’s Missy (thanks Loretta!), and she’s 8 weeks old. Special props to Michael Shen for taking her in for the next week and a half whilst we sort things out at home. I can’t wait to bring her home :)
Recently I have come to the realisation that I have a problem. It involves expecting too much over a reality that offers so little. To counter this potential spiral into problematic disorder, I have been digging up old things to either throw out or revisit.
So that’s exactly what I’m doing right now, at 3 in the morning, because I am unable to sleep.
I find that writing is therapeutic. When I have a mind full of worries and conflicts that I am unable to rectify or deal with, I tend to try find something to do. I could go for a drive, but I am a little too tired to drive. I could read, but I am too tired to read. I could watch Friends, but there is a time and a place for that. I am far too worried about a particular concern of mine to be able or willing to enjoy a couple of episodes of Friends.
No, I shall write. Writing is something I am good at, or at least, I feel I am good at. So I shall write. I don’t want to unnecessarily fork over money for a therapy session when I could just write and cheer up anyway (though truth be told, realistically I will have to pay for a therapy session anyway, because writing only does so much self-medicated therapy.) But that conversation is for another time, I still haven’t been to the doctor’s to get a referral.
Additionally, it’s not an issue I’m particularly concerned about at the moment, anyway. There are bigger issues at hand and I’m not going to get any better if they don’t get any better. I hope you’re okay.
I guess I recently realised I needed a medium to alter my thoughts and put them into a privacy-respecting, entertaining and reflective form, because bottling it all up was starting to take its toll. So I suppose this post marks a renewal in my writing habits; this is exactly what I’ll be doing with this blog. (Weblog, if you’re old-fashioned.) I apologise in advance if hereon I inadvertently come off as a little self-centered and narcissistic, but keep in mind this is at foremost (for the time being) a therapeutic medium to stop me going insane, and almost as importantly, I will do my best to turn that into humorous and/or captivating entertainment for any unfortunate soul to stumble across this page, lest my reader count remain stuck at ‘one’, which will really make me narcissistic.
Sunny eternal driving shotgun
Sunny NO OVERRIDES
Anthony god says no
Anthony stig says no
Sunny i say yes
Sunny therefore i win
Sunny because i’m the sun
Sunny KABOOM
Sunny apply cold water to burn area
Anthony because you are the sun….everything you say is invalid
Anthony you gotta be cool to be in a volvo
Sunny i am coool
Sunny i’m so much cooler than you
Sunny don’t you see it?
Sunny i’m the biggest hipster of them all
Sunny >IS THE SUN
Sunny >is super cool
Sunny THE IRONY IS OVERWHELMING
Sunny HIPSTER OVERLOAD
Sunny therefore i am cool
Sunny because hipster
Sunny etc
I’ll keep it short.
2013 is the year I stop pretending I’m awesome and the year I start dealing with my mess (but continue to be the best person I can be to the people I cherish most, because otherwise my efforts will be moot.)
Time to sort this shit out before I lose the people I care for most.
—
- Lemony Snicket (via alexcarlos)
My first impression of you was that you were a rather cute girl who seemed very nice to talk to and was also very sweet.
My first impression of you was indeed entirely wrong. You are a million times more amazing than just a rather cute girl who seemed very nice to talk to and was also very sweet. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.
(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via alexcarlos)
You.
You lousy beat-up quirky weird-looking car with your disproportionately high number of Scottish fans.
You were weak, but you tried and you tried hard when I needed you to move quickly. I could tell you were less than pleased at the pedal being against the metal, but you without hesitation (after a transmission delay) would drop a gear and tear time and space apart (slowly) revving up hard and clocking up the kilometres slightly faster.
You’re kinda broken, and you faint sometimes, because your fuel gauge is about as accurate as a drunk panda trying to predict the weather. Yet you march on anyway. You’re cranky as hell in the morning, but once you warm up you drive like a (slow) dream.
You’re basic, but you’re relaxing to drive. You’re simple, yet you’re flexible. You don’t care if you’re on motorway, fire trail, dirt or gravel, you power through anyway and never fail me. You’ve taken me on dates, holidays, road-trips, ice cream runs, you’ve shuttled friends covered in blood to the hospital, you’ve even once pulled a car out of some slippery grass. You’ve put up with all my kerfuffle and my nilly-willy without complaining once.
You’ve even had a drunk twat dance on your bonnet. The dents he left broke me. You’re like my child, damn it. No mother can watch their kid get beat up.
You look weird, but you’re proud of it. No other car looks like you, and nobody drives cars like you, so you’re unique on the roads, yet you manage to look modern rather than some antique. You were my first car, and I remember the moment I set my eyes on you for the first time I had fallen in love with you (fullhomo). I couldn’t wait to do my research on your history and go to the bank and get money out so I could bring you home. The four days it took for all this to happen were unbearable, I was itching to just hurry up and get you home.
I remember my first drive in you. Your steering was heavy, yet pleasant. Your throttle pedal was heavy but just right, I settled in immediately. Your side mirrors, they were small, but they did the job. I felt comfortable driving you, and I can attest to this by the fact I drove you for sixteen hours straight without getting a sore arse or arms.
Your suspension is crackers and you bounce for a kilometre when you drive over a grain of sand. You’ve spun out of control a few times because you like to oversteer, but otherwise you handled anything I threw at you excellently. You’ve got a crack in your posterior and your front bumper looks like a child painted it, but you’re so fine. You’re a worn car, you’ve endured so damn much, but most of you still work. You still start up before I’ve finished turning the key. You still feel like the day I met you, though thankfully you smell far better now. You’ve gotten me to uni in time so many times, you’ve rescued my friends, you’ve cheered me up, you’re damn basic but my gosh you made me so happy.
But it’s time to let you go. Like a child with a trunk full of toys who can talk and walk, its time to move on, grow up, and give you away to someone more deserving of you. I know you know this and I know you’re sad, just like the toys were, and you’ll go through some rough times getting to deal with it. I can feel that when I drive you on these final days and it absolutely breaks my heart and I am full of guilt. You and me both, my dear friend, you and me both are shattered. You don’t know how much I want to just keep you, but you and I both know I can’t do that (financially and space-wise). I need to make room for new adventures, a new grown up life. I’ve grown up. I’ve developed new ambitions.
I’m so, so sorry. I’ll miss you horribly. I’ll miss you chugging when you realise you’re almost dry, I’ll miss your bounciness, your wonderful ambience, the absolute joy of sitting behind your steering wheel and laughing at the fact I can’t actually go very fast but I’m still moving very fast towards places I want to go. I’ll never forget all the adventures we had together, all the things we’ve done, all the roads we’ve traversed, all the shops we’ve been to, those times when I’ve gotten so angry at you, and those times I’ve missed you horribly while you were being borrowed or when I was on holidays. The people we’ve shuttled around, the arguments that have been had in the car, the songs that have been sung, the feeble attempts to improve your simpleness. Everything we’ve done, I’ll never forget.
Thank you, especially though, for being the car who helped me discover the girl of my dreams.
The new car, he’s a classy monster of a machine. He’s great and an absolute joy to drive, and I love him too, but he’ll never replace you. Nothing will never replace you. I could never find a mod appropriate for you, you were a boring unmoddable car, but you were a great car, and you were my first car. But I have to move on. Like I said, it’s time to grow up. It’s a hard decision, but I had to make it.
Please don’t cry as I am, you’re going to a good home now. You’re going to someone who will love driving you as much as I did. Perhaps you’ll once again be a first car for someone else. You are an absolutely wonderful first car and I know you’ll make someone else as happy as you made me.
…who am I kidding, you’re going to the scrappers. Have a great retirement. You deserve it now.
Farewell, my sweet friend. It’s been an absolute honour.
