It hasn’t been sunny in a long while in Vancouver, and I spent most of the day wishing I were somewhere on the beach or sitting out by Coal Harbour.
I remember, last summer, after I broke up with Sanjay, that I used to partake in something called “masturdating” – A.K.A. doing date-like things, but without a date (alas, I am always rather amused by the linguistic combinations that we humans come up with). I used to go out to New West and Lynn Canyon and remote places on campus and small coffee shops and out to the shorelines of Vancouver, and I would find myself a seat, and I would sit down, and I would think.
What I thought about was never predetermined, although since I had just broken up with someone, most of my thoughts orbited around that occurrence. But I thought about other things too, like existence and happiness and all that smooth jazz.
As you may have noticed, I’ve recently been forcing myself to write a lot more than I did since the start of the term (albeit less than last term, but whatever) because I have a hunch that writing actually makes me feel a lot happier than I am when I’m around people. Part of it may be because I don’t believe anybody reads my blog posts and therefore, I feel like I’m talking to a void that just sucks up my words (which believe me, is not a bad thing at all), but I also think that I’m able to somewhat have a voice on here that I wouldn’t otherwise have when talking to any given person, because most of the people I interact with now are from my school club and I don’t really trust anybody there anymore. Moreover, I feel like I’m censored so much that I’ve altered the way I think – namely, that I don’t spend as much time thinking so much as I spend time doing. And I hate that. I hate not being able to have opinions and think about things, I feel like I’m suffocating.
That’s depressing. Let’s talk about something else.
In my English class, we’re reading Foer’s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and I keep thinking about a couple things:
- A passage on pg. 33:
I thought about life, about my life, the embarrassments, the little coincidences, the shadows of alarm clocks on bedside tables. I thought about my small victories and everything I’d seen destroyed, I’d swum through mink coats on my parents’ bed while they hosted downstairs, I’d lost the only person I could have spent my life with…I’d experienced joy, but not nearly enough, could there be enough? The end of suffering does not justify the suffering, and so there is no end to suffering, what a mess I am, I thought, what a fool, how foolish and narrow, how worthless, how pinched and pathetic, how helpless.
- Foer’s use of a child as a narrator, which I’ve only seen in Huckleberry Finn and Catcher in the Rye
- Oskar’s “heavy boots” metaphor for depression
I am particular drawn to the above three things in particular because I feel myself falling into a state of… uncertainty? I feel myself taking a lot of things in and not knowing what to do with everything I’m taking in, and I feel like the more I try to understand, the less I actually understand. I feel myself trying to think about things one way only to have them shift another way (namely, positive to negative, as in the quote), and I keep feeling this “heavy boot” feeling that Oskar talks about. Alas, as a 19 year old human, I can’t talk about anxiety and depression as if they were “heavy boots”.
After thinking about heavy boots, I thought about the song Heavy Rope, by Lights, and I began to feel very sad – sadder than usual, I should say – because I keep feeling like something’s missing.
I feel like I’m falling through this abyss of sadness and instability and even if someone tosses me the heaviest rope they can find so I can cling on and pull myself up, I’ve still got these heavy, heavy boots on that impede my progress.
Am I even making sense? I’m trying not to second guess myself anymore, because I end up getting tangled in things I don’t want to be tangled in when I don’t follow my gut, but sometimes I can’t help it.
Am I too vulnerable?
Am I being annoying?
I just want to have some solid ground, someone familiar that I can be intimate with, and a smoothie right now.
I wish I were a better person, a happier person – someone who doesn’t wear heavy boots all the time.
Featured Image: Rope by MikeBird is licensed under CC0.