Thought Recollection (lengthy read)
This isn't really much of anything, just a long vent started by myself feeling lonely again. I hope you enjoy, and can connect with parts of it nonetheless.
The following song from Nick Drake's album Pink Moon was played while I wrote this, and captured the mood that I felt while writing this. Feel free to listen to it while you read.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vx2Q-RwJyls[/youtube]
It's quite rare that I feel like I even feel any emotions during the day, and then the music comes on and my mind begins to swirl at the amazing music my library brings me. Music is one of those few things that seems to stick around forever. Interests come and go for me, things that once made me happy no longer do, but music has always been there. It keeps my mind completely interested; I can listen to a song over and over and my brain just loves to try and perceive the song a little differently with every listen, and if I'm lucky, I just might catch a new little subtlety in the track that I never noticed before, yanking my curiosity. Often I just wish I had someone to share it with. I come home from school every day, and then go to my room and sit on my chair or on my bed, turn on some music, and recollect my thoughts, contemplate on things, or go for a walk (by myself) and marvel at the beauty of a world that I sadly don't see enough of.
As much as I want to, I can't be alone forever. Even as a child I dreamed of not having Asperger's, but instead something that caused me to avoid people entirely, to be completely indifferent towards everyone, and be happy about it. As a very young child I tried to develop social connections, much like anyone else, but instead of making connections like the other kids did, I was greeted with hostility and rejection. These feelings over the years turned in to a cold hatred for people; I was so...frustrated, and saddened that only one or two people my age would take the time to try to understand me. These people would tell me how bright and friendly and insightful I was, how caring and loyal I was. I felt like I was none of those things. I still have trouble accepting any kind of compliment. Perhaps because of this loner ideal I have set in my mind, maybe because I actually believed those kids who told me that I was a loser, that I was a freak. I don't know.
Hazy, is a word I like to use to describe myself, again pertaining to this stupid ideal, of what it would be nice to be, even if I'm not. I dream, and often actually do, go through the motions of every day feeling numb, almost dead. Things happen, events just go by me and I don't seem to be able to take notice. People with whom I'm not entirely familiar with just appear as blurred faces in a dream. I have trouble remembering simple things like where I put my house keys, or remembering to do some task my parents asked of me. I feel tired a lot too, just kind of drone tired. I feel depersonalized. I feel old.
I want to want to do something in this world that is meaningful. I used to want to be a scientist, with all my passion (and I do consider myself an extremely passionate person (in a loving sense, not the crazy screaming in your face sense) when it comes to something I really like to do). I still want to go in to a scientific field, but it's not the same as it was. I have such an intense curiosity in things like the sciences, but I took it up perhaps too early. None of the other 1st grade kids gave a crap about what happened when you mixed hydrogen with oxygen. By the time I made it to high school I was so tired of life, so tired of trying to find someone else who was interesting in chemistry, or physics, and failing at it, that I simply slipped off the social grid of the 2-3000 kid public high school I went to. I was too weird, or perhaps too creepy for the other kids that were interested in the sciences and math, same goes for the music kids. I became even sadder, because I was so eager and had such a desire to connect with kids that finally had similar interests as me, and I was almost always simply met with "you're weird go away", other rejectful replies, or just awkward silence. The internet saved my life in this regard, as did books. It wasn't the same as actually connecting with a human being, but I got answers that I wanted about how the world worked, or the beautiful man-made idea that is mathematics. The articles on the internet, or the words in books did not care that you were socially ret*d. They were just there, waiting with the words inside them, for some mind to absorb the words and make sense of them.
I feel lonely. Even at my new school, I don't often feel like I really, truly connect with the people. I have friends, but for the most part I still don't really feel like I have friends, in the sense that we connect and we both really care for each other. I've had one romantic relationship my entire life, and I ended up falling in love, although the relationship only lasted a little more than a year. I cared so deeply for the woman whom I was with, although nowadays I'm not positive as to why I started to care about her. She was probably one of the only people I ever felt truly connected with, which made me learn the strength of being alone: when you do find a mate, she is truly your world. After a couple months in to the relationship, I began to feel like I was more open, honest, and loyal, even trusting, than I had ever been towards anyone in my entire life. Such feelings are ones I had never even gotten a glimpse of before. She was the first girl I kissed, the first girl I lied down with and shared life stories with, the first girl I had sex with. I just loved being with her. We were best friends in the truest sense of the word, but still something even more. The words to describe how I felt would remain just out of my reach. Emotion, is all I can say to describe it. I truly felt like a human being when I experienced these things, and the feeling went so deep that it changed the way I thought about people; about life.
I'm sitting here on my chair, in my room, alone of course. It's 2 am and I'm listening to the album Pink Moon, by Nick Drake. I have such a hard time sleeping at night sometimes. My mind often just won't let me, and I've fallen too much in love with the feeling of being sleep deprived, where you're just sitting in dark silence and your body isn't really even there. I think it's during that time that my mind is most clear, and I come up with my most interesting thoughts and ideas. There's also just something about nighttime, where everything is just so still and silent. Especially when it's also a little cold, you can really bask in your feelings and explore then when you're alone at night. Moonlit walks are also amazing for contemplating, especially when you have someone to take them with. I remember when I would spend nights like this with my ex, where the nighttime would become almost magical; everything was so still and silent, and peaceful. It was just us; everything else was asleep, or even dead for all we cared. We were all that mattered, and the world was ours. I miss that.
Music makes me feel human. I cry, or at least, want to cry whenever I hear melancholy singer-songwriter stuff like Nick Drake. I love the feeling of being just a little under the normal mood line, not depressed, but just a little sad; reflective. I imagine being outside in a beautiful park, or in the woods on a mild spring day, tripping on acid, when I hear music like this. Why acid? I've never felt like drugs were the cool thing to do, and I've never really felt a need to use drugs to be socially accepted or whatever. It's just that when you're on acid, that amazing feeling you get when you see or hear something beautiful beyond description is so wonderfully magnified. Beauty can be beheld without any second doubts; beauty can been truly seen for what it is.
Nick's voice echoes through my mind with sharp knives of familiarity; he too, felt depressed. He too, felt alone. So many thoughts, memories, and feelings come in and out of my brain, like the wind, when I hear this album, when I hear music. Music makes me feel human. It makes my heart ache and long to find that mate whom I can share myself with. It keeps my brain active, it makes me feel like I really care, or at least, can care. It makes me feel human, and I don't feel human often enough. Not like other people do.
I wish someone could make me feel human, make me feel loved; make me feel like I can love. Make me feel like I can trust, and be with people, and not continue to just be a faceless nothing. A hazy memory, that just wasn't quite important enough to make someone remember. To make someone care.
Last edited by DerKodeMeister on 07 Oct 2010, 8:46 pm, edited 3 times in total.
azbluesgal
Tufted Titmouse

Joined: 14 Sep 2010
Age: 76
Gender: Female
Posts: 49
Location: phoenix (really)
Lonely and longing doesn't have an expiration date. During my long journey of the past year - transforming my life totally 180 degrees was scary as hell. During my 50 lb weight loss I did my own psychological "forensic" analysis of my own childhood traumas up to my present adult state and now understand myself a lot better. Now that I've lost my "protective" layers of fat, I'm back in the "real world" again. I love listening to blues music and go to a few bars but do not drink anymore.
I'm really stymied about what to talk about with someone my own age, but when young guys half my age start hitting on me I really get confused. I'm probably in the best shape physically and mentally i've ever been in my life - any YEAH I"M still LONELY too. But trust me - having loved and lost really IS better than never having loved at all. So If I can do it with all my wrinkles, you youngsters can get out there and try. peace, zig
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