Needless to say

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Needless to Say...

I've been having a very hard time these past few weeks so I'm sorry if I'm scattered and loose.

This week has hit me the hardest since I've just been done with the holiday weekend and since I've been busy unloading boxes and tagging supplies to stock them out on the shelves. But since we're running out of room, we have to cram everything in. But I won't argue for that otherwise.

During the past few weeks and midway through June, I've been dealing with a lot of struggles with getting into the habit of working since it took me a whole 3 weeks to start working again at the bookstore since it went through a shutdown. What's worse is that between the situation at home and at school, I've been peerless and aimless without guidance and direction in my life and while I have been trying to essentially build a bridgeway between myself, my past, and the next big goal in my life in terms of happiness and success, I have had not much luck otherwise and my goal in cultivating my own guidance is nothing more than a goal in mind, not directly my own path. Since my parents are ever growing distant, my sister is out of commission in terms of school and a regents diploma, and with the summer being halfway done and community college being almost done with one more semester left, I feel half-baked (almost figuratively and literally speaking depending on definition and perspective) on how to handle and roll with these things. I've tried keeping in touch with this with someone from my former high school and my godmother, but I feel that all that's left for me to do is to soldier on with work, no matter how tough it is because regardless, I still need money to wrap up buying new clothing and computers. While that's not my biggest obsession, part of my life I felt out of place with these since I've been struggling early on and clothing never entered my mind as being key to my lifestyle. But now, knowing the importance of everything in between, I realized then how far behind I was and since then, I've been working myself from the ground up in terms of building myself regardless of what I have. Makes it seem that compared to my sister, who has a 3.97 GPA to my 3.33, everything falls flat on its face.

I didn't count on being happy, but I also didn't wish things were like this either. Sometimes I feel like I'm digging out of the rabbit hole to crawl out of my family's circumstances. Sometimes I feel like what's got me here and now was what my family got themselves to. But with nobody left to have their backs, who can you depend on? Not just trust, but depend on? Granted, there are a few decent people at school, but it doesn't help when all my life I've been riding solo without friends or anything like that, but I guess that will have to wait until I'm in my late 20s/early 30s to figure all that out. But I think that what's been the key stressor is time. Time to eat, sleep, etc. whatever it takes to get going. But most of these times, any at all occassions we spend with others also falls short. Like the time I found out about my Dad's p*rn collection when my mother went to Madrid to visit her family, especially my uncle for his 50th birthday. Honestly, it never occured to me to stumble across it, as since my PC's a PC of sh*t, I needed to google on my Dad's computer to figure out how to transfer, but that got pushed off at a later time due to the Calculus I course not being eligible for Financial Aid and therefore having to go back and forth for it between faculty in the school. Regardless, I would have never imagined it, but knowing it now, I felt mortified and scarred (as I do now), as I even found myself at odds between sweltering with heat and my face melting as I tried to calm myself down, knowing how sorry I truly felt for my Mom. What may be even worse is that he may also be looking up some g*y stuff as I saw brief glimpses of what were supposed to be webcam chat links. I don't know, but don't worry, I'll leave it at that.

Even then, I would have never figured my Dad to do that, but there are also skeletons in his closet where I felt he wanted to write me off as some kind of alien (like Saul Erdel to Martian Manhunter) or listless person/homonculus because of my autism. But the problem is that he was too discontent about the matter from a distance and just seemed to be overly nostalgic about the subject. I may not have desires, but that's probably because I'm too busy and struggling to feel any of that and that I've been so broken down in the past that I just don't give a f*ck anymore about where I go from here. Between life being about waiting in points and between where I find myself 8-10 years from now, I don't expect myself to have any desires of fruition, apart from the desire to be happy and feel loved. But are love and happiness inane human desires? Are they part of the human condition or a God-given right by society? We argue from Thomas Jeffersson that the pursuit of happiness is what made our land the soil of America that it is now, but between Trump, the democratic debate, and other current events like the Notre Dame, it wouldn't be any surprise that the decline of the west would be a real thing, but that's besides the point, needless to say. But, considering how my sister and father debated about the debate and how they were too busy focusing on how half of them spoke "mexican yap" as I said (not to sound offensive), but my Dad, taking a degree in being a smartass, said that there's no such language as mexican (yeah because it's spanish, duh) and that I needed to "educate myself on the subject", until I found out that he had other ways of being "educated" on it like with the p*rn. Moving forward to early July, everyone is on-edge since this week and the end of June are where people focus on vacation, but not us. Even then, family just grow evermore distant now that we don't make the same amount of money and my Grandpa also half-asses his cooking by cooking macaroni and cheese, baked beans, and ham, the holy trio of disgust since neither my sister nor I eat red meat and I generally hate beans (olives even more so). There are some exceptions to beans, I think, depending on what, but I don't eat chili with the red beans so I can't say. But regardless, I try my best to get some good out of it, like when my aunt and uncle lended me back the xbox 360. Even with current consoles today, I found myself needing closure with one more game: Castlevania Symphony of the Night on the Konami Classics Vol. 1 game disc. So once that's done, I can move on, so maybe you'll see me in the game threads when that happens.

But for this week, it's been hard, very hard. I get no respect between my family or work and I've been unloading boxes like a dog. I've spoken to someone back in high school so I'll come back when that's resolved. But in the meantime, all I can do as I've said, needless to say, is soldier on. There's usually a co-worker who works on occassion but tends to be the absolute worst with her bickering and nonsense and just overall comes off as condescending by thinking that if I don't do something that's reactionary, she'll talk me down a notch (i.e. saying "instead of sitting down" or something at the end to ask me to do something). One case would be when she said that if I didn't want to do a box (as if I ever had/have a say in that as I don't/won't) down by the stairs, she could do it, but when I explained to my boss about it, she said that that's not how it works (well of course not) because I'm getting paid to unload the boxes and work. But if she was giving me the idea of not doing a box (even though I know that she'll just make me do it in the end), then why bother asking in the first place? I'm not not going to do it because I'll know that my boss will be very upset about it or whatever when and if I don't. What's also worse is that today I spilt my water bottle by accident because it was tough obviously, but all the red-headed (literally) worker did was just pity me like "ohhhhh, sorry you spilt your water bottle, now go clean that up before the ice melts." Doesn't help much when I'm groveling at my gross co-worker's painted toenailed feet, which I know sounds disgusting beccause it is. But there's also no AC running and all my boss and co-worker/manager seem to do is just bicker and complain. Just while I was tagging all the supplies with the right SKU and barcode on them, they were discussing about going to the beach or how said co-worker/manager broke up with her boyfriend and said that she hasn't told anyone about it (yeah, it's because no one cares that you did or did not mention it the same way no one cares about how many boxes I unload because corporate america and all that). Regardless, I try to make the little things count and it's not like the case with the water bottle was all for naught since I left a bit of water from drinking the night before frozen in the freezer so it must've been an act of God for having that endure so long prior to closing. When I shelved out my last box, there was a tick or spider on the floor, but rather than kill it, because I know I was already having a bad enough day, I let it go on to move down the stairs. Maybe it'll do me a favor and bite my boss for me and give her lyme disease (no, I'm just kidding. That'll probably never happen). But nevertheless, after work, I try and make the time to make use of my area when I'm tired and just earlier this week I saw an egret and a couronmant on a river bank and imagined how beautiful that could be. I also played the piano, but I haven't played anything special like Beethoven because I know I won't be ready for that, but I have been pretending that I've been talking to a live, albeit empty, audience. But the only compositions that I seem to play are Texhnolyze's "When a flower blooms" or Rurouni Kenshin's "Quiet life" from the Trust and Betrayal OVA, with the latter a little more so since I've been habitually progressing a bit further.

And I think that's what this all is. Habitual progression. Of course, I can't say the same for the rest of it when I move on further in life, but that's all I got going for now. Just like in the OVA, I felt like the main character in Rurouni Kenshin trying to protect my lover's happiness in the future whoever that may be. I know I don't want to be alone and I know that should be saved for another thread (and it will, don't worry) but trying to take part in the smaller aspects in life. But I sometimes feel that I am without love. I don't love my mother and I don't love anyone or trust anyone. I can't see or put anyone on the same page because they are all so busy trying to make themselves look good and keeping a straight, same-faced attitude. I would have never imagined that working summers as a college student would be as lifeless as working full-time after graduating. Neither or just seem to add up because they're not on the same page.

I've been dealing with what makes happiness from sacrifice and I sometimes think that when I write a novel, it'll be what comes from that source of happiness because I can't imagine myself abandoning anyone the same way my parents, especially my father, has. But I don't know how I may feel towards love and humility. Perhaps I am like an alien or J'onn J'onnz. But I don't come with the packages of oreo cookies behind my back (as there is a "supposed" history of that and how my Dad just seems to be generally frustrated over cookies). Plus, knowing my Writing Workshop professor, who's had a knack of knowing comic book history and pulp fiction, as well as considering me (an) alien to his terms, I can imagine that my Dad is not the only one who thinks me of that. Perhaps this is why this site is called wrong planet...

And if that's not all, I'm starting to notice the patterns between my parents. With my mother growing cold and distant and my Dad tuning himself out.

In addition, My Dell's springing out from the bottom left side so this is going to be much harder to deal with than before.

Hello?

What you're going through is life in a nutshell.

Parents tend to "grow cold" towards their college-aged kids, unfortunately. Though, sometimes, parents remain loving. It's no reflection on you----it's because you're getting older and they want you to become more independent.

Regardless, though, it's not so much about us, rather it is about them.

Of course, granted, much of this thread could be shortened, but since I only have you to talk with, much of what I say or have said couldn't be said any more or less. But I think the point of what I'm trying to get (despite the bottle and box mishap, which I took care of the last box of, but the rest of the week I'll have to spare some time getting out of the house so I wouldn't die in the heat of the apartment cuz heat rises the higher you go up) is really much more about closure and reconciliation.

Closure to a decade and to the circumstances that have been made at this point in time, especially in the past few years. My parents have generally been cold and distant to each other, much to the point where they barely read lips or talk to one another and all that goes on their mind is nothing but work, work, work to make ends meet.

Another point is really due to age differences. My mother was (surprisingly and unsurprisingly) born in 1960 as opposed to 1968, which makes her 10 years older than my father, hence the generational differences and given how she was born in France at that time, also major cultural differences as well. Yet, it's really hard to see the two together because it doesn't look as though she's 10 years older when she's (was) together with him. I could write a whole thesis on this, but that's besides the point. Point is, it's not so much that they were cold in the beginning, but so much that they were cold and abrasive individuals that only happened to have gotten married and have kids. Sounds sardonic of myself to say that, so I'll stop there.

Honestly, the most I ever expected them from my life was to put flowers on their graves, yet even then that's too hard to ask. Maybe it's the cigarettes or the overtime that'll kill them, rather than old age. Because the last thing now that I can expect from them is hope to have them keep a roof on all our heads until my sister and I finish college and pay off our loans so we can save enough to move out.

It's hard, now, really. It's hard to imagine life being like this, especially as a 21-year old. While I don't expect much from myself, kids my age are all winning awards and sh*t just for dumb sports that they play or academics that they excel in or partying or getting drunk or some stupid sh*t. While it's too late and too corny now to say that so I can take all that back (if I ever could, but I'm probably too smart for that to be able to). Still, I doubt it'll all mean a damn thing for the rest of the future as I see now that all what life has ahead of me is to go to school to earn credits, work for some side money (for tuition and clothes (although the latter's coming to a close soon so I wouldn't have to buy much stuff)) and earn and save enough with my degree to move out, while also making a trip the first day after I graduate to show my math teacher my (future) degree in Mathematics and Computer science to show all the blood and sweat that went into it.

Was my life or my family's life just waiting for disaster? Or was it always like this? Is that why it feels like a machine? To never know love, pain, pleasure, and compassion?

I can't or won't expect much from my parent's love. Never have. Much of what has made me independent is only so because I made myself through it. Early at an age I learned out of my way from my parents not to burden myself with my problems on them, so I made it a habit not to remain so and not rely on them with money or asking for anything. Must seem why I was able to get my diploma from high school with no strings attached compared to my sister because I didn't bother going to the prom. That doesn't sound like love. It sounds more like a social contract and, unironically, it is.

Now all that's left for this year is to make piece and amends not with my family, but with any goals that I have for myself. Herkimer will be nothing more than a swan song the moment I come back since now everyone that I know who was toxic is gone. It's also good too, because I wouldn't have to worry about graduating from that hellhole either since I'll transfer soon to a 4-year. It's been a hard summer, but we're halfway done. Least I can do now is keep my head down and hope for more money and all that.

Another thing that I might add is the relationship between my mother and I. Often times, I feel like she's trying to 1-up me as a surrogate husband (which has happened before earlier this year until I told her to back it off), but the conversations (or arguments depending on which is which really) just scream surrogacy to my face as I feel that they should be meant for my Dad based on how the both of us talk. One time, she called me a "psychopath" for freezing a blanket in the freezer because it was the summer and it's hot inside and out and I don't have my own g*d*mn room.

In some cases, while we argue about cleaning and such (since she's basically a workaholic, a laundry machine, and a cleaning machine all rolled into one), it seems more to me that I'm the parent trying to correct a child because of all the incessant arguments we get into. Meanwhile, as I mentioned before, my Dad just seems to want to catch a break from everyone by eating his popcorn, watching old movies, and playing golf on the weekends. Of course, I aim to make this change by going to the library more often before school starts so I can read up more on Math, Computer Science, and Philosophy to gain a better understanding of my world (since I felt that my experience with autism to my Dad made me feel more like a martian or an experiment to him than anything normal) and its surroundings. But not right now. Not with this weather in the 90s and the occurring "heat wave."

I may argue that I should take into consideration on what English philosopher Alan Watts said on love being madness. But I think that his works just seemed too therapeutic (which may seem obvious given the lack of guidance in my case) and not of the academic type. One has or may not have no self to love, who knows, as he may say. I was really more of a Max Stirner and Martin Heidegger person anyways. Heidegger argued that philosophy stemmed from bestiality and nihilism and Stirner argued that only the self matters. Maybe that's what's going for me sooner or later anyways.

Perhaps my life was meant to be in observance of others, yet this makes me only as cold as a clam. But I wasn't one to be filled with life or enthusiasm or just willing to go out all the time like my sister. That may seem to be the case between us, really. I only managed to get my diploma not because I was a year short, but because I didn't seem willing enough to go to prom and do all that hangout garbage. My sister was all about the high life, with her sweet sixteen and prom. If that didn't happen, she could've gotten her diploma sooner. Maybe it's all symbolic. I'm as free as I can ever be, yet only can when I'm not under the circumstances of others (i.e. loans and parents). That's why I have to make up for it by compensating and seeing to it that I show my freshman math teacher (long story) that I made it with my degree.

These comments are incredible, OP, and I think they'll be worth re-reading many times over. Mind if I copy them to Word? It's very emblematic of the human condition--very well-written, too, and quite relatable to my own life. Which was a surprise.

Hang in there, man. I don't know if it would be any use but PM me if there is a shred of anything I can help you with. But with your writing I might be the one sending you a PM.

This is the first day of the rest of your life, Indominus.

B-But I haven't finished graduating yet. Also, first day of what?



W-Why do you want to copy my stuff? What are you going to use it for?

I am confusion.

I'm not using it for something; I just wanted to give it a good thorough read-over because I like not only your style, but also your subject. Naturally plagiarism would suck.

I don’t think Borromeo will plagiarize your stuff.

I meant that you found someone who really appreciates your writing.