Back On The Horse

Tuesday is the new Monday, haven't you heard?

I'd planned on being productive yesterday, but an unforeseen event delayed my progress.

It was a good delay, though. A welcome delay. A needed delay.

A girl drove in from out of state, simply to meet/spend the night with me. Direct conversation/experience in and of itself? Amazing. Objectively realizing a teenage girl drove miles to just meet me? Huge Ego boost. We stayed up most of the night talking, and while she slept I entered a trance wherein I simply held her and listened to/watched her sleep. When she finally woke up, I had just about dozed off and she convinced me to get back up again. I knew I was going to be useless for the day anyway and was already pleasantly distracted, so I decided to just spend the day with her. She was here, now. Might as well use this time while I have it. Tomorrow (today) was open and free. We had a great time laughing and talking and getting to know one another. Words can't tell you how nice it was to have another warm body on the couch with me in this rapidly emptying/suffocating apartment. Her brief little visit served to divert attention away from my current strife, and for that I am extremely thankful. It would also seem that we made a genuine connection and that I positively impacted her life as much as she did mine.

Besides, I got a lot done today, anyway. So, no harm, no foul. right?

I scheduled some appointments to see some places this week. I walked around turning in applications and getting new ones, filling them out and turning those in. I even scheduled a tentative interview for Friday.

Today, I got that old familiar feeling of wanting to be a part of everyone's life again. Literally everyone. I somehow feel responsible for sadness. Like it's my fault. Like it's my duty to eradicate it from the world.

People will say that you shouldn't feel "The Weight Of The World On Your Shoulders" and that I should give up. People will say that we need sadness to counterbalance joy. I disagree. I'm in human form, I live, I breathe. I'm a part of the world. Not just a transcendent "One With Everything" part of the world either, a REAL physical, visceral part of the world. I have corporeal form, my actions and decisions DIRECTLY affect others. Why shouldn't I feel responsible? Why do we need misery to offset happiness? That's like saying I need to eat cat-shit in order to enjoy a steak. Stupid. I can enjoy a steak plenty fine without ingesting something disgusting to compare it to. Utilizing bad experiences to serve as perspective for enjoying good things is a wise method, but not a required one.

For a long time I've been on the Path Of Jesus. The Extrovert. The path wherein I preached The Way and told of the Secrets To Happiness. The very act of speaking about happiness, however, seems to negate happiness. Trying to teach people to be happy or to "fix" their lives for them seems to backfire and result in perverted perceptions of insecurity and inadequacy.

I'm straying to the Path Of The Buddha. Maybe if I'm just me, FULLY me and nobody else, others will get the hint and adopt any or all of my methods for themselves. It's ironic being said to someone so seemingly narcissistic and self-involved, but perhaps I should focus on myself MORE.

I've always thought the secret to my happiness would be making everyone else happy. Maybe the secret to making everyone else happy is me simply being happy.

Maybe I will adopt the attitude of "fake it til you make it" and I'll just do everything I normally do when happy and take it from there.

Eat. Smoke. Lift. Jump. Sprint. Climb. Swim. Walk. Bike. Run. Watch. Play. Read. Joke. Speak. Write. Capture. Entertain. Educate. Draw. Cook. Fuck. StoryTell. Photograph. Share. Hug. Inspire. Laugh. Learn. LOVE. Breathe. Sit. Stretch.

For as much as I want to help others and make them happy I am also vehemently stubborn on things I want for myself personally. Maybe I've been going about it all backwards? I've always thought that helping others would lead to allowing me to do things for myself. Maybe if I just focus on doing things for myself, that will lead to the happiness of others?

I walked several miles today so on my way back home I deemed it necessary to ingest sustenance. I went to Fredo's and got this:

It's called Ćevapi and the red sauce pictured is Ajvar. Both were very delicious.

I was going to use it to fuel my continued walking, but I ended up getting a ride home from a neighbor, and being off my feet just felt too sweet to head back out again. Initially the idea was not only to use it for fuel, but also to use my momentarily stunted hunger to shop for groceries. Which, as I type this and still feel somewhat satiated (very unusual for me) doesn't seem like a bad idea. I've been putting off grocery shopping for a little while now because being among so much food whilst so hungry is the purest form of torture I've ever known.

If I don't do that, I will at least try to pare down some of the surplus clothing I've been inexplicably holding on to for years.

Many productive things got done today, and I aim to make as much use of the night as possible.

I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'm glad to at least have my bearings again. That's all I've ever asked for. I don't have to have stability as many people know it, just some semblance of what needs to be done. That's all I ask. I don't mind work, I don't mind dirt, I don't mind sweat. As long as it has a goal. One that I can see and understand. The hardest parts of situations like this isn't the legwork, it's the confusion. The constant second-guessing and what-if'ing. I don't mind laboring, but I do mind wondering if my labor is doing any good. As long as I know I'm working toward something, I can pretty much do/get through anything.

One Step At A Time

The apartment is cold, dark and empty. JUST LIKE MY HEART, haha.

I'm in that bodily state of low temperature wherein normally trivial bumps and scrapes attain a brand new layer of pain. Bumping a knuckle here, bonking an elbow there. It all seems to hurt much more when one is cold.

I've never been one for subtlety so I'll just go ahead and acknowledge the obvious symbolism in that.

Things that wouldn't normally hurt or affect us, have much more impact when we're already in a state of distress.


A lot of the trauma of this series of events is due to the proximity of its constituent parts. Any standalone portion of this would be a daunting obstacle in its own right, but all combined together it's like the Voltron of Ass-Fuckery.

I just want some stability, you know?

I've done this (unfortunately) enough times now, that it hasn't fully taken me by surprise or fully taken me off my feet. I am still standing. I have a good idea of what to do. I will go on. That much, I know. The exact details of how, however, are going to need worked out.

I'm doing what I've taught myself to do in these stressful situations: putting my blinders on. Willful tunnel vision.

I began writing in an effort to center myself. I meant that as in here and now, but in general I guess that applies too. Writing focuses me. Makes my thoughts more tangible. When they're inside my head I'm more susceptible to the ebb and flow between them and my emotions. When they're on the screen and flowing off my fingertips, I'm like a scientist or a student assessing a problem. I look at the problem, eliminate as many variables as possible and then proffer a solution, fully prepared to embark upon the process of trial-and-error.

So what I know now is: I have to be out by the 31st. I have no income. I have no place lined up to go. Most of my belongings are already packed and stacked in a way that, I have to give myself, is much more efficient than past versions of myself or current versions of others could accomplish. It's impressive, really.

This sucks, and it hurts, but like a newly christened boxer well into the sophomore years of his career, I've been hit before and I KNOW I will be hit again. And it's like Rocky Balboa tells me,

"It ain't about how hard you hit, it's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and KEEP MOVING FORWARD."

It hurts, my head is stinging, my ears are ringing and I'm having trouble seeing straight, but I'm on my feet. And more importantly, I'm aware that "he" is on his feet too, and gearing up to strike me again. I mustn't give up. I must be prepared. I will get through this. If this series of events hasn't stopped me in the past, why should I let it stop me now? Fatigue? I have too much pride to be beaten by that. If I'm going to be stopped, it's going to be all the way.

So what needs to be done?

First and foremost, I need to eat. I've lost a lot of weight/strength and I can't afford to lose any more.

So... I will make some eggs. I will eat them, and I will do the resulting dishes.

And then I need to secure income, so I will walk around and collect applications from ANYWHERE with a now hiring sign.

I will fill them out slowly and purposefully over this weekend and I will turn them in bright and early on Monday morning.

Lastly, I need to be more mobile, so I will bring everything up from the basement. Including the uniform empty boxes needed to finish packing. I will pack as much as I can tonight before falling asleep, whilst simultaneously trimming the fat anywhere I can. Getting rid of excess possessions. Things I don't need/use.

I may hate this process and it may make me doubt my Higher Self and this entire plane of existence, but that doesn't change my ability to recognize, and be impressed by, my growth and resilience. At each iteration of this cycle I have gotten better. Leaner, faster, stronger. Each crisis only serves to hone my resolve and mold me into a more pure version of myself. Hopefully, one day, there will come a point in my own development where I can never be caught off-guard again. Not living in a state of prepared paranoia, but living in a state of fully relaxed alertness.

The more I watch my life fall apart around me the more remarkable I find my own reactions to it. An objective part of me is literally awestruck at my awesome ability to pick up the pieces and move on. In my head sometimes I think "This is too much. I'm not going to make it. I'm in over my head.", and yet all the while I'm thinking that, I'm watching my hands, consolidate things into neat piles. It's almost like my physical being has a will of its own. And if what I've observed holds any truth it would appear that "he" literally does not know how to quit. At times like that, I'm all too happy to turn the reigns over to him.

There are problems, very real problems, that are going to shift out of my future and shift into my present very soon, but I can't let those distract me from the ones at hand. Cross each bridge as I come to it. What use is it to fret and worry about future bridges when there is one that needs immediate attending to?

I will let tomorrow's problems worry about themselves. For now, I'm going to deal with today's problems. Here and now's obstacles. Right now, the biggest things in my way are hunger, lack of income and loose possessions. All of which I have the power to fix, here, now, today.

Tuesday (Time for action.)

It's 4:15AM on Tuesday, the second of March, 2010 as I type this. Well 4:16 now, but you get the idea.

I was super-depressed last night/yesterday and about ready to hang it up.

It goes back to the whole wanting it bad enough thing. If you ACTUALLY want to do something, you'll do it. No matter the circumstances, you will find a way to do it. Aptitude at doing something was not what I lacked, it was the drive to do something. I didn't want to do anything.

The goal creates the path, not the other way around.

I'm feeling very positive, but also very nervous. I was proactive and checked some job listings and the very first one I found sounds a like a dream job, for where I am in my life right now. As such I updated my resume and am amidst plans to get a physical copy there. I know a person who works at the building where this potential job is located. Seeing as how as my main method of transportation will have to be the bus, I decided accompanying a person also reliant on the bus in order to get to this destination was a wise move. He too is sans license and must utilize his feet and public transportation to secure employment. So we've set up a little "Take your Josh Vish to work" day.

The plan is I follow his route so that I know it for the future. Later in the day I plan to revisit it with Kevin. I also plan on having a fresh haircut, looking overall presentable and having a resume in tow. So that means I leave in a bit to go on my journey of discovery and enjoy some down time on the ride home and then later, GET SHIT DONE. I'll do what it takes to get my resume printed and to get cleaned up and then we'll head down to turn it in.

I am nervous.

For the first time in my life, I am nervous. I used to be a un-ending wellspring of confidence, but these past few years have done more than their share to humble me.

How do I regard my jail time in the interview? My time on Pretrial Electronic Monitoring? Fuck. I am so nervous. When you go in to interview for a job you want to look and feel your best. I certainly don't feel it and I'm worried I don't look it either. Hopefully my resume is solid and my overall personality shines through. This is a chance at a gym job and I WANT IT BAD. Free membership? Employment? I'd be well on my way to getting my life back together. Gaaaaaah! It's exciting but nerve-racking at the same time.

I have a feeling of putting all my eggs in one basket and I know that's dangerous, but I can't help it. This would solve SOOO many problems for me. Not just having an income and getting in shape again, but maybe repairing my relationship with Kevin and my parents. Not just restoring my confidence in myself, but restoring their confidence in me as well. And if paying rent and feeding myself are no longer my main concerns I can re-focus on my long-term goals.

There is sort of an unspoken agreement in the air right now between me and Kevin. I brought up that I can't really afford to move and that anything coming of his moving out would be shouldered by my parents. He basically laid down the same guidelines that my parents and Shannon have laid down for me years prior. It's sort of silently understood that as long as I am going to be productive and actively trying to get back on my feet instead of thinking of the most efficient method of suicide that he is going to stick it out and do what he can to help me. In this case meaning continuing to live here until I'm financially able to move out as well. None of that is confirmed and it could just be wishful thinking and misconstrued information, but I'd like to think I know him pretty well by now and I also need to stay positive. I need to feel like my actions are going to have some positive effect or I won't even bother doing them.

That last sentence holds more meaning than I have time to expound on right now, but suffice it to say that is my overall outlook on life currently.

I need to feel like my actions are going to have some positive effect or I won't even bother doing them.

So here it is. And here I am. Hopefully putting a positive foot forward. It's not Monday morning, and I haven't had a full night of sleep and I'm kinda scruffy at the moment, but so what. At least I am moving forward. Nothing is ever going to be perfect and if I keep waiting for it to be I will never do anything with my life. All I (or anyone else for that matter) can do is to do the best I can with what I have.

And you know what? I think that if I do that, even if I end up failing, at the end of the day I'll be able to be proud of myself and to sleep soundly. And confident to get up and attack my challenges head-on the next morning.