Defining Circumstances

"i can't remember who said it first, and i mark it as one of life's great ironies: so often, the details of what shapes us most are forgotten over the course of our day-to-days. if we knew how important a moment was going to be to us one day, i imagine we would record it or preserve it better. sure- we'll pay through the nose to have our weddings videotaped; but can we say the same thing about the first time we discovered masturbation, or the moment we realized that the true nature of the opposite sex was to lie and humiliate? usually not."
-kevin smith

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this blog, along with the next two, are sort of an experiment. they are all going to be very loosely (even vaguely) connected, but hopefully, all will be pretty personal.

why?

i don't think i have enough "real" personal blogs posted, and i feel that is the point for this blog.

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i can think of only a handful of moments that have defined me: that have truly given a definition to me. maybe some of these events haven't really given meaning to me to others, but they have, in a short period of time, all given an understanding of me for myself.

and maybe that understanding of self is more important than some some projected half image.

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in order. order may be best.

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first kiss.

i think my first kiss is something that made me understand people, attraction, better than any event before (maybe since). it was something that just made me see things differently, even if those things i saw were still from an adolescent viewpoint.

my first kiss just meant so much to me. it was an event i didn't expect, didn't really see coming at the time, but something i think about constantly.

in fact, i wonder if there is going to be a kiss, or any physical act that will explain more in seconds than my first kiss had.

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first fight.

another "first", another event that explained so much so quickly.

getting hit in the face twice is something that i just won't forget. not because of pain, not because of surprise.

instead, i think it was the first time i felt hate. i knew the person this event happened with disliked me, but after those two hits to the face i knew that it went far beyond a simple sense of fucked-up teenage rivalry or angst.

it was hate.

and like love, it's just something that is incomprehensible, dangerous, and completely uncontrolled.

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freshman year was a very odd experience for me (hell, being honest, it is probably bizarre for many a 14 year old).

two things happened that defined pretty much my entire existence in high school.

one, i think i fell in love with "my best friends girl". or ex-girl. or something. but maybe love is too strong a word-- maybe it was more an insane infatuation. or maybe a misunderstanding.

but it defined me in ways i still sometimes think of from time to time: it made me realize that i would break friendships for relationships- a trend that undoubtedly it still within my blood, my mind, and my heart.

the other thing? megan.

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megan fucking was a bane and boon to my high school life. i loved her in ways i still, to this day, cannot, and will not explain nor question.

something she gave to me, something she made me into, made me me for the years that followed... and ninth grade we had only met. nothing happened.

nothing but a friendship formed in zero period earth sciences.

then came tenth grade, and the kiss i will never forget as long as i live. it remains to this day the best non-sexual physical experience of my life.

it's all a bit fucked up.

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tenth grade is also the time where i figured out i could get away with saying things through writing. i found out that i could express so much without vocally saying anything about anything. i could symbolize, i could write in metaphor, and it would all be meaningless to anyone but me.

and learning how to write in such a way is the most important out of mind, out of body, experience i ever have had.

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if you knew me in high school, in late 10th, 11th, and senior year, you know that i drank. a lot. too much.

it was also a habit, at times, i still find myself fighting back. still find myself unable to control without guidance from those who have stood by me for all the insane, intense, drinking periods.

but i would be a liar if i acted as if it didn't shape me in some way. drinking is a choice, but it was choice i made for knowing the consequences that would haunt me from day to day, moment to moment in the years that followed.

so much of my writing, so many of my current "philosophies" have come from the act.

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8/2/2006.

andrew saved my life, and for that i will love him forever.

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a little over a year later (or less?) i met rockie, who unknown to you (rockie) until now-- you also defined me in ways that i cannot explain.

not because of any one reason, not really. but you have been someone who i know i can depend on more than many of my closest, "forever"-known, friends.

and i love you for that.

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i think that's good for now. i'm leaving a lot out. obviously things that happen (or have happend) more than once i can't write much about (sex and the like)... i also am leaving things that happened previously to this presented time frame out. and things that have happened more recently.

there is so much more. specific teachers (the teals, missiakian, andrews), friends (jino, jennifer, colleen), family (my brother, my dad)...

there are always things that i just can't write. both good, bad, great and terrible.

or can't bring myself to write (my mom, and such things)... but i will.

i think this blog is really opening a purpose for those of you i have ask to read this.

so, next blog is on insanity, followed by love.