on the road

I'm not able to go home anymore. Some really bad stuff happened, so I packed and left. I'm going to be spending the next few weeks at various friends' houses, then coming back home for the rest of my stuff to bring back to my dorm. It's really scary because I don't know if my parents are going to continue to pay for my tuition. There's no way I can afford to go to the school I'm going to by myself. At the same time, it's strangely exciting to truly be on my own. I have been going to college for the last two years, but I could always come back home, and home was within an hour of school. Now there's no place to go.

subvert! undermine! love!

Days of War, Nights of Love came in the mail today. It's an introduction to the anarchy, the kind I had talked about before. It's a fascinating book.

The nice folks from CrimethInc. also included a whole bunch of stickers. Which I may or may not have posted all over town and photographed. I placed a couple up on my Flickr, but the rest were crappy snapshots that I had to take in a bit of a hurry.

sleep

Up late again for no particular reason. This is happening more and more often. But I don't mind. It's just boring and kind of lonely. Oh well. I can't shake this restlessness and disinterest in life. I just don't care much, except for music, photography, and the girl I still love. Nothing else, not even my friends or family, at least right now.

I think I may take another walk to see how far I can get. I plan on cheating and driving out to the state park. I haven't been any farther west than that. So everything will be new. I may hitchhike. Woot.

I hope that your holiday(s) went well. I really do.

smiling fights the lonely monster

Note: Skyy vodka and hawaiian punch are really, really good together.

I've been avoiding my family as much as possible. I just can't relate. They're good people and I love them, but that doesn't bridge the wide gulf between us. So most of my time has been spent in my room or at my friend's house. With so much time to think.

I've hammered out the chords for a new song. It should be up on my myspace within a week or so assuming I can get back to my dorm to grab some recording equipment. So now you have something to look forward to, presumably.

I hope you have a good holiday everyone.

false starts

That whole backpacking thing didn't work out. I walked for about 4 miles before I realized that my pack was too heavy or my back was messed up or something. Lame. So... it was a learning experience, I guess. Next time if I want to go somewhere, I'll just hop on a freight train with a light pack and see where I end up.

I feel so alone. All the time. Even when I'm around people, I'm not all there - that one piece, that one part that makes it all real - it's almost always missing. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just be happy?

I have never been loved - truly loved. It sounds self-pitying, doesn't it? But I think that's how we are. We're built to long for each other. I find myself waking up every morning, curled up and trying to snuggle with the damn wall. This is unbearable. I can't even express anything anymore. I can't do this. Let me feel anything but this.

1st avenue, headed south

I'm waking with the sun tomorrow (today). I will pack my things and walk west until the sun sets. Then I will camp out and walk back the next day. My very first adventure. I hope I don't die.

continued

Spending the weekend back at school wasn't as bad as I though it would be. I had to be there for a final in my pain-in-the-ass photo class that meets on Sunday mornings. So lame. I ended up staying the rest of the day just chilling with Cat and Schroder and some other new friends. Time well spent, for sure. Schroder had to leave, though, and she probably won't be back for months. When we were saying goodbye, I don't know... whatever I was thinking, it's best that I didn't.

I've been learning a whole lot more about the whole anarchist/transient lifestyle from Schroder. It is truly fascinating - way different from any preconceived notions I had about anarchy. I can't really describe it well, but they can. And so can these folk. Check out the FAQ, it's incredibly well-done.

I don't know. This is pretty cool. I'm seriously considering doing it, but even I'm not sure how I'd go about doing that or even when I could. Regardless, it's given me something to keep my mind off her some of the time. A relief, no doubt, but it still hurts just as bad as it has before. It's worse when I'm by myself, and worse still when it's night. I wish I had a box where I could keep whatever part of me that aches so much. I could just set it in there every now and then, but strangely, I wouldn't want to keep it there forever. Sometimes I like how it hurts, but it's more than that. I don't know how to say what I mean.

Supertramp

She called the other day to say she was sorry. I am just happy to be able to talk to her again. So I guess that means I'm feeling better.

I met a transient girl the other day. Her name was Schroeder. She was visiting a friend here who was a friend of my friend. It's kind of hard to describe her. She was alive like no one else. So I'm a bit taken with her. Not really, though. Although she didn't mean to, I felt really superficial and fake around her. I had never really questioned culture or gone out on my own or anything. And here she was, having been tramping since the summer, hopping trains and going all over the place. I had an intense desire to ask her to take me with her. I'm not trying to romanticize that life or anything. It's hard as hell not knowing where you'll sleep, where or when you'll eat, and so on. I'm not even sure if I could do it. But I don't know. I've had this thing where I get really, really restless and I don't know what to do with myself. I can't sit still, and nothing helps, not even music. Usually I just ignore it, but now I'm wondering where it's really coming from. A desire to really live? To be more than this? Even now I'm out of my head with restlessness. Goddamnit, what is this?

greetings

Listening to Sufjan Stevens right now. I strongly recommend that you go out and buy his entire collection. Immediately.

It is Saturday night and I am alone in my room. There's no real way to put a positive spin on that, is there? Finals are this week. Not too big of a deal at an art school. At least compared with MSOE. Jesus. So I'm studying. Or was. Break time.

Today was spent mostly in the darkroom. I only developed two prints in four hours. Most people could get around six. My shots kind of suck too. Bummer.

Tonight was going to be spent trying to get drunk off vodka. I just started drinking recently, so I have no real idea what I'm doing. Anyways. This entry isn't going the way I want it to.

Let's try again. I am hesitant to write what I'm really feeling in this blog because my parents were secretly reading my old blog that I had kept for the better part of two years. I was going through some rough shit at MSOE and I made a passing reference to self-harm and they freaked. My dad drove up the next day at 6 in the morning and brought me to a therapist. For serious. To be fair, I had "experimented" , for lack of a better word, with cutting before. I felt really betrayed and extremely pissed off with the whole blog thing My dad gave me his word that he wouldn't read my blog again, but I can't be sure.

So. I guess I'll just say whatever. If I can't say what I feel here, I can't say it anywhere. I have felt this crushing, bottomless loneliness for several weeks running. I'm not trying to be over-dramatic about this, honest. I feel unworthy of love in any form. That's why I wanted to get drunk tonight. So I could feel okay for a while. Probably would have just ended up crying and crying and crying. "Talk to someone about this". Why? They can't fix it. Me talking about how miserable I am and how much I dislike myself makes me feel worse.

I have a quiet feeling that the rest of my life will be like this. Long, almost endless periods of sadness and solitude interrupted by brief spurts of happiness. Is a life like that even worth living? There have been suicide attempts in my family before, and I have seen the destruction and grief they bring. So none of that.

Please. Please. I don't even know what I'm asking for or who I'm asking. But please. Let me love. Let me be loved. Let me stop hurting. Please. Please.

I now have a super dooper myspace music site. My song(s) should be up there in the next couple of hours.

http://www.myspace.com/seanvize

it hurts

Today was no good, I was off my meds for nearly two days about five days ago, and it caught up to me just now. I hate those fucking things. I've been on them since I was 14. I'm not sure if they've even helped anything. So my mood has been off for a day or so now. Well, I can't be sure. What do you do when you can't trust your own thoughts? Whose thoughts are they then?

I miss you so much. Maybe it was something you could just brush off now that you have someone else. You really hurt me, and it's like you don't even care. Don't ever presume to tell me how I'm feeling. Only I can really know that, just as you are the only one who can truly know how you feel. I love you. I'm truly sorry if that makes you feel weird, but I'm not sorry for my feeling that way about you. Maybe you're right and you never really loved me. But I know that I loved you and that I love you still. And yes, I don't know the specifics about you that would come if there wasn't this distance. But would that make me love you any less? Any more?

You won't read this, though. So I'm just posting and recording my self-pity for all to read. I don't care. I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care. You never loved me. I don't blame you. But those precious weeks where both of us loved (or thought we loved) the other were wonderful.

Debbie Downer

Man. Still pretty busted up about this whole situation. "Time heals all wounds". Total bullshit. Time doesn't heal a damn thing - you just learn how to adapt to living with whatever is hurting you. It never scabs over. That's why out of nowhere, someone will mention something and it reminds you of whatever happened and it hurts just as bad as it did all that time ago.

I feel ugly and stupid and unwanted. Some days breathing is barely worth the effort. Ugh.