Today I learned how strong my father really is. His hopes and dreams, his "whys" in life are not too far out of reach, despite seemingly hopeless amounts of debt, poor job offerings and daily injustices at work, options that seem futile, working jobs far below his frame of intelligence and what he is capable of... but he has a "why" and when a man has a "why" in his life he can endure any "how".
I came so close to a breakdown today, when I saw an update to my medical bill sent in, this time it was pink instead of white, when I had paid another $400 to it, they had said I only paid $250 or so. I was as pink as the letter, but I will, I promise to get up earlier and call them tomorrow and explain my case. I have been so reluctant, so emotionally adverse to opening the letters and facing the bills head on, as a coward, not as a man in control of his life, with hands gripping the wheel in the car on the road of how we deal with things. It's dehumanizing. I feel so abused. These people in Virginia or something, screw up on purpose perhaps, to make me and my family suffer. Sure, they're only trying to run a business, and with my split head and future desires to be on top of something, I have at times regrettably been able to equate people and profits. But my "why" will reside in bolstering the people...not as some socialist Marxist agenda, but as a way, when I see a country ran by corporations rather than by government, as a child of the worst economic crisis caused by greed itself, with senators and representatives choosing lobbyists over human lives, when presidents vow to turn toward the commoner over corporate interest and fail (but who would have guessed), I can only see my country in decline, and everyone underneath chase the trend.
It makes it hard to stay content. And I say content rather than happy, because when people say "find happiness" they do not quite mean that, as happiness is only something that can be ensued or resulted in when we find things in our lives that allow it. So these people mean "find something that makes you happy", and as humans can be defined as goal-oriented creatures, we can deduce that they mean, "find a future goal that will make you happy, and pursue it". Which is easier said than done, when I am so conflicted. I'm not unique in desiring money and wealth and a car that isn't a Toyota for once. And some Toyotas are quite nice these days. But I want to break the cycle of debt my mother and father have been in, and my father is in still, to have a house that doesn't have pieces falling apart, to order something without worrying about its price, but only the pleasure it will grant...but these feelings, like the attainment of all material possessions, I believe, are fleeting at best. Of course, we feel great after buying a car or some snazzy new clothes, but we quickly become accustomed to a this new, more exorbitant lifestyle, and anything less would be an absolute downgrade, in a world where our self-worth is determined by our salaries and sailboats, the area of our apartments and the number of channels on our televisions, would be an absolute hammer to the mirror. So, when push comes to shove, and income is lost, we would rely on debt to keep this self-worth, this lifestyle, these pleasures that don't really please but only maintain, creating that image of an enamored housewife in Orange County sneaking out her i-banker husband's AmEx card, giddy and gregarious, as she pulls in her Lexus to Neiman Marcus.
I know, everything I've said in this post has been said before, but it feels so much better relatively to say it myself, in my own way. I was so close to tears but ten minutes ago, I felt so lost and abandoned and abused, the minor debt of a medical bill only a sample of what's to come with student loans for an education I don't even know what I'll do with, but am confident that I need. It seems so...self-harming to have something of an existential/educational/career crisis AFTER getting accepted to your college, but I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I just wish I knew people, people I could converse with, that know this feeling of uncertainty. And I'm pretty much "locked in", I'm pretty much fated to go. I have to, everyone tells me, I have to. And deep down, I know it offers a better chance at life than this one right now. Something new, that novel stimulation that I've been craving since after high school, where in comparison to my boxed-in peers, I have so much, where one is just so jealous of what I have, things I'm trying to get away from. But right now, I could just never have enough money, even though I have so much more than those boxed-in peers, what I'll have to pay for just exceeds their understanding. Tuition, rent, medical bills...well some of it crosses over, but my requirements seem to be in another ball park. I don't know, I can't compare myself to them, for better or for worse. They're just other people. I'm just another person.
joke life
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
An I email I was forced to write
Ryan,
You are so incredibly important to me - you've helped shape my worldview and show me a love for literature and how to have a good time. You are the salt, sugar, and fat in my convenient, hyperpalatable American diet. For real! You are great!
But I am not, at least not yet. Though you are helping me achieve that, and that means the world to me, I still have a long way to go. And that being said, I never meant to offend you, or to toss crude, insensitive images in your direction. For everything you mean to me, Ryan, I can't imagine intentionally trying to hurt you, it's just not logically sound, it's not something I would knowingly do, not that it's not my fault, but something that lies in my lack of judgment -- when I thought out loud and considered the foul thoughts of foolish people (why would I do this) which I recited without censor, when I roleplayed various ideas percolating in my steam pot head, marinating my mind I guess I become immune to the consideration of what is contextually sound and what is not, which you may have noticed before. I don't want to create that image of myself, of someone who uses words that break down barriers around what one wants to deveop and protect.
I wish I could easily describe the sensations I felt when I realized that I hurt you. Plainly, my stomach began to intensely wring itself out and I noticed that the air was much hotter, and I felt the urge to sweat. I fumbled around in my car's trunk looking for my emergency cigarettes (there were 2, and I left them there originally to take to offer to my coworker, who invited me to a party at his house that evening) but smoked one. There was one left, shuffling around in the light cardboard of the package. I started the car and drove north, up to La Madera and Grenwiche. One of my eyes was irritated but I ignored it. NPR wasn't cutting it for me so I switched to the rock station and listened to it like background music in a movie, driving while my mind felt so rigid, so intensely focused on the cratered road and the turbulence around the car's frame as it scuttled and bumped until I decided to merge over left, where the road was much smoother. But in my head I felt aloof and lowly, something only time would change. I blew off that girl that I told you I would see again. I could not converse. I took La Madera eastbound, and turned right on Barnei boulevard. I wanted to walk and see things from close up, so I parked on a busy little shopping street, by a parking meter. The sign said time was up, so I didn't have to scurry around in my pockets or the car's center console for dimes. I got out and looked around. Something caught my eye and I walked toward it, "Out of the Closet" thrift store. I hadn't been to one before and I decided now would be a fine time. But I was disappointed to see the store cowering behind a heavy metal grating while I checked the hours. It closed today at 7. It was 8. I saw a male mannequin dressed like a pimped-out peacock and smiled. I kept walking a bit and a Mercedes pulled up to me, and a black man asked me which way to La Madera. I told him something that turned out to be wrong ten minutes later, but didn't let it get to me.
I wanted to ask someone which way to Valmont, back to familiarity and the freeway. I'm sure I could find it on my own but asked anyway. A strange, gregariously content Asian man smiled at me on the way to the liquor store as I bought myself a refreshing drink. I smiled back, thinking about how nice it is when strangers can approach each other with ease, just happy to be fellow men together, and remembered that "strangers are just friends you haven't met yet". He followed me into the liquor store and came out with me, and smiled again. Now was the time. "Do you know which way Valmont is?" He told me some directions that I didn't understand, even his exaggerated arm movements weren't enough to signal which way to go, but I pretended to follow along. He seemed well-kept, while an earring glowed and I noticed some strange scars connecting around his neck, as if he underwent an operation that would replace his skinmask face with someone else's. He seemed cool enough though. His directions included making a U-turn to go around some river that tears the street in half. I thought of a reservoir but no, it was some river that he was on his way to. He said something that included the phrase "horny" and asked me if "that was your car" twice. I thought about it for a second of a second and kindly refused the offer, and told him to have a nice night, and he was kind about it, too. I began to drive back to where I was heading and felt better. But I won't feel completely better until you read this email and call me some time.
With great honor,
Marcus Nagelberg
You are so incredibly important to me - you've helped shape my worldview and show me a love for literature and how to have a good time. You are the salt, sugar, and fat in my convenient, hyperpalatable American diet. For real! You are great!
But I am not, at least not yet. Though you are helping me achieve that, and that means the world to me, I still have a long way to go. And that being said, I never meant to offend you, or to toss crude, insensitive images in your direction. For everything you mean to me, Ryan, I can't imagine intentionally trying to hurt you, it's just not logically sound, it's not something I would knowingly do, not that it's not my fault, but something that lies in my lack of judgment -- when I thought out loud and considered the foul thoughts of foolish people (why would I do this) which I recited without censor, when I roleplayed various ideas percolating in my steam pot head, marinating my mind I guess I become immune to the consideration of what is contextually sound and what is not, which you may have noticed before. I don't want to create that image of myself, of someone who uses words that break down barriers around what one wants to deveop and protect.
I wish I could easily describe the sensations I felt when I realized that I hurt you. Plainly, my stomach began to intensely wring itself out and I noticed that the air was much hotter, and I felt the urge to sweat. I fumbled around in my car's trunk looking for my emergency cigarettes (there were 2, and I left them there originally to take to offer to my coworker, who invited me to a party at his house that evening) but smoked one. There was one left, shuffling around in the light cardboard of the package. I started the car and drove north, up to La Madera and Grenwiche. One of my eyes was irritated but I ignored it. NPR wasn't cutting it for me so I switched to the rock station and listened to it like background music in a movie, driving while my mind felt so rigid, so intensely focused on the cratered road and the turbulence around the car's frame as it scuttled and bumped until I decided to merge over left, where the road was much smoother. But in my head I felt aloof and lowly, something only time would change. I blew off that girl that I told you I would see again. I could not converse. I took La Madera eastbound, and turned right on Barnei boulevard. I wanted to walk and see things from close up, so I parked on a busy little shopping street, by a parking meter. The sign said time was up, so I didn't have to scurry around in my pockets or the car's center console for dimes. I got out and looked around. Something caught my eye and I walked toward it, "Out of the Closet" thrift store. I hadn't been to one before and I decided now would be a fine time. But I was disappointed to see the store cowering behind a heavy metal grating while I checked the hours. It closed today at 7. It was 8. I saw a male mannequin dressed like a pimped-out peacock and smiled. I kept walking a bit and a Mercedes pulled up to me, and a black man asked me which way to La Madera. I told him something that turned out to be wrong ten minutes later, but didn't let it get to me.
I wanted to ask someone which way to Valmont, back to familiarity and the freeway. I'm sure I could find it on my own but asked anyway. A strange, gregariously content Asian man smiled at me on the way to the liquor store as I bought myself a refreshing drink. I smiled back, thinking about how nice it is when strangers can approach each other with ease, just happy to be fellow men together, and remembered that "strangers are just friends you haven't met yet". He followed me into the liquor store and came out with me, and smiled again. Now was the time. "Do you know which way Valmont is?" He told me some directions that I didn't understand, even his exaggerated arm movements weren't enough to signal which way to go, but I pretended to follow along. He seemed well-kept, while an earring glowed and I noticed some strange scars connecting around his neck, as if he underwent an operation that would replace his skinmask face with someone else's. He seemed cool enough though. His directions included making a U-turn to go around some river that tears the street in half. I thought of a reservoir but no, it was some river that he was on his way to. He said something that included the phrase "horny" and asked me if "that was your car" twice. I thought about it for a second of a second and kindly refused the offer, and told him to have a nice night, and he was kind about it, too. I began to drive back to where I was heading and felt better. But I won't feel completely better until you read this email and call me some time.
With great honor,
Marcus Nagelberg
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
messing with destiny?
More conflict and confusion regarding the big move. I'm afraid of debt. Shouldn't I be? How much can my family contribute? Let's see. There's Tara&Randy, Grandpa, Kayla&Michael, Rona&Bob...if I can get a 10K loan from each of them, I'd be much better off. Tuition is due each quarter. It's like $5K a quarter. I knew it was expensive but my financial aid awards might not even come in until the beginning of the year because I applied later than usual. I'm going out of my fucking mind. I have no other choice. I have to leave. Or go broke. I need this though. So much. If the family could just loan it to me...
Friday, June 12, 2009
misery avoids company
god I feel like shit. there is one large task left at work and I can just stare at it in misery and dismay. i'm here, trying to do it but all i can drag myself to do is just nohthing, only sit here, feel bad, feel gross, want to eat more but am full, disgusted, not anticipating judgement uncertain about tonights events. want to go but don't feel on top of myself, am not communicating well with others, feel disengaged and in a fog, even though i turned it down the other night. feel odd. feel feel feel. i want feelins to be disengaged from thoughts. and bodily musings. feel so alien. just here. sorr this is not written well but had to be writtne incognito.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
time moves so quickly!
and I am still unsure of my future living situation! sigh! fuck! but I was confident with a new skill today, I called people up to do some plumming work for quotes and successfully found my old man the best deal ever. I was afraid of making these calls but I got good results within an hour. i am proud of myself for this.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
money provides comfort, power, control
So I should be making more of it. I'm still uninsured and need to see an allergy specialist, I might have a dairy allergy, milk (lactose) might be creating these balls of mucous that appear in my throat. I know, gross huh? it really sucks though but since my asthma is under control I can only classify anything else as a minor annoyance. I could buy some soy milk like a hippie. I need to work more hours to make more money. School is almost out for now. I need to know how much university will cost me, it bothers me so much because my father is still unsure of his own financial situation, and he sort of comes first. If I don't get into an apartment I don't know where I will live. Or how I will afford it. But an education takes priority, right?
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