Luke is back in Pittsburgh - Izzy's grandfather died. "It's no shocker," of course. He was ninety-two. "You have a viscous dream and have a heart attack," Luke says. I met him for coffee today. It's a bright blue day - the sun backlights the bedroom curtains and waking up is a delight. A row of black stitches creases Luke's thumb. He singed the ends of the stitches with a lighter last night.
Though a bit nervous, as company arises a certain self-awareness and awkward tension - I am doing my best to ease my nerves. The tapes tell me to change my perspective on socialization by experiencing social situations differently. So I sit back, take a breath, and do my best to entertain Luke - and be entertained by his wit. "The fattest guy sat next to me on the bus. People like that should have to buy two tickets. He was like two inches over the seat. But I smoked a spliff before I got on the bus and passed out."
Waking has been pleasant for the past few days. And each morning, I've been made aware, somehow, the tapes of my past are playing back to me. The past is dangerous, as we often project our current emotional states on our memories. If we're feeling miserable or anxious, we will pull memories that support this sort-of self loathing. But these memories - they are ringing true. Not viewed through a lens of self-hatred.
I am trying to understand myself. That is, knowing how I got here is helpful to assess why I am who I am. I do believe there are certain characteristics embedded in our persons. We have habits that were born from a predestination of genetics or experience that we fail to recall. I had gotten into the habit of blaming myself for being quite asocial. "Why am I not surrounded by friends - by smiling visages." Well, I have forgotten - I have never been the type of person to have a vast social network. I have acquired friends here and there - but always a singular friend. Jason Williams in middle school. Joe Hlasnick a few years later. Scott Neuner following. Then I dated Megan for a year. Then I was friends with Bethany. Then I was alone. I saw this lineage clearly - and I can choose to blame myself for this. "You should have had more friends!" But then, who is to say a right and wrong way to go about living. I still cringe at the idea of 'solitude', and yesterday, it became difficult, walking around the city alone, no one at my side, when so many others were flanked by smiling friends. Ah! But why should I be at odds with myself? I will accept - or I will try like hell to accept myself. Ayn Rand writes that the individual is the superior concern in "The Virtue of Selfishness". I do agree to a certain extend - mental health is a priority. But people are also social creatures to a certain extent - and happiness is rare when not shared. So there is a certain contradiction in my understand of my own path to happiness. Hopefully this writing will help to unknot these opinions. But in the meantime, I will try to accept myself and love those around me.