The water is too hot. As this thought occurs to me, I am standing submerged to my shins in my bathtub. My mind is muddled, befuddled, and slow. It takes a second for me to truly comprehend that too hot really is way too hot. I leap out of the water, and find myself standing on the rim of the tub, watching as a rosy fire blossoms atop my feet. A hint of a smile plays on my lips as I silently chide myself. My mind really is out of sorts. My feet and shins tingling with annoyance, I once again step into the bath. Inch by inch I slowly lower my feet in, grimacing slightly as every new patch of flesh enters the cauldron. I stay that way for a while; sitting on the edge of the tub, letting my lower limbs slowly stew in the overheated water. In a way it is rather soothing. Closing my eyes, it’s easy to focus on the tingling. Minute shifts of my foot from side to side bring warmer water roiling in, supplanting the water I had become accustomed to. In a way, I muse, I am creating my own miniature lake, complete with currents. I’ve needed moments like this lately. Moments where I can interrupt my ever shifting mind, and simply exist for a while.
I pause here briefly to welcome you back, Dear Reader. Or more to the point, to welcome myself back. I started this blog in January with the noble and misguided intention to write up a new post for every Monday. I say noble, because I was trying to better my life. I say misguided, for it wasn’t true to who I am. For a while it worked; it added a splash of regularity and expectation to my otherwise chaotic and unfulfilling life. There were a couple of arbitrary restrictions on the blog: each had to be of a certain length, and each had to be uploaded every Monday. Those restrictions were intended to a sort of quality assurance; what I didn’t realize was that ultimately, I write these blogs for myself. The quality assured by those assurances was not a quality that I approved of. Many times, I found myself fretting on a Sunday night, trying for the life of me to write something, anything, to fill the blank page in front of me. By putting restrictions on it, I was effectively hindering myself. Many times, I had wanted to write a blog in the middle of the week, but put it off because I wasn’t “allowed” to. Of course, by the time Sunday would roll around, I was in no mood to write about whatever it was that had sparked my interest earlier that week.
That is why I find myself writing this now. It is not for you, Dear Reader, although I am enthused that you choose to read it. This is for myself. I write because this is the simplest and most honest way to express, to myself, what I am thinking. Truth be told, more often than not I’m thinking so many things, that I’m not really sure what, exactly, I feel about what I’m thinking. This situation builds, and builds, and builds, until I eventually hit a snapping point. I’ve had more and more of them of late, and that realization saddens me. I found myself wandering the park on Thursday night, and realized I was approaching one of these points. It was then I decided that I needed a release. I put a kibosh on the Internet. More to the point, I put the kibosh on sociality. I withdrew from Facebook and iChat, removing myself from two of my greatest platforms of connectivity. I segregated myself from the world, only using the computer to check my email, and work. I allowed myself to play Xbox, to Twitter occasionally, and to raid Ulduar with my guild. I allowed that last one because frankly, the raid won’t heal itself. I spent a lot of time thinking, pondering, and learning to stop worrying. Because that is certainly one of the earliest conclusions I came to: I worry too much.
So it is that I found myself perched on the side of the tub, lost in thought. It was early Saturday afternoon, and I felt a compulsion to take a bath. So I did. After sitting and thinking for long enough that my feet resembled lobsters, I continued to slide myself into the water, inch by inch turning my skin into a brilliant crimson. I sat in the tub, everything below mid-chest completely drowned in water. Diffused pain and tingling assaulted my body. This was a good place to pause, to concentrate. To accept the water for what it was. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, resting my head back on the tile wall.
I don’t know what I want. That is, ultimately, my problem in life. If you distilled all my previous whinings and bitchings, I’m pretty sure that is what the end product would be. I think that is what has stalled my hand, artistically. That is what causes me to worry. That is what leads me to focus intensely on the needs and desires of others. I don’t know what I want. It’s much easier to spend my time and energy helping others along, and providing for them, than it is to make a decision on my life. It makes me Jake. It’s how I make things better. I can see everyone else, and their life, so clearly. It’s frustrating that I can’t seem to see myself that way. I can do hard science. I can do art. Hell, I can even write. It really seems I could do anything I chose too; and that is the crux of my problem. I can see the potentially infinite amount of ramifications of those choices… I see far too many paths to take. Anyone who has gone to a restaurant with me and despaired over how long it takes me to decide on a dish to dine on will understand this. I don’t know what I want because I’m too cognizant of the future. I see how the similar decisions of others affect their life, for better and for worse… and I envy them for being able to charge forward. No matter how many times I try to build myself up to take that leap, at the end of the day, I find myself constantly asking, “What if?” That question stops me in my tracks, for I can answer it, and for the most part, I can see where my decisions will lead. I just don’t know which path to take. It has occurred to me lately that choosing any path would be better than not choosing to take a path at all. I need to take a risk, take a chance. Being wrong wouldn’t be the end of the world.
I open my eyes, and blink lazily as I stare at the ceiling. Despite the heat and the pain, I had started to nod off. Amusingly, my entire body is wet. While everything from mid-chest up has yet to meet the water, those body parts are still dripping. Sweat beads my shoulders and arms. I grin as I think to myself, “This must be what a sauna is like.” Crossing my legs, for I am far too long to fit my entire body in the tub otherwise, I slide further in. No inching forward, no hesitation this time. In one smooth motion, everything but my nose and mouth is underwater. I embrace the sudden shock as my skin cries out in distress. After a few moments, the pain is replaced by the now familiar tingling. Strangest of all are my hands; the tingling is far worse in them. The feeling is akin to the pins and needles one feels when a limb falls asleep. Bracing my legs against the tub, I force my buoyant body to the bottom. Totality is surprising. The tingling and pain diffuses outwards, and I feel no distress. I lay against the bottom of the tub until my lungs start to ache. I hold my breath until I fear I can no longer hold it; and then I hold it a slow five count longer. I allow myself to surface, and calmly and deliberately exhale. The only thing I can hear in the isolation of the water is the surrounding electric hum of the air conditioner. It’s soothing, like some sort of technological nursery rhyme. I float for a while, eyes closed, breath slow and steady, and I think some more.
In some things, I do know what I want. I may be completely stymied career-wise, but I know what I want in other things. I just need to have the courage to announce my intentions. That is another failing of mine; being open and honest with my feelings. Truthfully, for the most part, I assume no one cares. More to the point, why would they? But that is idiotic and patently false thinking. I need to work on my self-confidence. Not only am I decent looking, I’m worth loving. I’m handsome, sweet, generous, and kinda stable. Not to mention, I’m funny. Well, perhaps not during this blog. But I am in other blogs, and in day-to-day conversations. That goes for all relationships, platonic and romantic.
Hell, I am still young. It’s okay not to know what I want to do, or to know and not be able to do it. There are still many years ahead of me. This is just another example of me worrying overmuch. To counter this, I’m focusing on my writing. As for other things and desires, I shall let them develop as they may. I’m not going to let my worries and fears control me any longer.
I twist and pop open the drain with my toes. I slowly sit up as the water hurries along its’ way down the drain. My skin is a uniform ruddy color. With care, I stand and stretch, and then slide the shower curtain to close the space. With a slight twist of the knob, I find myself taking a nice, cool, brisk shower. The colder water sluices over my skin, alleviating the residual pain, and trading one kind of tingle for another. I have given myself a lot to think about, and it’s high time I went and wrote it down.
It has been ten weeks, and ten blogs, since I moved. So much happened during that time; and yet so much is not worth talking about in detail. For the first couple of weeks of this period of silence, I spent all my time going through orientation at work, and moving my stuff to Austin. The next couple of weeks were spent entertaining my dad, and then my mom at my new place, and putting my apartment to rights. I like where it is at now. Most of my tchotchkes and toys are still in boxes in my super roomy closet. I didn’t feel the need to place them out. Oh, don’t get me wrong, there are still more than enough out and about. But the majority find themselves on my cinderblock DVD shelf, forming a sort of geeky shrine to sci-fi and awesome. Most of my time beside that has been spent working. And reworking. And re-reworking. I’ve had precious little time to actually sit back and do stuff for myself. Mostly, I think, because part of me feels guilty for being able to doing so.
Clearly with the move, my previously well-established list of “life-affirming commitments” has changed. Amusingly, however, I did rather well in only six months. I had nine goals. I accomplished six of them outright, and made solid headway on two others. What did I accomplish? My new computer was built and now runs beautifully. It’s a beast, a monster. And I love it. It boots faster than my Apple. I finished and uploaded the newest version of my site. I like where it is. I have room to improve upon it, and there is nothing wrong with that. I designed, printed, and fell in love with my business card design. Laugh all you want, they are shiny, and that is really all I want. I started writing. I dabbled with my artwork, and came to the decision to let it go for a while. I accomplished this goal by not accomplishing it. How very Zen of me. And my diet is much better; I eat better and healthier, in an altogether more consistent fashion than before. Like my site, there is room for improvement, but again, nothing is wrong with that. As for which two of the three remaining I’ve made headway on, I’ll give you a hint. It’s not reapplying for college.
It was nice to have a set list of goals. A list of things that I wanted, that I needed. In fact, upon moving into my new place, I proudly put up a white board with two lists on it. List one is “Needs” which is now subtitled “Hmm… I don’t need for a lot. I can only assume this is GOOD.” This list is empty. The second list is entitled “EVIL Plan for bettering my life and living conditions”. This is a list of wants. As for what is on the list now? I desire a new computer desk, a new TV, a new couch, and a new table. I plan to upgrade my cooking skills. I plan to finish my lightsaber and have it made. I plan to exercise more. I plan to meet more Austinites as well. Austineers? Austinians? How does one refer to the denizens of Austin?
That Evil list is my current list of attainable goals. As you can see, there is really nothing too out there on that list. The list is also accompanied by what I think of as a charming stick figure picture. Those goals on that list are for myself. That is where I am headed for the time being. But I would not be Jake if I weren’t working on at least seventy other things.
Which brings me to my projects. I currently have three projects in development. Project “Zed Zephyr” is ultra extra top secret, a level of secrecy that I haven’t employed since the Bothans tried to sneak out the Death Star plans. And we all know how well that turned out. The second project is Project “Would You Kindly…”, which is a pair of pants themed after the delightful world of Bioshock. The last project is Project “Web Wrangler”, and it is not my tale to tell. However, it is something that will be in my portfolio upon completion. The first of these projects is entirely personal, and the other two are labors of love. One and two; not much of a balance. So I would like to announce the start of a fourth project. Project “Showtime Singularity”. This project will be the collection and display of my artwork on my website. It has been a pie-in-the-sky wish of mine for ages, one that I’ve never even attempted to make headway on. It is about time to display and reveal myself, for better or for worse.
I feel that this is a verbose enough return for me. I’m not sure exactly what the point of this blog is. But then, I never really do know. Go go Gadget uninhibited expression! I suppose that is ultimately the point of this. Find your own meaning, Dear Reader. As for the future, I do not know when the next blog post will arrive. I’m no longer forcing myself to stick to a schedule; let us find out, you and I, what happens when I write when I feel like writing. Length will not be a constant any longer either; while this monster is over two thousand six hundred words, subsequent blogs will likely be much shorter. But don’t take that for granted, because knowing me, I’ll get it in my head to out-do this one day. As for subjects and considerations, anything goes. If you have not done so already, please friend me on Facebook, Dear Reader, and remember to follow me on Twitter @Chiron7936. Until later!