July 23, 2005 – Saturday
“My parents thought my room would have to be moved downstairs, but thankfully it didn’t. It would have killed a piece of me had I caused others to bend.”
I wrote that a while ago, and that ‘bend’ factor has been eating away at me. Understatement to say the least! There, I said I didn’t want to trouble my parents by moving my junk. That’s OBSCENELY played down compared to what Mom and Dad have faced. I can imagine the stress they faced, but I don’t like to think about that. Mom, she said the family would sit in the UMass waiting room for a sick amount of time. She said she couldn’t even read, and instead would stare at a little window on the door, waiting for a doctor to arrive. Minutes must have felt like hours, but again, I don’t like to think about that. Speaking of time, the November visitors only got to see me for a couple minutes. That’s an ICU for ya. However, I’m trying to make their lives easier, for what it’s worth.
I asked Justin what his November experience was. He sighed, gave me a look that said enough, and said that our parents couldn’t even care about his smoking habit with all the commotion. I’ve heard enough about Allyson, and I can’t scold a fighter who “tried so hard.” She lost weight, heh, and cried her eyes out hearing anything about how I might come out of this. Believe me, I’ve asked about her sobbing enough, not to mention that she didn’t listen to anyone when they said to leave me because she wouldn’t want to have to go through this. My guy friends, they all had to focus on something else, and I made them bend in that they didn’t even like to think about me. Would you care to wonder if my cranial pressure was stoic? No, they’ve gotten the message that we need to move on, with one friend going to France, and one getting his Master’s. That’s great news, and I hope I’ve sent the message that things aren’t going to be the same.
I’ve made my parents bend enough. I don’t recall any events from November or December, but I do remember they’d visit me each night, and I didn’t thank them because I didn’t know the scope of my accident like I can now. I do remember, Mom, she actually stayed over one night, sleeping on a mattress. She took a friggin’ leave of absence from her job teaching. She had to write a damn letter to the Superintendent that her son was in the ICU, and his TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) wouldn’t be recovered for a year. Yikes. I remember each night, even while I was in a wheelchair, I’d go into their “gym” to play some catch with Dad. I appreciate all of that, and I’d like you to keep in mind that my high spirits and successful outcome are largely due to their fine parenting.
Speaking of family, my uncle Andy came to visit me a lot, and now he’s now kind enough to read my junk and let me swim, pee, and get some sun HAH kidding, in his pool. My cousin Danny, he’s been a standup fellow, and to continue with cousins, my ‘cuz’ David drove me around and got some food with me last week. His sister, Lisa, she really showed she’s there by entertaining a scandalous request. There’re a SLEW of other family chips of kindness, and I can’t get to them all. I apologize, and I’m sorry to say, but I would have lost some connections with the way I slacked off. Don’t underestimate your relatives!
I’ve caused a lot of trouble, and I’d like to think that my dweebie, website nature means something to you. I write this for you to read when I could, uh, do something else. But, this is important to me, and I know it’s necessary that I get out a finely crafted, public message at this exciting time in my life. I’m not letting anything pass me by, and a large chunk of that valued living is, to get sappy on you, bonding with others and valuing the relationships I have. I’m never going to let another friendship’s worth be squandered. But speaking of the website, I have a hell of a lot more people reading this than I would have thought. Every now and then, someone mentions it or I get an email. I’m flattered.
Getting back, I’ve caused more trouble than I’d like to admit to myself. I’ve caused a ruckus, but that really is some of the slave-massa’s whipping I’ll need to live a fine life. I bet you’ve sat in your chair, and thought, “Know what, he’s going to be alright. I think he’s going to be fine. Just fine.” That makes me smile, and I know I’ll let down a lot of people if I screw up. I’m not drinking, I’m “keeping my head up,” and I’m definitely thinking about all the people I’d disappoint if I go astray. Considering everything, I am a good boy. Concerning you, well, I’m not exactly out into the real world yet, but I hope to hold onto the shiny ideals I brag about. That and you haven’t seen the fully recovered Me yet.
If I called you up, you’d offer me a ride or volunteer whatever you could help me with. I’m not happy about my disabled position in life, but you’d give me a hand with whatever, let’s be honest. I could, but I won’t make you “bend” any more than you already have. I’d like to make it up to you, but said position in life isn’t going to let that happen. I’m not happy about it, but I haven’t had anyone tell me, “make me a fucking mix CD, or I ain’t pickin’ your ass up.” Guys, I’m not crippled, but I’d ask you to please, please give me more one-dollar bills when I see a pretty girl dancing. Let’s keep up that habit. Eh, eh? Kidding.
I had dinner with an older couple who saw me in the ICU. They’re good friends with my parents, and we went out to dinner. Seated, we were chatting about my early November days, and they said they cried the whole damn way home when they left the hospital. That’s intense, and I know it’s just the start of how I caused the various people in my life to feel that pain, that pity, and the knowing I’ve wasted so much potential. Not just that, but some people have been wishing they smacked me around a little, and tried to shape me up. Sorry.
I’m being a good boy, I promise. I’m really behaving, for the first time in my life, har har har. So, I’m being good, recovering, staying busy, and planning my future. I’m sad to say, but I need some effingreal, monetary success to make up for my bad boy behavior.
Allow me to segue into my life being now different. Now different that I’m not fully recovered, and taking this sweet time to analyze where I’m taking my life. I’ve said that I know what I want, but that isn’t exactly true. I know what I don’t want, which some of I’d drooled over in the past. I’ve said that I’m the same, but that isn’t exactly true. However, for all intents and purposes, my differences don’t concern you, if that makes sense (?). I’m not as concerned with luxury, entertainment, or possessions and I don’t see that affecting YOU that much.
My life is going to be different than what you had thought it would turn out to be. First off, I’m not with Allyson, and her absence leaves me wondering what I really want in a woman, you know, where I’ll want her to take me. That and I don’t drink. The absence of sex and alcohol are getting to me, if you can’t tell. Ha! So, I really don’t know what I want, and with the reborn feel to my life, it’s going to be crucial who I befriend in years to come. I’m not done with school, haven’t taken the jump of marriage, and I’ve got ties in my life, NONE. My days are going to be different than what was predicted, but that’s a good thing. I didn’t like the way I saw the world. I didn’t have a nice grip, and I like to think the way I now see everything is going to outweigh my many, many bang-up’s.
If you think I’m turning my life around, uh fuck you. I’m doing a lot of very, very, very fine tuning, and I don’t expect you to understand my reborn thoughts on how I’ve been living. I’m the same person, I am, but I know enough to drop the little things. The little things, like racism and sexism. Ha, little! That and I’m a little more, *angels sing* a little more spiritual. I’m not running to Israel, but I know enough to live a CLEAN life. You can’t say the same, but I don’t want that to misconstrue me as an abortion basher.
I recently wrote a letter to a clergyman who prayed over me, and I wrote how I never used to think he was on the same level as someone like me. I thought he’d send me to Hell for chewing gum and silly things like that. I remember listening to a Q&A with Kevin Smith, and he was saying something like, “he dug the faith too, and that’s cool, so we…” Is that allowed to be cool? I guess it’s cool if Kevin Smith says it is. I always blew off the Jesus jabber, and I’d like to think that I’ve got my head on straight for what I’ll need out of life. In fear of appearing *angels sing* different, I’m going to leave my Holy thoughts out of the picture. I’ll just let you know that I’m living a good life, plain and simple.
For my professional interests, the Associate’s Degree is going to be expanded upon, either through Management Information Science or straight Computer Science. I’ve taken a liking to computers enough so that my pre-2000 summer days were filled with a disgusting amount of hacking. I’ve always felt fortunate in that a personal interest would develop to an occupation, bringing in the cash. I’m going to take a couple writing classes to see if there’s any potential in this newfound interest. I’m getting in some practice right now, but I know it isn’t going to amount to more than anything of a hobby. I won’t be bringing in the cash with my words, and I know enough that it doesn’t hold any more value than a leisure pursuit.
I entertain the idea of moving to another part of the world, gasp. I’ll simply move if I take a liking to a certain country because I know that throwing your life off can be a great thing. Speaking of which, and I don’t want to alarm any women, but I’m looking forward to the next point where life becomes too comfortable, resulting in a sudden change of environment. I can say that now, with not much tying me down, but I hope I read this when I’m bored and “dead inside;” When I read this, being too contented with my predictable life, I hope to one day again let the chips fall where they may, like suddenly to a destination I dream of.
As far as other countries, there’s no location that stands out. Assuming there will be, I know I’ll regret a decision not to. I have so many regrets of what I never did. It’s a reason I’m looking into Philadelphia, a place I’ve only been to (and enjoyed) once and have no friends or relatives living there. Maybe I’m cocky, but I like new surroundings and new people, all of course assuming my urban hopes fair well. Considering the fat stack of chips I have on my Boston card, well, I don’t think it’s going to erupt. It would KILL me if I couldn’t make it in the city this time around.
Oh, and girls. Allyson’s position will be filled, hopefully soon. Frankly, I don’t know what I’m looking for in a woman. I used to, but I won’t make a prediction with this life-changing experience, and I definitely won’t with this now in print. Personality has such a wide spectrum that I shouldn’t guess, and the same with ethnicity. One thing I know is that she won’t be black. Hah! Yeah, heh, I’m sorry, but it’s true. Women loosely translates to children, and I used to tell my girlfriend that I would never, ever have any children with her. She loved that resistant behavior, like she had to work at me, but I really don’t know what I want as far as children because I don’t even know what I’m looking for in a woman I’ll spend my life with. Silicone is a luxury, and I’ll certainly pay for it. Zing!
I’d rather make just enough money doing something I enjoy than making a sick amount of cash doing something I hate. Quite oddly, the variable of wealth won’t be the final decision of what I choose to do, I think. HAH, I don’t really know, but I do know that I’m going to be highly influenced by any upcoming friendships. I’m taking this time to figure out what I really want, and I’m actually making a list of lifelong dreams. You can’t commit to that same planning, but to someone who values life more than you, it’s not hard.
My thoughts on death are different, if possible. That line, “he who dies with the most toys wins” is just childish. I want to have a lot that’s going to make me smile when I look back on it, and that’s a reason why I write so much. I want to have memorable souvenirs too. I need to live a full life, getting the most I can, and that isn’t going to change. I’d like to have an enormous set of photographs I can look back on, reminiscing when I stand at death’s door. I try to live without regrets, and that should serve me well with women. Death specifically, I know where I’m going, and I’m almost looking forward to it.
Continuing into death itself, I’d like to see just where I’d end up if I didn’t crash my car. I’d like to see that life because I think it would make me smile for being where I am now. It’s something I kindaexpect, and that just gives me some motivation to live my best. Delving further into death, I almost expect to come back to Earth one day, you know, reincarnation. I’ve no explanation, but I think this is the physical side of the afterlife. Oh, and I want a nice tombstone.
Jeffrey Marquis of alwayschillen . . .