October 23rd, 2006
116229820956414708
Things well-practiced and new
I think that Final Fantasy VII has some of the best music in the series. Tifa’s pieces in particular are so full of angst and bittersweet reflection that I never tire listening to them. The piano arrangements are exceptionally moving. I hear these dulcet notes of beautiful regret and I cannot help but see my life with gentle acquiescence.
I am going home, currently off the southern coast of Alaska. Four weeks ago I thought that I’d be hitching now, working my way northwest for a week of solitude. But uncharacteristically, or maybe in a way long forgotten, I made an impulsive decision and now I’m following through with it. I didn’t plan on visiting America this year. I was just in the States for Brandon’s wedding last October, and my ten-year high school reunion is next May. Mom thinks it’s partly because of what happened to Randy, that I had the gut feeling that time was scant and I should be home if I could. I haven’t traveled inside Japan but once last winter to see Rodney before he moved, though I’ve already met my quota of two overseas trips this year, Seoul and Paris. There’s little left to go home to in Kyoto, all my friends are estranged.
I guess I can’t really say why I’m going home, except that maybe I’m tired, which is silly because the flight to America is incredibly taxing. I’d do much better to spend a week at home in Tokyo, but if I did I don’t think that I’d feel like I got anything at all done. I’m so exhausted from Tokyo right now. So much emotional stress this year, so many near breakdowns. However, it remains to be seen how restful this vacation will be. I have to check my email twice daily, and as I write this, above in the overhead compartment is my laptop and a several thousand dollar game development kit in case I need to debug my engine this week. Hardly a restful state of mind…
…
What am I doing here? Am I happy? Is this as happy as anyone gets to be in their life? Why am I doing this? Why am I here? Why am I doing this? Do I do my job because I love it, or because I’m afraid I couldn’t do anything else? I’m scared, is that it? I’ve always had another ring in plain sight to reach up for, and now there’s nothing, and the one I’m on is killing me, or, more exactly I’m killing myself because of it. I only have vague ideas of what I want… and honestly, could anything else be as fulfilling? What I need is money to pay bills, what I need is time. The time to find myself again, or maybe for the first time. I think there are a lot of good things in me, things that may become beautiful. How can I make those things my life? Nothing is going to be a sure bet, or maybe even hold a lot of promise. But I’m not going to get any stronger or younger waiting for it to present itself to me. Maybe I don’t take anything seriously because I’m afraid of losing. If I never really devote myself to something, I don’t have to worry about it wrecking me when I lose. What do you want to be? I’m so tired and have lost faith in so many things, I don’t even know anymore. I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything is junk food and masturbation. I hate seeing myself in the mirror, I used to love it. I hate the way I look: always tired, pale, and older than I should.
I thought I wanted to make people happy. And I still do. But there is another way. There have to be many other ways.
I need to learn. I need to be in an environment where learning is the crux of what I do. Books, manuals, examples, libraries…
[I hate when I start sounding like every other blog out there. We all have similiar problems. It makes me feel less special, less advanced. If I can't solve the same rudimentary problems that plague two-thirds of Americans, how can I expect to master anything advanced that I can really be proud of?]
