Chris (mojonixon) wrote,

1234 Somethin' new!

I'm writing this entry as a final and futile attempt to organize (or at the very least express) the thoughts I'm feeling right now. Granted, although there are about a thousand of them jousting their way to the front of the good'ol cortex, I at least want to give some of them their proper due. So without anymore superflous attempts at sounding intellectual, witty, artsy, European, whatever, I give you my newest nugget of joy in 257 weeks of living:

Worm Holes, Manic Depressives, and Your Bitchassness

Christopher G. Peña

"You know, some people say life is short and that you could get hit by a bus at any moment and that you have to live each day like it's your last. Bullshit. Life is long. You're probably not gonna get hit by a bus. And you're gonna have to live with the choices you make for the next fifty years."---Chris Rock

Although I was never diagnosed as a manic depressive, it almost feels as if I end up going that route in some way or another. This moment, as x approaches 2:25 AM on Tuesday--May 19th--2009, I'm swept with this trinormous wave of depression. Depression for trying to deal with the fact that I'm making a futile attempt at reliving the past via this website. Depression for leaving my family for the first time in my entire life. Depression for kissing San Antonio---and everything that it meant to me (both good & bad)---goodbye.

I guess you could say I'm terrible at letting go. For me, saying goodbye is the equivalent of playing charades with a quadriplegic: futile, embarassing, and downright hilarious! It's funny how when I browse my older entries, I read nothing but complaints about wanting to get the shit out of SA. In retrospect, I guess that complaining is easy and fun to do when you are a college student, have pretty much everything paid for and neednot worry about adult-hood. That's the beauty of college, you have every excuse to daydream and bullshit without society's bitchassness coming down on you. (more on Bitchassness later)

Unfortunately, life happens, worm holes happen (more on those later), and you are left sitting at your computer at 2:45AM typing on live-fucking journal. Haha live-fucking journal. Anyways, my reasoning behind pointing the contradiction between my past feelings and current feelings is to illustrate that I've grown up somewhat. I pay bills now, and it fucking blows. I pay my own car insurance, and it fucking blows. I'm going to graduate school in Dallas, and that city blows. So because of this "growing up" that I've done within the past 257 weeks, I realize now how every decision I make will cause some serious ripple in the future affecting myself, my beautiful girlfriend Lilly (shout out :D), and the rest of my loved ones.

That too also fucking blows.

Why? Because of the doubts and uncertainties I feel if none of this works out. What if grad school sucks? What if a family member dies while I'm in Dallas? What if Obama is shot in Dallas, resulting in Texas seceeding from the US, then engages in war with Canada, and is subsequently bombed for their overall bitchassness (more on bitchaness later) by the United States? It's all too much!

Hyperbole aside, I honestly don't know whether or not this grad school thing is the right fit for me. A wormhole took me to that decision, so the decision itself cannot be trusted in my eyes. Before you ask:

In physics, a wormhole is a hypothetical topological feature of spacetime that is fundamentally a 'shortcut' through space and time. Spacetime can be viewed as a 2D surface (to simplify understanding) that, when 'folded' over, allows the formation of a wormhole bridge. A wormhole has at least two mouths that are connected to a single throat or tube. If the wormhole is traversable, matter can 'travel' from one mouth to the other by passing through the throat. While there is no observational evidence for wormholes, spacetimes containing wormholes are known to be valid solutions in general relativity.--from "Wormhole" def. on Wikipedia

Have you seen the movie Contact? You know that part where Jodie Foster is in the space machine, and she flies really fast (kinda while on an acid trip) and ends up talking with a holographic image of her father before returning to earth? It was all recorded in about like 8 seconds of Earth time, but relative to her it was like 16 hours? That's what I feel these past 257 weeks have been like. I've been on a wild ride through space and time, experiencing beauty, pain, joy, Facebook, Panda Express, and halographic images of your mom! All of a sudden, my joyride ends and I am warped into the present time and it feels as if no time has gone by at all. Worse, I don't even know my motives for half the things I'm doing right now. Everything just went by so fast!

(more later, time for bed)
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