CrazyJohn on Belonging (Subtitled: The reason why I'm crying or the most depressing car trip of my life)-
Well kiddies... I don't know how to start this, so I guess I'll just say that it's 4 in the morning and I'm normally depressed when tired. Also, I've spent about 7 hours in the car today, so I've had plenty of time to think. Also, I saw an existentialist play about Hell and Damnation... so I've already been thinking a lot about life and life's meaning, purpose, personal decisions, and so on.

I hate this city. It only took me leaving the city for me to realize how much I hate it. A trip to Madison reveals to me how much better a town can feel... how great a vibe a college town can have over a huge metropolis. A trip to Big Rapids showed me how much I like being able to drive around a city... and how I don't like having my whole day consist of one mile of land... I like being able to drive around and feel like I'm covering some actual physical ground in my day. And a trip to Albion reminded me how much I miss having people know who the hell I am. Just having people be able to recognize me as "John" or "that guy from the Euphonics who made fun sounds"... it made me feel like I actually mean something... like I'm not just one of the faceless masses of a big city, but someone who's worth knowing. It's so easy to loose yourself with so many people... what makes me different from the guy asking me for change? What makes me different from the woman I pass on the street? I have no idea... they don't mean anything to me and I nothing to them. But, in a small town, people know you... you have a place... you're needed, wanted, important to that community. Albion was the last place I felt like I belonged... like I had a place where I was wanted and needed... where I felt like people would say "Man, I wish John was here" if I wasn't.
I don't belong in Chicago... and I doubt I'll ever feel wanted or needed in a city this big. So I went home over Thanksgiving... thinking that Big Rapids would be a place where I could feel that I belonged again. It wasn't. My parents are different... on a weird diet... working more and more and spending less and less time at home. And, what's worse, is that I can tell they don't want me there. Don't get me wrong, I know they love me... but I honestly think that they wouldn't want me to be there with them. They think I belong somewhere else, doing something else... and I can tell that I don't belong in my own house (Sidenote: If I have to listen to one more person say something like "well... you need to do your own thing" I'm going to lose it. You have NO IDEA what "my thing" is... because neither do I... so just fucking drop it). So I went to Albion today, figuring that it might feel enough like it did only 6 short months ago that I would get some of that "belonging" feeling back. But no. There are new people who I don't know... and everybody talks about things that don't involve me, and "that time" when something great happened and they all know about it except for me. No... life at Albion has moved on without me... just like in Satre's "No Exit" when the characters have been forgotten by the living and they can no longer see the Earth.
And I don't even know how to reconnect with anyone. The first question is always "How are you? How are things going in Chicago?", and I can't even be honest about that. The dishonest easy answer is "fine... I'm working on it" (which is partially true, as I am working on it, whether I want to or not). No one wants the REAL answer to that question, anyway... it would be too awkward. "Shitty, actually. I hate my life right now... I hate what I'm doing, I can't see the purpose to it, or anything for that matter... and it was only in early November when I was thinking about killing myself again." Kablamo... that would hit them like a ton of bricks, wouldn't it? And I have my doubts about actually posting this... as I may or may not become inundated with "maybe you should get some help" or pity... or something. And I don't need help, and I certainly don't want pity... or special treatment... or anything. That fact is that I just daydreamed about killing myself... how I could do it... whether jumping out of my window would kill me or just really fuck me up and then I'd balance whether or not it was better to be dead or just fucked up in a hospital... or I thought about cutting myself, but I really don't like knifes and I have a feeling I'd somehow mess it up and not cut deep enough or something... and I thought about giving a bum money to kill me somehow and make it look like a robbery, and then I'd get the whole "just such a tragic and senseless death" angle, which would be my sadistic and perverted way of making people remember me only in a positive light...
But, honestly, who hasn't thought about killing themselves? Everyone went through that phase in High School when they felt like it'd be better if they were dead... And last December was the first time I had thought about it since High School... but the thinking about it always ends the same way: 1) I love the people I care about too much for them to go through the pain; 2) I've always thought suicide was a "weak" approach to ones problems... and I have a fixation with always doing whatever will make me "stronger"; 3) I'm just too big of a wuss to actually go through with it.
Does this stop me from thinking about it? No... not at all... but I don't think about it all the time, either. It's just certain things that happen that make you think about it more often. For me, happiness doesn't come easily... so when I feel genuinely happy, and then that happiness is stripped away, it's easy for me to believe that I won't be happy again.
Currently, I've been struggling with finding a purpose to my existence. Questions like: What's the most important thing I can do? How can I make my mark on this world? How can I not waste the opportunity that is life? just plague my subconscious. I don't just want to be one of the faceless masses I walk past on the street everyday... I want my life to have MEANT something.
So I think about how I can achieve that goal. And, as I focus my search, I think about what I can do: I can make people laugh... and I hope to God that I can make people think. And, to me, that's a worthy existence. Here's the catch... I'm not doing that now. I'm here, in Chicago, not doing what I want to do... I've got these hoops to jump through, like Courtney, or Nick... I can see how I want to make a difference, but I can't get there yet. And, when I couldn't find a job... I just felt like such a burden to everyone I loved. So I'm left thinking "My life is currently without purpose and is, in this city, insignificant. So... what's better? A purposeless, insignificant existence or no existence at all?" And, honestly, I think the advantage is push... it could go either way.
And, another reason why you can't be THAT honest when people ask you how you're doing, is that chicks don't dig depressed guys. No one digs someone who's depressed... it's not sexy. Confidence is sexy... depression is lame. And, really, what's more important? Being honest about your feelings with people? or getting chicks?
Chicks! Obviously! I really miss having a girlfriend. Someone who give instant gratification to questions of purpose or significance because, to them, you are very significant. But, this whole "relationship" thing harkens back to a huge correlation between woman and importance that I created when I was younger... which I'm not going to go into... but it basically consists of having a woman validate your value as a human being... and I really don't want to go into it.

Didn't expect to see something like this, did you? Expected to see something about how I surprised old friends at Albion and had some laughs? Yeah... well... I am glad I went. The play was excellent... and I'm very proud of the director, stage manager, and actors. And it was nice to say hello to people, even though most of my conversations were about twenty seconds... and no one (ok... a single person) asked me what I was actually doing in my classes. It's like they all thought I was doing the same shit that you see on Saturday Night Live or at the actual Second City show. No... what I'm doing is FAR more boring than that. I did, almost, have a good conversation with an androgenously named person (a Miss Mann), but we kept getting interrupted by this or that... and the conversation never really panned out. I would have really liked to be able to stay longer than I did... but it was like "yeah... it's cool that you're here, but I've got so much work to do"... and I would just end up getting in the way.
Right... so... I'm really tired and the caffeine is starting to wear off... so I think I'm going to bed. I just wish that I had something to dream about...