Revisionist History

We are all victims of revisionist history, to some extent. It could be a friend that remembers things a bit differently than the way you do, or a parent who refuses to admit to mistakes made. Regardless of the instance, being a part of something like that, that you believe to be incorrect, stings. It stings because, in your heart, you know that things played out differently. See, but then the certainty becomes supposition. “Are they right about what they are saying?”. “I couldn’t have really been like that, could I?” Admittedly, we can’t be aware of every little thing that we do, over the course of the day, or we would not be as productive but, with your certainty wavering, you start wanting to comb through the different situations in order to pinpoint the error of your ways or to challenge the assertion that has been made against you. Mind you, you only care about this because you care about the person stating their issue. Had this been any old nobody, a bit player in your grand overture, you would barely bat an eyelash. But it burns when it’s someone you care for. It hurts because you just want that person to be happy with you and since they clearly are not, there is a growing discomfort.

This is where it gets interesting. Because you assess the situation and you start remembering instances that were mentioned in the grievance(s). In the moment of hearing these issues, your mind races to situate yourself, within the turbulence. There are instinctive emotional pivots that you know that you can rely on, but that can also complicate the situation further. You’re very aware of this. So you reject the option to go in that direction. You start scanning for other alternatives. “It’s important that I handle this correctly”, you say to yourself. Not even realizing that you’re saying it. So you try to acknowledge the issues that the other person is having while attempting to clarify your side. It doesn’t work. There are more examples that start flying in your direction, like the rubber bands that your older brother used to shoot at you, as a kid. It stings. And it’s frustrating. And you’re powerless. Weakened by the gripe of an important person. Hurt by the inability to make it right. Damaged by the aftermath. You know that the truth is being skewed because the totality of the situation is not being addressed, merely small moments. Moments that, by themselves mean different things without the sum of all the parts but to make that thought known is going to cause another problem. There’s no way out, beyond resignation.

As you wake up, in the following days, you go about your business as usual, on the surface, all the while being frustrated with the outcome. Sad about the current state of affairs. You start to formulate arguments, in your mind, that make large amounts of sense which, when you think about the arguments of the opposition and how lopsided it all was, makes you annoyed. Part of that annoyance stems from the fact that you’ve finally realized things for yourself but you know that revisiting the issue will only lead to another confrontation. It’s too late. You also know that allowing things to remain the way they are is tantamount to admitting guilt. “I’m not guilty…not THAT guilty”. You come to realize that the situation is unresolvable and this is probably the most crushing part because you’ve grown to believe that you can fix anything if you have enough understanding. The problem, in this instance, is that you don’t really fully comprehend what is happening. No fix. It becomes apparent that space is needed but that kind of space scares you.  “People don’t usually come back from that kind of space…not to me, they don’t…” That’s part of the reason that you isolate yourself. This is the reason you don’t let them in. It’s always hurt so much to see them go because you knew that you weren’t getting them back. “They will understand, someday”, you say. But will they, really? You don’t believe in poetic justice and, with that being said, you can’t convince yourself that things will smoothe out. There is so much going on in your life though. You can’t despair. You won’t. No. Not like last time. You’ve developed thicker skin. However, you do start to wonder if all of this “thick skin” is turning you into a person that you won’t recognize, before long. You understand that you have to deal with the hurt. Not push it aside. Because it will fester. Mutate. Become something worse than what it is. So you stand, looking out of the window as the sun rises anew. On the precipice of a new day. And you hurt…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feelings that I feel

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Amber – Nils Frahm

Press play and enjoy!

 

I am a mixture of emotions, below the surface of a stoic exterior… I could easily throw these individual feelings into categories that are all too familiar to us, but I believe that they deserve more respect than a mere assumption. My soul percolates, in search of what it all means, to me. “What are these feelings that I feel? They can’t all be the same 4 or 5 that I always hear about”. The complexity of that search is so enjoyable. It’s also one that requires time and patience, the latter of which I am trying to further cultivate. I liken the search, through the prism of my emotions, to the photography that I have been interested in, for years, by a man named Alan Jaras. Alan developed the technique of Lensless Photography using light, a camera body and a refractive object to form ‘Refractographs’ directly on to film. It’s his explanation of that technique that has my attention:

 

“I have always been fascinated in visualising the invisible. After a long career in industrial scientific research using optical and electron microscopy to image the microscopic world I now explore the strange and wonderful world of the refraction patterns of light.  Working with glass, plastics and resins I capture these unique patterns formed by a single static beam of light after it passes through the complex transparent objects that I create.”

 

It sounds scientific and, undoubtedly, it is but there’s something beautiful in the way that he describes the light and the result of it, passing through the object that he creates. “Vizualizing the invisible”…Man, what a concept. I look inward, at the images that circulate through my subconscious, and I see layers. Layers of my mind and the different things that I can possibly be feeling. My thoughts are certainly less scientific than what Mr. Jaras explained but I want to understand the invisible, rather than “visualizing” it. Learning about those intricacies is such an adventure. The possibilities are endless and the results can, and will, affect your whole world. I am a mixture of emotions, below the surface of a stoic exterior…

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I’ve tended to look inward, a lot, over the past few years. The writing that I do, in that book, every day has been a major catalyst in the process. There is a lot of mental debris but I find ways to navigate and find the clearings. I was incapable of even thinking about a statement like that, a few years ago, but I am a new person today. I recently found out that Rocio got engaged. That’s huge. I saw it and I thought to myself “Oh shit!”…I searched inward for the rest of the emotions that surely were trailing right behind, but there was nothing. No anger, no jealousy, not an ounce of resentment. I’m happy for her and for that guy. I really hope that it works out. I asked my brother about his past relationships, namely one in particular, and I wanted to know if he still thinks about them. He does. Everyone does, to an extent. I do too, but it’s changed. I used to have this nostalgia about what was. Stuck in the self-created euphoria of my past love, all the while ignoring the fact that there are always two sides to a coin…It wasn’t always love. There was a lot of hate. A lot of negativity. A lot of pointless situations that we could have both done without. Overreactions from both sides. If all of that is taken into context, then I get to where I am now, which is content with the result. Plus, I am in such a better situation that it’s ridiculous. When that whole thing ended, I was really down because I was not able to get closure on it, in a way that I felt comfortable with. It was refused, to me. It haunted me for years. I am no longer in need of any validation from that situation or that time in my life. I am ready to lift-off. I have done my penance.To myself. And now, I am done with that.I told myself over and over that I wouldn’t allow that situation to define who I am as a person. It was the starting block to my story, for a while. I clung to it, as though the pain was somehow symbiotic, but no. No. This blog started on account of that part of my life but it was never meant to be sustained as such. I am ready to take a transformational step. I thought that I was ready for a while but I was not. My heart and mind are lighter, these days. Other hardships are coming, let’s not act like they aren’t. The positive in that? I can now have a much clearer head, to take on those coming issues. Whatever they are. Stephan is here. And the fire burns fierce.

Friends…?

friend
frend/
noun
plural noun: friends; plural noun: Friends
  1. 1.
    a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.

 

That’s what the dictionary says that word is supposed to mean but when everyone has their own, proper, definition for it, which version of that word do I select? See, here’s the thing, I’ve always had a weird relationship with that word because I’ve always felt a step away from inclusion. No blaming here. I’m well aware that this could, and probably is, solely on me and I think that I have done alright despite whatever my issues are. I would definitely need that objective viewpoint, in order to get the real picture of things, though. I have had people tell me things like we “don’t need to be in constant contact in order to be friends”, and I believe that, 100%. You know, life happens a million miles per second and if we look around for the others, we’ll miss it. I’ve got that part. It’s just…if neither of us is willing to extend a hand to the other, in order to keep contact, are we “friends”? What exactly are we clinging to? In this day, and age, silence speaks in a deafening baritone. There’s no good reason that you can give me for not getting in touch with your “friend”, with every option at our disposal, so I don’t want to hear that bullshit about “Y’know, time man”, or “I forgot”, “I been working crazy hours”. Nah, Sorry. The relevance of those words are only good for so long. Be real and call some of the folks by their real names: Acquaintances. It’s not that bad. I’m pretty sure that if all of the acquaintances actually knew that they were acquaintances, they would be okay with it. There’s a certain amount of sweetness in being unapologetically honest about the status of relationships…but we’re afraid…afraid to shake the ground that we believe that we stand so firmly on. The truth is that the ground is constantly shaking beneath you, you simply may not feel it, as much, from time to time.