i’m da man

the head honcho for our company asked me to fix his PDA. Seems that it has an infrared device that allows him to export files from the PDA to a desktop computer, so that he can interchange the information when he needs to. I had attempted to, and got as far as, getting the software functioning properly for back-ups on non-used machine (he said it was crashing on him all the time when he attempted to do it on three different machines).

I spent the better part of my day yesterday researching the stupid thing: downloading the pdf manual of the PDA, reading the instructions for the infrared device and attempting to track down a human at sharp. majority of it ended in vain as i wasn’t able to get very far in my research. the phone numbers by sharp for an ‘authorized’ dealer were actually to: a home and a cell phone. the phone numbers given to me via their voice prompt to a place in Texas, was no longer existing. so i packed it up and went home.

this morning, i got the bright idea of installing the damn thing on my machine at work (running windows 98). amazingly, the software installed with no issues, and with some jiggling and muttering “work you piece of shit,” i got the zaurus to communicate to the infrared device. i was able to export the files to a .csv files, and finished within 30 minutes (more time spent getting the two infrared devices to see each other and communicate).

I walked in and told don that i had it working and backed up the files. he said ‘your da man!’. I grabbed my crotch and went out for a smoke.

i love you. i love you not.
last night, as justin and i were lying in bed, i started speaking in this monotone voice about how it all was -before-. it encountered my walks through life, and with how my previous relationships were corresponding to my depression. i talked about danny a lot, because that is all i kept remembering. i thought about what it was like when he and i were living together, and how trapped i felt. how i felt that i could not possibly feel for him as much as he felt for me.

sometimes, when i see justin, i still see danny. it hurts you know, to look at one person, think of someone else for all the wrong reasons. both danny and justin have the same gentle manner, both just want to be happy, and both loved me beyond reason. but, i feel like it’s hopeless. that i will never ever allow myself to be content enough to settle for one person. i’ve often thought of polyamory as being my main choice of how i will handle relationships, but even then it feels tainted. i don’t know what it is about me. i know a lot of how i feel is correlated to my depression, but how much and why? i said to justin last night: i wish things were much easier for me. i wish i could be the kind of person that could find the one person that i could say was the ‘one’, like everyone else does, but, i can’t. i have so many ‘ones’ that it’s just a joke now. i smiled sarcastically when i said this, but justin understood.

i spend a lot of my time thinking about how justin feels as he watches me go through this. i know things that i say or might say will be painful to hear (they are painful to feel), but if i don’t tell him, our relationship (which is hanging by threads in some areas) could fall apart. he’s given more to me than anyone else in my past and i do not want to not lie to him.

so it’s a tough decision.

i feel so detached from him and from anything else. i want nothing more to have the same problems that everyone else does, but i can’t see my life living in that way.
right now, as i wait for my ramen to cook, i’m typing this up. i’m looking at a black/white picture of justin & i together, that was taken at one of those cheesy photo-booths and I can’t even recall what I was feeling on that day. And that only happened less than a month ago.

yesterday, when i was updating the lisa chronicles, i had inadvertently dumped the main index file for my personal site. i was going to upload it again last night when i got home, but winders 98 and photoshop 4 seemingly are arguing, and just gave up. i’m redoing the index page anyway, so it would have changed 🙂

something neat
every now and then i go looking for myself on the internet and see where i’m linked from. chances are, more often than not, i find myself linked from the same people’s page (of people that i know). But here is some cool stuff i’ve found about me or my namesake, simunye:
– my friend dan named his car after me, and it won a race.
– from my days of hanging out with the hax0rs
– someone had one of my old ass pages in their bookmarks. i did email them to let them know i was no longer at that address.
-University of Georgia Augusta has access logs for April 21, 1997. My reverse dns shows up as i had been to the site.
– A quote that I had in my sig file that actually made it to someone’s page. I’m so pleased 🙂

a poem
one thing i found on the net was a poem that i had written on the day i went to a beat-l party, and found out wm. s. burroughs had died. the poem sucks, but heck. works for me.

a generation gap
a sparking of times, events, and people
i scarcely recognize
grabbing together all pieces in my memory
of who these people are
and almost succeeding
talking of times, events and memories that
occurred before i was born
of sex, drugs, events, places that no longer exist
a matter of bridging together those who knew
and those who are just beginning to know
of sparking interest in new blood to
rejuvenate the passion and the rawness of the
beat generation
of drinking wine,
of laughing,
of smoking dope
and feeling like a child sitting at the adults party
just listening and absorbing everything in
and learning along the way
-a ‘poem’ i did for the death of wm. s. burroughs, 8-2-97. it’s crappy, i know but i found it on the net 🙂

shiny happy people

so i’m sitting here at work, which is constructively known as a lunch break. justin is now working the 9am-4:30pm shift as a telemarketer, and he swapped his hours to be in sync with mine. he commuted this morning with me, and this was probably the first time he had to deal with morning Bay Bridge traffic. we held hands, and joked as we slowly made our way into the city. it’s nice having him there in the morning. it doesn’t feel as lonely as it used to, when it was just me and Howard Stern/Vinnie & Sarah. I am attempting to recruit daniel from work to ride with us as well, so that we can grab the car pool lane and save $2 bucks a day. Doesn’t sound like a big deal, but, car pooling also allows us to zip past the backup at the toll booth.

Since I just got paid this past friday, it was one of the first times that i had paid bills straight after I got paid. Generally I just do things like go out and go purchase crap i think I need. I’ve noticed a trend in my spending habits, is that the more depressed I get, the more I spend on crap (does someone really need 30 pairs of shows?). Needless to say, it was weird to pay off things, and look at my pile o bills and notice they weren’t so high anymore.

however, this is not the real reason why i started writing this in the first place. this morning, my friend AntKnee, from sf-fumblers, posted this story about how he was a party this weekend, and one of his friends stopped breathing. Only one person out of the whole group knew how to do CPR, and it was frightening to realize that this was damn near an average statistic. This prompted me to write a reply to how I felt about the whole situation and general health as well.

Last night Justin and I were laying in bed, and I started to talk. I had been feeling so disassociated with everything recently, that I can’t even conjure up (or imagine to conjure up), feelings of anything else other than survival. I can’t imagine that not so long ago I was in love with Justin, and I thought the world was at my fingertips. I spoke of these things to him, and told him how I felt. Somedays I loved him more than life itself, and other days, I felt like I never loved him at all. he asked me if the later was pretty recent, and I said ‘yes, it was’. I didn’t want to say these things because i was afraid of hurting him and myself, for even when i did say them, they felt both true and false. i feel in a way that i’m living life vicariously through other people: i see what they have and attempt to emulate it to some extent. i feel detached and alone. this is not uncommon with me: i’ve felt this way before. but the difference is, that in a way, i don’t know if i want to correct or help this now. it seems to be so heavy of a burden.

but the flip side is, i look at my life within the next 10 years, and i see myself still working for a start-up company, where i’m not making that much money and i’m living with justin hand to mouth every month. i don’t want to live my life like that. it frightens me that i can and would become something like that.

not so long ago, i had these ideals of how life, to me, was supposed to be. it represented this sort of nuance i felt that very few people had or would want to have. this feeling of ‘something’, that can’t be explained and that when i attempted to explain it, would become more of a choked up answer than a reality.

i remember once, jeff and i were talking on the phone. i think it was the first phone conversation we had. i remember talking about this feeling of a ‘whore’ that i felt, that because i couldn’t connect with anyone on any sort of level, that my ability to move from one relationship, almost effortless, raised a few eyebrows. jeff said ‘i know what you mean’, or something like that. i remember leaning back on my bed, closing my eyes and sighing deeply, because for that one moment, i felt okay. one other person in this whole fucked up world could feel what i felt, and i didn’t feel so alone anymore.

sometimes i miss that feeling. and i have had to think about what was it that i missed? did i miss him? did i miss what we ‘had’? did i even love ‘him’? i realized, i missed that feeling of feeling ‘okay’ even for a short while. i didn’t love jeff zapotoczny as himself, i loved the idea of what he was in my mind. parts of me loved what he represented to ‘me’ on other levels. i don’t know if i ever loved ‘him’ to begin with. so much was wrong that i simply ignored it, and thought i could accept it.

the irony is that, now, nearly two years since it began, and nine months after it ended, i feel nothing that would construe as what i felt before. time heals all wounds. time allows you to forget. but time also makes you remember those painful times when you don’t want to.

to justin’s credit, i feel some of those same things i felt with jeff. the analogy, which includes all my past lovers as well, is like a birthday candle: it lights quickly and burns for a short amount of time before dying out. with justin, it’s like those endless flame birthday candles: it lights up, dies and comes back to life again.

i wish life wasn’t so complicated, as to that i feel like everything was happening without me. i wish that i could not be in ‘pain’, for whatever pain it is, so that i can enjoy what i have. justin says, that because of who i am, nothing is going to be easy. and i suppose on some levels he is right, but it would be nice to know that for one day, everything can be okay.

talk about the passion

this has probably been one of the most shittiest weeks i’ve had in a long time. starting off with the insurance company fucking me over several times (and not using lube), and ending with me almost quitting my job, i guess nothing could get any worse. well, save for the fact i was to be in sf to finish working on the project we are doing for alice 97.3, and i didn’t hear my pager, my phone or anything going off to meet dave in the city. i didn’t roll out of bed until 3pm, nearly 14 hours after i crawled in. now it’s early sunday morning and my toes are freezing.

which to say isn’t a good thing.

however, on the bright side, justin cleaned the hell out of my printer, and now the smearing problem is gone. i can now write letters to people, which, i owe some to my mom mainly, and my main excuse for not writing was due to my printer not working properly. now all we need to do is get some rj-45 cable and a hub, and we are all set for our little network.

but what i have been worried about, in a more serious way, is passion. i’m not talking physical passion, i’m referring to passion of anything and everything. the way one likes/loves a movie, an object, a book, something. whatever, it does not matter: just passion. It could be the way you feel about a football team or a softdrink. well you get my point.

regardless, the situation at hand is that lately i’ve been feeling not as passionate. i can’t say how long i’ve been feeling this way, but, all i feel like is that my life revolves around getting up in the morning, going to work (after fighting with traffic for an hour), listen to people moan in the office, come home and go to bed. that’s my life. all the things i’ve been wanting to do or see haven’t been materializing themselves, and i feel hopeless.

i look at justin’s face, at my roommate filtering in and out of her busy social schedule, at the people i work with and their lives, and i still feel like something is missing. i don’t know what it is, i just do. i have never been able to explain the feelings that sometimes rise in my body, and sometimes i’m not able to clarify even when i do say something. i find myself almost on the verge of tears when i see wonderful things occurring around me, and i feel stale and lifeless.

i feel like the plants sitting on our front porch: thirsty for life.

my complete version of things does not always meet what everyone else see’s. mayhap for instance it’s not that i want to go to school to learn (which i do), it’s because i’m hungry for the experience of doing so. i’ve often felt cheated of what i have received in my life, and other times, i feel sickened by what i have let occur. my mind becomes this empty waste pot of nothingness, all because the choices i’ve made. it’s easier to fool yourself into believing you are happy then actually attempting to achieve it.

and justin wonder’s why i’m so ambitious.