ianmmori

[ianmmori]

Going on hiatus, no one reads this anyway

[ianmmori]

Journal #16

This has reduced down into me infrequently complaining because no one really follows this and if I do this on any other social media, people will wonder if I’m okay.

No, I’m not. Fucking leave it and don’t ask.

[ianmmori]

Journal #15

Confirming for myself that in the end, there’s no such thing as honesty.

[ianmmori]

Journal #14

It’ll be three years tomorrow I was the King of Diamonds.

I feel like the Joker.

[ianmmori]

Journal #13

I’m not calling this daily because I don’t update it daily. I’ll still write in here as regularly as I can.

I actually got dressed today to go out, get a haircut, and get some supplies for the mask project and eat something. I settled for getting undressed, sitting at my computer, long haired and disheveled, and thought it’d be better just to watch movies.

That is all.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #12

I take what people promise me with a grain of salt.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #11

I feel like an ignorant fool. No one is completely honest. Things are kept from me in an attempt to spare me the truth, but ignorance isn’t bliss.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #10

I have come to the conclusion that even if I tell the people in my life how I feel, I think that’s about as far as it’s going to go.

Today was the revelation that no matter what I say or do, I am the listener of my “tribe” and never the speaker. I don’t say much because there isn’t an opportunity. If I try to claim an opportunity, I am spoken over or interrupted. I am surrounded by individuals who want to talk at me.

They are keen on how I feel, and instead of stopping and taking the time to show a mild amount of empathy, they persist on taking up all the air in the room and I am quite literally waiting for my turn, SO MUCH SO they have to schedule SCHEDULE a day when they will not talk at me but they will listen.

I guess it’s a mother fucking start.

Mom was today, she took me to dinner but within the first 5 minutes makes it complicated.

She insisted that today she should take me out, anywhere I want to go, her treat, my choice, and she would take time to listen to me.

I say I want sushi and she goes “oh, let’s go to this one place, they have hibachi!” I mean, yeah, they do, but then I can’t order sushi. “You can order sushi if you want but why not try the hibachi, you’ve never had hibachi.” I’ve had hibachi. “Have you?! I don’t remember you ever having had hibachi.” So you’re privy to every independent meal I’ve ever had ever? “Well you’ve never had THIS hibachi.” Because I don’t usually like hibachi. It takes too long and there’s too much food. “Why don’t you try the hibachi?” Because I wanted sushi. “You might like it.” I start tuning her out because what’s the point at the moment? I thought she was gonna take me out to something I wanted, suddenly it’s what she wanted. I think she caught on because when we got there I asked for two for hibachi and we started walking over but mom lags behind. I go to sit down and mom is still at the front, eventually coming back to the hibachi table and says, “Have you seen their specials? they’re really good ones,” to which I told her I don’t really care about them because I thought she wanted hibachi and she suddenly thinks of me for a split second and says “but you wanted sushi--” which was nice to hear because, oh yay, mom considered me for once, but then goes “--but come look at the specials,” and I turn to the host and say “nevermind, no hibachi.”

We look at the specials and mom asks what each are, when clearly, the description is below it and so is the price. She asks how much each are. The host points at the price. Mom points at cheaper prices and asks why isn’t it that. Because that’s the roll and not the crayfish. She asks what the crayfish are (it says under the title of “fried crayfish (2LBS)”: Crayfrish fried with light seasoning, comes with rice, your choice of spicy or non-spicy) and he explains they’re like tiny lobsters, she says she knows what a crayfish is but what is in that, he says the crayfish, while bouncing his finger through the words, are fried with a light seasoning, like salt and pepper, and then they can make them spicy or non-spicy. She asks if it comes with rice, he points to the words “comes with rice” and she waits for him to say. He sighs and says yes, it comes with rice.

I AM USED TO THIS BUT IT DOES NOT FAIL TO IRRITATE ME. My mother will ask, despite having a full description of what a menu item is in front of her, what a menu item is. The problem with most service industry workers is that 1, English is not their first language and 2, they aren’t always trained on what certain things are on the menu because the description, 9 times out of 10, suffices for people. So when my mom asks what something is, the server is confused and this is EVERY TIME WE GO OUT.

I finally chime in and ask, “is this what you want?” quite finally and distinctly so as to come to a less than grey area conclusion because “we could just order right here and eat standing up,” and she’s like “no, let’s sit” and the host seats us at a table, but then mom immediately protests, saying why can’t we sit here instead, a table not 4 feet away. I’m like, the fuck does it matter, but we sit at the new table, host happy to oblige, and I go off.

“Mother, must you make every outing a drastically difficult experience, first you take my idea of sushi and shit on it with hibachi, then you take those plans and fuck them up with the specials, you waste the hosts time with silly questions about what’s the crayfish when the description is right there and then you have him seat us at another table that’s not but 4 feet from the table we would have been at illogically, the flying fuck mom.” She tells me she wants to be away from the corridor to the hibachi so we don’t smell like hibachi.

Oh. My. Fucking. Lord.

I order a large sake and a plum wine. Blast the plum wine before the waiter walks away and start on the sake. Mind you, I woke up 30 minutes prior to this.

We would have smelt like hibachi if we had stuck to the sabotaging plan from earlier, and 4 feet from a corridor isn’t gonna make a shit of a difference because the whole fucking restaurant smells like hibachi. Fun fact: no hibachi was made the entirety we were there.

Needless to say I get to say maybe 10 minutes worth of the hour long dinner my own peace, which I think is some progress is a sea of mouths talking at me, and I get home and again, am scheduled by a friend of mine to be listened to as she talks at me.

Doesn’t fail. People understand what I need, but are wholly inconsiderate of me. This is why I don’t talk, I say I’m fine, and we move on.

I am very much my father in that regard. Perhaps one day I’ll feel comfortable enough to open up, hopefully I have my wherewithals not to chase this person away like I did last time.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #8-9

I didn’t post yesterday because it was the most dragged out shit of a day I couldn’t really. After finding Max had passed on Saturday night, I put her to rest, didn’t sleep, and had to go into work early. about 6 hours in, I was running on fumes and basically begged the house manager if I could go. I got to head out, and getting home, proceeded to have a heated discussion with mom when she started talking at me. Took three hours, but we’re on some sort of new page so in future, she wouldn’t talk at me and I’d attempt to start opening up to her as best as I could.

It hasn’t been easy. Today, this weekend past, the last week, it’s been a lonely slog of working through my own bullshit by myself. I am by myself. I know I’m always an advocate of “you’re never alone” and fighting depression and all this shit, but I’m fucking alone. I’m severely alone and lonely and no one really gets it and here’s the thing, with my walls up, it’s fucking self defeating to think this way because you won’t let anyone in. No one gets in and I don’t want anyone to get in because I inherently see everyone as fucking selfish. 

I’m in that mode that I think no one wants to listen to me, so I don’t talk. I don’t try to talk, I don’t want to talk. It’ll take an act of God(s) to get me to open up because everyone sees me as some responsibility instead of something they care for. This is what I think. This is the stupid thought swimming in my head and this is what I think right now. I don’t want to think this way, I want to open up, but I have this, in my head, and I can’t. Everyone’s a selfish prick and I just want to hide out and write and publish and become an introvert even though I’m extroverted.

Burn me up.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #7.5

She was right. Really annoyed at myself I got that word swimming in my head.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #7

Can’t sleep so I’ll write.

I kept two female mice for about a year, Chloe and Max, names for the main characters of Life is Strange, and when I arrived home tonight, I found Max had passed while I was at work.

She hadn’t been well the last few days, deshiveled looking and moving a lot slower; she was the most agile of the two, and had a penchant for nimbly climbing on things and across the grate lid that covered their aquarium home. She was clever and sweet, never bit me, and was always courteous of Chloe and her constant alpha female pressings.

I think what may have happened was she had taken a fall. The lid is a good several inches from the bottom of their enclosure, and she’d always be climbing upside down across it. The wrong kind of fall might have done something to her because she was hobbling about the last day or so and sleeping in odd places. Chloe had similar behavior months ago but it was a blockage in her digestive tract that she passed eventually; I figured Max was going through something near to it, and I had thought of taking her to the vet, but before I could, she was gone.

She was genuinely a good mouse. Brown, beautiful coat, bright eyes, and clever as could be. It was an honor being her caretaker. I hope her next adventure is exciting.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #6

It’s oppressively hot today. Summer is not a season to be a smoker in Florida.

I’m feeling off today. Not great, but I guess that’s what this is for, organizing thoughts. About to go long on a weekend. Going long is back to back shifts, and I need to be back at the bar at noon tomorrow, giving me little to no sleep tonight.

My dreams have been ridiculously varied and vivid. Part of my is intrigued and equal part annoyed at this. I’ve been waking up when I do get to sleep confused and displaced. I don’t know where I am or who I am when I wake up and it’s off putting.

Last night I dreamed it was 2017. Things were fine, for the most part. It was nice.

[ianmmori]

Bartenders are socially accepted drug dealers.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #5.5

Driving home.

Overthinking while listening to music so I’m writing at stoplights.

A year ago today I sabotaged my happiness in a fit of frustration by being too honest. I’ve come to learn that no one, in spite of circumstance, should have to deal with the baggage one carries. I messed up and it’s been a spiraling down since with very few upturns. I really messed up and it’s been the worst choice I’ve ever made to be open completely in a moment I couldn’t control myself. Today should be special, but I’ve been off for a few days because I’m haunted by past transgressions.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #5

A coworker of mine called me a grumpy frog once.

I am a grumpy frog.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #4

Late post, almost forgot to do this.

Things are weird with me. I used to be the kind of person who needed one way or the other, black or white. In the last three years, nothing has been like that. Nothing has been flat out “this is it, this is how it is” it’s always an interpretation, or a grey area, or the dance isn’t agreed completely on. 

I have to be okay with this. I don’t really have a choice and I have to accept things as they are and just chug along with no real assurance as to how things are, how it should be, or who decides it, if it’s me or someone or something else. 

I’ve been told “seize it, take it, if it doesn’t agree with you, change it and if it fights, then let it go,” yeah it’s not that easy. 

What I want ultimately doesn’t matter, what I need doesn’t matter, because what it takes is the sacrifice that the universe isn’t willing to give to me.

That’s cryptic, vague, but I don’t really want to attempt specifics. At least I get it.

[ianmmori]

Daily Journal #3

At work at the moment, so a short post tonight.

I’m finding it increasingly difficult to care about things. I’ve allowed myself too much apathy as of late, a boat load of procrastination, and a general failing of following through.

It’s said that habit is built over the course of doing something regularly for a little under a week. Discipline is the perseverance against stagnation.

I can’t help that I feel I’ve let a lot of things go, things that used to matter to me. I need to find them again.