Thursday, May 21, 2009


the other night, i came across a message that said that the frankfort middle school/high school band concert would be that night. having felt lazy all day, and recognizing that this may be the last band concert i ever attend, i came to the conclusion that i should go. if anything, it would be nice to walk amongst the warm, late-spring air that has been mostly absent this whole season. i walked with a smile on my face as the warm sun set behind the baseball field. the football field. route 5s. circa survive blaring in my ears. i entered the high school for the first time in two years. interestingly, the only thing that felt out of place was the fact that everywhere were banners and papers proclaiming “congratulations graduating class of 2009!”. even i didnt feel out of place. i knew which rooms belonged to which of my instructors. i could point out my senior locker. i floated through the senior hallway—through the auditorium—like a ghost. nobody recognized me. have i really changed that much in two years—four years? i was not offended by this. i was able to walk through a place still so familiar to me unseen—invisible. not under the watchful eye of teachers or administration.

the soloists and high school band performed amazingly.

the younger of my friends—seniors now, only 8th graders when i graduated—they recognized me. said hello briefly before being whisked away by their parents—bedtime. one of the custodians i worked with during the memorable summers of 2004 and 2005 recognized me. we talked. it was nice. and surprise surprise: i dont remember his name. frank is the best i can come up with. i think i am wrong.

i stepped into the band room—ms. asher barely recognized me. we talked for a short while. she congratulated my having graduated from oneonta—on my acceptance to graduate school. it was so odd seeing a younger teacher now from the perspective of somebody as equal as her: a college graduate. almost like we could be best friends if life allowed for it. it was an interesting idea to toy with in my head. i said goodbye to her for the last time, and began to walk home.

despite my likeness that evening to a ghost amongst tombstones, it was on that walk home—as i passed the tennis courts—that i realized that, no matter how much i sometimes dislike being here, no matter how much i sometimes dislike the people here, no matter how much i want to get the hell out of here already and move to albany, i will always have a home here, and at least a handful of human beings who love me. its a comforting thought.

it is beautiful here in the spring. when it warms up.

heres to you, frankfort.


recently, ive realized that i have been wandering through memories and have been causing them to physically manifest themselves. partly my fault. its the month of may. the feeling of spring turning into summer. its happened last year. i think may will always feel weird.

with all of these graduation things going on, my brain cant help but mosey into depths of my hippocampus—wired inexplicably to the limbic system—to reproduce how i felt—how my environment felt—four years ago at this time, as i prepared to graduate from high school. wants to just test the old waters. for the hell of it. who knows? my life was so much different then: my parents were together, i was infinitely more innocent, and infinitely more ignorant and naive—i had no idea what was out there. and i had a girlfriend, too. her name was amanda.

surely as a consequence of my poor, confused, hijacked brain, i got in touch with her a week or so ago, and she ended up bringing me to this party she was at. it was nice to see her—for sure. but it was the same as the last time i had seen her—20 months and 6 days beforehand: some part of me felt—and i feel that at least one ex of a relationship will always feel this way regarding their corresponding ex—that of everybody in the room, i should have been getting the most attention from her. its not that i wanted it, per se. some unknown part of me just desired it. (maybe i’ll find that part some day. i dont think i care to.) maybe because at one point in time, i was the the only person in that room filled with people getting that attention. i dont think that those are things anybody will ever get past (notice that i didnt say “get over”. see the difference?). and i feel as though because of how the final breakup went down, and how i handled it, i was the one who felt more scorned. i dont know. but that is how i felt last night. i felt almost invisible. it is not her fault—why should i, an ex of four years, give a flying fuck? and why should she? it shouldnt matter. but it does. for some reason. and i feel as though it always will. she was my first girlfriend, after all. and we were together for the better part of a whole year. again: i think that is all a reflection on how i handled everything subsequent to the breakup. i was bitter. i didnt want to talk to her. it was torture. i just wanted to be left alone. after nearly a year of that, i realized that it was pointless. and i apologized. we made amends. fin. there hasnt been much to add to the story since then. the whole point is though: with all of this graduation stuff going on, i miss when i was a senior in high school, and miss the time i spent with her, and how my environment felt around me—how it sounded and smelled, how it looked and felt. and i dont think she feels the same.

and i guess some part of me thinks that that is sad.

i would rather remember every detail then forget or deny a whole year of my life.

thats just me.

again: why should i give a flying fuck?


and by the simple fact that it is may, in which the beginnings of a very difficult summer two years ago was founded, some part of my brain cant help but wander through the memories and ghosts of that time—im listening to the same music, reading the same books. some part of my brain is trying to recreate the environment of two years ago. yet again—i dont know why. maybe my brain is trying to test me—figure out how i could have handled things were i then who i am now. i dont know. i know simply that it is happening—nothing more. and wouldnt you know it—last week, i saw dana, too. but her and i are a different story. we broke up. we still talked. we were still best friends. things got increasingly difficult for me towards the end summer—to put it lightly. but we started talking again once we returned to school, fortunately. thankfully. there were rough times in there too, but basically, we remained very good friends. and still are. she came to visit me in albany last summer. and when she found me at the senior class picnic last night, she latched onto me—wouldnt let me go. if that wasnt nice, what is? she attended the bar crawl, and we talked here and there when we could. i didnt feel like i did around amanda. i didnt feel starved for her attention. again—its not that i necessarily wanted it (in retrospect of what i just wrote here and above: i am lying—we all want attention from our exs. plain and simple). it could be because i was getting attention—whenever we ended up being at the same bar, we’d wave, say hello, talk about whatever. it was nice. and we ended up spending our last night as oneonta undergraduates drinking in the dorms. talking about our lives. about life—like we always do. singing and playing guitar. bar hopping until 3am. and if that wasnt nice, what could be? i am very thankful that her and i are still friends. i wouldnt want it any other way.

again: i think its the differences in how ended relationships are handled that defines how you will feel around that person for the rest of your life.

i panicked when i got home saturday for reasons known to me that i will not share with you. sorry. but i am fine now. the ghosts have disappeared. despite what im hearing, reading. i only see the walls of my house around me. i move to albany (hopefully) this weekend or early next week. and i will walk amongst the beautiful ghosts of last summer, i am sure (this is not a bad thing, as you know—albany changed my life in ways i cannot explain). for no matter how far you exceed the past, you cannot deny it. it will always catch up to you.

in retrospect of what is written here and above: writing this thing—i feel—has served no purpose. but i had to get it out.

thank you for reading.

the final annual end-of-the-school-year blog

NOTE: this was written over the course of thursday, may 14th; and today, june 21st.

hello babies. its that time again.

i am not writing to you from an empty room, whilst waiting for my family to come and pick up my belongings, and bring me back to frankfort. i am writing to you from a partially empty room—the soley resident of matteson 013 still here. i go home in two days—i graduate in two days—not two hours. but i fear that i will not have the time in between now and then to write—as i always do—and so, here i am, writing to you. from a partially empty room. the keys of my laptop echo out of my room and through the living room. i clap my hands—the living room claps back. i am not alone, after all.


this has been as difficult a year as it has been easy. in the fall months, i was becoming increasingly frustrated with who and what i saw around me. people being so shitty—people giving a shit about things that obviously did not matter. their insolence and immaturity made me sick. i shrunk away. as i was prone to do, considering i had basically lived alone since june. eventually, i found even more ways to entertain myself. better: i found out what all of the things in my mental box labeled ‘unparalleled happiness’ were—the books, albums, movies, places, activities, food that all made me happy—and i took refuge and comfort in them when i couldnt stand even having to share air with the human beings around me. eventually, though, i think those feelings subsided a bit.

winter break was okay. i worked at VHS—for the last time. today i said goodbye to my nurses, and to the adult daycare crew, and handed in my badge. i am no longer an employee there. though i will always have a place there, and people who love me there—it is no longer where i belong. it was the first time in a long time ive had to say goodbye—to say, ‘im not coming back—this is the end’. ive been doing that a lot lately. and i will be forced to continue to do so. christmas was okay, too. everyone seemed to be okay with my father being around—except my uncle (mothers brother), still. my father was not allowed at that particular christmas party. but. whatever. things seemed to run smoothly. it was better than the last time he had come to some sort of family function that i was present at (easter of last year). its my sister—it seems—who is now making this the hardest on everybody. she loves my father. she hates me. shes cool with my parents being civil. she wants them to hate each other. she wants them to be back together. or so it seems. or so ive been told. she hasnt quite said any of that to me. but thats how my mother makes it out to be—who, by the way, my sister thinks is stupid. apparently. i dont know. she doesnt talk to me much.


i came back to oneonta in january with a bang—i was ready to get back in the lab and get back to work and crank out my last semester of my undergraduate career (did you get the joke? we all do it at least once—hence the name. confused? good.). shortly thereafter i went to california with glenn to visit eric—again. and it was one of the most memorable weeks in my life. not only did i have a good time, not only was it great to see eric after 9 months, but i think all three of us learned some important lessons in those 8 days. we learned that you only live once, and that you should never let opportunities pass by you because youll regret it in the end if you do. ive lived everyday since that trip mumbling that mantra to myself everytime i feel like im letting opportunities pass by—you only live once. i came back to oneonta from that trip refreshed. i was ready to give humans beings a shot again—i think—because i just wanted to get out there and have fun with my last 2.5 months in oneonta. bioclub has been my savior when it comes to faith in human beings because theyre such a legit group of people. at the end of our first week back to school in january, bioclub went to boston—which was another great trip—and a good sized group of us got really tight after that. wed have parties. go to the bars on tuesday afternoons. we had another camping trip (we had one in october, too, which i have previously wrote about as being a rebirthing experience) several weeks ago. that was—yet again—an absolute blast. i will miss them dearly.

as will i miss all of my friends. the past few days, every time i leave some sort of party or gathering, it seems like theres a new set of people to say goodbye to—never to see again, maybe. i get used to this when i work at the nursing home, because i meet people in month A, and have to say goodbye to them in month B, or C. the thing is, when they get discharged, when they die—when you watch them have a stroke in their bed, or hear them drowning as their lungs fill up with fluid—or when i left for college, yet again—i knew id never see them again. they get hurt—wed make them better. they get sick—theyd die. and theres no coming back from the dead. i have met countless people—i know—who i will never see again in my life. and these are people i grew to love. they hadnt been around the socially elite of this day and age enough to become as shitty as they are—that is to say, the socially elite. but this is different, now. saying goodbye to people i have known for four years, three years, two years, a few months. people that ive spoken with and partied with and had lunch or coffee with. who i may never see again. the relationships are tighter or—at least—more established. to those of you at suny oneonta who have stuck by my side for the past four years, three years, two years, few months—i love you and i will be seeing you soon—i hope.

to those from frankfort who i will surely see sometime soon—i love you all as well. i thank you all—and you know who you are—who helped me through the tough times—the summer of 2007. i would not be here without you. and i thank you also for all of the great times playing pong on a sunday night, or piling 30+ beers on a small table in the bowling alley while totally sucking at rock-n-bowl. these are things that i will never forget.

to those from the valley—i love you all as well. and i apologize that in the past 4 years i have not been as easily accessible as in high school—a consequence of going away for school (a decision i will never take back) and short, interspersed breaks. i know there are a few of you who have seemingly thought i have abandoned you—abandoned me in return. for this i am not sorry—i cannot help the circumstances of my life. and i am sorry that you cannot see that.

“i thank you for your attention, and im outta here.”
kurt vonnegut, jr.
April 27, 2007