Revivial Only As Sweet

No quote here, just a new revival for a “blog” that has been forgotten through the ages of life and maturity.

Honestly, Off the Beaten Path was probably viewed by, at most, 10 people in a given month. It was a place to vent out my life’s frustrations while also looking back on the stupidity of both myself and others. More or less, it will continue to be something of that effect, but now there’s a tumblr with the same name and the same idea; just an easier way to post up my life’s frustrations without having to go on a computer (the WordPress app on my iPhone is too complicated for me to want to mess with; really now, who uses html on a phone and gets away with it?). For all of life’s troubles, I shall continue to post on this blog, dwelling deeper into a mind and a subconcious that I not only will never understand, but I will never understand it with others.

What this blog is for is beyond me; one of these days I shall remember. Until then, it will be revived.

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(See, I don’t even have an idea of what I was typing.

Logic

“Pure logic is the ruin of the spirit.”
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (1900-1944)

Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to do that; perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to break things off like that. Things really never turn out the way you plan them in your head…

She never really did forgive me for what I did, and in retrospect I probably will never be forgiven for what I did. There was always that dream or “aspiration” she had and was always telling me that ‘even if all hell breaks loose, I will never lose that dream or aspiration.’ I respected that, because who the fuck has aspirations they hold so truly?

Then we got into some things that would be always questionable by most, if not all… and slowly those dreams and aspirations made way for the “here and now.” That vision she had for wanting to keep that dream was slowly vanishing, and I was helping that dream vanish. It became a question of “How do I keep her dream from vanishing?” rather than “How do I help her achieve her dream?”… and in that desperation, there was logic.

Logic told me to stop her from losing that dream… that vision she had valued so much. In doing so, I lost a friend. Maybe the way I went about stopping her wasn’t the best, and to this day it’s the reason why we don’t talk anymore…

In the end the dream, that vision, was completely lost forever a few months later, but I can’t help that it was my fault that her dream was never realized. It makes me question if logic was the reason that killed that dream, or if it was because I was unable to help her achieve that dream?

Paper Boat

“A paper boat for every day I’ve realized what made me feel this way. A paper boat for every day I’ve realized that I had actually fallen for you, and a paper boat for everyday that I will wait for you…”

There was a boy and girl who had known each other for years and years; since they had met in 6th grade. They had tried going out beore, but because of their age, it had fallen through. That, however, never stopped them from being good frieds. As the years went by, they got closer and closer, and unbeknownst to the girl, the boy had always harbored a special place for her.

Soon enough, he had fallen for her again… and had planned the perfect setting for asking her to be his girlfriend again. It was never to be though, as she had been asked by someone else just a day before. He could not bring himself to tell her how he felt, believing that as long as she was happy that it would be alright. He vowed to wait for her and dedicate that promise… and with that, began making paper boats after a story that she had loved.

A paper boat for every day that he waited for her; a paper boat for everyday that he felt the way he did because she made him feel that way. He made one every day that she made him feel like anything was possible if given the chance, and made one every day as long as there was hope; as long as he believed there was still a chance. He would wait for her until he gave up hope.

… it’s a story that continued onto today, but now with a different twist. When she reads this, she can only begin to scratch the surface of how much she really meant to him, how much he cared for her, and how much he valued her. They’ve gone they’re separate ways, but to this day they’re still friends.

—– —–

I found this while I was cleaning my room. Interesting, isn’t it?

The One That Got Away

Two months in and I have to think that I’m in a great position right now… after all, how can I not be in a great position at this point?

There is, however, something on my mind that does bother me. It’s a story of sorts, because the length of time that it took for this story to evolve just made it become… a story. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me thinking it, but I can’t help but think about it right now, given the precarious situation I’m in.

So, the story starts with this girl I met way back. She was a strange person; extremely anti-social with people. I never quite understood it, because when she was around her friends she was normal, but yet when her friends introduced me it was like meeting a shy, scared, and timid person. I never quite understood why she was like that, but eventually she got used to me and began to be more open to me.

Fast forward a year, where I didn’t see her much in high school. Skip to my sophomore year, where to my surprise I find her standing in the hallway in the same school I was in. Maybe somebody was telling me something, but damn I was happy to see her there. She only knew two people at the school (literally; there’s no joking in this at all), and my friend was usually never around, so it was always just me and her. Truth be told, I liked the alone time we always had, even though we didn’t do anything but walk around the hallways or something mundane like that.

Eventually liking those times when we were alone turned into liking her. At the time I didn’t realize it, but this would turn into something that was a big part of my life. I took my stupid time (I was still a mindless idiot when it came to asking people; I called it SAHS), and even though eventually she said yes, that didn’t last long before we became just good friends again. From there is was a mindless trend of hanging around each other yet not being ‘together,’ and everybody around us always questioned why.

The rest of my time in high school was both good and bad. Good in the sense that I broke out of my ‘timid’ self and became somebody that nobody could ever forget (my laugh is infamous with my name apparently), where I knew everybody in my graduating class (there was only 152 of us, so it’s not that hard to remember us all), and all the memories that I had with my friends, my close friends, and of course with her. My memories of her, however, are a bit different than others. It’s not only the good ones, the memorable ones, but also the bad ones. I can still vaguely recall some of the many arguments we had, and regardless of what I remember, I was always wrong. I never accepted it, naturally, but looking back on it, I probably was.

Now, we’re two different people. Only seperated by a year, but it’s that same barrier that has seperated our friendship a little. Still close, I can’t help but wonder what would’ve been if I had asked her again, if maybe she said yes to the pitiful times I asked her out or when I told her that I still liked her; if she said yes to when I asked her to prom. My inability to be straightforward compounded with time was what caused this rift, and from there… I can’t help but wonder the ‘What ifs’ of it.

The times have changed now. She’s with somebody now (yet still constantly telling me that all men are idiots and need to die) and even though I don’t mind that, it’s the fact that the person she’s with I disapprove of. Maybe it’s just that lingering regret talking, but I feel that it isn’t right. What I’ve done will never amount to what he’s had to do, and in all truth that’s what will bother me.

In her eyes, I’m the one that will always argue with her, will always be the ‘mean’ person she’s come to know the most, the one that will never make any sense when explaining something but yet tries to… the list goes on. In her eyes however, I will also be the reliable one, the person she can go to for help, and if nothing else, the person who will be forced to stay up all night to keep her awake to finish homework.

As for me? I can’t complain, because I’m with somebody special, but I will always have that nagging feeling for “The One that Got Away.”

When the Past Collided with the Present

“All are lunatics, but he who can analyze his delusion is called a philosopher.”

– Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)

It’s my belief (though she might disagree with it) that this is how our weird and estranged friendship came to be. I still remember those days where I would get onto Virtopia (now being continuously blocked by Google) just to chat with a friend that I never even met in person. She may have only been a year older than me (that’s my assumption anyway, as we never really “talked” about age, just birthday… which, if she’s reading, is July 12th), but she taught me the value of thought within’ humanity’s stupidity.

I honestly think that it’s because of her I am the person I am today. I know, it’s a big gap to say that right through the door, but it really is because of her that I always used to think of what it meant to be in this world and all my stupid theories and philosophies of life. None of them ever really made much sense, but it was always fun to hear the reactions of people when I would explain my theory that was so aptly titled “Stupidity Rules the Foundation of Our Lives and how We’re too Blind to Notice” that, needless to say, everybody pretty much ignored me.

I knew that there was something different about this friendship, but then again what part of it was normal? We never met in person; our friendship was developed through the long back-and-forth messages in AIM. We rarely ever even sent e-mails (I still have all the old e-mail addresses, though I doubt any of them work), never met through any type of social networking (lets face it, there was nothing back then), and we sent a total of 2 pictures sent between the two of us. It was always like that, and it never really bothered me that I didn’t really “see” the person I was talking to… it was just something we got used to.

We have drifted off through the years, and every once in awhile we would rekindle that old intellectual chat that was the basis of our friendship. I’d like to think that it hasn’t been lost through the years we drifted apart, and they always say that the internet makes the world a smaller place, but even then… Esther was always a very secretive person, and getting a straight answer from her was all but impossible.

… though because of that, it made the conversations more fun. ^^-b