Gyorgos at work 1.
Gyorgos at work 2.My friend has been working very, very hard. He is writing a "STAGE" script, just how I have been, and need to continue. He has isolated himself into "studio mode." It is very funny I understand his mentality rationally but I don't understand it emotionally. So I talk to my emotions : my rationalizations usually say "fxck you" to my emotions, but I guess evolution designed my emotions to be concerned for a few select number of people in this world, and my friend is one of them. So I get all agitated when I have a sequential lack of electronically communicative response. The whole stepping-off-the-planet syndrome. I'm actually saying "fxck you" to my emotions right now.
Otherwise I am proud of him for working hard and following his dreams... and keeping his word. Based on all the things my friend had told me in the past, I had come to realize that these bouts of writing and epiphanies and isolation were inevitable, given that he keeps his word. And so he has, and he is doing right now what I did in the past to my best friend from China, Talei. I isolated myself to the nth degree for a couple of months.
Anyhow, this kind of work ethic just wants me to help him more. It's even more inspiring to some degree... even more taxing to some degree. All I know is that my friend WILL do something amazing for the world. And so I just want to follow him around like a puppy dog, watching what wonderful things he'll be doing next....
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I found an old pencil-image I sketched "Studio Room for *riel" and just uploaded it to my picasaweb profile. The link can be found here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qD21SUgHk2VUx2lxH7sgjw?authkey=Gv1sRgCLrGqeuss_SV7AE&feat=directlink
When I look back at our "last" encounter in late September of 2008, (it was horrible; I even had to prompt it, he was even willing to leave it in limbo), *riel willingly left me stranded in tears in a car with a dying--then dead battery in the middle of Isla Vista. He walked off, just like that. It seemed like he was even surprised that he remained "exclusive" to me for nearly six months! He walked off, and hardly even talked to him since. I purposely avoid Bren simply because he's around this year. I look back at him, the climax final event. I couldn't even label this guy a "friend." More so an emotional barbarian. Willing to let the person of physical penetration just drown in a sinking ship. That night I felt void--perhaps--I was a wreck. That is all I know, what I do remember more vividly (while I was apathetically distraught), was a whole team of chefs and runners from Domino's Pizza who hand-pushed my car and got their buddies to help a stranded, crying graduate student get back on the road. This group of hispanics were more attentive and caring than *riel by a long shot, and even more attentive and caring than the cops down the street (who were monitoring the drunkard walks of undergrads upon initiation or return of school).
My first was in the end emotional barbarian. It makes the Sith look like an angel. He prevented disaster from occurring before it started. He will make a good president of the United States: he takes action before all of America's hearts are broken.
And I have not had a chance to write about this yet... but the last time I saw *riel I was frustrated. I just started visiting Jules in San Diego and I began feeling more and more frustrated that I didn't have my "sixth eye" Nikon Coolpix 5700 camera (the lens has exceptional abilities that my Nikon D80 SLR doesn't have). I tried calling him about five times, and like usual, he did not respond nor check his voicemail. It was Friday--the day before a fisheries stakeholder meeting--and by default I was hyper and daring. I stormed over there, expecting the worst case scenario--getting yelled and scorned at because I showed up "impromptu" like what happened over the summer. But in the end, we talked for an hour... the usual predictable stuff. But it was funny, with some distance in time, I saw clearly, my perception of *riel in April 2008 (T1) and February 2009 (T2) and clearly saw the discrepancy between these time layers. What I perceived at first is this pure, pristine, idealistic, mental entity, theoretical, infinitely free-and-easy wanderer (and such was the story he told me), and over time and observation of behaviors and accumulation of stories, it ended up that he was entrapped in his own prison, pushing everyone away, including his own family, not just his friends and roommates. And that is just the short of it. A lot of theoretical thinking was eventually allocated to the common high-male-sx appeal "conspiracy theory" bullshxt in which I am over with. The rest is just an accumulation of details that led to my construction of an infinite mind tied to a tangle of physicsl chains, stuck in a self-constructed prison. He may not play video games, but he lives in the internet, and that is just as bad. Internet does not replace real-world tangible experiences.
What can I say?! He is a creature of discrepancy. He's two faced. He painted an initial ideal portraiture of his infiniteness, and then the accumulation of tiny pieces of evidence (behaviors + stories) revealed a limited story of chains. And I FELL for this.... That is what is AMAZING about all of this? How could I be so gullible? Well, fine, it's a first timer kind of thing. Sometimes discrepancy of Selves within one human being are apparent on day one, and other people, like this case study, the discrepancy shows up in tiny pieces of evidence accumulated over six months.
I guess the highlights of the whole entire relationship were watching Walle together, getting a highly educationally entertaining lecture on the properties of the Chumash painted caves up in the mountains, eating at some downtown excessively fancy Thai food place one last night in August (while he guided me to waste $130 of my money at Ross Dress-for-less, that was NOT pleasant; I plan to BURN those clothes, let lone sell them on ebay), and the first moment we both melted and succumbed to our fleeting dualist self-absorptions.
All did not go to waste. I had a successful first volunteer appearance at the Santa Barbara Writer Conference... and I walked away with my first self-published book Question Reality. Well? Is there a tinge of jealousy on the other's part? MA FUD YA! He just made me realize that "I'm not the only one who thinks this way, so just get over it and get rid of it."
He was also the first person who taught me to completely understand the notion of relativity. I am never seeing actual reality. Time travels always so I am always seeing perceived reality of events that actually occurred a split second earlier. Scary huh. It's all relative, eh? Down to our very perception in our eyes. I still have his cosmic evolution book--it's hard to give up!
T*riel did of great service to me. Though he apparently wants to be some journalist media reporter (though he has phobia of being on the internet, ironically), he graciously did not show up to the COMPASS science-journalism-communications workshop this year. All the better. Because it would have resurrected demons of our first encounter.
When his motor breaks down in the middle of the ocean, I'll most likely not be there. And if I am, I might not just help out. I'll be an emotional barbarian as well, and allow the dolphins to miraculously save him from the sharks.
Hector Javkin told me of a Book on Multiple Representation of Self in different circumstance--self to the self, self to the family, self to friends, self to community, self to society. GET THE REFERENCE!
The Jesusita Fire wasn't a matter of divine intervention, I'm sure. About three days after writing the second to last blog response here, my father and sister call me of the fire off "Mission Canyon" and suddently the Uncertain Certainty became a Reality as soon as I wished upon the person who abandoned me with an abandoned car in Isla Vista that when he was abandoned in the middle of the ocean--whether the ocean's ocean or an ocean of oak tree overgrowth surrounding his home--that I wouldn't be there. I thought of calling a few times but then I thought the Red Cross and helpful neighbors were probably doing a great job being helpful citizens. Taken refuge by the Gap Fire, wished I could of reciprocated, but in turn I was abandoned before I could reciprocate. It's funny how a strangely precise position of a wildland fire could fundamentally alter my perception of profound circumstance.
I took pictures of several burning and burned houses. I found comfort amidst destruction: it was a time for rejuvination, reattachment to new things, new islands of order. Surviving catastrophe is ultimately a sacred process.
I just erased direct associations from blogs 164 and 384, as requested. All is clear...
And so it majorly goes. Case study number two (with case study number one being tennis), of getting to know a system, very very well, and instead of love, it becomes one massive clump of detested dissassociation. But in the end, I will walk with the pieces that make my own self grow... to get to know myself... to "love" myself in the best possible light. Grasp the northern lights and shed the demons.
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