-Away From Keyboard-
It still gets difficult. Life is so much better since I hit rock bottom, but there are moments when I slip. Makes my keyboard happy, because it seems I write best when it gets dark.
It’s in my character, I think. I’m as melancholic as they come. No matter how “over it” I am, I will always think back and hope for what I once had. Even when it wasn’t all that much, it’s more than what I have now- two empty beds, both too big for me.
One cheated, one switched sides, one lost me like a bad habit. One I even managed to hurt, myself.
I miss her- and nowadays, “she” hardly even has a face, anymore. I just… miss, a lot. The gnawing feeling of spending time without easily counters the fading scar, so that the pain settles on a numb level, like a birth defect I am acutely aware of- Anywhere I go.
I am twenty-five and to my panic, outgrowing “boy toy” age. I was always my wet dream to get adopted by some older lady, to show me the complete, undiscovered emotional and sexual package. Or, alternatively, just find a student Ghent is packed with- A generation I am also getting too old for.
The difference between a dirty old man and a normal young one is just age, you know, and the diminishing effect it has on attractiveness.
I’ve gotten a hell of a lot better at being alone and pretending not to be bothered by it. But in the end, I am still alone and still stuck without someone to work for, wake up for, harass, fight with, or send a text message for no apparent reason- not like I ever do that, anyway.
When I was about 12, I dreamed that I would have to choose between my girlfriend at the time, or myself. One of us had to die. It went without saying that I would be the one to push up daisies, but the intensity of the dream made me wake up crying. Because I still had so much to live for: Someone to marry, grow old with, have children with (or the freedom to decide not to),… All permanently attached to some person or other- but someone.
What I’m trying to say is that all these aspects, and more, are essential to (my idea of) successful living. All aspects that I miss now that I’m moving on without.
I would post the pictures of our latest production now (yes, the ones I’ve been working on for days on end) but oh, my laptop just crashed.
Again: My laptop just crashed.
After a few months in my possession, my big-ass €1200 Dell laptop decided “Fuck this” and died on me while booting. The hard disk made that horrifying grinding noise you really don’t want it to make, and everything just… froze.
Self-analysis brought up nothing. BIOS set-up: Nada. The last thing that happened to it was my friend opening and shutting the lid a few times, effectively making it boot and shut down four times simultaneously. So- or so I figured, it’s probably just Windows breaking down crying on me, right?
I always believed Windows was “just” an operating system and really little more than a glorified version of DOS, giving you a representation of the organisation on your hard drive.
I really wish someone would have broken the news to me, because the surprise after re-installing and finding my hard disc EMPTY, was a very unpleasant one.
Everything is gone. My music. My pictures. Those pretty fucking essential sound files for the theater production.
Thank Maynard I kept a backup on my hard disk, which was more circumstantial than anything- I don’t usually keep backups. Most of my pictures, including the old ones with quite a bit of emotional value attached, were saved and now have their only copy on there. Lucky break there.
Meanwhile, I managed to bring my laptop back from the dead and decided, judging from the timing of its ditching me, it’s really a “she”. But let’s not go into that.
It’s working, yes, but barely. All the essentials are there: My hard disk, processor, and internet connection- and that’s about where it ends. Windows won’t function as it should because it requires more advanced graphics than the (apparent) back-up VGA adapter on my motherboard can handle; let alone decent photo editing software. And that means? Photography is out of the question for the next couple months, as well, which is just breaking my heart.
Speaking of which, I am planning to have the thing fixed properly (it’s formatted now anyway) which means I will have to do without for a few weeks after the theater production.
I am dreading those weeks.
Maarten without internet is like chocolate cake without mustard. I don’t think it will be long before I am at a friend’s, or even my sister’s, stealing their internets.
BUT until then, verminophobics rejoice! Experience has taught me that a lack of functional computer works like a charm to get me off my ass and behaving like a normal human being and clean this place up for once. So busy with photography and working, even while at home, has led me to neglect this place like never before.
So in the next two-three weeks, Don’t email me. Call me, and save me from the cleaning!