tim

Today I went up to a local outdoor mall about an hour away to return some shoes I bought online that didn't fit properly in exchange for new ones. I arrived at about 1 p.m. and while I certainly didn't think I'd be in that same plaza at 10 p.m. later that evening, I wouldn't have been surprised to know I would be.

Sometimes when I do things or am in environments where I feel light-hearted, ambitious, or just emotional in general, it can be really hard to leave the place I felt like that. They've always been rare feelings for me -- feeling 'free' or consumed with emotion.

And it just kind of hits me, you know? First it starts with the idea that I'm not in any rush to get somewhere. That I CAN relax. Then, as I walk directionless, usually listening to music, the second thought hits me. "I feel okay."

It's hard to properly explain what that sentiment means to me. It doesn't mean I'm happy. It doesn't mean I feel secure or confident in how life will be even 5 hours later. But it means I don't feel anxious or melancholy. It means I feel at peace in that moment.

I've spent years feeling as if I was adrift or in the dark. On every 25 minute walk home from work at my last job or every 45 minute walk back from the grocery store. Every night I'd leave my empty apartment to go walk around campus at 2 a.m. -- to sit in the empty classrooms and play piano where other people would play earlier on or before school let out. Every night I'd walk listlessly around the mall and other local businesses in 2014 when I had nowhere else to go. So many of my drives home from practice late at night now that I have a car -- just living life as a ghost.

Feeling either like I could lose myself at any minute and just drift into a dark alley, never to be seen of again, or steeling myself with this quiet, cold determination that it was just something I *had* to do. Burying my loneliness and insecurity with the thought that one day I'd grow with them.

People would often compliment me on my ability to walk long distances, saying "I don't know how you can do it." or commenting that I had "legs of steel." But I never had legs of steel. I had legs with weak muscles, and feet with bruised skin and brittle bones. There was just no other option.

And it's with that same quiet, cold determination that I spent years avoiding social media and working on myself -- trying to become a better musician, a more socially capable person, trying to get my license and a car. Reflecting on the lessons I have learned from the people I've lost and trying to become a better person.

And I know I'm still not where everyone else is. It's always two steps forward, one step back. But now, having (mostly) come out of the other side of the void... To spend an evening enjoying the sunset in an empty parking lot, to feel at peace or accomplished with myself for driving a notable distance and spending a day in public by myself. It's nice. And feeling nice...

One of my favorite songs and one of my favorite paintings. When I listen to You In January while in an emotionally open mood, I feel as though I’m full of ambient love, filling each room I walk in with a thousand tiny stars.

And the intro of the song, while obviously positive in a loving way, always felt slightly melancholy to me. After all, there is melancholy in that level of tenderness. In feeling so taken aback by how much you love and adore somebody. It’s affecting, and I feel like it requires a deep well of emotional experience to really *feel* that strongly.

"Oh look -- glasses."

"They're fake."

Today I decided to buy -- and was subsequently rocking -- some semi-transparent sunglasses (with a look that can only be described as "dad who teaches a youth sailing class" or "son of a man who owns a yacht club.")

And while looking at a couple of the pictures I took throughout the day, I had this thought of: "Oh, that's kind of what I'd look like wearing actual glasses."

To explain, I have relatively poor vision in my right eye -- so much so that I once failed my vision test at the dmv and had to get a note written from an eye-doctor stating that as long as I have both eyes open, I should be considered fine -- even if I fail vision tests with my right eye.

It was something brought up frequently to me growing up. "Oh, your eyes aren't the same strength. Would you ever consider wearing glasses or getting contacts?" and a frequent joke among my high school friends -- the idea of getting a prescription monocle. But I never really had any interest in correcting my vision. It only affected me periodically, and I always felt like glasses would look bad on me or that once I got used to using them, I wouldn't be comfortable living without them.

It wasn't until last year that I actually got a regular eye doctor and became comfortable with the idea of potentially getting contacts or glasses (things I would have by now if they weren't so expensive) so it was interesting, to me, to see my eyes through the opposite side of a lens for once.

While reflecting on all of that, this scene from FLCL came to mind. Like a voice in the back of my head, saying "They're fake." I can remember even as a kid, it standing out to me as poignant. (And obviously it must have for me to be remembering it now 17 years later!) That in spite of wearing glasses -- and even opening up to Naota about doing so -- she still felt the need to hide behind fake glasses on stage.

He's a very good but very squeaky boy.