→ 17 Sep 11 at 10 pm

I had a really down day today. No one’s fault, nothing specific.

I always want to rush and blame boredom, and maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ve lived the same life for a decade and a half; filling my time with work I don’t want to do and then playing with friends or reading or watching tv. The occasional vacation somewhere exotic. The occasional ridiculous shopping spree. But always a pattern that resets itself; I’ve been swallowing my own tail for a while now.

And here’s where it gets a bit philosophical - What the fuck else am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to be seeking some secret fulfillment, some nirvana? And, if so, what avenue do I take? Endless chanting in a house of worship? Acts of good will and charity? Do I drop off the face of the earth, live in solitude and refine my inner eye?

We all know that while I can do a little, I’ve never been one to commit myself to one track. I’ve always been Mrs. Dalloway, planning this party or that, distracting myself with pastries and flowers. I think now that I’m getting older, this is working less and less. I find that I am tired of putting in effort for so little reward - I have not been given the grace of a grand gesture, romantic or otherwise, in years. (To be honest, I think the last time I felt that sudden seizure of surprise and happiness is when my friend Jose from Boston drove hours out of his way to Toronto to visit with me before heading back to Chicago - the look on my face when he knocked on my door without warning must have been tremendous!)

I can’t blame people, though. I can’t blame others for my own high expectations. This is the mantra I have tried to accept, especially after moving back to Toronto. It’s a difficult road to be on, certainly, when you know you can’t ever be properly reciprocated. I made a picnic lunch for a friend some months ago. A three course meal with champagne grapes and Guinness stew - a tour de force in terms of a picnic! I brought a basket and blanket-  it was darling. All because he said he had never had a picnic before. The look on his face at that moment was like mine when Jose appeared - shock and amazement at the shear effort. It was enough to cheer me for a day or so. But it’s been months now. He still claims he has no idea how to respond, how to return the favour, and I call bullshit. Not that he’s a bad guy, not at all, but one who maybe never considered my feelings or my wants. And why would he? I’m a friend he speaks to a couple times a month at maximum. A casual relationship.

Well, there’s no such thing for me. I can’t fathom not wanting to be close to the people I like, to the friends I care for. I like to think of myself as a genuine person, but lately my moves have been too earnest that I have been letting my guard down and getting my feelings hurt.

I don’t want to go back to being manipulative. I don’t want to be shrewd anymore. I want to find peace in living a life where I do the work I don’t like and then play around with friends and tv and the internet, but do all that knowing that my efforts are appreciated in a real way - in a balanced relationship where I feel cared for too. It’s getting to the point where I am becoming resentful of both my life and others for making me feel this way. Tonight I had more anger in me than in a very long time and that mad me very sad.

And so I have been listening to Bryan Ferry all day. It hasn’t helped.