theram4jc made this template

to whom it may concern


About Me

Jeff Watkins
Age: Still alive
Occupation: Too many things
For sale on
For sale on eBay Wishlist
My space
My library
My reviews and lists

Previous Posts

The Circle is Complete On Wednesday night at ...
Chewka Cherry Cola
Your almost There This is a title of a fortune co...
Time Justin, remember when we used to sing that H...
Chauffeurs and Chaperones Today's a long story sh...
Easy Living Productions I got my first piece ...
Give Somebody Else The Gun Today, I paid $2.03 fo...
If You Will Please pray for my Dad. I called my M...
Blurb(s) You left me on hold while on the telepho...
Graduate School I got my ethics midterm back and ...

© To Whom It May Concern 2002-2010, except for cited or source material.


Tuesday, May 17, 2005

I Want to Be Your Homepage (?)

I Want to Be Your Homepage (?)

So much to say. Or not.

You would think something worth reading would be written with greater ease. That is, not necessarily faster but more naturally. Usually I find this to be the case. Today I've done a lot of backspacing, but I think this will be substantial.

Substance is in the eye of the blog-reader, I suppose. On that note I'll just be writing about my life as of late. No outstanding revelations to be unveiled tonight. Just boring life stuff. Of course, if that's the way you feel why park your browser on a blogspot?

I'll get on with it.

In my last post I asked for an e-mail adding "I miss you." You might think I'm homesick. It's not that really. Finally leaving Graceville makes me more aware of the effort I need to make to maintain long-distance friendships.

As opposed to homesickness, I've been feeling homeless. We lost our car within a day of getting out of our apartment. For about two weeks, until Donna's semester was over, we stayed at Ms. Connie's. She let us use the truck to get around town. She even insisted that we sleep in her room. During that time she occupied a cot in the living room. Ms. Connie is just like a mom to us and in this way there is no arguing with her. As much as I fought it there was no escaping her hospitality. In this way it was exactly like home to us. Except when you're in someone else's house you can't help but not get completely comfortable. That is, "mi casa es su casa" only goes so far. And, unless you're totally uncooth, you can never make yourself completely at home.

For the next 9 days we can be found here at Donna's mom's house. But I want to go in our new place. I'm homesick for it even though I've never lived there. I reckon this is about as logical as marrying an internet girlfriend. It's like they say, when you know you know. I know where I belong. I know my place. I'm ready to get there, get settled and put down roots.

Or something like that.

I want to go home but clicking my heels doesn't get the job done. I'll just have to sit here and watch the clock. I've tried to be a good boy and hang up my clothes but I feel like I've been living out of a laundry basket for some time now. Even in my own apartment. I thank the "nice folks" in charge of Graceland Manor for part of that. When you can't be sure when they'll bust in you can never stay comfortable for long.

Still most of the blame lies with me. I haven't been serious enough about life to make a house a home. I've always kept things feeling temporary. For example, at Books-A-Million I always kept the mindset that I would not be permanently trapped there. Because of this, though I made friends, I tended to think of them as placeholders. They helped me get through the day but held no long-term significance in my mind. That's not fair and it's no way to live.

Fleeing high school to college I fled from unfair characterizations which had been made of me. It was gratifying to escape all that baggage. I soon learned the tragic truth that no matter how hard a person tries to be authentic they'll still be unfairly chracterized and put into a proverbial box. Yes, even at a Christian college. Especially there. I went there feeling like I could trust mostly anyone. I got burned. On multiple occassions. By people I hadn't really done anything to. I was disliked for the same stupid kind of reasons that I hadn't been liked in high school.

It's true: I could be a jerk, I wasn't the best student and I wasn't very faithful about going to church but mostly they didn't have a reason. They just didn't like me. "Didn't like" is an understatement. Despite is more like it. All because of a story they heard from their sister or because they didn't like my jokes or I made a weird face or because my eyes move. Stupid reasons.

I let this kind of thing get the best of me and as a result (to quote a song) "my give a damn was busted". I became apathetic. You should never let yourself do this. As soon as I did the positive effect that I had dwindled. It's more obvious now. Apathy is worse than death. It's the gift that keeps on sucking the life out. I'm going to change this. I'm going to "give a damn."

Or else. Or else I won't be able to stand myself.

Only when I really care will I be able to make myself at home.

posted by Chase at 6:33 PM


Post a Comment

<< Home