Looking for Myself - Part 2

My brain is a total bitch.

Here I am at 11:00PM, right out of a nice 2 hours of Low Theta 4Hz brain waves mixed with 2 types of rains, thunder and waves, and at my mini laptop typing away because my brain has genius ideas that makes my heart pound with excitement and keep me from sleeping.

I think it began with this new hope for a job. Mom found something in the free newspaper about making ribbons and chocolate boxes, and I have decided to go there tomorrow to check it out and all of a sudden, it's as if ... something rose up again in me; I want that job. In my prayer, I even asked God, to throw me the ladder because I was ready to get out of my well. (It's an old analogy a theology student has shared with me in high school). And, fact is, I am. I am ready to climb out if this chance is given to me. I want to move on, get projects going on, do stuff. And as odd as this may seem, other things in my life been sort of ... like champagne's bubbles bursting into life, which usually happens before a new step of my life is about to begin. I am always more inspired to draw when I am about to go back to school for example.

The last 2 weeks before the end of vacations are the ones where I can draw the most of my sketch book's content! It's almost as if something deep inside of me knew that change was coming ahead. As silly as this might seem, here is a concrete example of the recent past. We came back from vacation from my hometown village in Romania and i had no inspiration and no will what so ever to draw, even less my trademark illustrations and doodles. Part of the reason was the constant presence of Mom around me, sipping away all my energy and will and inspiration, as if I was conditioned to be a mopping half dead potato.

But then, one week before she'd get a phone call from her job that there were orders and she was being needed again, I bloomed like a volcano's wake up. I doodled my stuff, finally uncovered a character I had in mind since over 2 years without really figuring her out on paper, created a whole new one, and been doodling random jokes with my character like there was no tomorrow, even offering myself the luxury of sketching some iconic figures from the 50's. All this happened precisely one week before Mom got her call back and in the following week! How did I knew that it would happen ? (Because i am at my best when i am alone, i work better, i draw better, i have better mood).

Yesterday I was out in downtown and because of a fuck-up and the inability to successfully achieve my errands, i was randomly walking in the Eaton Center and got into this natural products store and got myself a 62$ value 2 bottle "slim down/help with your diet/appetite" kit which I started today and for once I find it efficient. (Of course I didn't quite followed the prescription way of taking it but what the hell, it works!) I also skipped my feta cheesed omelet for a healthy bowl of rice. I did cheat and added 2 hot dogs, and i had a bit of feta in the afternoon, but over all, it seems that this time i might just succeed with my goals.

This new regime triggered the inspiration of a another project which i been pushing off since a couple of years since i never had the perfect - accordingly to my personal taste - template to get it carried out fully.

I want to tattoo 2 names on the sides of my belly and i need a flat tummy for that, for the end result to look as gorgeous as i envision it. And the whole process of the tattooing is like the treat, the winning prize at the end of the challenge. Of course these tattoos are carefully thought out and they hide a secret meaning which came to me in it's full understatement not so long ago, so I am fully aware and wanting this specific tattoo in the way i have designed it. I can always add on details to it - which is also a small detail of why I am currently up and typing.

I was in bed trying to fall asleep, imagining myself at the tattoo shop which i chose where it should be done, i was seeing the guy doing it, and i was seeing the result on paper, us discussing it, and as I was imagining all this, I kept adding significant details to the two parts of the tattoo which excited me even more and thus woke me, instead of making me sleep!

And then I tried to have a "bed time" story that usually makes me fall asleep, because the context of the story has both the image of sleeping and with the fine details makes me want to sleep, but this time, it sort of got carried away and got more adventurous and more brain working than brain tiring!

Then I just kept thinking of the possibilities of me having that new job, the money income wouldn't hurt my bank account and I could shop that new bigger laptop more at ease with my consciousness than now - as i am just sort of shopping and not getting any income of any sort since April (since I quit my last job because i was going mentally nuts).

I also thought of the Christmas presents. Of course, my niece is the first person that comes to mind when I think of Christmas shopping. She's a cute little child and I have a heart and a mind of a child, so she's pretty clear to figure out : If I melt and want something, it's about a 100% chances that she would like it too!

And then a sort of a crazy idea came to me. I imagined myself getting 2 beanie plush, same animal, same size, because one would go for my own child and one for her, so that there wouldn't be any jealousy among the two.

The question is, or the odd factor is, I don't think I'm yet ready for that.

My mind has been sort of pushing the kid idea once in a while, on a daily occasion and I sort of can imagine myself with one, but my rational side only thinks of the negative aspects and i just can't come by that!

Which reminds me of the momentum i imagined of me and the tattoo guy in the shop discussing of the thing before he'd get to work and that whole "no sex" for 8 months and so on and I imagined the following as a pretty close to reality explanation why I wouldn't give a rat's ass about no sex for 8 months.

I was telling that man in my imagination, the real dream i had 2 nights ago.

Dream of the 5th September 2011

I was in a white corridor and at it's end was a room in which a man in a white hospital uniform was there, but I knew he was a patient and even though he was calling for me, I ran away, afraid of him. I felt he had a mental condition and I didn't want to go close.

On my way running to the opposite direction, I turned a corner and saw this little Asian girl who was afraid too and was looking for someone, or just flat out help, so I picked her up and she guided me into a bigger room where there were real Hospital staff people, beds and other patients. I sat down at a cafeteria table's bench seat, with the little girl next to me, and this Asian young man came to talk with me. We got along right after we introduced each other and we were looking at the screen of an electronic tablet. He was showing me information that i wanted to know, because i was really interested in it. At the same time, I took the little girl on my knees, because she was curious too, to show her the animations and the information on the screen. The young man touched my finger tips and this incredible delicious electricity sparked between his fingers and mine. As he was crossing his fingers with mine, the electricity became stronger and warmer and it was just an incredibly arousing yet fulfilling sensation at the same time.

In the next scene, we were in another room, I was on one side of the counter, he was on the other, I was fiddling with a pink very thin gadget-y camera, took his shot, but he got worried and i erased it and then i found the magazine. I opened it and on a page, left side, somewhat near the beginning, I saw a full page of a beardy man in his mid 30's. Tall, strong, wheat blond with tints of rust in his hair and beard, sharp blue eyes - he was smiling and I thought his teeth were a bit too long and i had that classic Red Riding Hood phrase in my head about them. He was wearing the dark navy blue short sleeved uniform of a doctor, arms crossed on the chest, confident smile. So I asked the Asian man if he knew him (the man in the magazine), to which he replied yes, and I asked if he knew how to get in contact with him and he also knew! That man was my quest, in a way, my goal.

And now, to come back to my bed time story moment with the Tattoo guy - I imagined myself asking him to press his fingers against mine, crossing his fingers with mine and nothing would happen and i would explain him my dream and how reality was fade compared to them, and so, that is why i wouldn't miss anything during 8 months. Humans simply are boring and ... not as energetically powerful as dreams, and I have lost interest in the real ones since too long. I am probably asking too much, but I want a man who feels electric, intense at the slightest contact, and yet calm and strong inside as a cathedral, without necessarily looking like that outside - i want a man who's aura shine through, and impressions make statements.

And it's 10 minutes to midnight and I feel more awake and energized than how i was at 9 this morning.

Looking for Myself - Part 1

Saturday night, we have a heat wave over Montreal and I fight it back with my newest sound application on my iPod Touch.

I been thinking over things as of late and some conclusions came to me. When you take the time to think, you take the time to ask the right questions and the answers naturally come to you, as if given by your secret help.

I have dealt with chronic depression most of my life time, starting off real young, having suicidal thoughts and such and I only realize now, the reason for all that time lost in despair.

As a kid I, like most of them, I had dreams, aspirations and goals. I wanted to be a detective. Since I am 8 years old i am fascinated and captivated by the police or law enforcement world, especially detectives who find out the truth through the small clues left behind.

I have been gathering the clues scattered around my life and i am putting together the pieces of the puzzle that is my life.

I have abandoned my dream of a cop, a detective, a police agent, because mom was too afraid for me and my sis - and she still is. My sister wanted to follow the same career, she is now a married woman, a house wife, who spent some considerable years at a beauty products company as a customer service agent on the phone. I have done computer graphics and designs to please dad and he thought i would liked that - and in fact i did, but there was no job opportunities when i finished, and medical archives to please mom who always seen me safe and sound in a hospital doing paper work. I never worked with all that my title as a medical archivist entitles. I merely did clerical work in a private clinic where i thought I'd go mad after the first day and where each day was basically spent dreaming of running away, taking a train to Halifax and forget about myself and my lousy life.

Then I got this job at the small airline company and everything was fine and dandy until we got in the low season at the beginning of the year, up until spring and I thought I'd go mad because basically i had nothing to do. I loved that office, i loved my team, even if i barely spoke with my team leader and felt like a complete useless alien, i did love some aspects - like the location of the office, the exotic of the clientèle, and some other little details, but the burden was becoming too big.

I was unease with myself, with my life and i couldn't pinpoint the key factor. I felt miserable and like a failure, to come to my age without nothing that i had thought was what shaped a life, when i was a little kid. No career, no husband, no house, no pet, not kid.

And i realized, today, that i didn't knew who in fact i was.The detective dream which died left me empty, like a puppet that others manipulated to see their dreams come true through me. I became, by unconscious will or by accident, the chameleon which took the color of their dreams and complied with ease and a smile even.

The bad side of that, is that i made choices which didn't fit my ideals; which contradicted the life style i wanted to have. Being stuck in an office doing repetitive work can soothe me in the sense that i love routine, but it cannot shape my goals and satisfy me in the longer run of things.

I always dreamed of making a difference. In my dreams at night i was always a SWAT type of person, or cop, barging in on miserable poor apartments to free the hostages from the local armed wacko. I saved kids from all sorts of villains. I wanted to become that hero, that cop. It gave my life a sense. Specifically a sense of accomplishment, but overall, a sense of doing the right thing. At 8 years old, i wanted to be a super hero like Superman, Batman and all those. I wanted to save the world. With time, that dream sort of faded away and i thought i died.

And i became the puppet of my parents.

I realize now i was wrong. I wasted my life, my youth, my opportunities of becoming the person i wanted to become.

I often dreamed of joining the army, but there is something about getting up at 5am to clean boots that doesn't come by me. Nor the idea of making my bed, nor the fact that i have to blindly obey a superior. What i love about the army is the training and the missions, saving lives, making a country live better, helping the people in need. I can do that without the army, if i find the right NGO (Non-Governmental-Organization) which i still have some faith left, i will one day.

I would like to travel to those other foreign countries where ppl have real values still in 2011. Where families, friends and good neighborhood-ing are essential every day life questions. I would like to teach poor kids English, so that they'd have a chance in their future. I know I would be a good teacher, I have an ease to share my knowledge with easy simple down to earth communicative ways. I dreamed of teaching my mother tongue, Hungarian, to local Québecois people here - teaching English to Filipino or Vietnamese would be about the same, except, with a purpose and a helping outcome in the future.

I would like to have a simple life, like a monk, with a few essential things and maybe a few hobbies, but not be bothered by money, power and fame questions like everyone in North American seems to be concerned. I don't want a condo downtown. I don't want the year's touch-and-park-alone-bio-electric car. I'll be honestly happy with my Rapunzel doll, my laptop and my iPod watching the rain fall down for weeks.

I want to feel useful and know that i have made a difference in the life of someone, or some people. I want to help get their hopes stronger and shine brighter in the face of adversity! I don't want medals or recognition, i just want to act upon what i have and what i can do to help those who don't have much of a choice in life. Their success would my ultimate thank you, the only recognition and medal i would accept.