Don Mann: Focusing on my Craft

Thursday, Feb. 26, 2004 - 5:15 p.m.

It's been a long time, webdiary, and I've not forgotten about you.

I'm in a strange state of mind right now, and have an overwhelming sense of...closure? Maybe that's the word I'm looking for. I just suddenly feel like something has locked into place in the air around me, some kind of puzzle piece has been turned and fallen into position, reavealing some larger picture which I'm now trying to understand.

I don't feel particularly useful anymore. Not that I suggest I was some invaluable gear in the clockwork of my society, but the small part I played in my circle of friends and my position in life seems to have been editted out, and now I'm standing offstage watching the other players break their legs to an amazed crowd.

I'm speaking in ridiculous metaphors now. I know this, and perhaps it's some sort of defense mechanism, because the words I want to say will sound so much more cruel than the silly ways I'm currently saying them. For the sake of translation, I'll be blunt, frank, and up front about it.

I am (once was) the glue that holds(held) my friends together. When something happened or I could find any way at all, I'd bring my friends together, mediate, and endorse overall togetherness in the group. I was the car that drove you to your girlfriend's house. I was the guy who talked to your boyfriend for you because you couldn't say what you felt. I was the one who settled your dumbass argument so that you didn't ruin an otherwise perfect friendship. I was the one who advised you on what to do in this or that situation. I was the one who held it all together. I was always alone.

I remember one of the most powerful realizations I've ever had, it happened probably 6 months ago, although I've been told it several times.

"You don't really seem like you belong in that group. You're very different from all the rest."

I've heard this said to me about ten times in the last couple years, in serious conversation. It's a pity it took so long to sink in...because it's true. I'm different, despite the fact that I don't want to be. I find myself now always trying to fit in. Everywhere I go, it's essential that I be a part of this group I try so hard to hold together. It's foolish, childish, and self-destructive. It's about time I recognize who I am, and not what I want to be.

I went to NYC the other day for the MSI concert I'm sure you all know about since you probably all follow these events much more carefully than I do. I've never felt more...singled out and uncomfortable. I think it was partly this event that has set my mood for today. I just didn't feel like I belonged there in the least. That's the main reason I left early halfway through the set that seemed to have everyone else shitting their pants but left me completely unaffected. I don't know why I do things sometimes. The whole NYC trip was, somewhere deep in my subconscious, supposed to be an outing where I'd serve a good purpose, become closer to my friends, and see a new place.

Objective one: Serve a good purpose.

I feel I fulfilled this sufficiently. I served the same purpose as a bus, only more bitchy and selective about music.

Objective Two: Become closer to my friends.

I failed this objective. I feel more exiled now than before it began.

Objective Three: See a new place.

Failed miserably. Between driving through white-knuckle traffic and tight highways to frusrating half-second glimpses of beautiful scenes, I felt like I could have seen so much more but didn't because I was too focused on not crashing my car. Then, when the chance finally arose, my lack of driving skill led to me being exhausted in the city, and I laid in my car for 3 hours instead of roaming around taking in the scenery. I accept my own stupidity as a viable reason for failing this objective. Oh yeah, and I didn't get any pictures, so don't bother asking.

I can't stand this place another second, knowing I have no purpose and knowing that I don't belong.

Delve Into The Past - Onward Into The Future