I never realized that I was so dependent on one person for happiness. I talked to Cathleen (aka apepeeling) for the first time in two weeks. She has been in China, gorging on yummy food and playing a sunny role for her relative's benefit. Meanwhile, I have been in Dallas, slowly falling apart. Its the same every time I return to this languid, corpulent place. I feel suffocated by the demands of my parents and my own unwilling future. I am disgusted by this materialistic and vacuous city. I am disgusted by the person that I am here, and how other people view me. It's almost like I start to forget who I was, that person that I loved so much and was so proud of in Chicago. That life and world I so carefully constructed was completely blown to the wind.
I desperately missed Chicago, and my close friends there. For someone with the aim of being happy regardless of circumstance, such emotions are indeed alarming. Have I become so attached in such a short time? How am I going to be able to leave it in a short 1.5 years? Since arriving in Dallas, my identity was slowly dissolved, I became off-center, and I found myself plagued with worry.
Then a phone conversation with Cathleen, and somehow everything was lucid again, and I was happy again. I can't explain how it happened. Was it the comfort of talking to someone who knows me so well? Was it become we share the same philosophies? Was love the restoring factor? I don't know, but such dependency scares the shit out of me.
So encouraged by Cathleen, I even managed to call up Turdman and voice all of my grievances. After a brutal wrestling of rhetoric and a slight catharsis, he began to understand my perspective and was apologetic. He even said that "he will try to make me happy". Wow. I never thought I'd hear those words out of him.
So, in conclusion, I am happy because I was reminded of myself by my dear friend, and such happiness begets more happiness. I look forward to going back to Chicago. Cathleen and I have planned to indulge some of our favorite activities: a shop-lifting heist, a night of psychedelics, and urban spelunking: exploring some projects on 29th street. It's nice to have concrete plans. My abstract philosophies are too easily lost.
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