GabrielMathews.com | Biological Log

This is such a bizarre and interesting time.

I’m not one to let the readers of this blog, or the readers that are ported over from facebook, into my deeper personal affairs…because frankly, it is silly and unnecessary. However, I suppose it is appropriate for certain things…?…non?

For a little over the last 5 years I was dating a wonderful girl named Lesa. Her links are on the side bar…and you should click on them rapidly to see awesome pictures, stories, and be inspired. We’ve since evolved away from each other. Living together in that circumstance, among many other mental and physical issues that I deal with on a day to day basis have made life a little tricky lately. Lesa told me tonight that she is going to move out in a bit as it will make our friendship easier and her head hurt a little less. I totally understood…so we are trying to figure out where we are both going to live. She wants to stick around “here”…and I think I might either move a little closer in to downtown, or I might take up temporary shelter in a shared home situation or something to save a little green. Either way.

With that said, things just got a little more real. I am entrenching myself in work and creating a social wall. I was thinking about peoples walls on the way home. Some of my friends have walls made of cider block and steel while others have walls that are kind of like Tribbles. The tribble type wash you over with adorable character traits. They distract you with that so you’ll never be able to touch their reality; because…well…that is what those walls are built for. After analyzing this further. I realized that my wall consists mostly of a steep muddy grass hill that is so slippery it is almost not worth the effort so you’ll just walk around the side and avoid me altogether. I like the people that walk on my grassy hill; the people that have good boots, aren’t afraid to get muddy and can appreciate the view from the top once they’ve gotten there. That sounds a little contrived, but again, this is my blog…and I’ll say what I want.

“And all the effort that it took to get here in the first place, and all the effort not to let the effort show”…EBTG/Downhill Racer/Temperamental…great track. Look it up.

Part of me wants to disappear. I don’t know where I could go that my internal predator couldn’t find me. I need to unplug…to much screen glare, polygons, code, and pixels. I want to go camp. Get eaten by a bear…that’d be nuts. Poorly play my crappy guitar on a beach out the back of my van in the spring…too cliche. I could just shut up and get off my ass…but that wouldn’t be as self gratifying as complaining.

My thumb is no longer mutilated. This is a very significant thing. I remember exactly where I was and how old I was when I started doing this habit. I was 4 years old in the front seat of my mom’s car in Dearborn, Michigan driving to a fast food joint. I saw a little dry skin on my thumb and ripped it clean off. Ever since, that emotional connection to such a seemingly insignificant moment was one of few positive moments I’ve had with that lady. Comfort comes from the weirdest places. I think past that, this is the first time in my life that I concurrently have been single, out of school, with a job, and not much connection with anybody in a long long time. Perhaps since I was 4.

Life is silly.

I sat on the porch tonight after a quick trek to 7-11 for some tea and M&Ms. As I drank my tea I was thinking about Metropol in Pittsburgh. Every Thursday night I would go there, dance until my legs felt like they were going to fall off, and stumble home alone. I’d stop at the Shell Station for a treat of a hot dog, green tea, and a dough nut of some sort. It was great. Something happened in between the ages of 22 and now that has left me almost completely paralyzed when it comes to going out to enjoy an evening at a club. It could be age, it could be the music, it could be the scene. I don’t know.

I realize that I am slowly becoming that “guy on the porch”. I just sit there and watch traffic. Like a dog. In a wheelchair.

I decided to do an experiment tonight and force myself to go meet some people and try and have a good time. The outcome echoed that of my experience in Vegas at the party for work. I nursed my phone for lack of a drink. I met up with this awesome girl Ashley (@savvygrl) as she invited me out for a birthday party at Report Lounge. Despite my socially horrified visage, I was having a great time, be it as long as I could constantly nervously tweet about how strange I felt to be off the couch and around other people. Ginger ale and Red Bull for me. At the point I met Ashley after shying away from directly introducing myself, I retreated to an outside bench to continue my digital rant next to a parking barrel.

Mr. Barrel and I having a deep conversation about social anxiety disorders

I felt bad that Ashley kept chasing me down to pull me in. I was giving it the best effort I could without completely melting down. What people don’t seem to understand is that it isn’t about the place or the people or the music. It is about the experience. I am going to continue to try and go out more in the coming weeks to see if I can start to tear down the inhibitions I’ve apparently built for myself.

This guy was pissed! But he did a great job.

Cool photography on the inside of this joint

Here’s to crazy!

~G