I think I know why I like Citizen Cane...its an American Hero tragedy, perhaps one I am destined to repeat. This story will be about Max Parker Dahl.
"Mr. Kane was a man who got everything he wanted and then lost it. Maybe Rosebud was something he couldn't get, or something he lost. Anyway, it wouldn't have explained anything... I don't think any word can explain a man's life. No, I guess Rosebud is just a... piece in a jigsaw puzzle... a missing piece"
Pieces of a jig-saw puzzle is all I am, a puzzle with a few missing pieces.
LOVE: Is it the a great phenomenon of human nature, or the nature of phenomenal human beings?
"That's all he ever wanted out of life... was love. That's the tragedy of Charles Foster Kane. You see, he just didn't have any to give."
Leland: "You don't care about anything except you. You just want to persuade people that you love 'em so much that they ought to love you back. Only you want love on your own terms. Something to be played your way, according to your rules."
Charles Foster Kane: "A toast, Jedediah: to Love on my own terms"
Susan: "Love! You don't love anybody! Me or anybody else! You want to be loved - that's all you want! I'm Charles Foster Kane. Whatever you want - just name it and it's yours! Only love me! Don't expect me to love you"
MY TERMS:
Somehow I always get what I want. Somehow I didn't start life with an inheritance that made me an indispensable playboy...but I want my Charles Foster Kane lifestyle, I'm aiming for a Bruce Wayne progeny to come along and do SOMETHING with what I've done.
I rarely set goals, because I feel empty when I fail. It sucks to fail. When I set goals, somehow they get accomplished:
Mission: Done, and done well
Meet a girl on the plane ride home, and kiss her: Done-but boy was it awkward
Make my father proud: For now, i'm gauging and projecting a "Mission Accomplished"
Approach a girl that makes me uncharacteristically nervous, and act normal: DONE DEAL
I devised a scheme on my mission, approach the fliest hunnie I saw at school...and talk to her-admit that she scared me, and ask to be her friend/get her number/hang out---whatever I could to overcome that repulsive instinct to sweat and stammer and laugh nervously. I wanted the confidence of Charles Foster Kane, and I'm on the warpath, releasing my primal scream into the mist of the Cache Valley inversion.
Last semester I saw a girl named Jessica. She made me nervous; more sweaty palmed than I had ever been. I saw her again and again, and every day I was more impressed and intimidated. One day I stopped her "I've noticed you around, what's your name?" "beautiful Jessica, the Diadem"(or so I heard it) I loved her confidence: her pixie haircut--shorter than my hair! her body language that said 'i'm comfortable with your affront', her nose ring, and a wit that matched mine (SPEED baby, SPEED) We talked about Guatemala and orphanages and earrings...when I saw her shift into the 'I need to leave so I make it to class on time' stance, I triumphed over my cowering tongue and willed it to ask "So, can I have your number??" the answer came hesitantly "i'm not single...does that matter?" ***"NOT AT ALL"***
I waited out last semester. I texted her intermittently, she continued to date the same boy. This semester I brushed into her intermittently, she has continued to date the same boy...but SOMEHOW once I set my goal, the fields of magnetism have pulled in my favor. "LOVE on my terms". Walking to class, she stopped me to ask "when are we going to hang out?"; and I croaked "whenever you call me..." It happened again two days later, "when?" 'Why didn't you call?' WHATEVER.
I called, we met for jazz and crepes at our gemstone of a venue. I was aloof, I hadn't set "my terms"; she was too flirtatious. I was still too reserved and screaming on the inside. She committed to a hug, I opted for a side hug--I still held "the terms and agreements" in my hands (whoever cares less holds the greatest power) she pointedly said (emphasized with an extended pointer finger) "We'll definitely hang out again, next time i'll pay: CALL me"
Two weeks of resistance, (on her end, not mine) we met for lunch today in the infamous SKYROOM. She was expecting the normal crew, but my regular homies bailed on me. It was just her and I...for a minute or two. (ENTER GRANT CUMMINGS) Another unexplained anomaly--how did I get to be close to Grant, and why was I NEVER in the same class with him, if we went to school for 13 years together??
The three of us had an enjoyable lunch. I had to lie outright to Sarah to be seated(but I hate her, and she shares mutual disdain rooted in 2004 lifeguarding experiences) APPARENTLY this Valentine's lunch was 'reservation only' ("Sarah, why WOULDN'T I call? I'm certain Andrew put all of our names down for today") It should've been the most trying and awkward experiences of my life: the coolest kid in school that I've NEVER talked to extensively, and the ONE girl on campus that makes me nervous. I felt reigned in like Phillipe the Clydesdale in the spooky forest in Beauty and the Beast "where have you taken us Phillipe?" My instincts were defunct, but I was spurred forward. I ate like a horse to cover how odd I acted...otherwise "my terms" would be surrendered...i'd rather die like Gen. Custard.
She texted me later: she is still completely committed to her boy, but strangely interested in me. She wanted to know what I wanted...
I just want to be loved by everyone, without having to make myself vulnerable by loving them. The irony stings, i'm listening to a song that poses "You've got to give a little love, give a little love, give a little love to get a little love" That 3:1 ratio is unacceptable to me, a Neo-"Kane"-enite. (Those Caanan days, where have they gone...where did they go?)
I want what HE wanted: success, prestige, a challenge, to be an HONEST politician, a man of values and integrity that says "no, thank you" to the pressures of the world...to do my own thing and be loved by everyone.
The message from Orson Wells remains: Rosebud can represent something I never achieved, or achieved and lost because of the choices I made. I fear I could lose people and chances to love them if I continue on my fools voyage for the praise and adoration of EVERYONE. It won't ever happen, but why not? Couldn't I try? I HAVE accomplished what I put my mind and soul into...the key is "what am I doing it for"
RIGHT?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Pieces of Mind 2
I am at Utah State, running with the "Aggies" who all seem to carry an attitude--I wasn't excluding myself at all, but everyone here has a grudge that they harbor against someone else....BYU for example, is hated without reason by 3/4 of the student body.
Mine is: girls here who think that I am attracted to them. I understand that we aren't in high school...but I don't understand why people cannot talk to each other if they haven't been formally introduced by a mutual friend. I DON'T CARE if you are married, or have a boyfriend...i'm not talking to you because I want to capture you and have children with you! I talk to people because my voice works, and I rather enjoy the sound of my own voice...and talking to oneself can prove socially awkward.
Its a disconnect of motives and goals...girls in their late teens/early twenties want to be MARRIED, while I simply want to talk and enjoy the "bronze" years of my life. Never again will I be so free and able...why would I want to terminate it prematurely by attaching myself to a strange girl? When I marry, it will be to someone I know, and trust and love...but what if I don't like the choices of girls that are offered to me at the moment? I need to talk to strange new girls and see if we can be friends! My logic is sound, at least in my mind.
Let me explain the "Bronze Years". If the "Golden Years" are when you are old and 'valuable', then before that, when you are responsible and taking care of a family, holding down a job-yada yada yada...(the boring years) are your 'Silver Years'...when you are earning your silver hair. The stage I consider myself in is labeled "the Bronze Years" where you are HARD and IMPENETRABLE and OPINIONATED without logic or reason-all of which are refined until you reach "Golden" status, which is forty years or so away. Taking the metaphor further, the 'Clay Years' are the first 20 years when you are most malleable and mold-able. You take things in, change shape due to others' influence...you learn.
The "Bronze Years" are connected through schism, between male and female. This is where ALL my trouble sprouts and turns into delicate shoots of angst and frustration. Bronze years for boys includes discovery, recklessness, shouting at the stars when their favorite yellow sweater is RUINED by the grime in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It is instictive: Hunt, kill, laugh, eat, repeat. Physical prime and mental wiring warrants such behavior.
For Bronzing co-eds, life consists of acting clueless, blown aimlessly from starboard to port in the gale of life, and standing completely informed and expert. They cry together over jerk boys, who they are helplessly magnetized towards. They are somehow deluded into thinking they can override the programing and instinct in a 'Bronze Boi' and stand firm until the beast rips away and takes the female's heart with him. "Call in the experts!!" Gather round and 'we'll over-analyze everything and coddle you into further dementia regarding Bronze boys.' Paralleling the beast, It is purely instinctive: BABIES, BABIES, BABIES!! Physical prime warrants such. Ten more years and these 'silver backs' will be without fertile oocytes to harness the "ever-bronze" seed! Girls are ticking like clock-work, month after month...Boys are the key, the unpredictable, unreliable key.
What bothers me most about these 'Bronze Beauties" is how willingly and whimsically they throw themselves at the 'Bronze Beast'. There needs to be some semblance of balance between "BABIES, BABIES, BABIES" and standing firm for something...at least in my mind. Beauties will move in with Beasts to satiate the said Beasts' appetite, and HOPE and PINE for loyalty and reliability...which is found nowhere in the "HARD IMPENETRABLE HUNT KILL EAT LAUGH REPEAT" instinct. The most instinctive and wild of "beasts" seem to get the best of the "beauties", who tear them down most because the 'beauty' had such high hopes of getting what she wanted: Babies, and stability. Beast ALWAYS gets what he wants "the KILL the EAT and the LAUGH" and moves on. (I haven't decided if KILL or EAT is sex, you decide-hope you grasped the metaphor by now ;-)
The reason for the RANT, I feel like i'm different. I don't want SEX. If that is what keeps most through the "Bronze, Silver, and Gold" years, they can keep it. I want conversation, I want friendship, I want trust, I want understanding, I want someone I understand--who forgives, who understands the Savior, who pushes me...NONE of these girls here have those things...at least not the few that I know. And the thousands I don't know think i'm there to "HUNT KILL EAT LAUGH" and move on. In MY deluded mind, CONVERSATION is not equal to SEXUAL INTERACTION. There is some strange trigger...if you are introduced through a mutual friend, girls lose their footing and are blown about in every-which-way.
There are only two extremes in my life: You simply don't know me...or you DO, and you are THROWING yourself at me!! Don't throw yourself at me! I DON'T WANT YOU! This is just my "attitude" that I carry around, this is my perception of the fallacy of the world, this is my 'sapling' of angst and frustration.
Mine is: girls here who think that I am attracted to them. I understand that we aren't in high school...but I don't understand why people cannot talk to each other if they haven't been formally introduced by a mutual friend. I DON'T CARE if you are married, or have a boyfriend...i'm not talking to you because I want to capture you and have children with you! I talk to people because my voice works, and I rather enjoy the sound of my own voice...and talking to oneself can prove socially awkward.
Its a disconnect of motives and goals...girls in their late teens/early twenties want to be MARRIED, while I simply want to talk and enjoy the "bronze" years of my life. Never again will I be so free and able...why would I want to terminate it prematurely by attaching myself to a strange girl? When I marry, it will be to someone I know, and trust and love...but what if I don't like the choices of girls that are offered to me at the moment? I need to talk to strange new girls and see if we can be friends! My logic is sound, at least in my mind.
Let me explain the "Bronze Years". If the "Golden Years" are when you are old and 'valuable', then before that, when you are responsible and taking care of a family, holding down a job-yada yada yada...(the boring years) are your 'Silver Years'...when you are earning your silver hair. The stage I consider myself in is labeled "the Bronze Years" where you are HARD and IMPENETRABLE and OPINIONATED without logic or reason-all of which are refined until you reach "Golden" status, which is forty years or so away. Taking the metaphor further, the 'Clay Years' are the first 20 years when you are most malleable and mold-able. You take things in, change shape due to others' influence...you learn.
The "Bronze Years" are connected through schism, between male and female. This is where ALL my trouble sprouts and turns into delicate shoots of angst and frustration. Bronze years for boys includes discovery, recklessness, shouting at the stars when their favorite yellow sweater is RUINED by the grime in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It is instictive: Hunt, kill, laugh, eat, repeat. Physical prime and mental wiring warrants such behavior.
For Bronzing co-eds, life consists of acting clueless, blown aimlessly from starboard to port in the gale of life, and standing completely informed and expert. They cry together over jerk boys, who they are helplessly magnetized towards. They are somehow deluded into thinking they can override the programing and instinct in a 'Bronze Boi' and stand firm until the beast rips away and takes the female's heart with him. "Call in the experts!!" Gather round and 'we'll over-analyze everything and coddle you into further dementia regarding Bronze boys.' Paralleling the beast, It is purely instinctive: BABIES, BABIES, BABIES!! Physical prime warrants such. Ten more years and these 'silver backs' will be without fertile oocytes to harness the "ever-bronze" seed! Girls are ticking like clock-work, month after month...Boys are the key, the unpredictable, unreliable key.
What bothers me most about these 'Bronze Beauties" is how willingly and whimsically they throw themselves at the 'Bronze Beast'. There needs to be some semblance of balance between "BABIES, BABIES, BABIES" and standing firm for something...at least in my mind. Beauties will move in with Beasts to satiate the said Beasts' appetite, and HOPE and PINE for loyalty and reliability...which is found nowhere in the "HARD IMPENETRABLE HUNT KILL EAT LAUGH REPEAT" instinct. The most instinctive and wild of "beasts" seem to get the best of the "beauties", who tear them down most because the 'beauty' had such high hopes of getting what she wanted: Babies, and stability. Beast ALWAYS gets what he wants "the KILL the EAT and the LAUGH" and moves on. (I haven't decided if KILL or EAT is sex, you decide-hope you grasped the metaphor by now ;-)
The reason for the RANT, I feel like i'm different. I don't want SEX. If that is what keeps most through the "Bronze, Silver, and Gold" years, they can keep it. I want conversation, I want friendship, I want trust, I want understanding, I want someone I understand--who forgives, who understands the Savior, who pushes me...NONE of these girls here have those things...at least not the few that I know. And the thousands I don't know think i'm there to "HUNT KILL EAT LAUGH" and move on. In MY deluded mind, CONVERSATION is not equal to SEXUAL INTERACTION. There is some strange trigger...if you are introduced through a mutual friend, girls lose their footing and are blown about in every-which-way.
There are only two extremes in my life: You simply don't know me...or you DO, and you are THROWING yourself at me!! Don't throw yourself at me! I DON'T WANT YOU! This is just my "attitude" that I carry around, this is my perception of the fallacy of the world, this is my 'sapling' of angst and frustration.
Pieces of Mind
Hey ya'll. I typed up a hyped up explanation, but somehow it disappeared.
I enjoy writing, and sometimes people enjoy my writing (this is already worse than take 1). I have been prodded and goaded to continue my rants and escapades that I began documenting regularly on my mission...GO BUCKS!!
This past semester I have tried to keep an "oral history" of how I feel, but all the people that would willingly listen are currently/planning on being married. That smells like loneliness cooking in the kitchen, so I decided to ride the bandwagon "to the death" by posting my opinions and views.
At times I may be offensive, and immature, but spewing out all the garbage inside of me is how I learn and grow and cope with the inexplicable world around me. This is how I see things, how I react to things...I feel I'll be "sharpening the axe" of when I REALLY have to state my opinion, or write something of significance.
I have been accurately described as "the embodiment of contradictions", typically working in a state of "predictable unpredictability"...its enough to kill a person.
Let me know if anyone other than myself reads this, and what you think about my observations, and how to GET OVER whatever is bugging me.
Thanks, Love you
M. Parker Dahl
I enjoy writing, and sometimes people enjoy my writing (this is already worse than take 1). I have been prodded and goaded to continue my rants and escapades that I began documenting regularly on my mission...GO BUCKS!!
This past semester I have tried to keep an "oral history" of how I feel, but all the people that would willingly listen are currently/planning on being married. That smells like loneliness cooking in the kitchen, so I decided to ride the bandwagon "to the death" by posting my opinions and views.
At times I may be offensive, and immature, but spewing out all the garbage inside of me is how I learn and grow and cope with the inexplicable world around me. This is how I see things, how I react to things...I feel I'll be "sharpening the axe" of when I REALLY have to state my opinion, or write something of significance.
I have been accurately described as "the embodiment of contradictions", typically working in a state of "predictable unpredictability"...its enough to kill a person.
Let me know if anyone other than myself reads this, and what you think about my observations, and how to GET OVER whatever is bugging me.
Thanks, Love you
M. Parker Dahl
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