On being a ghost and fragmentation

I'll get this shit out of the way first. Been listening to this song far too much.

And I always find, yeah, I always find something wrong
You been puttin' up wit' my shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at findin' what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us to have a toast

Let's have a toast for the douche-bags,
Let's have a toast for the assholes,
Let's have a toast for the scumbags,
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast to the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off
Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can





Hiatus uplifted. That only took about two months until I felt the need to write something like this again. I was going to contextualize my boredom but I figured if you're reading this then you probably get it.

I've been a ghost. I'm a lost soul searching this world for something I left behind. I'm haunting but no one sees me. Nobody believes in ghosts. I moved a chair in my room and noticed some cobwebs between it and the wall. Dust covers the surfaces of everything here. This is where I sleep or where I thought I've slept. I must've died though, it must've been years since a body actually occupied this place. I hardly move. Nothing changes. The world only ages; slow, almost a still life. I haunt the streets I used to walk, the buses I used to ride, and the institutions I never really belonged to. I see a familiar face pass before me and in the moment it takes to register their identity I pause a moment before pursuit. I call out their name but they can't hear me. I scream and cry in vain. On the train somebody calls out to me and I face them. They're unfamiliar to me. Plus I have shitty vision. It's another lost soul, an experienced one that can take on the form of a human being but she's transparent to me. They speak like somebody I know but their identity doesn't register, they're pleased to even see me still roaming the Earth as if I had a choice in the matter. It's not that any of us are celebrities but this is just the way things go. I'll drift on by and through buildings to hear the moans of others. We can't stop and commiserate, not like in the days of life. Not even time for the occasional co-worker relationship consisting entirely of a series of hellos and goodbyes. People don't know where I'll be unless they ask me. My co-workers just presume I'm drinking with friends or conversely, my friends presume I'm working. But this I speak of is being a ghost. To text me is to look for me despite my apparent lack of existence. I am on the same plane as everyone else but if they don't see me they don't know that. It's questionable whether I'm really alive or aware of my Sisyphean search for someone who doesn't see me. To so many I am a ghost. I am only seen in impromptu visits if you don't live or work with me. Back to the metaphor. I'd be the walking dead if my existence wasn't under a spell of vertigo. I've become miasma. I can not reach out to my old friends because they will not recognize me. If they manage to spot me, they'd be made uncomfortable by the apparition I've become; an old soul without a vessel to express my yearning.

My love is more than the sum of all of my fragmented relationships. As defined by Wikipedia: In computer storage, fragmentation is a phenomenon in which storage space is used inefficiently, reducing storage capacity and in most cases performance. The term is also used to denote the wasted space itself. And furthermore: Data fragmentation occurs when a piece of data in memory is broken up into many pieces that are not close together. I've had this concept in my mind awhile now; that I have one fragmented relationship divided among various females. The storage space I've long since reserved for one person is instead taken up by several incomplete relationships. Rather, none of the relationships I have are the one in particular I'd like. So this space in my head and in my heart is wasted. In it's place I have several relationships that collectively would make up one whole girlfriend. I could have arguments over nothing with someone who lacks every other quality necessary in a lover, fortunately I don't have that part of a couple with most anyone. I do have a mostly unrequited chase; that spark that I feel that the other doesn't. Someone has been excited to see me, we hugged and held hands, in this moment I felt a little shy or uncomfortable because I didn't want to lead them on. Repeat that scenario and change the identity of the person I come into contact with, only this time I reciprocate all her affections with no remorse and walked away glowing. I'm very fortunate to even have these very occasional spurts of affection, but it's not enough. It's not what I want. I could gaze into a person's eyes and feel nothing. I can have thoughtless contact mean nothing to someone else meanwhile it's keeping me up all night. I can watch pornography or fantasize over intimacy. But none of it is reliable or complete, it's fragmented and inefficient. Somebody hopes to see me. I'm a little charmed and pleased to see someone. But we aren't the same pair excited to see one another. The space is being wasted. Parts of everyone are being stored away and forgotten. Someone I need is stored in small percentages littered across my memory. Other people are stored beside bits of the last person, completely unrelated and unable to access the parts of my memory taken up by the other fragments. I love. I kiss. I talk. I befriend but never with the same person. My lover's identity is in flux. I can't focus my love because the people who stand before me are dissected and placed together in allocations. The memory of Jane Doe is created, broken up, and divided into everyone I know--male and female.

I do wish this were about defragmentation but it's not. I can't make or fake some magical relationship that doesn't exist. My friend pointed out that I have high expectations out of whoever's to come. I think he's right and if I'm ever to achieve that it'll take time to build up. I've tried to end the fragmentation about once since March and it didn't work. I've had this progressing relationship with this girl and last night I told her I really liked her. She probably would've been weirded out had I said it while I was awake and had she actually been there.