Elliot's Ramblings

Hey! I'm Elliot, currently a college student. This blog will be a reflections-in-the-shower type of place for me to get my thoughts down on text. Maybe you'll laugh, maybe you'll cry; I can't really guarantee what you'll get out of this blog. The important thing, though, is that you do gain something from reading this blog. So sit back, and enjoy your stay.

[elliotsramblings]

I know you don't love me anymore. I know you don't have feelings for me. Or maybe you do, but pushing me away is your way of making sure they don't bubble up. I don't know, but either way, you've been incredibly inconsiderate towards me. I get it, we're no longer together and you have no romantic obligation to care about my feelings. But we're still supposed to be friends, and friends that have been as close as we were aren't supposed to just stop caring about each other. Friends care about friends' feelings - let alone best friends, which we were still supposed to be. You were understanding and nice on the day we broke up. You said you understood my pain, that you felt like a dick, and that if I wanted to see our relationship off the right way, then we could. But every day after that felt like an exercise in humiliation. I want to keep you updated on my progress, how I've been handling my grief, my regrets, and the ways I've been trying to change. Maybe those feelings are too intimate, and you don't want them to encroach on that territory of romantic feelings. That's understandable. But still, every time you push me away, you manage to throw in just enough jabs to make me feel like I shouldn't have been vulnerable with you. I don't want to hear you joking about seeing other guys, or be the butt of your jokes because I'm the one that still hasn't moved on yet. You had months to sit on your feelings and come to peace with our relationship, all while I was blissfully unaware. Then my life flips upside down, and I'm given all of one day to collect my feelings before I'm unceremoniously evicted out of your heart. Our relationship ends when I least expect it, I'm told I'm the bad guy and the cause of our relationship crumbling, and if that weren't enough now I'm the butt of jokes about what we were. Most days feel like I'm showing up for another shift of being humiliated and having my feelings belittled. I'll insist that we call, because you're not nearly as sarcastically callous when we're talking, and things will feel OK again for a moment before we go back to texting and again I'm facing the emotional wall you've put up. Maybe you're still hurting too and this is your way of managing. I just wanted to open my heart up to you and keep you updated on my progress, and at times I've made jokes that cross a line of intimacy I'm not even supposed to toe. I deserve pushback then. I think about how we were back in 2020, and I want to bring the magic back, but at times that desire can cloud my judgement. I won't ruminate on those times, because we both know what it was, and I don't think the memories of those times will ever fade for either of us. These days I cycle through thinking back on those times, finding the motivation to try and fix the parts of our relationship that I was responsible for bringing down, only to get sarcastically rebuffed in a way that makes me question why I even bothered. If your goal is to stamp out the last vestiges of love I might still feel for you, congrats. Mission accomplished. Every day I find it harder and harder to hold on to the feelings I once had, memories of the girl that loved me so much I questioned what I even did to deserve it. I pushed on for as long as I did because I wanted to believe that deep down inside, you still cared about me, and that this was just an icy facade I could melt if I just tried hard enough. But maybe that's not true. Maybe you've already moved on, and I'm the clown making a fool of himself. This is a lot I'm throwing at you, and maybe none of it is true, or all of it is. I thank you for at least sitting through this jumble of words. But what I know to be 100% true are the feelings of hurt and embarrassment I've been experiencing. It feels good to at least get it off my chest, and to finally communicate my emotions to you in a way that I haven't been able to for a while now. I know I've been emotionally closed off. I don't know if you love me anymore. Maybe you do, or maybe that hope I've been clinging to is why I've been getting pushed back.

[elliotsramblings]

I'm tired of everything being my fault. Every time you talk about our relationship and why we didn't work out, it was all me - my BS, my lack of empathy, the things I didn't do (or did). I was ready to give you my heart, my life, my everything, but you weren't ready. We were at different points in life. There's nothing wrong with that, but I just want you to know that you weren't the only one playing a waiting game. I wanted to keep things progressing. I wanted to introduce you to my parents, I wanted to get married, to find a home together, have a family of cats and dogs and maybe a human one day. There's a lot of that that you didn't want, or at least not until you were ready. I don't blame you for that, but can you blame me for getting complacent when I've been waiting so long? There was always something off in your life, and often times you'd never have a concrete plan or timeline on when things would get fixed, so I was always left feeling like I was in limbo. Just waiting and waiting and waiting. There were a lot of times I just wanted to tell you that there is never going to be a perfect moment to commit to the next stage of our relationship, or if it exists, we'd both be in our 30s by the time the stars aligned. I was ready to accept you as you were. I was in love, and I didn't care if you were some idealized version of yourself or not, and I should have told you that more. I just wanted to be with you. But how long would I have to wait until you felt ready to meet my parents? How long was I supposed to wait until you were ready to be married (you didn't want a large wedding, and to be honest I didn't want a huge one either. Just something intimate with enough people that I wouldn't feel like we had no friends). But you didn't want that either. To me, it just sounded like you wanted some vague future where we aren't married, but we are together. Where we can't agree on where to live, but maybe we'd wander forever like vagabonds, never committing to any one place. To me, it just sounded like you don't and didn't know what you wanted for our future, just that you wanted us to be together. That's a nice sentiment, but I just want you to know, from my perspective it's hard to get excited about something so vague. I need a concrete image of what to expect, what we're working towards, and what we want to commit to. I should have communicated that that's what I need, and I'm sorry for bottling that up instead of telling you. But while we're on the subject, that's the other thing about you - you're afraid of commitment. You have trust issues, but love and relationships are inherently an exercise in trust. And don't get me wrong - I felt your love, and that you were willing to be vulnerable with me. You opened your heart to me, and it meant the world to me, and no matter how things turn out, I will always ALWAYS appreciate it. But while you were willing to commit to our relationship, it didn't feel like you were willing to commit to our future because we wanted different things. And that's fine, you don't have to want the things I do, nor do you have to be on the same timeline of life as me. But I'm tired of it being painted as being all my fault. It's not. All the waiting and ambiguity is what made me complacent. You have your problems, and I have mine. If you want to say most of the fault in our relationship is on me, that's fine too. I think that's true. I can accept that. But I think if we're both going to be better people moving forward, it can't just be me being the villain. We both have our faults. I loved you, and I don't know if I'll love you again, but no matter what the outcome is, this is something I have to let you know.

[elliotsramblings]

Ego

My self-confidence always fluctuates between “I’m the greatest being alive” to “I’m literal human garbage”. I wish I could find some stability.

[elliotsramblings]

Adulthood

What does being an adult mean? Growing up, I thought I would just kinda know when it finally happened, but I’ll be damned if that’s true. For the most part I’ve checked off most of the requirements a younger me would have written down for adulthood (minus the ‘Finding a significant other’ part. Still working on that.), but I don’t feel confident that I’ve reached that point yet. Life is sill an uncertain, wild ride for me - I don’t know where my career goals will take me, and I’m not sure what grad school I’ll end up studying at. My parents are getting older by the day and suddenly the people around me are getting married. Soon they’ll be having kids and getting promotions. It’s all happening too fast for me to look around and feel like I’m older. 9 years from now, when I finally hit 30, will I feel like an adult? I’m not so sure anymore.

[elliotsramblings]

Dreaming

A pleasant surprise drifted into my life over the past couple days - I’ve been consistently receiving dreams in my sleep. The first dream, three days ago, I thought was your average, one-off dream.

It was a strange one - I’m still not sure what it means or if it has any implications on my mental state. I was walking through a park vaguely reminiscent of Central Park. It was the middle of the night and dimly lit - the lights illuminated the path so that it wasn’t pitch black, but just enough to leave almost anyone feeling ominous. (I want to say I was walking with some friends, but that detail seems to have been lost to the caverns of my brain). We were walking out of a thicket of trees, when the shrill cry of a baby suddenly pierced the air.

“Mama! Papa! They left me!” the voice cried out. 

As I walked by an overpass, I craned my head to look down below. There, next to a sewage outfall, was a newborn baby. It was crying desperately, repeating the same phrase over and over again. I wanted to help, of course, but even in a dream there was no way I was going to go down there. I’ll be dream-damned if my dream-self died being an idiot. I ended up calling the police to retrieve this newborn, and that’s when I woke up.

After that night, I started remembering more and more of my dreams. It’s to the point where I can lie in bed, looking forward to the dream I’ll have. I’m still not sure if that first dream had any significance (maybe my consciousness is trying to tell me to be braver?), but whatever the case may be, I’m grateful to be finally dreaming. I’ve always wanted to be in the “I can remember my dreams” club!

[elliotsramblings]

Time

I’m not sure how I feel about time. As a kid, it seemed like the only thing I could ever look forward too - I couldn’t wait to be an adult, and to finally have my own freedom (and money). But now that that’s seemingly come to pass, time hasn’t really given me the chance to look around and appreciate what I have. I’m going to have my own job very soon, and I’ll probably move out of my parents’ home soon after that. The problem is that so will everyone else. The friends and family that I had once grown up with, the network of support that I had grown so accustomed to over the years, are about to drift apart like a billion different balloons set free to the sky. Some of them will inevitably catch on a stray branch floating away, in which case I’ll gladly pull them back, but for the most part I can’t fly up and stop all of them from going. And that’s what frustrates me - I’m about to start a new chapter of my life, a brand new, exciting one to be sure, but I’m going to have to do it with an almost completely different cast of people around me. It’s scary and uncertain, but the cold reality of time won’t stop for me or anyone else. It keeps ticking, and ticking, and ticking. Dragging us all along at its pace, indifferent to who gets trampled along the way.

[elliotsramblings]

My time at Illinois

Social Skills

I definitely became a more outgoing person after my time at UIUC (or at the very least I got a lot better at faking that I am). One thing that I notice is that I’ve stopped being afraid of most conversations - the stream of constant social contact that CFC had provided me with over the years has almost made me indifferent to most social interactions.

Whereas I used to fret constantly over how conversations would play out or what I would say in reply to certain responses, nowadays I don’t really think about how or what I’m going to say most of the time. That, in itself, is also a problem - I’ve noticed that I’m much more prone to unintentionally coming across as more callous or rude than I mean to be these days (I’m working on it!). But I can’t really complain, because to me this is a small price to pay in exchange for becoming a much better communicator. I’d rather be able to get my thoughts across in an imperfect manner than to have never verbalized them in the first place.

And yet, I still feel as though my progression hasn’t stopped. In the final weeks of my internship, I set up meetings with a certain co-worker to discuss how I can become a better talker, both in the workplace and out of it. I’d noticed that I still struggle with drawing conversation out of quieter people or feigning enthusiasm in conversations I don’t really care about. Working on guiding more conversations, instead of being a passive listener in most conversations, and encouraging others through my facial expressions and body language is definitely a change that I hope to make. That, to me, is a big pride point - I didn’t just stop with whatever skills I picked up at UIUC, but I took it with me and made it my own. Whatever progress I made as a communicator over there, I’m still building on over here. When I came back to New Jersey, a lot of friends said they could see a change in me. Hopefully, when I eventually make my way back to Illinois, my friends over there will be able to say the same thing.

[elliotsramblings]

My time at Illinois

I’ve tried writing this one a couple of times now, but it never seems to come out quite right - there were so many experiences over the years that I can’t quite put them all to justice, and trying to describe them all is like trying to make the perfect smoothie (it either comes out too thin or too thick, and sometimes with much more sugar than it probably should have). I think, ultimately, I neither have the skill nor the patience to dialogue a complete account of my experiences in the cornfields, so I won’t. Instead, I think it would be a more fruitful exercise to write down the lessons I learned there. That way, even when I’m old and senile, I’ll at least still be able to go over the important bits.

Faith

If there’s anything that I can say I’ve taken away from my time at UIUC, it’s this. Covenant Fellowship Church (hereby CFC) was a whirling dervish of passion for God that would be hard to replicate anywhere else. The love I received from my brothers and sisters there was far more than anything a socially awkward teen from a small town in New Jersey deserved. And yet there it was, and there I was, right in the middle of a growing experience in knowing Christ. I felt wanted -  and more importantly - loved.

When I was feeling like a loser for eating dinner alone, some CFCers would magically pop up at my table or invite me over to theirs (of course, this could get annoying when I actually DID want to be alone, but that seems like the social equivalent of a third world problem). When exam seasons would come, they would be right by my side studying with me. When I needed friends to keep me company and away from the parties, there they were (this isn’t to say that I never went out, but oh well. At least not too many CFCers knew me before Sophomore year, when I stopped going out altogether).

So you see, my time with CFC was far more than anything I could have imagined or hoped for. And that’s good and all, but not really why I stuck around - if all I wanted was friends, I could have just joined a frat like most people do. What really stuck out to me was the passion these people had. Here we were, in the middle of the cornfields and miles away from any parents, and yet these people chose to follow God instead of their worldly desires. That, to me, was inspirational and worthy of my full attention. Before coming here, I had never seen people crying out to God - and I mean really  just letting it all out. I’m talking hands to the sky, knees on the ground, and all that. It scared me at first (hearing people talking in tongues genuinely made me believe I was about to be sacrificed), but I’m glad I saw it through.

I never imagined CFC would play such an integral role in my college experience. After all, my church here in New Jersey is pretty small and my faith had stagnated long before I set foot on campus. Most of the more devoted members had already left for greener pastures (other churches), but being the stubborn person I am, I stayed. Over time, the lifeless sermons and the general lack of energy really sapped my passion and willingness to even go to church. The kid that used to nag his father on Sunday mornings until he got out of bed and drove him to church turned into the teenager that would skip out whenever he didn’t feel like getting up. I was still determined to find a church once I got to campus (a promise with my grandpa that I intended to keep), but I wasn’t sure how much time I was going to sink into it. Back then, my ideal college life was only doing the bare minimum of showing up to Sunday service and spending the rest of my days partying and chasing girls. But, as I now know, that was not what God had in store for me (speaking of, I had no idea why God was sending me out to Illinois at the time. I had Ivy league dreams and money making schemes, but God smacked those all down to send me to the Midwest. At the time, I was really confused, but it worked out quite well in the end). In time, I would even grow to give back to CFC through helping out in various ministries and events. I even took the leadership course that CFC offered, believing I would eventually get the opportunity to guide some freshman of my own (that didn’t happen, of course, and I ended up packing my bags to go back home, but oh well). 

So yeah, that’s the abbreviated (or as abbreviated as I could make it) account of how my faith grew at UIUC. If nothing else, I want to be able to internalize these lessons to make a permanent change in my life. I want to be a better Christian, even now that I’m not a part of CFC. Hopefully, I can impact some lives along my journey.

(As an aside, this took way longer to write than I anticipated, so I guess I’ll just continue writing about my experiences some other time.)

[elliotsramblings]

18

Wait, these are so ... fleshy

Elliot, you idiot

They’re lips, of course they’re fleshy.

Well, I’ve done it

...

...

This is kinda nice

...

Well, now what do I do?

When do we stop?

I guess I’ll let her decide.

Shoot, I have to breathe.

Well, let’s hold it in

Maybe we’ll stop soon

...

Shoot

Alright, I guess

I’ll just breathe on her?

Hope she won’t mind

...

When do we stop?

Can I look at her?

I’m going to look at her.

Oh God, her eyes are closed

Abort.

Abort.

...

...

She’s pulling back

Finally

I’ve done it!

Phew

...

I still haven’t figured out

How to breathe during a kiss

[elliotsramblings]

Sometimes

Man, sometimes I wish I was as motivated as much as other people. And I’m not necessarily talking about just studying either; I’m talking about the people that get all that they can from life. The wanderers who travel every chance they can get, just waiting to break free from the bird’s nest known as their hometown. The book smart people that study all night, exploring the vast fields and hidden crevices of academia that others would shy away from. The path finders who risk it all for a chance at success where others see failure. The social butterflies that so effortlessly lift others’ spirits up with a simple “Hello” or a  “What’s up?” The athletes who physically push themselves to the brink, then do it again the next day, and the next, ad infinitum. Meanwhile, I’m just sitting at my desk, having nothing to do because I chose to have an easy schedule and my Finals schedule was lighter than it could have been. Is there some magic fountain of life that reveals to people their purpose in life and fills them with motivation? Did I miss the high school field trip that everyone else seems to have taken? These are supposed to be some of the best years of my life, but honestly I’m just confused as shit. Who am I? What am I meant to do in life? Am I meant for the U of I? Will I ever live up to my own expectations? And all of these questions would go away if I would just go all in for once and choose what I want to do in life...but what if I choose wrong? What if I really don’t know what my heart desires? What if I fuck up and never live up to my full potential? What if I never get a job, never find success, never find love, never have kids? What if I become a failure at life? Sometimes, I just wish I had a clue on what I should do in life. I just want some sense of direction, man.

[elliotsramblings]

Growing up

It was November 5th, 2014. Tree leaves blanketed lawns and sidewalks everywhere, their warm, red-brown hue belying the cold of the crisp Fall wind as the sound of children yelling and leaves crunching and crackling filled the still air with every footstep. But for all of its beauty, it was, by all accounts, an ordinary day for most people. But not for me, and certainly not for my brother: he was another year older that day. I, of course, smiled and congratulated my brother on making it through yet another year. But underneath those smiles and that laughter was sadness. I resented the fact that my brother was another year older. I resented the fact that my brother was edging closer to greater struggles and more horrific pains than I would ever be able to protect him against. I resented the fact that what lied ahead of my brother was frustration, sadness, grief, and death. And most importantly of all, I resented the fact that he was no longer that little child that would always need his big brother by his side. He had long outgrown the time when I could gently cradle him in my arms, feeling the faint, quick heartbeat that lay in that tiny body of his. Deep, deep down inside my conscience, I knew that I had no reason to be resentful. Struggle and grief are necessary for every human; it is that duality between the darkest depths of struggle and the highest, golden peaks of triumph that shape and carve us into who we are. Without the heat and pressure, a coal can never turn into a diamond: it simply remains a piece of coal forever. And like pieces of coal, a human can never experience the fullness of life without the temptations and darkness of sin. They remain infants forever, unfascinating and useless to the society. It is only that potential for growth that makes little children so valuable to the world. And yet, I wanted to strip my brother of the entirety of his value. And for what? The ability to protect him forever? To cherish him as if he was an antique prize with no intellectual prowess or autonomy? It made me sick just thinking about it. My brother has every right to experience the fullness of life with or without me, and I have absolutely no right to deny him that.

But giving up is never that easy. Some people go their entire lives holding on to one person or one moment, unable to let go and unable to move on. It’s incredibly scary thinking about the power emotions hold over us. For all of our insistence that we are intelligent creatures, it is incredibly ironic and a tad bit hilarious that the most powerful aspects of humans are emotions that can not and will not be defined by logic. Love, hatred, sadness, envy, pride, and countless other emotions are an impossible frontier for humans. And yet, here I am, sitting in front of my laptop futilely trying to comprehend and define why I’m sad and frustrated in the face of logic. Logic dictates that I should be happy my brother has many more years to come to explore his life. Logic dictates that I should be happy my brother has unimaginable joys ahead of him. Logic dictates that he is his own person, and not a pet for me to protect until the end of time. And yet, emotions invalidate all of that and tear it all down.

Maybe the conclusion to this long winded rant of mine is that there is no conclusion. I may not like it, and I may not ever come to terms with it, but emotions are not something that I could ever hope to understand: I’m not God and there is very little point in trying to be him. My brother will grow up, whether I like it or not. He’ll find heartbreak. He’ll find love. He’ll find failure. He’ll find success. He’ll have children of his own, and maybe one day will have these very thoughts that are on my mind right now. But one thing that he’ll never be is that doe-eyed infant that held onto my finger with his own tiny, trembling hands. So every time November 5th rolls around, I’ll put on a smile and laugh merrily with my brother, because that’s all I can do. Happy Birthday, Edward. Here’s to another year. 

[elliotsramblings]

Stereotypes

It’s hard not to be judgmental. We’re judged constantly, from the moment we’re born to the moment we die, so it would only seem natural for us to judge others. But is it really OK for us to view others under such a harsh lens? Sure, there are some people that are nice no matter how harshly their actions are scrutinized over. But more often than not, judging people tends to lead to faulty assumptions and negative thoughts about others. Worst of all, as we critic other people’s actions and form opinions about them, we begin to categorize people into rigid stereotypes.

Every person is unique, but like trying to fit a circle into a square hole we feel compelled to shove people into character archetypes that are sensible and comforting to us. The President of the Anime club will always be that unpopular, unsociable shut-in, the Captain of the football team will always be incredibly handsome and the life of the party, and the stoners will always be lazy good-for-nothing Rastafarians. These stereotypes comfort us, because it gives us the false assumption that we know everything about everyone. And so we become uncomfortable and irritated when these stereotypes are proven wrong, and people defy our expectations. It’s not possible for that heroin addict to turn his life around: he’s a lost cause and nothing will save him. It doesn’t make sense that the quiet bookworm would transform into a confident, vocal leader. No amount of studying or luck could turn that “dumbass” into a certifiable success and Noble prize laureate. We’re scared of the fact that we might not know everyone as well as we think we do, and so we run away from the truth. We consume the media that supports and perpetuates the stereotypes we’ve grown accustomed to, and reject the ones that don’t. It’s downright terrifying how quickly we can meet fellow humans and within moments chain them down with all of our expectations for them. We’ve mapped out their lives for them before they’ve even had the chance to live it out themselves, as if we are almighty, divine beings capable of judgement. 

Am I calling for all humans to stop judging each other? Certainly not. Not only would that be an impossible task to reach for, but it would also be hypocritical of me to sit on my throne and call out others for their actions when I’m guilty of all the same crimes. This isn’t a call to arms and this isn’t a condemnation of all of mankind. This is merely an observation: no more, no less. Take from it what you will.

[elliotsramblings]

Loneliness

All my life, I’ve been telling myself that its OK to be antisocial.

“It’s just who I am”

“I’m an introvert”

“I need time to recharge”

“It’s too much work for me to change”

“I don’t need other people to be happy”

“I’m not good at talking to people, so why bother?”

“Most of these relationships won’t last anyways”

The worst mental block, however, is one that I can’t even fit into one sentence. I have absolutely no confidence in myself. I’m awkward, unsociable, boring, lazy, unfunny, and reclusive. Or, at least, that’s how I perceive myself to be. And this lack of confidence in myself is a large part of why I don’t even bother to put myself out there most times. I can’t improve myself unless I meet people, but I won’t meet people until I’ve improved my social skills. It’s a vicious cycle, isn’t it? Up until coming to college, I’ve always accepted the fact that I’m a wallflower and probably won’t ever be much more than that. But coming into my sophomore year and seeing how increasingly necessary its becoming for me to gain social skills, I’m not sure that I can just stay the same way I’ve always been. Seeing my peers put themselves out there for internships, research projects, and other ventures really, truly makes me envious of their social skills. Talking just seems so natural to them, as if they all went through a communications class a couple years back that I somehow missed. I’m constantly comparing myself to them, and that just further discourages me from even trying. It’s a bad habit, I know, but it’s one that I’ve had all my life. Not exactly the easiest mentality to break out of. I like to think that I give off the vibe that I know what I’m doing with my life, but behind closed doors, I’m just a mess. I keep telling myself that I’ll get better at it “next year”, that it’s not my social skills that are holding me back, but the situation that I’ve been put in that’s preventing me from meeting people. I hate that mentality. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. And yet, I’ve been stuck in that same rut for years. And so, I’m at a crossroads in my life. The same crossroad that I’ve been faced with at almost every turn in my life, but this time I don’t think I’m going to be able to run away from it. And what scares me the most is not knowing which path I’ll go down. The world is a lonely, lonely place, but that’s only because I’ve chosen to make it so. 

[elliotsramblings]

Aaaaaaaa I feel so bad for neglecting this blog :/ there are so many post ideas bouncing around in my head, but I can't write them up until after midterms. Soon tm

[elliotsramblings]

I love how my students get up and run whenever their parents show up. Maybe I’m pushing them too hard, but I relish in their agony. MWAHAHAHAHA

[elliotsramblings]

Went to see the new dragon ball z movie with some friends today. Most enjoyable movie experience I’ve had in a looooong time. I love the fact that no matter how much I’m forced to grow up and shoulder responsibilities, I’m still a child at heart. Some things never change :)

[elliotsramblings]

I wish I had that keenness to perfect. Everyone else seems to have it, and I’m just sitting here wasting my hours away, because i’m so afraid of the possibility of taking that first step forward only to find that my effort was in vain. I want to succeed and I want to work hard, but it seems like my whole life was been overshadowed by my fear of the unknown. How do you even overcome something that’s not tangible?