but the inspiration is free

So after a month and a half of living back home, it’s a relief to be back in Taiwan.  I didn’t think I’d miss this little island as much as I did while I was away. But then again I hadn’t thought of how much I missed the US until I saw (most of) my friends. For me, there was an element of poignancy in each reunion, particularly when I met a friend’s significant other whom I hadn’t known before, or when my old college buddies are preparing to finish their graduate school education, or after two years at a respectable job, are preparing to enter one. It’s made me reflective of my time here; I haven’t worked enough; I haven’t learned enough. But I’ve grown in ways I don’t know would be possible if I had remained at home. Robert Frost said the road less traveled makes all the difference, but I’m told the harder path builds character, and all I can think about is the destination. Even then I don’t know where I want to be but I know what I want it to feel like.

Anyway, it certainly is a long road home.  Going home to New York was a wonderful experience but a bit too syrupy with the bittersweets. It was great to see my sisters and parents, and I got to see most of my college friends (although a few were conspicuously too far south to visit), which itself made the trip worthwhile. But for all the warm welcomes I received I was limited by my lack of funds. Traveling to other cities is great, and I look forward to doing it more often when I finally return to the US for good, but I feel parasitic living on other people’s kindnesses (and couches).

Now, I expected to be without employment at home considering I was there for only 45 days, give or take. And I expected to live at home, too. But it doesn’t bode well for my eventual return home, which will inevitably weigh heavily on my already-stricken pockets, when I need to take time to find a job and then save enough to move into a place of my own, or continue staying at home while I wait to see which schools accept me, all the while collecting pimples when I sleep on the same couch my dog rubs her ass on. It will be like living at home after college except I’m two years older without much more significant work experience. And everybody else has continued to move on.

That last sentence encapsulates a great deal of what I’m feeling right now, especially regarding my ex. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to call her that since we weren’t really ‘officially’ dating each other. But I miss her terribly and I’m never able to communicate it to her properly when I finally get to see her. I get stuck on my words and act awkward around her and utterly fail to show her how much she means to me. Then when she reminds me why we stopped seeing each other, which was utterly my fault, I dig in my heels and drive her farther away. I wish she’d give me another chance, but three quarters of the time I’m acting too damn cool and the rest I’m either a regurgitating sink of self-pity or an obstinate, short-sighted indignation-junkie who can’t let go of his opinions or his embarrassing past. I want to tell her I love her but I don’t know if I even mean it; if I do, it might still just be too little, too late; there’s so much water under the bridge that she might as well cross elsewhere. All I know is it feels good to say it aloud… by myself.

So you missed your shot, kid, so what? There’ll be other matches, and other points to score. No need to lose it over this one.

It’s my difficulty letting go of things. I’ve been that way since childhood and it’s been a boon as much a burden. I can’t forget slights against my person. I’m prone to excessively dwell over insinuated insults and injustices. I can overreact at other people’s selfishness or ignorance. And I always reserve my harshest criticism and most cutting disparagement for myself. At times when I’m alone at night or stoned I’ll recall humiliating instances of my life and I’ll bite on my knuckles and cringe. This has inadvertently caused me a great deal of trouble.

But I’ll also never forget a kindness. I won’t fail to offer support to my friends in the best ways I can, and I’ll speak out for them unrelentingly if I feel they’re being unfairly targeted or shortchanged – particularly when they’re not around. This is partly because I’m a narcissist who basks in the attention of others and I love to have the limelight when I’m defending my friends, even if it makes me unpopular. I won’t back down, I’ve got an eye for detail, an impeccable memory, and far too many words for my own good. This has also caused me a great deal of trouble.

Those previous two paragraphs, if one were to know all the details, are the best explanation I can offer for my mindset while I was in the process of unintentionally destroying my relationship with my ex. Everybody has their own problems but the circumstances I was in were unfamiliar to me, and I was being pulled in just so many directions at once. So I don’t know the extent of my care for her, or that given my current intensity of emotion for her, if I just can’t accept letting her fade away to a milestone in my continually ignominious history. Quentin Compson, eat your heart out.

The state of my failed relationship with Tennis Star, as I previously referred to her in this blog, has brought my reflection to the failed relationship between my parents (the disclosure of which was one of the distressing influences on my mental stability while I was with Tennis). What I found striking was upon my return home I didn’t immediately detect any significant differences in their living condition.

I suppose they talked slightly less with each other. When we all ate together, which was infrequent, the extent of most dialogue between the two was my father’s loud chewing. Frequently I’d carry on two separate conversations at the same time. They might have had only three non-combative conversations while I was at home. Frequently I found myself fending off accusations from my mother that I was spending an inordinate amount of time with my father, because he works from home and we both attended the same exercise club at similar times. My father who wronged her offered no such complaints although my mother’s were understandable and justified. Then again I’ve also begun to see my father in a new light. I recall him telling me that most of their friends in Rockville Centre were as a couple (as a couple my mother was the much more social one) and that most of his personal acquaintances were the ones he’d made in Brazil. I offer no judgments but after two decades of his living in that town I’ve got to wonder why.

Like I said I’ve got too many words for my own good. I began this entry but it’s been a couple of hours and I don’t know if I can finish it. How telling. I’ll wrap this up in one two paragraphs shortly .

So after a month and a half of living at home, it’s a relief to be back in Taiwan. I didn’t think I’d miss this island as much as I did while I was away, but it seems I may not be able to remain here long. While I was at home I postponed my flight because I wanted to apply for a visitor’s visa, which would permit me 60 days in Taiwan and which is extendable, as opposed to a landing visa, which is for a non-extendable 30 days. For Americans and some other Westerners, a landing visa is procured simply by entering the country. I need a visitor’s visa to get a working visa, which would grant me a year to stay in the country.

It was implied to me by the New York City TECO office that they would assist me in the procurement of said visa, because after the first two times I showed up they offered recommendations on how to refine my application. Finally on the third time, the only worker at the window was the smirking, self-important bureaucrat who’d offered only skepticism and snide comments during my previous visits. As distasteful as it was being friendly to him, I did my best and he assured me he was working for my benefit. Like the proper fool I am, I believed him, and happily offered my application fee of $131 USD only to return two days later to discover that I’d been denied on his recommendation, and of course, that there were no refunds. Big surprise, eh?

It set a negative tone to my return, and I’ve given myself a two month time limit. I’ll fly out of the country to return on a landing visa once, and in those two months I must find a job to provide me a working permit. A further complication is the Chinese New Year, which began a few days ago and during which most federal buildings are closed, and all the schools are. Getting what I want isn’t going to be easy. I think I’m a talented guy, and a hard worker, but my prospects are looking grim. I’m trying to stay optimistic. But even my optimism feels thin and worn when the path less traveled ahead looks so daunting, and the road back home so cold.