You know, things like what I’m about to write happens to me from time to time. I just finished accidentally (or unintentionally) watching like two hours of videos of Regina Spektor being a beautiful genius.
Not even her music! I mean to say that I watched just videos of her in concert, having little mishaps and things, being in fan videos of her after shows, and a whole lot of interviews, just to see her being herself. There was this one video of her discussing democracy and answering really stupid type questions in an intelligent, well-spoken, cute manner. It was just her speaking off the top of her head for like 10 minutes, and just that was one of the most captivating, endearing, almost spell-binding things I have seen in months somehow. Now because of it, Regina Spektor has gotten all in my head with her sweet, mousy little smile and her messy hair and those sundresses, and I can’t shake her away. For like hours now, I’m being followed by this Regina Spektor spirit (in the best way possible), and when I am closing my eyes, I am seeing that smile of hers and hearing her music. Regina Spektor, presently, is very much stuck with me. I’m not complaining or anything, but when something like this happens, my brain gets all in a tizzy and I get all sort of thoughts I need to think, and the only way to get some clarity is to take a walk to an empty picnic table or the dock or a pond and throw them all on paper. I do this quite often, it just doesn’t usually end up anywhere, because I can imagine that the little audience that sometimes reads the things on my website and sometimes doesn’t won’t want to hear the emotional rattlings of this lanky clown they have gotten to know as Reuben Glaser. Sometimes it seeps out, and anybody who reads this thing ought to know by now that this blog is much less “kool upd8′,s” “tipz n’ trix,” and promotion as it is some form of a diary for me. So, knowing that, you can either sit with it or head on out, because things are going to get all psyche up in here.
The reason Regina Spektor has invaded my mind is much more than her cute, gentle, genuine sweetness, that little accent she has, her unexpectedly big and terrific breasts that I had never acknowledged until today, her delightful quirkiness, the fact I have been just a fan of her music since she quite literally left me breathless on Conan that one time, or her lovely mind, it’s actually because she gives me a very familiar feeling I get from time to time I have found out today, more often than I probably should. When I was watching her talk and be Regina Spektor, I had that tinge of “pre-love” hit me something fierce, and “pre-love” is something I like to say that means I am very confident that if I ever met her, I’d fall quickly into actual love with her. Even if there is a 13 year difference in our age, thousands of miles between us, just as many people who have the hots for her like I suddenly do, fame, that she will never see my face or know my name or anything about me, and the fact she probably already has a significant other as I wrote this, I still got the tinge. I get it a lot for many girls I have found. But don’t get me wrong, I’m only 17, I don’t pretend to know a lick about love, nor should I probably even. I’m trying to figure this all out right now. Truth be told, I have only had one girlfriend in my life, and she was pretty batshit insane to me after a very small while while and left me pretty broken and lost for the large part of last winter. To her credit (and to be fair, there is a bit to her credit, she is a very nice, smart girl, just unstable, reckless and not right for me) she was really the final push I needed to get myself some sertraline in my life, and I don’t regret that part even a little.
This January, February, March, April and May I was as cold as the weather, an iceman who wouldn’t let anybody in to the point of everybody giving up on trying. I was so lost in so many ways, I was so alone, and that’s when I quit YouTube, which didn’t help in the least at the time. Now, I’m on Zoloft, and I see the sun again. I am me again, I’m back on track, I’m warm again, I have my personality back, and I’m finally doing some of the most exciting things in my life that I never had the confidence to do…for example, writing, directing, producing, editing and starring in a whole movie all by myself that is going to have a PREMIERE SCREENING in Milwaukee at the end of the month…but that’s for another post. Still, on some primal, mental, innermost level, I constantly have that feeling that something very, very important is missing…and that would be the special lady I don’t have in my life. And it’s starting to begin to hurt now. To be blunt, I have such a lonesome, longing heart, and even at only 17, I can feel that the love in my life is missing. My Mom always likes to tell me that until I was born, she felt something in her heart was missing, but when I came into existence, it went away. Now, that’s obviously a very different breed of love, a maternal love that can’t even be equated to other loves, but still, lately I have been able to understand more than ever what she means like that. I have many of these empty rooms in my heart, and I am just hoping so badly that as I get older, I can fill them up and remove the vacancy sign. I’m sure the tugs of wanting children is in me somewhere, but that will unleash itself in many years, in no less than at least one decade from now…but for right now, I feel that desire for companionship stronger than ever. It’s a void. I hate being alone, and it’s just a challenge not having somebody to pass the time with most days.
Frankly, I probably rely TOO heavily on companionship, but as it stands, I am quite the solitary man, and it doesn’t suit me. The problems with that lie within, however, and it’s become pretty clear why. It’s nice to be the funny guy, but as has happened with me and probably others in my same boat, I’ve wound up being ONLY the funny guy. It would seem that my claim to fame around here is my YouTube channel and my appearances on the High-School News Program. I’m the comedy film guy. And, I won’t be humble in saying that every time I appear on there, it’s met with pretty much rave reviews locally (not that the bar is set very high…it’s practically on the floor and I’m just stepping over it), and to this day I receive compliments often about it almost weekly. It’s generally the first things strangers will go to, and it’s always an ego-boost…but the downfall is that I am a fictional TV Show character to these people. It’s really gotten to that point. Sure, people love to watch me gallivant around and be the buffoon version of me, but the concept that I am an actual real person doesn’t seem to even begin to register with people. It’s as if I am regarded as maybe a “Shawn Spencer” from Psych type of guy, or Peter Venkman, where people think I have everything figured out and don’t need other things to occupy myself with because my Valentine was a super-model and I tend to put on a happy-go-lucky, go-with-the-flow, wacky, zany demeanor. Maybe it’s genuine, or maybe they won’t let it or don’t let it register because it’s disappointing or vexing, but I am an actual person with actual emotions who is very capable of ticking. Yes, above all, I love to be the funny guy and make people laugh, but the truth is that it’s basically my fine-tuned way of coping with insecurities, which in a weird cycling way only contributes to the TV show character plight.
What I am getting at is that I’m okay with it largely, but I am literally desperate to find the lady who will acknowledge I am a real person someday, and I will love that girl like nothing else that has ever existed. Now, this is where “pre-love” ties in. I will say I am a firm believer that everybody has a larger handful of “true loves.” It’s not only a “one person for each person and it’s your game to find them” type of deal. That’s a pile of hooligan shenanigans. There are a lot of people somewhere for each one person to love, absolutely. Still with 6,000,000,000 people on the Earth, even finding that handful of people is a very hard task, and with all people, those who you could love are few and far in between. But, they are out there, and with the inclusion of the Internet, finding those theoretical suspected loves is boundlessly easier. But ever meeting them or getting their attention is not. To digress, I pretty strongly believe that Regina Spektor will never know who I am, and I’m no one to try and change that. Still, I think I could LOVE Regina Spektor if circumstances helped me out the whole way. I could LOVE Hayley Williams, Kat Dennings, Mindy White, and I could love some people I’ve had the good fortune of meeting online; the special ladies in New York, Scotland, and mostly England. I think I COULD have the potential to fall in love with them and marry them and live happily ever after. I get that inkling. It probably has never ever been mutual, nor will it probably ever be, and I’ll never get a chance to even try to prove it, however. But, I still get the inkling that I COULD. All I’m holding out for is the opportunity to meet a few from my love handful and give it a spin someday. I want to marry one of these girls one day and wake up every day happy to see them, and look forward to seeing them every day when I don’t seem them, who I will never tire of kissing or talking to. I’d rather die alone than join the legions of the unhappily married, because that is one of the most depressing things humanity has thrust upon us.
I believe somewhere that an ideal lady exists. Maybe I won’t find her in a Milwaukee coffee shop which sounds like my best bet, but I’m determined to try to find her somewhere. Maybe they are in Europe. I have no idea. It’s just terrifying that 6 billion people are alive, and I’ll never get to meet almost all of them. I’m just hoping that when I grow up just a few years and am living the real life, that I’m lucky enough to meet her. Maybe she’ll be 13 years older than me and Russian, maybe she is a London supermodel, maybe she’s nothing I’ve ever thought of. How the heck am I supposed to know? I’m just a young adult, goddammit. I have no idea what’s coming off.
What? Are you still here? Well, enough of this brooding bullshit. I just realized I forgot to take my Zoloft this morning. That ought to explain this introspective hackwork. Get outta here!
loved this.