freakyfudge
If you tilt your head a little...
..it goes on forever.
Triple 8s! Sweet! 900 karma, here I come!
Triple 8s! Sweet! 900 karma, here I come!
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Enough
When I came out here, I totally thought I would have something to say, so let's see what spills out of my noodle this time.
Watched SUNSET BOULEVARD in class tonight. That movie reminds me of a lot of the things in my life that were not going the way they should have a few months back. By the end, I think the main thing it reminds me is that life is what you make it. For Norma Desmond, it revolved around her and the talent she was kind enough to have shared with the world decades earlier. For Joe Gillis, life was based on what material wealth he could gain. For Max, it was about shaping the reality of Norma so that she could not see the web of lies that had become her cradle.
So life is relative in many ways.
I used to think I was doing alright, smoking pot every day, feeding my loved ones lies, denying the value of the gifts I'd been given; specifically, the gift of life, moderate intelligence, and family and friends that love me.
I still think I'm doing alright, but a lot has changed this year. I don't blaze it anymore, in fact I don't smoke anything every day. I go to school and my lying, well, I don't lie nearly as much as I once did.
In thinking about the first time I saw SUNSET BOULEVARD and who I saw it with, I relate most to the character of Joe. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he first met the mysterious and eccentric Norma Desmond, but he thought he could help and more importantly, he saw an opportunity for personal gain. I got out of that situation, not the way Joe did, but I found a way. And sometimes I wonder if it's that part of my nature that wants to help people who are steeped in the world of lies they've constructed for themselves that brings me back to my less attractive habits.
I want, first and foremost, to help people in need, to maybe right some wrongs that have been done to those who are hurting. That usually comes from the part of my nature that lets me see myself in others, that feeling that if I were in need, I'd want someone like me to help. But in addition to failing those I try to help, I also end up feeling like I've failed others I could be helping. Something in me keeps finding new walls to bash my head against instead of finding the tools within myself that would be more accustomed for the task.
I want to save the world. I want to help the helpless. What I fail to realize is that I am in many ways no better off than those I wish to help.
I'd hate for this to turn into yet another rant about how I have it so hard and I just can't seem to find my way, even though I seem to be so good at those. Instead, I'll riff a bit on how I hate humanity and wish it didn't have to hurt my friends and family all the time.
Someone a bit wiser than me once said that our flaws are what make us human. It's also our flaws that make life so goddamn awful most of the time. I like to try and make the flaws I see into beauty. I like to believe that a negative can be turned into a positive. I do believe things happen for a reason, but more importantly, I believe that reason must determined by those who bad things happen to.
"Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something."
The world was not necessarily meant to be a pleasant place. Over the last couple thousand years, a few humans have tried their damnedest to make the world livable. Yet it feels like still more humans have made the world lousy, not just for themselves, but for those around them. Until recently, I probably would have counted myself among this latter group of bastards. Not that my nature has drastically changed, I've always wanted to be a help and not a hindrance, but I haven't always tried that hard. I'm trying now. I try every day as often as possible to do right by those I care for, and that wall continues to bruise my already soft head.
(Where was I going with this? Oh yes, HATE.)
I am pretty alright with flaws, I think without them the world would be dull and lifeless. It's when flaws get the better of people and end up causing pain that I have a problem. I hate that. I hate that so many people have to hurt so much just to be allowed this gift we call life. Sometimes I wish I didn't care so much, but like Feist said, "I feel it all". I can't help feeling it all. I see my brothers and sisters in anguish and I feel it in me. And I can't stop it, not all of it anyway.
So I suppose I should pick my battles, find the walls my head is capable of breaking, and be content. I shouldn't stop caring, but simply care less. I have managed this in some respects. There are aspects of living that I used to stress over like a crazy person that I have now learned to simply let be. These things are few and I am still learning to fight them. This is what I feel I was placed on this murky mudball for: to fight the pain.
I'm generally a fan of people. Ask anyone I know, they'll tell you I'm all kinds of friendly. I see most everyone as a potential friend. It's my nature to trust and to bring as much happiness I can into the lives of those around me. Being pleasant is not enough. Sitting here, typing alone in the dark with streams of smoke blowing past my face is not enough. It's not enough to hope that something I write here will ring true for someone who reads it and help them to realize this life is shit, but it's the only one we've got and that's something. Or maybe, that's the point.
In my contemplations about religion and humanity and the nature of good and evil, I've determined I believe that humans are selfish creatures. If there is one "sin" that is unavoidable, it is Selfishness. Self-preservation, ego-centrism, greed, all are fueled by selfish desire. This characteristic of humans stems from this belief, this unavoidable paradox, that nothing is ever enough. There is no contentment to be had because all we want is more.
With this in mind, satisfaction becomes less a sensation or a destination, and becomes a goal, a concept that is never truly realized. So where does that leave us?
It left Norma Desmond in police custody, probably on her way to a padded cell. It left Joe Gillis face down in the pool riddled with holes. It leaves us at the beginning of a neverending story. It leaves us at the first day of the rest of our lives. It leaves us with a ticket to the future that is always blank.
There is no happy ending. There is no point at which we sigh that blessed sigh, smile, and feel utter content. Nothing will ever be enough; unless we make it so.
If life is what you make it, it's up to us to make it the way we like it; we're the only ones who can, after all. I hate to spout this one off, but after all the cliches I've regurgitated I'll say it anyway: If you can't change something, change the way you think about it. Perspective comes first, and everything else follows. If you don't have that something that gets you through the day right now, you're either looking in the wrong place or need something else. There are lots of things about my life that I wish I could go back and change, but I can't. I have to make due with what I've been given. It doesn't always feel like enough, and it never will really, but it's something. It's that jump from "something" to "enough" that holds us back from our joy.
I think I've beat this one into the ground enough and I'm rapidly losing ideas of what to write next, so I'll leave you with a few lines from what's probably my favorite song of all time:
"Life's a song you don't get to rehearse
And every single verse
Can make it that much worse.
It's alright if some things come out wrong
We'll sing a happy song
And you can sing along."
I covered a lot right now, and I'll be impressed and deeply flattered if anyone ever reads it all. I hope some of it made sense. I hope some of it helped. It's all I ever hope for, really.
Life is what you make it, nothing more, nothing less. It's never enough, but it's something, and that something is the most precious thing you'll ever own. So fucking own it.
Watched SUNSET BOULEVARD in class tonight. That movie reminds me of a lot of the things in my life that were not going the way they should have a few months back. By the end, I think the main thing it reminds me is that life is what you make it. For Norma Desmond, it revolved around her and the talent she was kind enough to have shared with the world decades earlier. For Joe Gillis, life was based on what material wealth he could gain. For Max, it was about shaping the reality of Norma so that she could not see the web of lies that had become her cradle.
So life is relative in many ways.
I used to think I was doing alright, smoking pot every day, feeding my loved ones lies, denying the value of the gifts I'd been given; specifically, the gift of life, moderate intelligence, and family and friends that love me.
I still think I'm doing alright, but a lot has changed this year. I don't blaze it anymore, in fact I don't smoke anything every day. I go to school and my lying, well, I don't lie nearly as much as I once did.
In thinking about the first time I saw SUNSET BOULEVARD and who I saw it with, I relate most to the character of Joe. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he first met the mysterious and eccentric Norma Desmond, but he thought he could help and more importantly, he saw an opportunity for personal gain. I got out of that situation, not the way Joe did, but I found a way. And sometimes I wonder if it's that part of my nature that wants to help people who are steeped in the world of lies they've constructed for themselves that brings me back to my less attractive habits.
I want, first and foremost, to help people in need, to maybe right some wrongs that have been done to those who are hurting. That usually comes from the part of my nature that lets me see myself in others, that feeling that if I were in need, I'd want someone like me to help. But in addition to failing those I try to help, I also end up feeling like I've failed others I could be helping. Something in me keeps finding new walls to bash my head against instead of finding the tools within myself that would be more accustomed for the task.
I want to save the world. I want to help the helpless. What I fail to realize is that I am in many ways no better off than those I wish to help.
I'd hate for this to turn into yet another rant about how I have it so hard and I just can't seem to find my way, even though I seem to be so good at those. Instead, I'll riff a bit on how I hate humanity and wish it didn't have to hurt my friends and family all the time.
Someone a bit wiser than me once said that our flaws are what make us human. It's also our flaws that make life so goddamn awful most of the time. I like to try and make the flaws I see into beauty. I like to believe that a negative can be turned into a positive. I do believe things happen for a reason, but more importantly, I believe that reason must determined by those who bad things happen to.
"Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something."
The world was not necessarily meant to be a pleasant place. Over the last couple thousand years, a few humans have tried their damnedest to make the world livable. Yet it feels like still more humans have made the world lousy, not just for themselves, but for those around them. Until recently, I probably would have counted myself among this latter group of bastards. Not that my nature has drastically changed, I've always wanted to be a help and not a hindrance, but I haven't always tried that hard. I'm trying now. I try every day as often as possible to do right by those I care for, and that wall continues to bruise my already soft head.
(Where was I going with this? Oh yes, HATE.)
I am pretty alright with flaws, I think without them the world would be dull and lifeless. It's when flaws get the better of people and end up causing pain that I have a problem. I hate that. I hate that so many people have to hurt so much just to be allowed this gift we call life. Sometimes I wish I didn't care so much, but like Feist said, "I feel it all". I can't help feeling it all. I see my brothers and sisters in anguish and I feel it in me. And I can't stop it, not all of it anyway.
So I suppose I should pick my battles, find the walls my head is capable of breaking, and be content. I shouldn't stop caring, but simply care less. I have managed this in some respects. There are aspects of living that I used to stress over like a crazy person that I have now learned to simply let be. These things are few and I am still learning to fight them. This is what I feel I was placed on this murky mudball for: to fight the pain.
I'm generally a fan of people. Ask anyone I know, they'll tell you I'm all kinds of friendly. I see most everyone as a potential friend. It's my nature to trust and to bring as much happiness I can into the lives of those around me. Being pleasant is not enough. Sitting here, typing alone in the dark with streams of smoke blowing past my face is not enough. It's not enough to hope that something I write here will ring true for someone who reads it and help them to realize this life is shit, but it's the only one we've got and that's something. Or maybe, that's the point.
In my contemplations about religion and humanity and the nature of good and evil, I've determined I believe that humans are selfish creatures. If there is one "sin" that is unavoidable, it is Selfishness. Self-preservation, ego-centrism, greed, all are fueled by selfish desire. This characteristic of humans stems from this belief, this unavoidable paradox, that nothing is ever enough. There is no contentment to be had because all we want is more.
With this in mind, satisfaction becomes less a sensation or a destination, and becomes a goal, a concept that is never truly realized. So where does that leave us?
It left Norma Desmond in police custody, probably on her way to a padded cell. It left Joe Gillis face down in the pool riddled with holes. It leaves us at the beginning of a neverending story. It leaves us at the first day of the rest of our lives. It leaves us with a ticket to the future that is always blank.
There is no happy ending. There is no point at which we sigh that blessed sigh, smile, and feel utter content. Nothing will ever be enough; unless we make it so.
If life is what you make it, it's up to us to make it the way we like it; we're the only ones who can, after all. I hate to spout this one off, but after all the cliches I've regurgitated I'll say it anyway: If you can't change something, change the way you think about it. Perspective comes first, and everything else follows. If you don't have that something that gets you through the day right now, you're either looking in the wrong place or need something else. There are lots of things about my life that I wish I could go back and change, but I can't. I have to make due with what I've been given. It doesn't always feel like enough, and it never will really, but it's something. It's that jump from "something" to "enough" that holds us back from our joy.
I think I've beat this one into the ground enough and I'm rapidly losing ideas of what to write next, so I'll leave you with a few lines from what's probably my favorite song of all time:
"Life's a song you don't get to rehearse
And every single verse
Can make it that much worse.
It's alright if some things come out wrong
We'll sing a happy song
And you can sing along."
I covered a lot right now, and I'll be impressed and deeply flattered if anyone ever reads it all. I hope some of it made sense. I hope some of it helped. It's all I ever hope for, really.
Life is what you make it, nothing more, nothing less. It's never enough, but it's something, and that something is the most precious thing you'll ever own. So fucking own it.
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Pierced Septem
7 days. I remember there was a show on UPN by that title. It was about a secret government project that could send a man back in time seven days. They would use this technology to prevent disasters all over the world. Fortunately, nothing ever happened to the underground base where the tech was kept during these adventures, but that's not important.
It seems like an interesting device, being able to affect the past, even if it's over a short range. What I wouldn't give to be able to communicate with myself 7 days in the past. Or 7 month, 7 years. I would love to be able to give any shred of wisdom I may have accumulated over the years and share it with the me of the past.
I could have told myself not to smoke my first cigarette. I could tell myself that every girl I had a crush on in high school was far more attainable than I ever would have guessed. I could tell myself that religions are just lies that people tell themselves to feel safe, secure, and special in a world that is neither safe, nor secure.
There are enough things in my past that I know I would change, that I realize my life couldn't possibly be improved by making those changes. Making my life unrecognizable solves nothing. Certainly, I would have more of what I think I want now, but who knows if that's what I really wanted at the time, or if it would still be what I wanted once I had it. It's just more of my nasty human greed gnawing on my psyche.
Though it's difficult at times (lots of times), I need to remember to focus on the numerous blessings I have and not worry so much about what I can't do, don't have, or can't change. Live in the now and like it. Because there's only one shot at this, and when it's gone, it's gone.
It seems like an interesting device, being able to affect the past, even if it's over a short range. What I wouldn't give to be able to communicate with myself 7 days in the past. Or 7 month, 7 years. I would love to be able to give any shred of wisdom I may have accumulated over the years and share it with the me of the past.
I could have told myself not to smoke my first cigarette. I could tell myself that every girl I had a crush on in high school was far more attainable than I ever would have guessed. I could tell myself that religions are just lies that people tell themselves to feel safe, secure, and special in a world that is neither safe, nor secure.
There are enough things in my past that I know I would change, that I realize my life couldn't possibly be improved by making those changes. Making my life unrecognizable solves nothing. Certainly, I would have more of what I think I want now, but who knows if that's what I really wanted at the time, or if it would still be what I wanted once I had it. It's just more of my nasty human greed gnawing on my psyche.
Though it's difficult at times (lots of times), I need to remember to focus on the numerous blessings I have and not worry so much about what I can't do, don't have, or can't change. Live in the now and like it. Because there's only one shot at this, and when it's gone, it's gone.
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Smoke Break
Today turning into tomorrow makes Monday officially the 9th day of my sobriety/smokelessness. I've had slight bouts the last week, but I've managed to stay strong thus far. The smoking aspect has been the hardest, as you may have guessed. I want to say it's getting easier, but probably not.
I can say, however, it feels great. Not that I live in this vastly different world where my lungs work, but I do feel better in a few ways. I think I like it. I just hope I can like enough to go the whole month this way.
It's not that hard day to day, it's more just certain moments when the idea crosses my mind and seems especially attractive. Those are the moments I try to breathe and refocus on whatever it was I was doing before that thought came to mind. It's easier than I thought. I wouldn't have guessed I could go this long without cracking. It's kind of nice.
Going smokeless isn't as awful as I'd expected. At this point, I look forward to having my precious tobacco back, but we'll see how I feel after another 3 weeks.
I can say, however, it feels great. Not that I live in this vastly different world where my lungs work, but I do feel better in a few ways. I think I like it. I just hope I can like enough to go the whole month this way.
It's not that hard day to day, it's more just certain moments when the idea crosses my mind and seems especially attractive. Those are the moments I try to breathe and refocus on whatever it was I was doing before that thought came to mind. It's easier than I thought. I wouldn't have guessed I could go this long without cracking. It's kind of nice.
Going smokeless isn't as awful as I'd expected. At this point, I look forward to having my precious tobacco back, but we'll see how I feel after another 3 weeks.
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Nic fit
Arrgh.
Trying not to smoke.
I somehow inadvertently managed to go the whole day without one and now I sit here with a whole day head start without even trying...and all I can think about is lighting up.
I even read a comic that was sort of a subliminal anti-tobacco story. Kinda. If you're me and you're fiending for nicotine.
I've been agonizing over it for probably 30 minutes.
Grrr.
Trying not to smoke.
I somehow inadvertently managed to go the whole day without one and now I sit here with a whole day head start without even trying...and all I can think about is lighting up.
I even read a comic that was sort of a subliminal anti-tobacco story. Kinda. If you're me and you're fiending for nicotine.
I've been agonizing over it for probably 30 minutes.
Grrr.
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Turtles and Trolls
If it weren't so ear-lai in teh mornin' I might be concerned about getting some rest like, when the sun's not up, but no. I have resigned myself to sleep in spite of the sun, as I most often do.
I was instructed to give a run-down of a 2 hour conversation I just had, but the forces that be saw fit to give me a fairly selective, if not faulty, memory. Thus, I find it fitting and reasonable that I write about what I meant to write about this weekend, which was the recent run of unexpected (and unjust) deaths that have affected my life the last week.
First there was George Carlin. I was never the biggest fan of his or a huge follower, but I believed in what he was doing and, as far as angry old men went, he was one of my favs.
Next, Dale H. Philpot, the well-loved pitching coach of Glendora Lassie League, had an accident at the Louie Pompei Sports Park and passed away on the way to the hospital on Thursday. I don't think I ever personally met him either, but actually seeing him just moments after it happened, the proximity was enough to get me thinking about life--the beginnings and the endings--and was sort of heavy.
Then came Friday: the double-deuce. It wasn't until Saturday that I heard about the incidents. At 4am, I get a tweet from Ben Templesmith reading: RIP Michael Turner. I leap out of bed to Google this information to be sure that it's not some horrible, tasteless joke. It was no joke. Needless to say, I was heartbroken and had to smoke another cigarette to calm my nerves as I texted the few friends I have who know who Michael Turner is. It weighed heavy on my whole day.
Then, before heading out for the evening, my mom stopped me at the car to let me know that our dog had died. Our dog hasn't lived with us for about 2 years, she's been living with my aunt at her house out in Claremont. I haven't seen her all that much lately, but I know the joy she brought to my aunt while she lived there, and I was if nothing else, I felt for her loss.
So, here I sit, 4.5 hours into the day after Hump Day, the day before Independence Day, having not smoked for 48 hours and I think to myself: Self, why are you still awake? Huh? No, that's not what I meant to--oh right, that was it--I didn't post that on here, but in my bulletins on Myspace, I copied something that Joss Whedon wrote some years ago for his show Angel. Uh, I'll put it here for reference:
KATE: I just couldn't... My whole life has been about being a cop. If I'm not part of the force it's like nothing I do means anything.
ANGEL: It doesn't.
KATE: Doesn't what?
ANGEL: Mean anything. In the greater scheme or the big picture, nothing we do matters. There's no grand plan, no big win.
KATE: You seem kind of chipper about that.
ANGEL: Well, I guess I kinda worked it out. If there is no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. 'cause that's all there is. What we do, now, today. - I fought for so long. For redemption, for a reward, finally just to beat the other guy, but... I never got it.
KATE: And now you do?
ANGEL: Not all of it. All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because I don't think people should suffer, as they do. Because, if there is no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world.
Each of the people (and dog) that passed away last week had a direct or indirect affect on my life. Each effect was unique and each varied in magnitude, but they all had an impact on me. And knowing that they are no longer around to perform their function makes me feel the void they've left. It makes me want to do more, reach out, stretch myself, and help people more than I do already. I'm not sure how I'm going to do that, or if I really can do that, but I guess I'm feeling more of the same thing I've been writing about on here: I need direction. I want a purpose for my life, and a reason to live. I don't know if any of the people who passed away last week realized what they meant to me, but I think they could take satisfaction in knowing that they each in their own way inspired me, and have pushed me in a positive direction.
Another positive direction I would like to be pushed in is the direction of my pillow. So with that, Internetz, I bid thee good morrow.
I am not what I appear to be.
I was instructed to give a run-down of a 2 hour conversation I just had, but the forces that be saw fit to give me a fairly selective, if not faulty, memory. Thus, I find it fitting and reasonable that I write about what I meant to write about this weekend, which was the recent run of unexpected (and unjust) deaths that have affected my life the last week.
First there was George Carlin. I was never the biggest fan of his or a huge follower, but I believed in what he was doing and, as far as angry old men went, he was one of my favs.
Next, Dale H. Philpot, the well-loved pitching coach of Glendora Lassie League, had an accident at the Louie Pompei Sports Park and passed away on the way to the hospital on Thursday. I don't think I ever personally met him either, but actually seeing him just moments after it happened, the proximity was enough to get me thinking about life--the beginnings and the endings--and was sort of heavy.
Then came Friday: the double-deuce. It wasn't until Saturday that I heard about the incidents. At 4am, I get a tweet from Ben Templesmith reading: RIP Michael Turner. I leap out of bed to Google this information to be sure that it's not some horrible, tasteless joke. It was no joke. Needless to say, I was heartbroken and had to smoke another cigarette to calm my nerves as I texted the few friends I have who know who Michael Turner is. It weighed heavy on my whole day.
Then, before heading out for the evening, my mom stopped me at the car to let me know that our dog had died. Our dog hasn't lived with us for about 2 years, she's been living with my aunt at her house out in Claremont. I haven't seen her all that much lately, but I know the joy she brought to my aunt while she lived there, and I was if nothing else, I felt for her loss.
So, here I sit, 4.5 hours into the day after Hump Day, the day before Independence Day, having not smoked for 48 hours and I think to myself: Self, why are you still awake? Huh? No, that's not what I meant to--oh right, that was it--I didn't post that on here, but in my bulletins on Myspace, I copied something that Joss Whedon wrote some years ago for his show Angel. Uh, I'll put it here for reference:
KATE: I just couldn't... My whole life has been about being a cop. If I'm not part of the force it's like nothing I do means anything.
ANGEL: It doesn't.
KATE: Doesn't what?
ANGEL: Mean anything. In the greater scheme or the big picture, nothing we do matters. There's no grand plan, no big win.
KATE: You seem kind of chipper about that.
ANGEL: Well, I guess I kinda worked it out. If there is no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. 'cause that's all there is. What we do, now, today. - I fought for so long. For redemption, for a reward, finally just to beat the other guy, but... I never got it.
KATE: And now you do?
ANGEL: Not all of it. All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because I don't think people should suffer, as they do. Because, if there is no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world.
Each of the people (and dog) that passed away last week had a direct or indirect affect on my life. Each effect was unique and each varied in magnitude, but they all had an impact on me. And knowing that they are no longer around to perform their function makes me feel the void they've left. It makes me want to do more, reach out, stretch myself, and help people more than I do already. I'm not sure how I'm going to do that, or if I really can do that, but I guess I'm feeling more of the same thing I've been writing about on here: I need direction. I want a purpose for my life, and a reason to live. I don't know if any of the people who passed away last week realized what they meant to me, but I think they could take satisfaction in knowing that they each in their own way inspired me, and have pushed me in a positive direction.
Another positive direction I would like to be pushed in is the direction of my pillow. So with that, Internetz, I bid thee good morrow.
I am not what I appear to be.
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The Grinding Starts...
I find it a little bit funny that I find it so much easier to write in one of these stupid boxes than in other...boxes. I'll try writing an idea down or some journal entry or whatever in Notepad, and I get nowhere. I get bored or distracted or sick of writing when I'm not writing directly to the interweb.
Just a thought.
"Your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them." -Obi-Wan Kenobi
Your body, your senses, your surroundings, they are all a shroud. You can't trust what you see, so you're supposed to trust what you feel, right? "Reach out with your feelings"? What if you don't trust your feelings? What if you blame your feelings for what's wrong with your life? What are you supposed to do when you can't even trust yourself?
I have thoughts. Occasionally I'll even have an idea. Not often, but sometimes. Is it always a good one? Not really. Do I act on it? Rarely. Why is that? Because I've not had the greatest experience with applying my ideas to the real world. And I can usually figure out something wrong with them long after it's too late to fix it.
"Staying exactly the same for as long as possible, standing perfectly still... It feels better somehow. And if you are suffering, at least the pain is familiar. Because if you took that leap of faith, went outside the box, did something unexpected... Who knows what other pain might be waiting out there. Chances are it could be even worse."
Ephram and I share a tragic flaw: inability to change.
Part of it is obviously because change is hard. Part of it is because...I'm afraid of freedom. If I wasn't creating pain for myself, then I might experience a moment of actual happiness. And if that happened, great...but where will the next one come from? What if I never find it? What if I can't get that same happy high again and the world turns out to be the relentless disappointment we all know it is?
I guess I've already figured that out, if I'm asking that question. It's just...hard. It's stupid. I've posted this same thing half a dozen different ways and it always ends with me saying something about changing and then going a few weeks not changing, and coming back wondering why life hasn't gotten any better. I mutter about motivation and lack of determination and this time the spin is "not trusting myself". Well woopdie-fucking-doo, man! You don't trust yourself? What is there to trust, anyway? Really, if things are supposed to be a certain way, what way is that? And how will we know it when we see it? Or will we have to feel it?
I'm getting it from all sides, reminders that I should change. I say I want a revolution. What better place than here? What better time than now? Be someone new every day. Do I listen?
Do I listen?
Just a thought.
"Your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them." -Obi-Wan Kenobi
Your body, your senses, your surroundings, they are all a shroud. You can't trust what you see, so you're supposed to trust what you feel, right? "Reach out with your feelings"? What if you don't trust your feelings? What if you blame your feelings for what's wrong with your life? What are you supposed to do when you can't even trust yourself?
I have thoughts. Occasionally I'll even have an idea. Not often, but sometimes. Is it always a good one? Not really. Do I act on it? Rarely. Why is that? Because I've not had the greatest experience with applying my ideas to the real world. And I can usually figure out something wrong with them long after it's too late to fix it.
"Staying exactly the same for as long as possible, standing perfectly still... It feels better somehow. And if you are suffering, at least the pain is familiar. Because if you took that leap of faith, went outside the box, did something unexpected... Who knows what other pain might be waiting out there. Chances are it could be even worse."
Ephram and I share a tragic flaw: inability to change.
Part of it is obviously because change is hard. Part of it is because...I'm afraid of freedom. If I wasn't creating pain for myself, then I might experience a moment of actual happiness. And if that happened, great...but where will the next one come from? What if I never find it? What if I can't get that same happy high again and the world turns out to be the relentless disappointment we all know it is?
I guess I've already figured that out, if I'm asking that question. It's just...hard. It's stupid. I've posted this same thing half a dozen different ways and it always ends with me saying something about changing and then going a few weeks not changing, and coming back wondering why life hasn't gotten any better. I mutter about motivation and lack of determination and this time the spin is "not trusting myself". Well woopdie-fucking-doo, man! You don't trust yourself? What is there to trust, anyway? Really, if things are supposed to be a certain way, what way is that? And how will we know it when we see it? Or will we have to feel it?
I'm getting it from all sides, reminders that I should change. I say I want a revolution. What better place than here? What better time than now? Be someone new every day. Do I listen?
Do I listen?
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Ritual Sacrifice
Met with wonderful, kind, and generous Aunt Sandy today. Love that lady. I can tell she reads my blog because she brought up Dollhouse. She doesn't watch a whole lot of television, but if I can get her into that show at all, I'm sure I can get her into Joss' other shows no problem.
Among the many subjects we discussed, we talked again about how she wants me to come play guitar for her church's worship team. See, she kinda, sorta bought me a new 100w Fender amp a couple weeks ago. She said specifically, "No strings attached," but I sense a string or two. Not that she's going to force me at all, just that I know she wants me to "think about it". I don't really have to think about it though.
Do I miss playing and singing in front of people? Yes. Do I want to lead people to worship the god of the Christians? Not in the least. I just don't support it. I'm pretty sure I would be betraying my own beliefs if I were to perform with that group. It's not that I totally hate the Christian church. It has its valuable points, but for the most part, in a general sense, I really do hate it and what it has done to society since its inception. I hate a lot of what it's done to my own life. I hate seeing my family every day and knowing that there is just about no chance I can ever get them to understand things the way I understand them. That's obviously not that big a deal, since everyone should live the way they choose, I just wonder how much of a choice it is for my siblings; how much of a choice it ever was. Of course, that would be one of my least favorite things about not just Christianity, but religions in general: indoctrination.
That's another entry for another time.
My point being, while I would like to please my aunt and do a service for others that I'm experienced at and know I could do, I can't help but think it's a ploy to bring me back to the fold or some such. It's kind of a pain to have loved ones depressed because you're going to hell.
On a lighter note, uh...the little sis won her softball game? Yea, that's right, and I saw it! Saw Fish at the game too, always nice seeing how that guy's doing. I imagine he thinks of me as quite the tool, but I still think he's got some potential...one would hope.
I've been cleaning out my text message inbox? Yea, I'm totally more than halfway through April. I gotta find the setting on that doohickey that delets them a month later or something. I'm hoping for slightly faster phone once finished.
Anyway, that's most of the day in a nutshell. Also: knocked out a disc of Buffy and Angel tonight at Mary's. It's interesting watching them the way they aired. Just reminds me I gotta get together with Adam pronto before he finishes catching up on Doctor Who! Fantastic!
Among the many subjects we discussed, we talked again about how she wants me to come play guitar for her church's worship team. See, she kinda, sorta bought me a new 100w Fender amp a couple weeks ago. She said specifically, "No strings attached," but I sense a string or two. Not that she's going to force me at all, just that I know she wants me to "think about it". I don't really have to think about it though.
Do I miss playing and singing in front of people? Yes. Do I want to lead people to worship the god of the Christians? Not in the least. I just don't support it. I'm pretty sure I would be betraying my own beliefs if I were to perform with that group. It's not that I totally hate the Christian church. It has its valuable points, but for the most part, in a general sense, I really do hate it and what it has done to society since its inception. I hate a lot of what it's done to my own life. I hate seeing my family every day and knowing that there is just about no chance I can ever get them to understand things the way I understand them. That's obviously not that big a deal, since everyone should live the way they choose, I just wonder how much of a choice it is for my siblings; how much of a choice it ever was. Of course, that would be one of my least favorite things about not just Christianity, but religions in general: indoctrination.
That's another entry for another time.
My point being, while I would like to please my aunt and do a service for others that I'm experienced at and know I could do, I can't help but think it's a ploy to bring me back to the fold or some such. It's kind of a pain to have loved ones depressed because you're going to hell.
On a lighter note, uh...the little sis won her softball game? Yea, that's right, and I saw it! Saw Fish at the game too, always nice seeing how that guy's doing. I imagine he thinks of me as quite the tool, but I still think he's got some potential...one would hope.
I've been cleaning out my text message inbox? Yea, I'm totally more than halfway through April. I gotta find the setting on that doohickey that delets them a month later or something. I'm hoping for slightly faster phone once finished.
Anyway, that's most of the day in a nutshell. Also: knocked out a disc of Buffy and Angel tonight at Mary's. It's interesting watching them the way they aired. Just reminds me I gotta get together with Adam pronto before he finishes catching up on Doctor Who! Fantastic!
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Baby Steps
An actual feeling of accomplishment today. Maybe it hasn't set in just yet, but I finished 4 whole classes under my own power this semester, which is more than I can say for the last...couple years.
I studied some, slacked off more, but I like to think that I left each of those classes knowing just a little more than I did before taking them. Can't say I passed them all with the flying colors I maybe should have, but I am relatively sure I passed them. It's not a big accomplishment, but definitely one long overdue.
Now I look forward to a summer of more school and making just enough money to ensure the government will fuck me over again on my earnings. Y'know it's hard out here for an independent contractor.
This weekend specifically, I suppose I may find my way to local watering holes or "clubs" as some of the more hip kids may call them. I will also be catching up on the last couple months of comics that I have missed out on due to my newfound academia. The best things in life come after studying.
I gotta find a good time to see The Incredible Hulk also, as I have no doubt the comic shop crowds will be dying for my opinion on it. Kevin'll have seen it by tomorrow, but I had no crew to go with me to see it at midnight, so I will have to press on until the time comes. I don't expect it to be better than Iron Man, but it has to be better than the Hulk movie that came before, so that gives me some comfort.
Other than that, I'm going to pretend like it's summer until I get my more productive gigs rolling. Gotta start writing my scripts, figuring out where the turtles are going to live, and deciding if/when I will cut back/quit smoking and drinking.
The last one will be the doozy, but whatever I decide will turn out alright, I hope.
I figure that's about the most of what I have to say tonight that's interesting. I'll note that the essay I wrote for my history final kicked some ass and will likely leave my professor swooning. Justina was a sweetie, and I'm sure I helped make that class bearable for her. The least she can do is tweak my grade into a passing one.
Just gonna clean out my text message inbox a little. I just passed the ides of March, so that's like progress, right? It's amazing the tidbits one can come across when rereading some of the messages sent and received from just a few weeks in the past. I feel like I've come a ways from when these messages were conceived. It's a little encouraging. I haven't made it very far on this journey of change, but I like to think that these baby steps will turn into bigger, larger steps.
"Stand back! I take very large steps."
I studied some, slacked off more, but I like to think that I left each of those classes knowing just a little more than I did before taking them. Can't say I passed them all with the flying colors I maybe should have, but I am relatively sure I passed them. It's not a big accomplishment, but definitely one long overdue.
Now I look forward to a summer of more school and making just enough money to ensure the government will fuck me over again on my earnings. Y'know it's hard out here for an independent contractor.
This weekend specifically, I suppose I may find my way to local watering holes or "clubs" as some of the more hip kids may call them. I will also be catching up on the last couple months of comics that I have missed out on due to my newfound academia. The best things in life come after studying.
I gotta find a good time to see The Incredible Hulk also, as I have no doubt the comic shop crowds will be dying for my opinion on it. Kevin'll have seen it by tomorrow, but I had no crew to go with me to see it at midnight, so I will have to press on until the time comes. I don't expect it to be better than Iron Man, but it has to be better than the Hulk movie that came before, so that gives me some comfort.
Other than that, I'm going to pretend like it's summer until I get my more productive gigs rolling. Gotta start writing my scripts, figuring out where the turtles are going to live, and deciding if/when I will cut back/quit smoking and drinking.
The last one will be the doozy, but whatever I decide will turn out alright, I hope.
I figure that's about the most of what I have to say tonight that's interesting. I'll note that the essay I wrote for my history final kicked some ass and will likely leave my professor swooning. Justina was a sweetie, and I'm sure I helped make that class bearable for her. The least she can do is tweak my grade into a passing one.
Just gonna clean out my text message inbox a little. I just passed the ides of March, so that's like progress, right? It's amazing the tidbits one can come across when rereading some of the messages sent and received from just a few weeks in the past. I feel like I've come a ways from when these messages were conceived. It's a little encouraging. I haven't made it very far on this journey of change, but I like to think that these baby steps will turn into bigger, larger steps.
"Stand back! I take very large steps."
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Home Sweet Home
I'm supposed to be a'sleepin' right now, but I couldn't help but finish the last episode of Quarterlife before bed. And I'm glad I did. It inspired me a bit.
Dylan's last line before Debra came home made me want to blog and journal more: "I just wanted to document for a moment in time that we all lived in this place."
Cheesy? A bit. But I don't mind that sometimes. I have a soft spot for soaps. And even though I rarely feel I have anything to contribute to the world around me, I was born with this voice, and I should let it out sometimes. Not just to parrot the latest insanity the internet has delivered, but to document the fact that I lived here. Regardless of who's listening or who cares or how important or unimportant my views, opinions, or ideas are to the world, we only live here once. And I want to live out loud.
Dylan's last line before Debra came home made me want to blog and journal more: "I just wanted to document for a moment in time that we all lived in this place."
Cheesy? A bit. But I don't mind that sometimes. I have a soft spot for soaps. And even though I rarely feel I have anything to contribute to the world around me, I was born with this voice, and I should let it out sometimes. Not just to parrot the latest insanity the internet has delivered, but to document the fact that I lived here. Regardless of who's listening or who cares or how important or unimportant my views, opinions, or ideas are to the world, we only live here once. And I want to live out loud.
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Life in Quarters
The girl on my soap lost her gig for being on the wrong drug at the wrong time.
Is it really that easy to lose what you've worked for or hoped for so long in an instant where you really didn't know what the cost of a choice was?
I suppose so.
Hey Life, how's it going? Wait, where are you off to?
Is it really that easy to lose what you've worked for or hoped for so long in an instant where you really didn't know what the cost of a choice was?
I suppose so.
Hey Life, how's it going? Wait, where are you off to?
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What rhymes with 'loathing'...?
Apparently I wrote poetry once. It was for school, but I wanted to post something so here's some original works:
Friendly Fire
Life is funny with all its
Coincidences.
Yellow passion thwarts my
Green ring.
I break down the door,
Flustered,
And the beast within rears its
Ugly head.
His voracious propensity
For hurting those I love
Renders me helpless,
but inescapably aware.
Streams of tears meet in one
River
Before I stumble to the car.
I could never leave.
Origin
I am from Metropolis.
I am from the mild-mannered and the pure in heart.
Cold meatballs,
The Karate Kid,
Phosphates,
I braved swamps, wolf spiders, and dumpsters.
I am from a tree
In a park
In another town.
Lonely Mountain and Gotham City serve
As my getaways.
From flannel graph to graphing conic sections
From "1 Fish, 2 Fish" to 1984
Solitude has not had a chance to settle
And settling has not been an option
I am from 100 sheep,
An empty lamp,
Inappropriately open gates;
I am from I am,
And I plan to return.
So there. Wasn't that fun? I wish I could say I've improved, but I don't think I've actually done anything like this since they stopped forcing it on me.
I'm not sure if it even counts as poetry really, but I got full credit from a kindly old woman, so I'm satisfied.
Friendly Fire
Life is funny with all its
Coincidences.
Yellow passion thwarts my
Green ring.
I break down the door,
Flustered,
And the beast within rears its
Ugly head.
His voracious propensity
For hurting those I love
Renders me helpless,
but inescapably aware.
Streams of tears meet in one
River
Before I stumble to the car.
I could never leave.
Origin
I am from Metropolis.
I am from the mild-mannered and the pure in heart.
Cold meatballs,
The Karate Kid,
Phosphates,
I braved swamps, wolf spiders, and dumpsters.
I am from a tree
In a park
In another town.
Lonely Mountain and Gotham City serve
As my getaways.
From flannel graph to graphing conic sections
From "1 Fish, 2 Fish" to 1984
Solitude has not had a chance to settle
And settling has not been an option
I am from 100 sheep,
An empty lamp,
Inappropriately open gates;
I am from I am,
And I plan to return.
So there. Wasn't that fun? I wish I could say I've improved, but I don't think I've actually done anything like this since they stopped forcing it on me.
I'm not sure if it even counts as poetry really, but I got full credit from a kindly old woman, so I'm satisfied.
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Tintypes
As I was standing outside smoking my last cigarette, I had a realization. There was a time, not too long ago, that I thought I could take care of the people around me. I used to feel that no matter how bad things got, for me or for those around me, that I would be able to be a good thing in peoples' lives and I could help them in one way or another.
I don't feel that so much anymore and I think that's where a great deal of the disappointment in myself comes from. Because, whether or not that was true, I felt it was and I felt I was doing some good. Now that I've realized how difficult it is to even take care of myself, I find that I am not nearly as able to care for others as I once did. Or at least that's how it feels.
I want to feel that way again. And I think I can do it if I can continue to grow and mature as a person. So that's my new goal, retroactive though it may be, it's better than some of my other retroactive behaviors.
I think I can do it. I think I can, and when it gets hard I can try harder. And when trying harder is too hard, I'll get a little help from my friends. And lucky for me, I have awesome friends.
I don't feel that so much anymore and I think that's where a great deal of the disappointment in myself comes from. Because, whether or not that was true, I felt it was and I felt I was doing some good. Now that I've realized how difficult it is to even take care of myself, I find that I am not nearly as able to care for others as I once did. Or at least that's how it feels.
I want to feel that way again. And I think I can do it if I can continue to grow and mature as a person. So that's my new goal, retroactive though it may be, it's better than some of my other retroactive behaviors.
I think I can do it. I think I can, and when it gets hard I can try harder. And when trying harder is too hard, I'll get a little help from my friends. And lucky for me, I have awesome friends.
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Poncho Happy
First: I see my meloversary came and went. I should really write that down somewhere. Thanks to everybody who showed love.
Next: Back hurts.
Strained it a little over a week ago and it hasn't been the same since. Not that it's been very strong the last year or so, it's getting worse.
Saw the gastro-internist for probably the last time Tuesday. He gave me some meds and said he's done about all there is for him to do. It feels a lot like square one, which I'm not sure is such a bad thing. When I started actually dragging my ass to the doctor's office I was hardly coherent or motivated to level with my physician on account of I had a head full of mary sunshine and left my common sense somewhere in '06.
I have a couple options left to me. One is to see my mother's chiropractor, he can try some of his witchcraft on me and possibly determine a cause the agony I've decided to endure. Another option would be to change my primary physician and start from scratch. Introduce the case as it is now and see if he would have any other avenues for us to take.
I wish I could say I was encouraged by these options, but with the thought of having to sit in a desk for hours at a time, starting next week, I'm hardly thrilled.
But that's enough complaining.
Saw Atonement tonight and found it extremely enjoyable. A lovely film, really gorgeous to look at. The score by Jean-Yves Thibaudet was terrific, really set the tempo for the film. I'd say my favorite sequence was the Dunkirk evacuation. The juxtaposition of war against our society's world of vice and pointless entertainment was suberb. I love it when art takes a phenomenon like war and drops it somewhere unexpected, like a carnival.
All that to say I had a wonderful evening in spite of annoying back pain.
Before hitting the theater with Mary, I had a visit with my good pal Adam. I can never not have a good time with that guy. It's still totally bizarre to me how we click on so many things without having known each other all our lives, but we do, and it rocks.
We took in some Season 3 Buffy episodes, including Anya's intro The Wish, in which Cordelia wishes Buffy Summers never came to Sunnydale. At which point, Anya grants Cordy's wish, instantly creating a kickass alt-verse where Xander and Willow are vampires working for the Master. Another effect of this alt-verse is everyone wears double the eye makeup the would in reg-verse.
Needless to say, it was a supreme pleasure hanging with Adam again.
LOST was yet another thrill ride, this time focusing on Kate and her legal dealings after returning to the U.S. This makes 2 episodes in a row that they've saved the biggest surprise for last. I have tried not to allow myself to become so attached to any character that I'd stop watching the show if they died, but if something happens to Claire, I will be ultra-ultra pissed. Cuse, Lindeloff, Abrams, Goddard, even BKV will be hearing from me (possibly even in all CAPS) if they kill that beautiful blonde flower of a girl. Emilie de Ravin has had a special place in my heart since the oldschool days of Roswell (not to mention Brick). I just don't know if I could go on without her.
Anyway, a terrific Thursday. A Friday of equal or lesser value shall be revealed after this short nap. Thanks for your time.
Next: Back hurts.
Strained it a little over a week ago and it hasn't been the same since. Not that it's been very strong the last year or so, it's getting worse.
Saw the gastro-internist for probably the last time Tuesday. He gave me some meds and said he's done about all there is for him to do. It feels a lot like square one, which I'm not sure is such a bad thing. When I started actually dragging my ass to the doctor's office I was hardly coherent or motivated to level with my physician on account of I had a head full of mary sunshine and left my common sense somewhere in '06.
I have a couple options left to me. One is to see my mother's chiropractor, he can try some of his witchcraft on me and possibly determine a cause the agony I've decided to endure. Another option would be to change my primary physician and start from scratch. Introduce the case as it is now and see if he would have any other avenues for us to take.
I wish I could say I was encouraged by these options, but with the thought of having to sit in a desk for hours at a time, starting next week, I'm hardly thrilled.
But that's enough complaining.
Saw Atonement tonight and found it extremely enjoyable. A lovely film, really gorgeous to look at. The score by Jean-Yves Thibaudet was terrific, really set the tempo for the film. I'd say my favorite sequence was the Dunkirk evacuation. The juxtaposition of war against our society's world of vice and pointless entertainment was suberb. I love it when art takes a phenomenon like war and drops it somewhere unexpected, like a carnival.
All that to say I had a wonderful evening in spite of annoying back pain.
Before hitting the theater with Mary, I had a visit with my good pal Adam. I can never not have a good time with that guy. It's still totally bizarre to me how we click on so many things without having known each other all our lives, but we do, and it rocks.
We took in some Season 3 Buffy episodes, including Anya's intro The Wish, in which Cordelia wishes Buffy Summers never came to Sunnydale. At which point, Anya grants Cordy's wish, instantly creating a kickass alt-verse where Xander and Willow are vampires working for the Master. Another effect of this alt-verse is everyone wears double the eye makeup the would in reg-verse.
Needless to say, it was a supreme pleasure hanging with Adam again.
LOST was yet another thrill ride, this time focusing on Kate and her legal dealings after returning to the U.S. This makes 2 episodes in a row that they've saved the biggest surprise for last. I have tried not to allow myself to become so attached to any character that I'd stop watching the show if they died, but if something happens to Claire, I will be ultra-ultra pissed. Cuse, Lindeloff, Abrams, Goddard, even BKV will be hearing from me (possibly even in all CAPS) if they kill that beautiful blonde flower of a girl. Emilie de Ravin has had a special place in my heart since the oldschool days of Roswell (not to mention Brick). I just don't know if I could go on without her.
Anyway, a terrific Thursday. A Friday of equal or lesser value shall be revealed after this short nap. Thanks for your time.
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Save Yourself
I had a dream last night.
We were on a road trip. Mom, dad, and Grandma were there. We had stopped somewhere, Utah, Nevada, somewhere deserty. We were getting gas or some such when I encountered a little blond boy. He wasn't any older than 4 or 5.
When I saw him, my first inclination was to interact with him, maybe to relieve the stress of enduring a long car ride, but probably just my own childlike nature reaching out to him. I asked his name, but for the life of me, I can't remember it. He looked sort of like a child version of Elton from one of the episodes of Doctor Who I watched with Mary tonight. They had similar noses.
Anyway, one of my ideas for how to play with this kid was to put him up on my shoulders. I'm kind of tall and kids are not, so they often get a kick out of the change in perspective, not to mention altitude. He of course accepted my offer and up he went. When I stood up, though, my vision got all spotty and I felt faint. My gut hurt in the spot it's been hurting the last couple years, and I was afraid I'd faint with this little kid on my shoulders. He wasn't real heavy, but he was heavy enough that it wasn't safe for either of us for me to lift him.
His guardian, a mid-aged woman not his mother, showed up and made the usual apologies grown-ups make for the little ones in their charge. And after that we left.
As I said, I'm not sure exactly where we were, but I felt we had been there before. And I can't remember the kid's name, but I'm wondering who he was, and why his mother wasn't the one watching him. And the significance of my not being able to support him? I just wanted to give him a little excitement, a perspective he couldn't get without my help. But I wasn't in the right condition to be doing that; not safely anyway.
I guess that's the point I've reached with a friend of mine I've known and hoped to help for a few years. He's basically a child, and he has no one. His mother doesn't look after him, neither of his parents really want to have to take care of him anymore. So I thought I could help, take him up on my shoulders, change his perspective. Much to my dismay, I don't think I can do that safely anymore. It's hard for me to let that play.
Everybody hurts. The pain makes us human. I understand that. My issue has always been that, when I see hurting people, I want to help. I just want people to hear the good news. A few years ago, that would've meant the news about the Jesus who came to 'seek and save the lost'.
Today I preach a different message, and this is it: We are each our own saviors. Within each of us lies the power to end the hurting, the emptiness, the loneliness, the sorrow, doubt, jealousy, despair, greed, depression, whatever it is that drags you down. You can be lifted up. For some people it can be done with a change in surroundings, others with a change in perspective. Some people simply need to take their mind off it for a little while and their soul will right itself in its own time. Others need to surround themselves with loved ones and let them share the burden. And still others will need a combination of all those things and more.
All that is to say that I have been changing and growing lately. More in the last couple weeks than I have in the last couple years. And it is only beginning. Some of the change will be easy and pleasant; some of it will not, but I'm not afraid.
I welcome the apocalypse, because after the world ends, there's only one thing left that can happen. And when the old world fades away, the one that takes its place will shine brighter than anything ever has, and we will feel as though this new world is all that ever was.
There is change in the air. Can you feel it? I hope you do. It feels you.
End of the world? I say bring it on. I'm in it to win it. Because it's all or nothing. Again, I say, bring it on. :P
Just do me this favor and remember: save yourself.
We were on a road trip. Mom, dad, and Grandma were there. We had stopped somewhere, Utah, Nevada, somewhere deserty. We were getting gas or some such when I encountered a little blond boy. He wasn't any older than 4 or 5.
When I saw him, my first inclination was to interact with him, maybe to relieve the stress of enduring a long car ride, but probably just my own childlike nature reaching out to him. I asked his name, but for the life of me, I can't remember it. He looked sort of like a child version of Elton from one of the episodes of Doctor Who I watched with Mary tonight. They had similar noses.
Anyway, one of my ideas for how to play with this kid was to put him up on my shoulders. I'm kind of tall and kids are not, so they often get a kick out of the change in perspective, not to mention altitude. He of course accepted my offer and up he went. When I stood up, though, my vision got all spotty and I felt faint. My gut hurt in the spot it's been hurting the last couple years, and I was afraid I'd faint with this little kid on my shoulders. He wasn't real heavy, but he was heavy enough that it wasn't safe for either of us for me to lift him.
His guardian, a mid-aged woman not his mother, showed up and made the usual apologies grown-ups make for the little ones in their charge. And after that we left.
As I said, I'm not sure exactly where we were, but I felt we had been there before. And I can't remember the kid's name, but I'm wondering who he was, and why his mother wasn't the one watching him. And the significance of my not being able to support him? I just wanted to give him a little excitement, a perspective he couldn't get without my help. But I wasn't in the right condition to be doing that; not safely anyway.
I guess that's the point I've reached with a friend of mine I've known and hoped to help for a few years. He's basically a child, and he has no one. His mother doesn't look after him, neither of his parents really want to have to take care of him anymore. So I thought I could help, take him up on my shoulders, change his perspective. Much to my dismay, I don't think I can do that safely anymore. It's hard for me to let that play.
Everybody hurts. The pain makes us human. I understand that. My issue has always been that, when I see hurting people, I want to help. I just want people to hear the good news. A few years ago, that would've meant the news about the Jesus who came to 'seek and save the lost'.
Today I preach a different message, and this is it: We are each our own saviors. Within each of us lies the power to end the hurting, the emptiness, the loneliness, the sorrow, doubt, jealousy, despair, greed, depression, whatever it is that drags you down. You can be lifted up. For some people it can be done with a change in surroundings, others with a change in perspective. Some people simply need to take their mind off it for a little while and their soul will right itself in its own time. Others need to surround themselves with loved ones and let them share the burden. And still others will need a combination of all those things and more.
All that is to say that I have been changing and growing lately. More in the last couple weeks than I have in the last couple years. And it is only beginning. Some of the change will be easy and pleasant; some of it will not, but I'm not afraid.
I welcome the apocalypse, because after the world ends, there's only one thing left that can happen. And when the old world fades away, the one that takes its place will shine brighter than anything ever has, and we will feel as though this new world is all that ever was.
There is change in the air. Can you feel it? I hope you do. It feels you.
End of the world? I say bring it on. I'm in it to win it. Because it's all or nothing. Again, I say, bring it on. :P
Just do me this favor and remember: save yourself.
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Tickets For Trolls
What a day. What a night. What a life I've been leading. I'm actually in sort of an up place right now, which is odd. I found classes for school and found out we don't start until February. Great news, considering I have no idea what's going to be going on with me health-wise in the coming weeks. I have my endoscopy in the morning and I'm hoping that will bring good news. I've had that weird pain in my guts for about 2 years now, so it would be great to finally have some answers.
And tonight was superb. After getting back from school I rushed to Hannah's to find out what her big surprise was. It was a gift for going 6 days w/out Mary Sunshine and...being me? Anyway, we took off from her place and ended up at the grand ol' Chuck E. Cheese's where her friend Alfred let us in and gave us pizza and tokens. 260 tokens, to be exact. Plenty. We were there for probably 2 hours and ended up with 1013 tickets; enough to score us a pair of Troll dolls!
As if that wasn't enough, afterwards we went out to see the Juno movie. Totally killer. Loved the hell out of it. If it were a book, I'd read it. That's how much I loved it.
All in all, a kickass night. One of the best, hence the entry. Plus, I wanted to actually have something positive on here, since I've been on such a depression kick the last few...dozen months. Fortunately, I'm making an effort to change that and have an incredible support system. Joss be praised!
And tonight was superb. After getting back from school I rushed to Hannah's to find out what her big surprise was. It was a gift for going 6 days w/out Mary Sunshine and...being me? Anyway, we took off from her place and ended up at the grand ol' Chuck E. Cheese's where her friend Alfred let us in and gave us pizza and tokens. 260 tokens, to be exact. Plenty. We were there for probably 2 hours and ended up with 1013 tickets; enough to score us a pair of Troll dolls!
As if that wasn't enough, afterwards we went out to see the Juno movie. Totally killer. Loved the hell out of it. If it were a book, I'd read it. That's how much I loved it.
All in all, a kickass night. One of the best, hence the entry. Plus, I wanted to actually have something positive on here, since I've been on such a depression kick the last few...dozen months. Fortunately, I'm making an effort to change that and have an incredible support system. Joss be praised!
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The sadness will end
It's Friday morning. I'll be at work in 10 hours. For some reason, after a day like today, it has become something I believe I will dread.
About an hour ago I passed out, fainted. Not sure why. Life is getting difficult again and I suppose I just didn't expect it. I'm hoping I don't feel like I do now tomorrow or I may not make it. Missing out on hours would be the worst thing that could happen to me. Not now.
I wonder if they still do sleep studies around these parts. I wonder if I could get units for it. I wonder what the next 7 days will bring.
About an hour ago I passed out, fainted. Not sure why. Life is getting difficult again and I suppose I just didn't expect it. I'm hoping I don't feel like I do now tomorrow or I may not make it. Missing out on hours would be the worst thing that could happen to me. Not now.
I wonder if they still do sleep studies around these parts. I wonder if I could get units for it. I wonder what the next 7 days will bring.
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With a little help from my friends
Well, it finally happened. The breaking point I needed. I've known forever that my life wasn't going the way I wanted, the way it should go, but I couldn't face it. I'm still not sure if I can face it, but that doesn't matter. What I am sure of is that I have friends and family that care and will help me through whatever I need to face. Period.
I haven't the slightest clue what I did to be so lucky. It simply escapes me. Yet, here it is, my wonderful life given to me at no charge. Now I gotta get busy with what Tom Hanks said in Saving Private Ryan. I have to earn this. "There's a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot." - Steven Wright
I haven't the slightest clue what I did to be so lucky. It simply escapes me. Yet, here it is, my wonderful life given to me at no charge. Now I gotta get busy with what Tom Hanks said in Saving Private Ryan. I have to earn this. "There's a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot." - Steven Wright
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Like Television?
I'm sure everyone here has and loves their MySpace, but I thought people should know that they're censoring and augmenting the links you use in your profile and in your bulletins.
But don't take my word for it when you could ask a ninja. Also, he'll tell you EVERYTHING you need to know about the Writer's Strike if you click here.
But don't take my word for it when you could ask a ninja. Also, he'll tell you EVERYTHING you need to know about the Writer's Strike if you click here.
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Suspended Annihilation
I want to be a writer, but I hate writing. I want to be a student, but I hate school. I want to be a kind person, but I'm a cynic. I want to live, but I hate struggle.
...Oh gods, cast out this wicked dream which has seized my heart...
...Oh gods, cast out this wicked dream which has seized my heart...
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Bring me a dream
I'm not sure I can sleep tonight.
Haven't exactly succeeded thus far. I have to wake up for work in 3 hours and I can't keep my mind from racing. I can hardly keep my eyes shut. I don't know if I'm stressed about work or just so eager to be done with it that I don't know what to do with myself.
Is there any way I can make a 3 hour nap worth it?
&@%$!
Haven't exactly succeeded thus far. I have to wake up for work in 3 hours and I can't keep my mind from racing. I can hardly keep my eyes shut. I don't know if I'm stressed about work or just so eager to be done with it that I don't know what to do with myself.
Is there any way I can make a 3 hour nap worth it?
&@%$!
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It was late. I was tired.
What is it that makes us cling to life so? What has us convinced that this existence will feel any less torturous or pointless than the next?
People don't recall much of life before they were born. And anything pre-zygote is pretty much out the window. But intelligence in the most basic sense can be measured by how much the being in question can retain knowledge and how accurately they can recall that knowledge. This requires memory.
If we could remember what it was like before we were born, before we were cells, who knows where we could sit on our evolutionary plane. It would appear safe to say we would better understand life and death. We may even be able to control it in a fashion that isn't so destructive.
I'm not saying I think a person should live forever. I believe there are other spheres of existence that should be explored, that must be experienced. I just think we could manage better as a species.
People don't recall much of life before they were born. And anything pre-zygote is pretty much out the window. But intelligence in the most basic sense can be measured by how much the being in question can retain knowledge and how accurately they can recall that knowledge. This requires memory.
If we could remember what it was like before we were born, before we were cells, who knows where we could sit on our evolutionary plane. It would appear safe to say we would better understand life and death. We may even be able to control it in a fashion that isn't so destructive.
I'm not saying I think a person should live forever. I believe there are other spheres of existence that should be explored, that must be experienced. I just think we could manage better as a species.
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What does the color blue taste like?
Probably wasted a lot more time than I should have today.
Things tend to go that way for me.
Productivity is so overrated. Like money. Or success.
Things tend to go that way for me.
Productivity is so overrated. Like money. Or success.
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Gramarye
Watched Gracie's Choice today after buying it from the Hollywood Video that's closing down. I was so totally stoked to find it. I loves me a Kristen Bell film. And it was so totally heart-wrenching. My heart was wrenched several times, I remember.
She'll be appearing on Heroes any time now. I hear she's got the best power on the show[, her words.] I hope it's the power to like, seduce anyone...including Claire.
She'll be appearing on Heroes any time now. I hear she's got the best power on the show[, her words.] I hope it's the power to like, seduce anyone...including Claire.
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Edward D. Wood, Jr.
I'm pretty fucking irritated at myself.
Last week was our family movie night where we visit with a few people we used to go to church with. I can't imagine why, but at the previous movie night, I was chosen to select the next month's movie pick.
I really wanted to show Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter for a good laugh, but I never got around to tracking it down. So, in something of a rushed panic, I decided The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou would be acceptable. My mother disagreed.
My parents, to let you know, are the most conservative/backwards-minded people in the county. You'll be hard pressed to find anyone who's head is buried deeper in the sand than these two.
Anywho, mom didn't like the boobs or swearing and had a brontosaurus over it.
Then last night, I watched Ed Wood. It knocked my socks off and it was significantly less offensive in the areas my mother was so concerned with.
This is what raised me.
They would've been less offended by a movie about a man who likes to dress in women's clothing that has less than a dozen F-Words in it, than a parody of Jacques Cousteau by Wes Anderson.
Okay, maybe I'm less pissed at myself and more pissed at having to live in the same house as the moral majority, but whatever.
Pissed.
Pissed and hungry.
Last week was our family movie night where we visit with a few people we used to go to church with. I can't imagine why, but at the previous movie night, I was chosen to select the next month's movie pick.
I really wanted to show Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter for a good laugh, but I never got around to tracking it down. So, in something of a rushed panic, I decided The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou would be acceptable. My mother disagreed.
My parents, to let you know, are the most conservative/backwards-minded people in the county. You'll be hard pressed to find anyone who's head is buried deeper in the sand than these two.
Anywho, mom didn't like the boobs or swearing and had a brontosaurus over it.
Then last night, I watched Ed Wood. It knocked my socks off and it was significantly less offensive in the areas my mother was so concerned with.
This is what raised me.
They would've been less offended by a movie about a man who likes to dress in women's clothing that has less than a dozen F-Words in it, than a parody of Jacques Cousteau by Wes Anderson.
Okay, maybe I'm less pissed at myself and more pissed at having to live in the same house as the moral majority, but whatever.
Pissed.
Pissed and hungry.
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Over and over again
Haven't read this week's books yet, but I'm hoping I'll have a chance to tomorrow. Spider-Man Red Sonja's a big deal, guys, I swear. It's going to have massive repercussions on the Marvel universe as we know it for decades.
I may have to dust off the ol' P-coat pretty soon here as it may rain tomorrow. Perhaps it'll only rain overnight then we can deal with the gloom in the day. Whatever happens, I'll be safely tucked away in the fishbowl. I should get a hamster wheel.
I may have to dust off the ol' P-coat pretty soon here as it may rain tomorrow. Perhaps it'll only rain overnight then we can deal with the gloom in the day. Whatever happens, I'll be safely tucked away in the fishbowl. I should get a hamster wheel.
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The New Deal
Is it just me or is there a change in the ether that's happened since last night? For some reason I'm feeling life has more options and possibilities than I did yesterday. I'm not sure what those possibilities are, but something about the change in the weather has revitalized me. Well, my expectations have been revitalized. Hopefully school doesn't suck today after having cut class Tuesday.
I also missed Gossip Girl last night. I saw the first 10 minutes on YouTube, but that's hardly a quarter of the episode. Hopefully the internet will be more eager to please me after school.
Today, remind yourself that we're all selling time and you've got a lot to lose. Make a new deal.
I also missed Gossip Girl last night. I saw the first 10 minutes on YouTube, but that's hardly a quarter of the episode. Hopefully the internet will be more eager to please me after school.
Today, remind yourself that we're all selling time and you've got a lot to lose. Make a new deal.
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You Have Been Cancelled
I'm hoping the slight increase in mucus production on my part won't offend anybody tomorrow. Drooling from the nose isn't exactly attractive. I don't know what it is either. I guess it could be a cold, but I haven't been sick in ages. My best guess is it's the season change. The sun gets awful low, awful early in the evening today. I'm gettin' cold on the way to my car after class. It's that time again. I love and hate it. Like most things, I suppose.
Books nominated for my blog this week: Lobo/Bataman and Umbrella Academy.
Anyway, it's late. I wanted to type on the typing machine. Now I'm finished.
Books nominated for my blog this week: Lobo/Bataman and Umbrella Academy.
Anyway, it's late. I wanted to type on the typing machine. Now I'm finished.
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freakyfudge
About Me
Jesus was BlackRonald Reagan was the devilAnd the government is lying about 9-11
Real Name:James Harper
Birthday:
Apr 8 1987
Disposition:
Zen
Location:
The G-Town
Sex?:
If it's on the menu
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