Archive for November, 2011

Earbuds (addendum)

I need these:

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Saltus

Saltus Ergo Sum.

Just sayin, you will never feel more alive than you do when you taunt mortality. Tempting death is crazy, illogical, quite possibly a sign of madness.

I love doing it anyway. I wonder what it is in my brain chemistry that makes me want to do the things that I do.

B.A.S.E-ics of Survival

Motivation, I remember you, good of you to return.

In other news a very recent conversation (Danke, Erin) revealed to me how very much I epitomize the dual nature of a Gemini. In the sense that the things that I am, the things that I do, the things that I love are all things that are most generally mutually exclusive. I’ve always known that I have some conflicting interests, however the stars weren’t really much of a consideration until that convo.

I am a theorizer. I am a writer. I am a science geek. I am a sci-fi nerd. I am a gamer: I love rpg’s (role-playing-games). I am a dreamer. I am a marathon runner. I am a sky-diver. I am a snowboarder. I am an aggressive in-line skater. I am a base jumper.I am an adrenaline junkie.

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I am an odd amalgamate of things usually left separate.

It’s made my life an interesting, albeit sometimes wildly intense, place.

I am truly thankful for all of the things, oft-conflicting, that I am. It is me, my entirety that makes my life one that I love so much that I cannot even describe it.

Go out there, do something that scares the living hell out of you, and then tell me how you feel afterward.

Face every second with a confidence born of accomplishment, of fears faced and conquered. It is one of the best feelings you can experience as a human being.

That said, I’ll be working my way back into the saddle this winter. The sky is calling and the summer sun will greet my return to the aeries of eagles.

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Leap V2***

And once again I surprise myself by not seeing the obvious answer.

I need, very badly, to jump off of something.

Adrenaline withdrawal is an awful thing in my estimation.

I looked back over some posts, thought my way through a few action-items on my agenda and BAM. It suddenly hits me that it’s been five years, seven months and eleven days since I’ve taken that leap into the vast emptiness of our atmosphere.

Just thinking about the process sets my heart to racing, my blood boiling in my veins, threatening to explode.

The rasp of nylon over stainless steel. The eerie howl of the wind that you can only get at height. The absurd thoughts and mind blowing clarity of every sense as you force yourself ever closer to the edge of nothing.

The leap is an indescribable thing, there is a primal fear that surges through you as you look over that precipice, fight-or-flight taking over your limbic system.

I always close my eyes and say my goodbyes and then I let go and fall.

It’s a feeling I’ll never be able to capture with words. The languages I speak are far too limited in their vocabulary.

There’s a moment though, one of those in-between moments I love so very much. A moment when your mind is clear, you know you’re falling toward the earth at terminal velocity but you feel only the cushion of a perfect oxygen/nitrogen blend pushing against you.

As though the hand of god were holding you up, suspended in a frozen moment.

All too soon the moment is gone, fleeting, ephemeral and still somehow so visceral.

Then the mundanities of the situation call attention to the fact that you’ve got to pull your rip, sketch a landing, haul your chute in and run like hell before the cops get there.

I’ve got goosebumps just thinking about it.

Below is are some images of the Asylum Perigree Pro, 2-pin-closure canopy container. It is a thing of beauty. Not just for the design but for the freedom it represents.

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***Base Jumping is the sport of using a parachute to jump from fixed objects. “BASE” is an acronym that stands for the four categories of objects from which one can jump:

• (B)uilding
• (A)ntenna (an uninhabited tower such as an aerial mast)
• (S)pan (a bridge, arch or dome)
• (E)arth (a cliff, crater, canyon or other natural formation)

Vaguely

I lay here, in my bed watching Battlestar Galactica on my 360, it is my new Netflix obsession.

For some reason I can’t quite shake a vaguely uneasy feeling. Like I’m missing something obvious, maybe my subconscious won’t let me see it, maybe it’s nothing. It’s not knowing that is driving me a little crazy.

Well, more like frustrated and annoyed. I hate not being able to figure something out. I’ve thought about little else and I have no solid answers. Just inklings, snippets, ideas…suspicions even.

My life is good, great in fact. This makes me very intent on figuring out what, why, where, who and how.

For some reason the really huge things that crop up are so much easier for me to deal with than the little ones.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Personal idiosyncrasies aside, it’s making my mood dark and my dreams odd.

This is unacceptable.

I feel like its probably nothing. But there’s that tingling, tickling in the back of my mind, teasing me with its inaccessibility.

My mind is an odd place. It is a strange world I inhabit – that at least has never been called into question.

Screaming

…but the shadow still remains from your descent, your descent (you’re decent)…

Going big, going hard, or going home. These are not just words, they’re a philosophy. For me it’s a reminder to always throw everything I have, everything I am, into everything that I do.

I can be far too demanding of myself, I push myself constantly, sometimes too far – how else do we find our own limits, how else do we expand our personal borders?

On a lighter note, this is what I write my novels on:

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It’s about four and a half years old, pre-Dell buyout. It still screams. Just like me.

Write

My blog is looking a little bi-polar these days.

I feel the need to assure everyone that I’m not tragically sad in any way. Writing things down is how I work my way through the issues that crop up in daily life. And for all of the other things I worry about; generally unquantifiable ephemeralities.

I have to rewrite my synopsis for the series again. It’s becoming a weekly event as ideas come to me. A novel is truly an ever-evolving creature, one that takes on a life of its own and grows beyond the original vision in utterly inconceivable ways.

Of all of the things that I do, all of the things that I am; I love writing and by extension being a writer, the best.

It is incredibly cathartic.

I’ve got a few days of uninterrupted writing coming up and I’m sure it will improve my mood exponentially.

It always does.