Archive for March, 2012

Stars

Every time I look up into the night sky I realize that I was born a thousand years too early.

Clarifying

Insomnia.

When you have insomnia you’re never really asleep but you’re never really awake either.

I don’t sleep well, I never have. I don’t keep what one might call regular hours and I’ve learned to function productively on very little rest.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I can sleep for more than a few hours at a time.

I think that this post is going to be a bit more about the mundane parts of my life. I’ve got a headache and that’s not really conducive to exploring the things I generally like to discuss here.

I still feel compelled to write though, even when my thoughts are moving at the speed of cold sap. That’s actually weirdly encouraging.

My back hurts. I pulled a muscle in my lower back a week or so ago. Pretty much awful, I’ve never had back problems so rather naturally I was unprepared for just how limited your world becomes when you can’t tie your own shoes.

I’m stuck at the dividing line between the end of one novel and the beginning of the next. Foggy, gray area you have become my home.

My poor beaten up civic has been acting oddly all week, maybe it’s sympathy pangs, that car and I have been through a lot together. Side note on that: I have, since my first ride at sixteen, named my cars after early twentieth-century starlets.

Strange? Maybe.

That scene in the first matrix movie when Smith is having a bit of a breakdown interrogating Morpheus is close to the surface. I must escape this place and in this mind is a key, my key.

I am seriously going a little crazy since I can’t run. I need to run. It’s something that I don’t think I can really live without.

This annoying injury makes me feel old. I’m not a fan of that feeling in any way. I will say this though; still no gray. Not much leaves marks on me, yeah I’ve got some (fairly serious) scars but I’ve earned every single one of them.

I think that my blog has been far too serious and somewhat depressing for a while now. I hardly ever write down the things that make me happy, or any of those things that make me laugh. When there are days between posts you can be certain that I was smiling enough that I didn’t need to write through anything.

I think that I need to change that.

Here’s something. Sandwiches. I freakin love sandwiches. Probably my favorite food. I love bread, and cheese, do not get me started on cheese. Sandwiches have an endless variety in terms of fillers and condiments. One can never be bored with a sandwich if that sandwich has been properly made.

This is from a conversation I had today about cheese and sandwiches, it illustrates my views perfectly:

Cheese is the most important part of a sandwich – adding both flavor and texture and also getting another food group into your hand…that being said, I think it’s chief virtue is that it provides a stable platform for condiment deployment.

I tend take an engineers view on sandwich construction. Probably because my undergrad/grad roommate was an ME guy. And handy with a grill.

But I digress, I’m quite happy right now. I want to get back out of Ohio like no other, (why did I ever come back here again?) and I really really want to tie my shoes again but other than that life is quite good. I do like to explore some serious concepts here, but a large percentage of the time I’ve already worked through it by the time I finish a post. Sometimes I don’t even post them, unless it’s something I think might help someone else or provoke some discussion. I just delete them after I’m done because the act of writing it down solved whatever it was that I was dealing with and I no longer have a need to share it. For example there is a post sitting in my upload cue dated February twenty-eighth.

As for the concept I brought up in my last post, I’ll get to that after I’ve gotten some sleep. I will say this though, right at this exact moment my heart sleeps under a starlit sky, the beat of a desert night keeping its rhythm.

Quest-ions v2

A conclusion has been drawn and redrawn among the people that know best, and that conclusion is that I do not feel feelings.

This is more or less true at most times. For a large part of my life I had thought that feelings were a weakness (how very Sith of me, I know) but I’ve been learning, and relearning that there is a peculiar strength that lies in that weakness. Perhaps even intrinsically tied to it.

Therein lies the question.

How does being weak make one strong? This question excites the social-scientist in me. However, my socio-cultural research was almost always confined to the fringes of the societies I studied.

Deviance in all of its forms is qualitatively exciting, I always have questions for people that are considered ‘deviant’ by their culture. It is most likely a function of the ‘why?’ part of my personality.

At any rate, I am digressing and talking about myself instead of the question. I thought about it, ruminating furiously. I decided that this particular question is one of pure conjecture, perfectly subjective.

There exists no paradigm for testing it. Therefore it can be explored only with opinion…ugh philosophy…sure philosophy sounds good on paper but really? How useful is a philosopher in any crisis? Unless that crisis involves a poorly deduced fallacy or a badly designed Venn diagram…not much. Again, I digress.

So really, how does being weak lead to strength?

That’s not a rhetorical question. Input pleeeeeeease and thankya.

And I’ll tell you, in a post not-yet-as-written, what I’ve come up with.

Призрак

Призрак means ‘ghost’ in Russian. Pronounced: prizrak

Sometimes I feel like one. Especially as I have truly begun to be able to let those little stressors, and the big ones, go. The ability to consciously choose what matters and what does not, to let what does not just slide by without feeling it.

Ghosting through my life, like a wraith; invisible thoughts that never cross my face.

Sometimes you just have be, without thought or reason.

I constantly remind myself that we have such a brief time in this place, too brief to dance to someone else’s beat. There will come a time in everyones lives that they will just have to say: f*ck it.

Be yourself, smile, be as happy as you can because who knows if you’ll ever come this way again.

Life is awesome today. And it will be everyday, even when it isn’t.

Chew on that for a while.

Slip

I’ve got my hand on the rail, holding on so hard my fingers are cramping, my grip – so seemingly sure – begins to slip.