Archive for the ‘ Life ’ Category

Dictionary Dreamer

I love the word “transmutation”.

I think because I love the idea that you can change something into something else. Like changing a bad mood into a good one, or a sense of melancholy hopelessness into a joie de vivre that authors impress upon on our characters but seem to seldom find in our personal lives.

I am a seeker. I am a dreamer. I am a writer.

I am all of these things which make me uniquely (not so in a sense and yet very so in others) suited to cataloguing the human condition; this human experience that can be so very ordinary in it’s extraordinariness and vice-versa.

I find that some of my most contented moments are when I am crafting an amalgamate of real emotional discourse and imaginary characters. Characters that, were I not quite so impressed with my ability to put words together, would not exist.

I tell some of my own story every time my fingers hit the keyboard on my laptop; every time some joy or pain bleeds off of the page it is because it has flowed through me into my stories.

My story becomes my stories becomes my (his)tory.

20110601-090739.jpg

I know that I have been given gifts, tremendous gifts. All of my talents and intelligence are a privilege, a gift. And they are a privilege that I am genuinely honored to have.

I feel that I have a responsibility to use them; there’s a quote, I’m not certain of the exact words so I’ll paraphrase:

“Your talents are your gift from God, what you do with your talents are your gift to God.”

Simplicities

I’ve been thinking. I know, I know; why would I ruin a perfectly good afternoon with that?

Well, I did it anyway and honestly it’s not a new thought I had. In point of fact, it’s not even particularly original.

But what it is is something that I find very much striking for it’s simultaneous complexity and simplicity.

We all know how much I love paradox:

In your life you meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you, then you meet one person, and your life is forever changed.

It’s worth thinking about, no?

Oddities

Something tells me that this week is going to be odd.

I’ve got too many ideas. Sounds like whining doesn’t it? It’s hard to keep them all straight sometimes. I need to take a day, turn my phone off and just write.

Hmmm, and run. Which would require that I turn my phone on, since it’s my iPod. And one of my platforms for writing. And of course my link to the world.

A quandary. I enjoy puzzles.

I feel strangely guarded today, I’m not certain how I feel about that though. For a very long time, I had gotten so used to having these unbreachable, insanely thick walls, that I didn’t even notice that they were there anymore. When I’d finally torn them down and looked out into the sunny fields around my fortress:

I could finally breathe.

Now when I look out, I feel like there’s sun sparkling on a moat that constructed itself while I slept and I don’t know why and while it’s certainly pretty, it’s no longer necessary and I wonder why it is here.

I rather enjoy allegory.

Memor(ial)y

Today is Memorial Day. And today I feel somewhat obligated to write about the people who have fought and in some cases died for us.

When I think about what memorial day is supposed to mean, I think of friends that I have lost, friends who have sacrificed so much. I find the posturing of the media, politicians and others rather insulting. Yes, these men and women sacrificed their lives for an ideal, for what was best for the world. They also sacrificed themselves for things much more immediate and often times much more mundane.

Friends, family, an education. The guy next to you- there are many things more common than ideals that the men and women of our armed forces die for. As one of my friends says: ‘it’s a job, I get paid to do this.’

Today I don’t really want to think about the reasons we lose friends, family, countrymen; fellow human beings with hopes and dreams to wars that many times make no sense.

Today, I’m just going to say a vague thank you and to all of those that I have lost personally: I miss you, I always will.

Free

I’ve been running again, slowly and trying not to push myself too hard, but running nonetheless.

It’s crazy how much I’ve missed it (it’s literally only been like 10-14 days) and how much something so simple can improve your outlook.

Of course, my outlook has been improved by more than my being able/allowed to run.

And there is not much that could ruin my mood today.

I have been happier, more myself, freer and more content these past weeks than I can ever remember being.

Omnia causa fiunt.

Moments

I find myself making plans.

I feel warmth, where once there was an inky blackness, frost-covered and bleak, there is now light and life flowing outward.

I find myself smiling.

Why you ask?

Sometimes, when I’m not thinking about my own selfish need to write; my desire to get the noise in my head out onto paper, I think about reasons to write:

“…they were just words, but they inspired me to stand up when all I wanted to do was lie down.”

Nelson Mandela

It doesn’t get much clearer than that.

Omnia Vincit Amor

Bore, boring, bored

I think that if I were reading my blog I’d be bored. It’s all very important to me, it’s all very much interesting to me; I’m just not sure how interesting it is to anyone else that may happen to read it.

Speaking of people reading my blog, my page views have sky-rocketed lately and honestly, not too many people (that i know, or know of, in the ‘real’ world) actually know about said blog.

Strange wot?

So if you’re reading this, do me a solid and leave me a comment: I’m curious and I’d appreciate it.

And right back in we go:

Maybe I am kind of boring these days, but I am very much happy, healthy and hale.

In other news I ran 1.62 miles today, slowly, with walk breaks. But I got to run and it was absolutely glorious.

I solemnly swear to never try to push through an injury like that again. The last two weeks were so incredibly frustrating (with regard to running) that I never want to repeat that again.

I need to write this idea for a book/movie/game down. It’s basic right now but I really think it’s got potential.

I may add to this later, but for now I’m good on typing.

PS: I ❤ my iPhone.

Nosce Te Ipsum

(in)coherenc(i)e(s)

I’m not sleeping again.

Sometimes my subconscious refuses to let me in on what it’s doing. My only clues come from my dreams, or like now my complete inability to get any restful sleep.

Except those few nights when the world doesn’t matter, when nothing outside that circle that demarcates the border of us and everything else exists.

Those nights are absolute perfection.

Tonight, I stare at my ceiling fan during long, annoying commercial breaks as I spend my late night watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall for perhaps the second or third time.

I got about fifteen minutes of sleep earlier, and i found to my surprise that this recurring dream that I used to have has come back. I hadn’t had this dream in a very long time. It’s become somewhat updated, slightly modified during it’s time away. I rather enjoyed it, sort of like a visit from an old friend.

I have so many ideas: books, stories, poems, novellas, plays, screenplays, sit-com scripts, plots for world domination (I’ve even got an awesome script for a video game half-written in my mind). I sometimes have a very difficult time keeping them straight; they bounce around, bound around; shaking the cobwebs loose, stirring up dust: in short they sometimes make a mess of my mind.

I wish I could explain it more coherently. But I suppose that will just have to do for now.

I Can Has Run?

Not being able to run is driving me insane. Just throwing that out there.

I understand the concept of rest and healing, I really do.

That said my lunarglides are staring at me forlornly, as though I’ve left them to go on some sort of immensely slackified vacation. If they could talk I am certain that the recriminations would be absolutely Hobbesian. My knee-high Nike compression socks, the socks that scream ‘I like to run!’ or ‘I get really cold, even in summer!’ are also muttering under their breath-much like my grandfather does whenever the topic of today’s youth comes up.

Okay, so maybe it’s not as dramatic as all that but it absolutely feels like it.

I refuse to step on the scale. Yeah, yeah, yeah-very girly I know.

Still not gonna happen.

I can only do so many other exercises before I just want to run. I went for a walk yesterday, it was everything I could do not to break into a jog. Ya know, just an easy canter, a lope even.

Then a full out sprint. Running with the wind blowing my hair back, while the music plays and angels sing…

I don’t have that much trouble in the ice cream isle at the grocery. I have no trouble walking past the junk food isles but forcing myself to rest long enough not to re-injure myself: hellish.

Ahhhhhhh!