I'm going to attempt to be a little general here, so as not to offend those to whom I refer, although said individuals will most likely never read this blog. That being said, I'm going to try and make my point.
I've had the distinct experience of dealing with people for quite some time. Sometimes I wonder why I bother to interact in the fashion to which I have become accustomed. I am...gentle, with people. I coddle them, offering them half truths because The honest perception I observe is not the one they wish to hear. They would maintain an intimate understanding of a world about as deep as their thumbnail. Yet these people often think of themselves as honest souls, seeing things clearly. I don't pretend to see things any more clearly, yet often I see their things more clearly than they see for themselves. We cloud our own understandings, to obscure the harsh revelations which we find uncomfortable.
I'm reasonably patient. I have a tether, as does any other, and I consider mine well set, yet some days I just can't take the feel of the collar any longer, and I take it off for a moment, and speak my mind. I'm usually not cruel, but I'm always honest. Sometime to the point of uncomfortable accuracy. At these times I am capable of remarkable intuitive accuracy. People get offended when you hit too close to the mark. So, I stop shooting.
I guess the moral of the story here is, for those of you who know me, the vast majority of the time I am being honest, but I'm also full of shit. Its for your benefit. You wouldn't be able to stand me if I wasn't this way. For this reason I don't mind when the things I say get twisted, because most of them were twisted from the start. Feel free to ask me my opinion, but you won't always get the honest one. You'll always get the one I think you ought to hear. That's nothing new. I just hope I limit that intuitive examination to people I don't like, the the number of people who don't like me may increase in value. That's not a good thing.
I hope you didn't take this too seriously. I'm tired, and basically, I'm full of shit. Happy hunting, whatever that means.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I blame society, and Leo
There's this funny story. If you know it then I'm sure you appreciate the humor. If not, don't worry about it. Hopefully it won't need to be told again.
I have made another decision which may or may not reflect itself on my day to day life. If I think something is funny I will laugh. If I'm happy about something I'll show it. I think the calm reserve thing is only doing so much for me. Then again, its all I got. That's it. Lets try not to resolve anything here.
I have made another decision which may or may not reflect itself on my day to day life. If I think something is funny I will laugh. If I'm happy about something I'll show it. I think the calm reserve thing is only doing so much for me. Then again, its all I got. That's it. Lets try not to resolve anything here.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The square root of 576
I've got some decisions to make, re: situational existence. I feel as though things have to change soon. They've been stagnant for far too long. And things have come up which make me question the current rut find myself in. Normally I'm in support of rutting. A good rut can do wonderful things for anybody. Its that pleasant little groove which is consistent in depth and breadth so as to comfort us in the regularity of its presence. Ruts are also hard to break out of. Not always a bad thing. If the rut you're in is sufficiently comforting it allows you to focus your attention on other things. I think this rut has pretty much run its course, however, and I am left unsatisfied.
I would like something. A good solid catalyst. A swift kick to flip me over and tumble me into something I neither expected nor would have found on my own. Ironically, there are two slaps waiting for me at the end of 24 hours. It was a fair bet, though I was foolish to make it. I have wondered and considered that perhaps my foolishness was a result of a comfort. For only in such a context would I have been so adamant on the wager. No matter, that is to be settled and there is no element of said transaction that need be altered. The matter which creases my brow is again that which I have expressed hope might be soon changed. To do so a vested interest must be taken. Until now, I realize, I have been taking my ease, expecting to jump out of the set pattern of my life via the concerted actions of fate and some elusive specter of whom I know not. I suppose I have been waiting. I know who it is I have been waiting for. I realized the wisdom which prevented me from making a choice this morning, giving advice to a friend. I commented on the nature of relationships, and how the reason why I was still content to wait was because under no circumstances would I have not had to wait. The person I've been waiting for would have had to be someone other than themselves in order to end my waiting and bring about a change in my life. I'm not sure it would have worked anyways. I haven't decided if I'm actually good for anyone. I suppose I would have to go ahead and see, but I am cautious by nature. I try to plan things, and be prepared before I enter them. I have heard it said that the times in your life you learn the most about yourself are when you are forced to meet a challenge without being ready. I'm almost always ready. I don't react well to surprise. I'm getting better, I promise.
It's obvious, at this point, that I'm having trouble organizing my thoughts, and really I'm just thinking out loud here. It's a way of expounding the troubling depths of my muddled understanding. Before entering, please don boots. Unfortunate, is it not, that the warning comes halfway, rather than before the path begins. That's how it goes.
Well I don't know if I've resolved anything, other than that I wanted to knock myself out of my usual pattern and into a more explosive experience, the resultant of which would invariably be change. I' m not going to do that. Not on my own. Maybe I'll keep waiting. Gosh, I hope there's a moral to this story. That's right, everything will become clear in the end. Damn book is upside down...
I would like something. A good solid catalyst. A swift kick to flip me over and tumble me into something I neither expected nor would have found on my own. Ironically, there are two slaps waiting for me at the end of 24 hours. It was a fair bet, though I was foolish to make it. I have wondered and considered that perhaps my foolishness was a result of a comfort. For only in such a context would I have been so adamant on the wager. No matter, that is to be settled and there is no element of said transaction that need be altered. The matter which creases my brow is again that which I have expressed hope might be soon changed. To do so a vested interest must be taken. Until now, I realize, I have been taking my ease, expecting to jump out of the set pattern of my life via the concerted actions of fate and some elusive specter of whom I know not. I suppose I have been waiting. I know who it is I have been waiting for. I realized the wisdom which prevented me from making a choice this morning, giving advice to a friend. I commented on the nature of relationships, and how the reason why I was still content to wait was because under no circumstances would I have not had to wait. The person I've been waiting for would have had to be someone other than themselves in order to end my waiting and bring about a change in my life. I'm not sure it would have worked anyways. I haven't decided if I'm actually good for anyone. I suppose I would have to go ahead and see, but I am cautious by nature. I try to plan things, and be prepared before I enter them. I have heard it said that the times in your life you learn the most about yourself are when you are forced to meet a challenge without being ready. I'm almost always ready. I don't react well to surprise. I'm getting better, I promise.
It's obvious, at this point, that I'm having trouble organizing my thoughts, and really I'm just thinking out loud here. It's a way of expounding the troubling depths of my muddled understanding. Before entering, please don boots. Unfortunate, is it not, that the warning comes halfway, rather than before the path begins. That's how it goes.
Well I don't know if I've resolved anything, other than that I wanted to knock myself out of my usual pattern and into a more explosive experience, the resultant of which would invariably be change. I' m not going to do that. Not on my own. Maybe I'll keep waiting. Gosh, I hope there's a moral to this story. That's right, everything will become clear in the end. Damn book is upside down...
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Rhetorical Five
I find it humorous, and a little humbling, reading the things my friends have written. Knowing them, I know where they're coming from. I'm sure it's the same if they read what I've written. I know their antics, their turns of phrase and the ways they have of getting their points across. Some non-confrontational, but with a soft kick now and then , just to see what can be done incident free. Another more aggressive, seemingly offensive but in truth direct and critically helpful, in a way generous. You may not agree with these short lines I've given to name you, but in my way I think you know I think I'm right.
I count on you to knock me down when I'm standing too tall. You know I can take it. You keep me from having complete privacy, and so I suppose thanks is in order. I've always tried to be generous; giving what I have if I don't need it and someone else does. I guess it's just nice to know these things are appreciated, and reciprocated, in one form or another. This isn't a direct notice, and should illicit no response. It's just a 'keep doin' what you're doin' ' to the Bros.
I count on you to knock me down when I'm standing too tall. You know I can take it. You keep me from having complete privacy, and so I suppose thanks is in order. I've always tried to be generous; giving what I have if I don't need it and someone else does. I guess it's just nice to know these things are appreciated, and reciprocated, in one form or another. This isn't a direct notice, and should illicit no response. It's just a 'keep doin' what you're doin' ' to the Bros.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
An attempt at completion
Hey Joe, good to hear from you buddy. Hows the new year treatin' you? Fair enough.
You know, they used to say that each year had its own life. Anthropomorphically. Every January 1st a new baby is born, and over the course of the year it ages. By December 31st, that babe is ready to let the world move along without them. It adds a touch of the mystic to think of the year we experience in our lives, so fleeting, as being the entire span of life for a man or a woman. It calls to mind the contentment we experience in our lives. I've heard a couple of fifty year old women discussing how satisfied they are with life, and how if it ended today they wouldn't complain, supposing they were still in a state to do so. So, If it takes fifty-odd years for a woman to come to terms with her life and be happy, could this infant, born to live but one year, find peace within itself? I like to think so. I like to think of old man 2008 slipping away into the night with a half smile and a sparkle in his eye. I think in my mind this yearly babe reminds me of the ideas we already hold. In winter the babe is born, in the spring she blossoms into the healthy pink of life and newness, in the summer and fall she experiences the majesty of the world, and finally in the end of the year knows understanding. Consider, what could we learn if we simply took a year and did nothing but attempt to enjoy the quiet complexity with irreverent awe in a way which does not expect a clinical understanding, but the living thing's communion? To experience life, without burden of contribution, but with necessity of contemplation. How much would we learn? Unfortunately, we cannot all know this year. Hopefully over our lives we can find 365 days to take the time and enjoy our existence. It can be hard to do so. Time constraints or personal difficulty burden us. But there's no rush. There is time. After all, there's a three day old babe crying somewhere with no idea what is coming. But she's got 362 days to figure it out.
I know, Joe, I ramble, but stick with me. There's something else I want to tell you today.
When I was at home, spending a quiet new years with a few old friends, my good friend Andrew taught me something that I'd like to share. It surprised me. We were looking through the movies in my basement, and he spotted an old rubik's cube. He solved it, within a couple minutes. He explained to me how he did it. That cube had lain unsolved for at least twenty years. Twisted and confused. He came along, and he understood how it should be, how it was meant to look, and so he fixed it. I can't help but wonder if there is someone out there who could do that for me. For any of us. Solve us, from these half completed states. When I was younger I saw my brother start taking stickers off the cube, so that he could just fix it to look right. Now I realize how unfortunate that would have been. Not only the shallow depth of the thinking involved - the temporary band-aid solution - but the tragedy of a twisted and contorted inside that will never be solved, because from the outside it looks just fine.
In the spirit of the new year, with the new babe still crying, I'd like to think that we all have a little solving to do. We don't need to tell ourselves to do it. I figure, once we understand, it's going to happen one way or another. There's time. We'll be fine.
That's it. So long.
You know, they used to say that each year had its own life. Anthropomorphically. Every January 1st a new baby is born, and over the course of the year it ages. By December 31st, that babe is ready to let the world move along without them. It adds a touch of the mystic to think of the year we experience in our lives, so fleeting, as being the entire span of life for a man or a woman. It calls to mind the contentment we experience in our lives. I've heard a couple of fifty year old women discussing how satisfied they are with life, and how if it ended today they wouldn't complain, supposing they were still in a state to do so. So, If it takes fifty-odd years for a woman to come to terms with her life and be happy, could this infant, born to live but one year, find peace within itself? I like to think so. I like to think of old man 2008 slipping away into the night with a half smile and a sparkle in his eye. I think in my mind this yearly babe reminds me of the ideas we already hold. In winter the babe is born, in the spring she blossoms into the healthy pink of life and newness, in the summer and fall she experiences the majesty of the world, and finally in the end of the year knows understanding. Consider, what could we learn if we simply took a year and did nothing but attempt to enjoy the quiet complexity with irreverent awe in a way which does not expect a clinical understanding, but the living thing's communion? To experience life, without burden of contribution, but with necessity of contemplation. How much would we learn? Unfortunately, we cannot all know this year. Hopefully over our lives we can find 365 days to take the time and enjoy our existence. It can be hard to do so. Time constraints or personal difficulty burden us. But there's no rush. There is time. After all, there's a three day old babe crying somewhere with no idea what is coming. But she's got 362 days to figure it out.
I know, Joe, I ramble, but stick with me. There's something else I want to tell you today.
When I was at home, spending a quiet new years with a few old friends, my good friend Andrew taught me something that I'd like to share. It surprised me. We were looking through the movies in my basement, and he spotted an old rubik's cube. He solved it, within a couple minutes. He explained to me how he did it. That cube had lain unsolved for at least twenty years. Twisted and confused. He came along, and he understood how it should be, how it was meant to look, and so he fixed it. I can't help but wonder if there is someone out there who could do that for me. For any of us. Solve us, from these half completed states. When I was younger I saw my brother start taking stickers off the cube, so that he could just fix it to look right. Now I realize how unfortunate that would have been. Not only the shallow depth of the thinking involved - the temporary band-aid solution - but the tragedy of a twisted and contorted inside that will never be solved, because from the outside it looks just fine.
In the spirit of the new year, with the new babe still crying, I'd like to think that we all have a little solving to do. We don't need to tell ourselves to do it. I figure, once we understand, it's going to happen one way or another. There's time. We'll be fine.
That's it. So long.
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