Well it turns out I had a lot more to say than I had thought. The MySpace blog has been very active. So, anyone who stumbles across this blog and finds it intriguing enough to pursue further, go HERE.
Peace.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
Blog Closure
I looked at the amount of entries I write on this blog each month and I was shocked. This month was the first time since I started this blog that the number of posts was in the single digits. I made six posts in March. So today I am closing this blog. I just realize I don't have a lot to say anymore. Writing this blog on a somewhat consistent schedule has become a task. It was started as a pleasurable thing, but it has turned into something almost tiring. So I close it today with many thanks and much gratitude to the people who have read this and have given me your comments... You have made the 19 months of this blog worth it.
I'm now going to just write my blogs on my MySpace page (found here: www.myspace.com/matthewdavidward). The majority of them will probably be short and somewhat vague. Like I said, I don't have a lot to say anymore -- everything has already been said. So scroll back through the 300+ posts of this blog if you need to know.
Peace.
I'm now going to just write my blogs on my MySpace page (found here: www.myspace.com/matthewdavidward). The majority of them will probably be short and somewhat vague. Like I said, I don't have a lot to say anymore -- everything has already been said. So scroll back through the 300+ posts of this blog if you need to know.
Peace.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Rain, Rain
It's pouring the rain outside right now. I have both windows in the computer room open, Annie is asleep on the floor and the cat is in the window waiting for our new bird neighbor (pic on my MySpace) to return home. I love listening to the rain hitting the pavement and drumming on the roof. Very soothing.
A lot is going on in my world right now, but, for once, I don't feel like discussing it. Gasp! I'm not sure what happened, but at some point I got tired of being so vocal about everything. I guess it's a "pick your battles" sort of mentality. I have tried so hard to prove myself and now I'm done. What more do I have to prove? Eh. Whatever.
Still cleaning. Sigh. So frustrating when all the crap just keeps piling up as I try to get rid of it. It will be gone soon. That's what I keep telling myself anyway.
Watched the movie Barton Fink recently. Liked it. I actually only liked the parts with John Goodman. When he was not on screen it seemed so dull and boring. He definitely stole the show. Oh, and the man who played the Hollywood producer (got an Oscar nod for that, too, btw), can't think of his name right now. Very familiar face. In lots of things. Getting ready to watch a documentary about Aileen Wuornos. I've heard good things about it (and bad) so I'm kinda looking forward to it (I tend to like the things most people don't).
Finished reading Raising Atlantis by Thomas Greanias. I liked it, too. It kept me turning the page. I love it when I finish a book in 3 or 4 days. It so rarely happens, what with my serious lack of attention.
Well, the rain has stopped and so shall the blog for today.
Peace.
A lot is going on in my world right now, but, for once, I don't feel like discussing it. Gasp! I'm not sure what happened, but at some point I got tired of being so vocal about everything. I guess it's a "pick your battles" sort of mentality. I have tried so hard to prove myself and now I'm done. What more do I have to prove? Eh. Whatever.
Still cleaning. Sigh. So frustrating when all the crap just keeps piling up as I try to get rid of it. It will be gone soon. That's what I keep telling myself anyway.
Watched the movie Barton Fink recently. Liked it. I actually only liked the parts with John Goodman. When he was not on screen it seemed so dull and boring. He definitely stole the show. Oh, and the man who played the Hollywood producer (got an Oscar nod for that, too, btw), can't think of his name right now. Very familiar face. In lots of things. Getting ready to watch a documentary about Aileen Wuornos. I've heard good things about it (and bad) so I'm kinda looking forward to it (I tend to like the things most people don't).
Finished reading Raising Atlantis by Thomas Greanias. I liked it, too. It kept me turning the page. I love it when I finish a book in 3 or 4 days. It so rarely happens, what with my serious lack of attention.
Well, the rain has stopped and so shall the blog for today.
Peace.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Job Application, Messy Apartment and Hair Change
I applied for a job today, but I have to take a civil service exam. I suppose this is a good thing since it will help me later on. I just wish I didn't have to take a test to get a job. But, I guess it's better than ending up working at McDonald's or something. (No offense meant to McDonald's employees... I have nothing against you. But I do wish you'd get my order right once.)
This apartment. Sigh. I don't know what to do about it. I want to clean it and I do try, but then it's messy all over again. Right away. I'm determined to throw something out every single day. I have collected so much stuff I really don't need... For some reason I hang on to it all. I'll end up as one of those people on the talk shows with newspapers from 1965 stacked to the ceiling in their bedroom. It's not that bad, really, but it's just cluttered and that's really weighing on my nerves.
I'm going to get my haircut today. I'm nervous because it seems they always want to cut it really short and I don't want it short. I'm trying to grow it out as long as I can stand it. I'm also considering highlights. I'm trying desperately to change my physical appearance (weight, skin, teeth, hair, clothes) since I can't change my inner self or affect my physical surroundings. One thing at a time. I have always lived by the idea that I have to be "quiet" and not bother anyone. I mean, even now, when I pull up to a red light, I turn down my radio so I don't disturb nearby cars. It's built-in to me to not bother people. So I'm trying to break that. It's amazingly hard not to touch the volume knob when the car stops. Strange what we program ourselves to think and do, huh?
This apartment. Sigh. I don't know what to do about it. I want to clean it and I do try, but then it's messy all over again. Right away. I'm determined to throw something out every single day. I have collected so much stuff I really don't need... For some reason I hang on to it all. I'll end up as one of those people on the talk shows with newspapers from 1965 stacked to the ceiling in their bedroom. It's not that bad, really, but it's just cluttered and that's really weighing on my nerves.
I'm going to get my haircut today. I'm nervous because it seems they always want to cut it really short and I don't want it short. I'm trying to grow it out as long as I can stand it. I'm also considering highlights. I'm trying desperately to change my physical appearance (weight, skin, teeth, hair, clothes) since I can't change my inner self or affect my physical surroundings. One thing at a time. I have always lived by the idea that I have to be "quiet" and not bother anyone. I mean, even now, when I pull up to a red light, I turn down my radio so I don't disturb nearby cars. It's built-in to me to not bother people. So I'm trying to break that. It's amazingly hard not to touch the volume knob when the car stops. Strange what we program ourselves to think and do, huh?
Monday, March 19, 2007
An Unreal World
I was walking Annie a few nights ago when suddenly everything felt very artificial. I looked over at a car in the parking lot and it looked like a toy. The tree beside me looked fake. The closer everything was the less real it looked. I looked at the sky (and not for the first time) felt as if it were really a ceiling. It was like there was some dome overhead and we were all confined. Sort of like some sick science experiment. My mind wandered to what would be controlling this "experiment" then it drifted off.
It's strange when you realize you have lied to yourself. It's extra strange when you realize you did it so well you thoroughly believed the lie.
I began to think about the causes of mental illness. It is not a psychological issue, it's a biological issue. So, logically, this changes how it should be dealt with. I'm reading An Unquiet Mind by Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison and I recommend it to anyone who wants to know more about, or help understand, mental illness.
It's strange when you realize you have lied to yourself. It's extra strange when you realize you did it so well you thoroughly believed the lie.
I began to think about the causes of mental illness. It is not a psychological issue, it's a biological issue. So, logically, this changes how it should be dealt with. I'm reading An Unquiet Mind by Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison and I recommend it to anyone who wants to know more about, or help understand, mental illness.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
UPS Yours
Yesterday I got a call from UPS saying a package would be delivered today. This is the first time they have called me to let me know a package would be arriving on a certain day and I'm very happy about it. Usually they come and go and I never see the package. (I have been having a hard time with UPS because they refuse to knock very hard and the door to my apartment is thick.) The only downside to this is they said "the exact time cannot be guaranteed" but it would be "sometime between 8 a.m. and 7 p.m." Okay, well, thanks for narrowing that down for me so I won't be "inconvenienced" (God forbid!). It's only an 11 hour period we're talking about... How could it possibly cause a problem? UPS must really believe people have nothing better to do than spend 11 hours at their homes waiting. In truth, I don't have anything better to do today than sit here and wait, but it's rude of them to assume so.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
23 Years of Garbage
Everything is going well right now. I'm feeling pretty good and a large reason for that is the weather. I can open the door to the balcony, and the windows, and just let the birds chirp and feel the breeze coming through. It's a good feeling and it really lifts my spirits.
I've been spending the past week trying to "break the chains" that have bound me for my entire life. It's hard to explain what these chains are, because they stretch all the way back to the day I was born. I've never truly been free because these chains have altered the way I live my everyday life. There are things I can't do that other people take for granted. Anyway, I've been attempting to break these chains. It's a difficult process, because I am trying to undo 23 years worth of garbage.
Things are changing, for the better. It's a nice day and I'm feeling good. A good book, a brief March rain, and a sleeping dog and cat -- how does it get better?
I've been spending the past week trying to "break the chains" that have bound me for my entire life. It's hard to explain what these chains are, because they stretch all the way back to the day I was born. I've never truly been free because these chains have altered the way I live my everyday life. There are things I can't do that other people take for granted. Anyway, I've been attempting to break these chains. It's a difficult process, because I am trying to undo 23 years worth of garbage.
Things are changing, for the better. It's a nice day and I'm feeling good. A good book, a brief March rain, and a sleeping dog and cat -- how does it get better?
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Find Me
I must get out of town, if only for a day. I'm hoping to head toward Pigeon Forge tomorrow, if it's not too cold and if, of course, I feel like it. I think I have just taken in too many outside feelings. I don't know how to explain what that sentence means. I guess as we live our days, we listen to people and depend on people and soon their ideas/thoughts/feelings kind of soak into us and cause us to lose who we are. I guess there are lots of ways we "lose who we are" if we don't keep a firm hold on ourselves. We become so dependant on people that we lose ourselves. So, I must get out of town. I must find myself. I'd like to go to Memphis, but I don't want to go all that way alone.
The weather is so odd. Yesterday it was warm and nice, then just before that it was storming, with tornado warnings -- and last night it was snowing! The weather is enough to drive someone crazy.
There are a lot of things I need to think about, the trick is actually thinking about it. I've been living under these chains since I started high school, nine years ago. They get heavier every year, with each new painful or traumatic experience. Somehow I've been unable to shake myself from them. They're like weeds, and their taking over the beauty of the garden.
Yes, I must get out town. I have to find myself and I seem to have exhausted all my options here.
The weather is so odd. Yesterday it was warm and nice, then just before that it was storming, with tornado warnings -- and last night it was snowing! The weather is enough to drive someone crazy.
There are a lot of things I need to think about, the trick is actually thinking about it. I've been living under these chains since I started high school, nine years ago. They get heavier every year, with each new painful or traumatic experience. Somehow I've been unable to shake myself from them. They're like weeds, and their taking over the beauty of the garden.
Yes, I must get out town. I have to find myself and I seem to have exhausted all my options here.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Casino
I went gambling yesterday. Had to go 150 miles through curvy roads and right up the Smoky Mountains and over to the other side. Now, I'm not big on heights and those roads aren't very, oh, let's say, comforting. I hate when you get up on a really high mountain and there's no guardrail. Other than those frightening moments where I was certain we were going to plunge to our deaths, it was an okay trip.
When we first got to the casino, we did the slot machines. My uncle put in $20 and the second spin he won twenty more. I stuck my twenty into the machine next to his and started playing, losing, of course. Then I look over at his and he's already up to $64 off that first twenty. In the end he came out of the casino with $70 more than he went in with. I wasn't as lucky. My gambling skills left a lot to be desired.
I enjoyed it quite a bit. The people were so friendly. Everyone was very nice and it was a great atmosphere. I'd love to go back one day to just sit and watch the people. I have to say that casinos probably have the strangest people in the world gathered in one place. What odd, odd, odd people.
Well, anyway, I'm home again. Preparing for whatever I plan to do for the rest of this week. I intend to go to the used bookstore and buy some Agatha Christie books. And I must start writing again.
When we first got to the casino, we did the slot machines. My uncle put in $20 and the second spin he won twenty more. I stuck my twenty into the machine next to his and started playing, losing, of course. Then I look over at his and he's already up to $64 off that first twenty. In the end he came out of the casino with $70 more than he went in with. I wasn't as lucky. My gambling skills left a lot to be desired.
I enjoyed it quite a bit. The people were so friendly. Everyone was very nice and it was a great atmosphere. I'd love to go back one day to just sit and watch the people. I have to say that casinos probably have the strangest people in the world gathered in one place. What odd, odd, odd people.
Well, anyway, I'm home again. Preparing for whatever I plan to do for the rest of this week. I intend to go to the used bookstore and buy some Agatha Christie books. And I must start writing again.
Friday, February 23, 2007
The Quixote Complex
I've recently watched What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte. These films have a lot in common, but the thing that really hit me personally was the situation experienced by both of the characters Bette Davis played. In each one she was a character stuck in the past. Well, more to the point, she was stuck in what could have been and what caused her dreams and bright future to crash in around her. She ended up spending many tormented decades stewing in her own misery. And, while watching these amazing films I realized this is what I'm doing. I have gotten so caught up in the bad things that have happened to me and caused my life to take a turn I didn't expect, and I gave up on trying to have a normal life. Once you allow yourself to see your life as a tragedy it seems to continue that path without end.
I remember as a child I wanted to be a movie star. Actually, I wanted to have my own television series. I was very caught up in wanting that kind of success. I was going to take Hollywood by storm, because the world hadn't seen anything like me before... I would become so respected and loved. They would fear me and adore me. I seem to recall a lot of us in school had those kind of aspirations. If it wasn't wanting to be in a movie, it was wanting to be in a band. Somehow we were all looking for fame and the attention of the public. I remember a group of us sat down one time to write a movie script that would star all of us. It was never finished and, eventually, lost. But, now, here I am... Still pursuing that dream of wanting something more while all the others have moved on into "reality" -- whatever that is.
I still long for that success. It's changed over time, though. For a while it was movies, or television, then theatre, then writing novels, then poetry, and then journalism. It seems I'm drawn to whatever puts my thoughts or energy out to the public. As everyone else that marched with me in those dreams have wandered off, I continue on. Where is Matthew Ward? He's still out there chasing those pesky windmills, striving for something he'll probably never have.
I believe dreams change with the person, and surely I've changed, but my dreams have not. I'm no closer now than I was a decade ago. I don't have the world's love or respect, fear or adoration. I am just here, burning my own spotlight in an empty auditorium. Bette Davis once said that if she hadn't made it as an actress she was prepared to be "the best damn secretary in the world." What a great way of thinking. Whatever she ended up being, she would be the best. Perhaps I should adopt this line of thinking.
I remember as a child I wanted to be a movie star. Actually, I wanted to have my own television series. I was very caught up in wanting that kind of success. I was going to take Hollywood by storm, because the world hadn't seen anything like me before... I would become so respected and loved. They would fear me and adore me. I seem to recall a lot of us in school had those kind of aspirations. If it wasn't wanting to be in a movie, it was wanting to be in a band. Somehow we were all looking for fame and the attention of the public. I remember a group of us sat down one time to write a movie script that would star all of us. It was never finished and, eventually, lost. But, now, here I am... Still pursuing that dream of wanting something more while all the others have moved on into "reality" -- whatever that is.
I still long for that success. It's changed over time, though. For a while it was movies, or television, then theatre, then writing novels, then poetry, and then journalism. It seems I'm drawn to whatever puts my thoughts or energy out to the public. As everyone else that marched with me in those dreams have wandered off, I continue on. Where is Matthew Ward? He's still out there chasing those pesky windmills, striving for something he'll probably never have.
I believe dreams change with the person, and surely I've changed, but my dreams have not. I'm no closer now than I was a decade ago. I don't have the world's love or respect, fear or adoration. I am just here, burning my own spotlight in an empty auditorium. Bette Davis once said that if she hadn't made it as an actress she was prepared to be "the best damn secretary in the world." What a great way of thinking. Whatever she ended up being, she would be the best. Perhaps I should adopt this line of thinking.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Okay... And Here We Go Again...
Lately I have been trying to deal with this new round of depression. It's awful. I swear there is no way to escape the pain. There is no way to find some peace of mind. It hurts. Deeply. And it's tearing me apart, from the outside in.
So, to explain to people why I may have been acting strangely lately... I've been doing a little self-medication thing. I've been taking sleeping pills when things get "out of hand" (when the depression gets to a point where it could mean my life). But, at the same time, I'm taking diet pills. Now, the problem here is that diet pills are filled with caffeine. So one pill is trying to put me to sleep and the other is trying to keep me awake. They're battling it out, and that didn't even occur to me until recently. Anyway, my actions lately have been based on how "out of it" I have been under the power of the sleeping pills. It's not an excuse, but it's the best I have.
I am slowly making my way out of this. The hardest part is not being able to explain to people how deep the pain is... It's hard for people to really grasp because this particular situation is one that is foreign to them. So, it's something I have to deal with (somewhat) alone.
I can't really complain, though... It's my own fault. My own bad decisions, or lack of logically looking at everything, is what landed me here. And I know people are tired of hearing it. I know this. I am trying to not discuss it to anyone anymore just to spare them. My "circle" of trust has shrunk because of this... I am realizing who I can talk about "this situation" to and who I cannot. Who is trustworthy and helpful, and who is not.
When I speak about these things... and this pain, I am reaching out. Desperately. I want help. I expect someone to help me, but they can't. I close doors, push people away. It's just what I do. It's how I'm built, how I have survived. I guess I want someone to force a hug around me. Someone to show me they care... Prove it's not a fake sentiment to get me to shut up. I don't know what I expect from people, but I know some have tried... And I appreciate that.
So, to explain to people why I may have been acting strangely lately... I've been doing a little self-medication thing. I've been taking sleeping pills when things get "out of hand" (when the depression gets to a point where it could mean my life). But, at the same time, I'm taking diet pills. Now, the problem here is that diet pills are filled with caffeine. So one pill is trying to put me to sleep and the other is trying to keep me awake. They're battling it out, and that didn't even occur to me until recently. Anyway, my actions lately have been based on how "out of it" I have been under the power of the sleeping pills. It's not an excuse, but it's the best I have.
I am slowly making my way out of this. The hardest part is not being able to explain to people how deep the pain is... It's hard for people to really grasp because this particular situation is one that is foreign to them. So, it's something I have to deal with (somewhat) alone.
I can't really complain, though... It's my own fault. My own bad decisions, or lack of logically looking at everything, is what landed me here. And I know people are tired of hearing it. I know this. I am trying to not discuss it to anyone anymore just to spare them. My "circle" of trust has shrunk because of this... I am realizing who I can talk about "this situation" to and who I cannot. Who is trustworthy and helpful, and who is not.
When I speak about these things... and this pain, I am reaching out. Desperately. I want help. I expect someone to help me, but they can't. I close doors, push people away. It's just what I do. It's how I'm built, how I have survived. I guess I want someone to force a hug around me. Someone to show me they care... Prove it's not a fake sentiment to get me to shut up. I don't know what I expect from people, but I know some have tried... And I appreciate that.
Monday, February 19, 2007
secrets, in the end
need for approval -- so strong
i have everything and nothing to prove
my life, just a menagerie of neuroses
a twisted painting, hung in a collapsing museum
a psychedelic swirling of colors
too hard to make sense of it
better left undefined
to the test of time
who am i -- i'm not quite sure
am i anybody -- you'd think i'd know by now
but to be defined by your past is a harsh punishment
we should be able to define ourselves
but it looks unlikely in the choices we get
they're not really choices, because it's all decided
free will versus fate
in the end, it ends
and we're all the same in the end
battles i've fought -- so hard and so long
i've yet to win, yet to lose -- it just continues
lesson after lesson, with no end, no beginning
to capture some peace in a world that knows only fury
is a pipe dream -- it can never be attained
but to hold the one you love -- truly love
is about as close as you can get, i figure
in the end, if this is the end, was the end, will be the end
what was gained, what was lost
will my words have made a difference
will my pain have made an impression
will my soul, my heart, my faith, leave its mark
was there a point to it all
i know the secret of life now -- it's beauty and love
they're the same, really, when it comes to that
but the trick to it all is in the mind, not the heart
you must free yourself and allow trust
allow fate to take its course
if it so chooses, fate can leave you bruised and alone
or it can lift you up to the heavens with your soul mate
it's all out of our hands anyway
in the end
so as they lay me in the ground
they can engrave my tombstone with the truth
if there is such a thing -- truth is an illusion
they can say he did it the hard way
like bette davis; 'she did it the hard way'
we do it the only way we know how
we wage our wars the best we can
without regard to the blood spilled or the lives lost
we know no more when we came into the war
than when we leave
in the end, that is the real secret, i suppose
i have everything and nothing to prove
my life, just a menagerie of neuroses
a twisted painting, hung in a collapsing museum
a psychedelic swirling of colors
too hard to make sense of it
better left undefined
to the test of time
who am i -- i'm not quite sure
am i anybody -- you'd think i'd know by now
but to be defined by your past is a harsh punishment
we should be able to define ourselves
but it looks unlikely in the choices we get
they're not really choices, because it's all decided
free will versus fate
in the end, it ends
and we're all the same in the end
battles i've fought -- so hard and so long
i've yet to win, yet to lose -- it just continues
lesson after lesson, with no end, no beginning
to capture some peace in a world that knows only fury
is a pipe dream -- it can never be attained
but to hold the one you love -- truly love
is about as close as you can get, i figure
in the end, if this is the end, was the end, will be the end
what was gained, what was lost
will my words have made a difference
will my pain have made an impression
will my soul, my heart, my faith, leave its mark
was there a point to it all
i know the secret of life now -- it's beauty and love
they're the same, really, when it comes to that
but the trick to it all is in the mind, not the heart
you must free yourself and allow trust
allow fate to take its course
if it so chooses, fate can leave you bruised and alone
or it can lift you up to the heavens with your soul mate
it's all out of our hands anyway
in the end
so as they lay me in the ground
they can engrave my tombstone with the truth
if there is such a thing -- truth is an illusion
they can say he did it the hard way
like bette davis; 'she did it the hard way'
we do it the only way we know how
we wage our wars the best we can
without regard to the blood spilled or the lives lost
we know no more when we came into the war
than when we leave
in the end, that is the real secret, i suppose
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Who Knows
I haven't posted anything of significance in a while and this probably won't be anything important either. I haven't been feeling well. This "round" of depression has been tough. It has sustained itself with one event after another. I haven't had a chance to catch my breath. And it's not over yet. If nothing else happens, I estimate this should be gone, for the most part, in a couple of days. It sure is tiring. And I'm scaring people. I really shouldn't talk (or write!) to people when I'm in this "place." But I do... Somehow I think writing about it and letting people see that side of it helps inform them. It's almost impossible to describe depression and anxiety in words, so maybe if people get to see some of the turbulence of it, they'll get an idea. And who knows... Maybe those people will be able to help someone else and it'll just keep going. You never know. Or, maybe my words will just fall to the back log of Internet space and never be read or used. Who knows. Who knows.
For the most part, everything is okay in my world. I haven't really done much the past few days, but I'm slowly trying to get out a little bit. Baby steps.
It's funny, though, really... I've been dealing with "fate" -- it seems Fate and Destiny have taken an active part in my life... They're forcing me to make decisions I normally wouldn't make. They gave me two days to rethink a situation... I really can't explain it here, but let's just say, there's more to it than coincidence. I've always said there is some system to the universe and I believe it... You can call it God, god, Allah, Destiny, Karma, or Mary Jo -- Call it whatever you please, but there is something floating in the air that moves things along...
For the most part, everything is okay in my world. I haven't really done much the past few days, but I'm slowly trying to get out a little bit. Baby steps.
It's funny, though, really... I've been dealing with "fate" -- it seems Fate and Destiny have taken an active part in my life... They're forcing me to make decisions I normally wouldn't make. They gave me two days to rethink a situation... I really can't explain it here, but let's just say, there's more to it than coincidence. I've always said there is some system to the universe and I believe it... You can call it God, god, Allah, Destiny, Karma, or Mary Jo -- Call it whatever you please, but there is something floating in the air that moves things along...
Monday, February 12, 2007
Quotes You Need to Read Part V
"The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow into our souls." - Elizabeth Cady Stanton
"If you have made mistakes, even serious ones, there is always another chance for you.What we call failure is not the falling down but the staying down." - Mary Pickford
"You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you're finished, you'll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird...So let's look at the bird and see what it's doing, that's what counts." - Richard Feynman
"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself." - Anna Quindlen
and
"Our opinions do not really blossom into fruition until we have expressed them to someone else." - Mark Twain
"If you have made mistakes, even serious ones, there is always another chance for you.What we call failure is not the falling down but the staying down." - Mary Pickford
"You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you're finished, you'll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird...So let's look at the bird and see what it's doing, that's what counts." - Richard Feynman
"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself." - Anna Quindlen
and
"Our opinions do not really blossom into fruition until we have expressed them to someone else." - Mark Twain
Thursday, February 08, 2007
ANS
I know this post is going to sound absolutely insane. That could be because I am somewhat depressed and writing this in the darkness of the moment. And it could be because I’m not even going to proofread it after I write it. I need to go to bed and get up early tomorrow for my Sociology exam.
I’m taking Anna Nicole Smith’s death hard. I’m not sure why. I’m trying to analyze it, but every thing I uncover seems to lead to another question. I know I’m very attached to celebrities. As I’ve mentioned many times, I cried more when John Ritter died than when my dad died. I don’t think this means I cared less for my father. I think when I feel personal pain, I am blank on the outside. But, when I feel some emotional pain, it comes out physically. I connected to John Ritter on an emotional level. I never really felt I knew enough about my dad to have that emotional connection. I loved him dearly and I felt the pain immensely, but it never came out in a stream of tears.
Now, as for Anna Nicole Smith -- well, there are many things that cause me to feel this depression. I haven’t cried, nor will I. (Perhaps the tears for Ritter were actually for my father and needed another outlet?) But I am hurting because of Smith’s death. Maybe it’s just the tragedy of it all? Her life was the classic Hollywood tragedy. And maybe, on some level, I can relate to this. I’ve been on a somewhat similar path to self-destruction. Sometimes our own self-destruction is hard to see since we do it in such small ways. I have been doing it -- with the games I played with anti-depressants, with the massive amounts of soft drinks and food, and now I’m doing it with the extreme dieting. What causes the self-destruction? When you look at the lives of Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe and even Anna Nicole Smith, you can pretty clearly see they died, partly, because of their success. It seems that they couldn’t emotionally handle it and needed some substance or other substitute for reality. They had everything and nothing at all. They each were deeply lonely in various ways. And this I relate to. I have everything I could want, but due to my own mistakes, and the blessing of my own life, I am lonely and spiraling.
I guess I connect to the death of Anna Nicole Smith like I connected to the death of other people recently. Like Spalding Gray. It feels personal. Like it could have just as easily been me.
I’m taking Anna Nicole Smith’s death hard. I’m not sure why. I’m trying to analyze it, but every thing I uncover seems to lead to another question. I know I’m very attached to celebrities. As I’ve mentioned many times, I cried more when John Ritter died than when my dad died. I don’t think this means I cared less for my father. I think when I feel personal pain, I am blank on the outside. But, when I feel some emotional pain, it comes out physically. I connected to John Ritter on an emotional level. I never really felt I knew enough about my dad to have that emotional connection. I loved him dearly and I felt the pain immensely, but it never came out in a stream of tears.
Now, as for Anna Nicole Smith -- well, there are many things that cause me to feel this depression. I haven’t cried, nor will I. (Perhaps the tears for Ritter were actually for my father and needed another outlet?) But I am hurting because of Smith’s death. Maybe it’s just the tragedy of it all? Her life was the classic Hollywood tragedy. And maybe, on some level, I can relate to this. I’ve been on a somewhat similar path to self-destruction. Sometimes our own self-destruction is hard to see since we do it in such small ways. I have been doing it -- with the games I played with anti-depressants, with the massive amounts of soft drinks and food, and now I’m doing it with the extreme dieting. What causes the self-destruction? When you look at the lives of Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe and even Anna Nicole Smith, you can pretty clearly see they died, partly, because of their success. It seems that they couldn’t emotionally handle it and needed some substance or other substitute for reality. They had everything and nothing at all. They each were deeply lonely in various ways. And this I relate to. I have everything I could want, but due to my own mistakes, and the blessing of my own life, I am lonely and spiraling.
I guess I connect to the death of Anna Nicole Smith like I connected to the death of other people recently. Like Spalding Gray. It feels personal. Like it could have just as easily been me.
R.I.P.
After such a beautiful and tragic life, it ends.
May you rest in peace.
Anna Nicole Smith
(1967-2007)
Lessons Earned
I seem to be forever battling the contradictions running through my mind. I never seem to know who/what I am. Maybe this is a good thing, I don’t know. I do know it is extremely tiring. I wonder, though, how people can even tolerate me at all. I know I can be difficult, to say the least. I know I can be very vocal, unreliable or just a downright pain in the ass. I know this, yet I can’t change it. I’m not sure I’d want to anymore. Maybe this is what makes me interesting. I know it has “created” me in a lot of ways. Perhaps it’s all for the best. In the end, of course. For now, I just sit amazed at how many people actually stand by me and tolerate my ways. You think it’s tough dealing with me now and then? Imagine being me. Oh, geez! To put up with me 24/7 -- Just imagine.
I want to help people. I’ve said this before, but I’m never quite sure how to go about it. Last night I was lying in bed thinking. I thought about how all the people who have inspired me have done so with their lessons, with their knowledge; the knowledge they have gained through various moments in their lives.
I began to think about my knowledge. I have knowledge, I thought. Surely I do. Then I realized I am doing all I can. I can help by continuing to inform people about mental illness. I can help by standing up for what I know is right. I can help by sharing the hard-won lessons of my life with others.
Really, I shouldn’t be here. By all logic, I should have been dead ten times over. I have survived both my mother and father’s death, a pretty serious coffee burn all down my left arm, a stolen (and stripped) car, constant abuse/torment in high school, two (official) suicide attempts, a mental hospital, a move to a different city/state where I knew two people, and being arrested. Now, together these may mean nothing, but when you add the fact that all throughout these events I suffered from the manic depression and generalized anxiety, well, let’s just say it’s a miracle I’m still standing. So, I began to realize that each day I live is a testament. It’s not arrogant to pull out these moments in my past and use them, and scream them, if it helps one person (just one) in some way. That’s what it’s really all about. I “earned” those lessons the hard way. It’s not shameful or self-absorbed to use what I have suffered through/for if it can benefit others.
And so it came full circle. Here I am desperately trying to find a way to help people, to help make my imprint on the world, and I realize I’m already working at it. I don’t know if anyone has been changed in any serious way because of anything I have said or done, but I can always hope. It’s all I have, really, these lessons and this desire to use them for something other than my own personal torment. I do hope someone reads these blog entries. I do hope there is something to be gained from them.
I want to help people. I’ve said this before, but I’m never quite sure how to go about it. Last night I was lying in bed thinking. I thought about how all the people who have inspired me have done so with their lessons, with their knowledge; the knowledge they have gained through various moments in their lives.
I began to think about my knowledge. I have knowledge, I thought. Surely I do. Then I realized I am doing all I can. I can help by continuing to inform people about mental illness. I can help by standing up for what I know is right. I can help by sharing the hard-won lessons of my life with others.
Really, I shouldn’t be here. By all logic, I should have been dead ten times over. I have survived both my mother and father’s death, a pretty serious coffee burn all down my left arm, a stolen (and stripped) car, constant abuse/torment in high school, two (official) suicide attempts, a mental hospital, a move to a different city/state where I knew two people, and being arrested. Now, together these may mean nothing, but when you add the fact that all throughout these events I suffered from the manic depression and generalized anxiety, well, let’s just say it’s a miracle I’m still standing. So, I began to realize that each day I live is a testament. It’s not arrogant to pull out these moments in my past and use them, and scream them, if it helps one person (just one) in some way. That’s what it’s really all about. I “earned” those lessons the hard way. It’s not shameful or self-absorbed to use what I have suffered through/for if it can benefit others.
And so it came full circle. Here I am desperately trying to find a way to help people, to help make my imprint on the world, and I realize I’m already working at it. I don’t know if anyone has been changed in any serious way because of anything I have said or done, but I can always hope. It’s all I have, really, these lessons and this desire to use them for something other than my own personal torment. I do hope someone reads these blog entries. I do hope there is something to be gained from them.
Quotes You Need to Read Part IV
"There is no greater joy or no greater reward than to make a fundamental difference in someone's life." - Sister Mary Rose McGeady
"Lies are not evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil." - Plato
"It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you'll do things differently." - Warren Edward Buffett
"Life is a long lesson in humility." - James Matthews Barrie
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." - Eleanor Roosevelt
"Hold onto what was individual about you, do not allow your ambition for success to cause you to try to imitate the success of others. You've got to find your own terms." - Harrison Ford
"He deserves Paradise who makes his companions laugh." - Koran
"It is too easy to make suggestions and later try to escape the consequences of what we say." - Jawaharlal Nehru
"Lies are not evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil." - Plato
"It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you'll do things differently." - Warren Edward Buffett
"Life is a long lesson in humility." - James Matthews Barrie
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." - Eleanor Roosevelt
"Hold onto what was individual about you, do not allow your ambition for success to cause you to try to imitate the success of others. You've got to find your own terms." - Harrison Ford
"He deserves Paradise who makes his companions laugh." - Koran
"It is too easy to make suggestions and later try to escape the consequences of what we say." - Jawaharlal Nehru
Monday, February 05, 2007
Better to Give...
I am constantly fighting this feeling to explain myself. I decided I wouldn't fight it any longer and I would try to express what goes on inside my head.
I have a control issue. Mostly it has to do with relationships and friendships. It's not a bad form of controlling. It's as if I let go of this "watch" on my relationships with people I will lose them. I feel that I have to respond as quickly as possible to every phone call, e-mail and message I receive. This causes me to get overwhelmed at times and I panic. I have lost a lot of people in my life for many different reasons, so I try desperately to cling to the people I have. Sometimes it comes off a lot differently than I intend it, at that point, you just have to ignore me. I'm working on learning to step away from the drama and need to be instantly available with advice or a joke all the time -- I need to learn to get alone and just relax, clear my mind and lift my soul.
I am constantly redefining who I am and trying to clarify my purpose in life. As I do this, it causes a kind of turbulent wave through my friendships. Each day of my life is a roller coaster and sometimes I get caught up in the drama and get moody. I say or do things that I regret. I spend a lot of my time apologizing (for things I should, and many times for things I shouldn't).
Sometimes I appear as if there's a harder "shell" on me. This is how I have learned to survive. I believe that everybody has the angel and devil fighting on their shoulders. They each compliment each other in some strange way.
I want to help people. I think it's important to do what you can with your life to help others, because, really, what other purpose could there be to living if not to improve the lives of others? I want to help with charities. I want to stand up for causes that are important to me. That's why I've made the decision to not accept gifts (unless it's a special circumstance). Instead, I have a list of places people can donate money to, if they choose: NAMI, Human Rights Campaign, American Cancer Society, PETA, Hospice, First Book, and Rosie's For All Kids Foundation. There will probably be more added to this list over time, but, for now, these are the most important ones to me. I'll put a list of the links permanently on the menu to the right.
It's time to give back. I've been very lucky in my life. I've never had to want for anything and it's about time I appreciate this fact and try to help others since I have the opportunity. I want to use words to inform and assist and I hope I can make a career of this some day. If it doesn't work out that way, fine, I'll find some other way to help, but I will help.
This is a very disconnected post. It doesn't flow very well at all, but it's almost 2 a.m. and I'm having a hard time really grasping what I intended to say. Maybe there is some piece of information in here that will help in your understanding of me, or help to build some respect in me (cause I think that's what we're all really looking for, anyway).
I have a control issue. Mostly it has to do with relationships and friendships. It's not a bad form of controlling. It's as if I let go of this "watch" on my relationships with people I will lose them. I feel that I have to respond as quickly as possible to every phone call, e-mail and message I receive. This causes me to get overwhelmed at times and I panic. I have lost a lot of people in my life for many different reasons, so I try desperately to cling to the people I have. Sometimes it comes off a lot differently than I intend it, at that point, you just have to ignore me. I'm working on learning to step away from the drama and need to be instantly available with advice or a joke all the time -- I need to learn to get alone and just relax, clear my mind and lift my soul.
I am constantly redefining who I am and trying to clarify my purpose in life. As I do this, it causes a kind of turbulent wave through my friendships. Each day of my life is a roller coaster and sometimes I get caught up in the drama and get moody. I say or do things that I regret. I spend a lot of my time apologizing (for things I should, and many times for things I shouldn't).
Sometimes I appear as if there's a harder "shell" on me. This is how I have learned to survive. I believe that everybody has the angel and devil fighting on their shoulders. They each compliment each other in some strange way.
I want to help people. I think it's important to do what you can with your life to help others, because, really, what other purpose could there be to living if not to improve the lives of others? I want to help with charities. I want to stand up for causes that are important to me. That's why I've made the decision to not accept gifts (unless it's a special circumstance). Instead, I have a list of places people can donate money to, if they choose: NAMI, Human Rights Campaign, American Cancer Society, PETA, Hospice, First Book, and Rosie's For All Kids Foundation. There will probably be more added to this list over time, but, for now, these are the most important ones to me. I'll put a list of the links permanently on the menu to the right.
It's time to give back. I've been very lucky in my life. I've never had to want for anything and it's about time I appreciate this fact and try to help others since I have the opportunity. I want to use words to inform and assist and I hope I can make a career of this some day. If it doesn't work out that way, fine, I'll find some other way to help, but I will help.
This is a very disconnected post. It doesn't flow very well at all, but it's almost 2 a.m. and I'm having a hard time really grasping what I intended to say. Maybe there is some piece of information in here that will help in your understanding of me, or help to build some respect in me (cause I think that's what we're all really looking for, anyway).
Saturday, February 03, 2007
You're Listening
I piss you off
Good
You’re listening
But do you hear
Or is it
Just anger
Fear
Close your eyes
I’ll take you along
In my life
In my mind
Ride the waves
Then tell me
What you feel
Live the pain
Dance around the flames
Find yourself
In the maze
Of all that has gone before
You’ve now seen it
Through my eyes
Now you have the right
To criticize
Despise
Now call me what you want
I don’t care
I’m speaking my mind
Never could before
So
Shame me
Blame me
You’re listening
Good
But do you hear
Do you hear the rage
Underneath
Beneath
The skin so raw
Scraped and tattered
By your knives
I’m still here
Not going anywhere
Good
You’re listening
But do you hear
Or is it
Just anger
Fear
Close your eyes
I’ll take you along
In my life
In my mind
Ride the waves
Then tell me
What you feel
Live the pain
Dance around the flames
Find yourself
In the maze
Of all that has gone before
You’ve now seen it
Through my eyes
Now you have the right
To criticize
Despise
Now call me what you want
I don’t care
I’m speaking my mind
Never could before
So
Shame me
Blame me
You’re listening
Good
But do you hear
Do you hear the rage
Underneath
Beneath
The skin so raw
Scraped and tattered
By your knives
I’m still here
Not going anywhere
Friday, February 02, 2007
Clip Clip Clip Clip
We darken our worlds
With the instant video clips
The instant shock
Need for revulsion
One clip, two clip, three clip
Four
Better be careful
The devil’s at the door
Brutal
Violent and shameful
Go the bathroom
Vomit
Purge yourself
Find the humanity
Within yourself
One clip, two clip, three clip
Four
There’s no hope now
The devil’s back for more
With the instant video clips
The instant shock
Need for revulsion
One clip, two clip, three clip
Four
Better be careful
The devil’s at the door
Brutal
Violent and shameful
Go the bathroom
Vomit
Purge yourself
Find the humanity
Within yourself
One clip, two clip, three clip
Four
There’s no hope now
The devil’s back for more
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Weighing In
I'm losing weight. I've been on my diet for a while now and it's going well. I can see the changes already happening. It's a wonderful feeling. I've been walking two miles a day (today was the 4th straight day of that), eating less and doing sit-ups when I have free time. I'm now at 187, which is a great achievement. I never thought I'd get past 190. I stayed at and above 190 for a couple of weeks, not losing, not really gaining. It was terrible. But, I've broken through that and am now on my way. The goal is 145, so it's going to be a long road.
I'm going to weigh myself once a week (every Thursday), because I obsess about it. I've taped up a little piece of paper above the scale to help me keep track of the numbers. I am also working out a reward system. When I get down to 180, I can have a cheeseburger. When I get to 170, I'm going to eat an Italian meal. When I hit 160, I can have a pizza. Just one of each of these things (and only that one time). Maybe when I reach my goal I can find a way to have these wonderful foods every now and then, but right now I have to make the sacrifice for the better of myself.
My friend, Pam, and I went to Cracker Barrel yesterday and I ate a salad -- and nothing more. I usually nibble fries off her daughter's plate, but I held on to my strength and didn't. The only problem I have with eating out is it costs so much (was $29 really a good price for 2 salads and a breakfast?). Oh, well. What does it matter, anyway? Tomorrow we are going to the coffee shop in town to hang out with a new friend. Should be fun.
My Sociology class is coming along quite nicely. I have finished the first three assignments and am now preparing for the test (which needs to be taken somewhere from Feb. 5 to Feb. 10). I will probably wait until the latest possible time. I am not ready for the test.
Impeach Bush. Enough said.
Peace.
I'm going to weigh myself once a week (every Thursday), because I obsess about it. I've taped up a little piece of paper above the scale to help me keep track of the numbers. I am also working out a reward system. When I get down to 180, I can have a cheeseburger. When I get to 170, I'm going to eat an Italian meal. When I hit 160, I can have a pizza. Just one of each of these things (and only that one time). Maybe when I reach my goal I can find a way to have these wonderful foods every now and then, but right now I have to make the sacrifice for the better of myself.
My friend, Pam, and I went to Cracker Barrel yesterday and I ate a salad -- and nothing more. I usually nibble fries off her daughter's plate, but I held on to my strength and didn't. The only problem I have with eating out is it costs so much (was $29 really a good price for 2 salads and a breakfast?). Oh, well. What does it matter, anyway? Tomorrow we are going to the coffee shop in town to hang out with a new friend. Should be fun.
My Sociology class is coming along quite nicely. I have finished the first three assignments and am now preparing for the test (which needs to be taken somewhere from Feb. 5 to Feb. 10). I will probably wait until the latest possible time. I am not ready for the test.
Impeach Bush. Enough said.
Peace.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Morals, Values, Integrity
I am no one to judge a person's morals, but I've been doing it more and more lately. I haven't been the most moral person in the world, but I do know the difference between what is right and wrong. I have a very strong conscience. But these people who seem to have absolutely no morals, values or integrity are truly disgusting to me. A lot of people seem to have very little that they actually care about. It makes me wonder what these people are living for. What is the purpose of their life?
There is this drive inside me to help people. I want to stand up for people. I want to fight for people. I want to make a difference. I want to be part of making a difference. If I ever had millions of dollars I would be doing the type of things that Oprah, Bill Gates, Rosie O'Donnell and several other millionaires/billionaires are doing: giving a lot of it away.
Celebrities are so obscenely overpaid it makes me sick. No one needs that much money. It's amazing, because there are people who could live their entire life, or several lives, off a single paycheck from someone like Julia Roberts, Jack Nicholson or George Clooney, just to name a few. They are part of the 20 million club. 20 million dollars for one movie. One. Sometimes not even a year's worth of work and they get a big 20 mil. Now, a lot of entertainers do donate money, which is great, but I know there are some that don't. What the hell are these people doing with that money?
It makes me wonder about these people who go out there and buy these massive homes and fancy cars and all the high tech gadgets. Even if I had that life I'd be living in a nice little house (a Victorian, I picture) with a red Jeep Cherokee in the garage. That's high living to me. Keep what you need and throw the rest at the people who need it.
I wandered off from my original point, but I guess it all ties in somehow. Anyway, I don't have high standards for people. I just think that people should have at least some firm values in their mind (know what is right, know what is wrong). It's not always only about you. We're all in it together. A quote from Thich Nhat Hahn says it best: "We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness."
There is this drive inside me to help people. I want to stand up for people. I want to fight for people. I want to make a difference. I want to be part of making a difference. If I ever had millions of dollars I would be doing the type of things that Oprah, Bill Gates, Rosie O'Donnell and several other millionaires/billionaires are doing: giving a lot of it away.
Celebrities are so obscenely overpaid it makes me sick. No one needs that much money. It's amazing, because there are people who could live their entire life, or several lives, off a single paycheck from someone like Julia Roberts, Jack Nicholson or George Clooney, just to name a few. They are part of the 20 million club. 20 million dollars for one movie. One. Sometimes not even a year's worth of work and they get a big 20 mil. Now, a lot of entertainers do donate money, which is great, but I know there are some that don't. What the hell are these people doing with that money?
It makes me wonder about these people who go out there and buy these massive homes and fancy cars and all the high tech gadgets. Even if I had that life I'd be living in a nice little house (a Victorian, I picture) with a red Jeep Cherokee in the garage. That's high living to me. Keep what you need and throw the rest at the people who need it.
I wandered off from my original point, but I guess it all ties in somehow. Anyway, I don't have high standards for people. I just think that people should have at least some firm values in their mind (know what is right, know what is wrong). It's not always only about you. We're all in it together. A quote from Thich Nhat Hahn says it best: "We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness."
Sunday, January 28, 2007
New Poem: Distance
Distance between us
Miles and
An emotional stretch
A long road ahead
And each day brings us closer
To the end
To the beginning
Same
Frightening possibilities
Denial?
Or, a happy life?
We are the world's best
At altering reality
To fit our needs
Our desires
If we say it
Doesn't it become true?
The agony of it all
Same old story
Burning my soul
Aching my heart
Needs
Desires
Crimes
Accusations
Allegations
People stare
Whispers
For love
I will withstand
But will we be winners
Or will I be the fool
Who stayed too long
At the celebration
Blinded by the fireworks
Miles and
An emotional stretch
A long road ahead
And each day brings us closer
To the end
To the beginning
Same
Frightening possibilities
Denial?
Or, a happy life?
We are the world's best
At altering reality
To fit our needs
Our desires
If we say it
Doesn't it become true?
The agony of it all
Same old story
Burning my soul
Aching my heart
Needs
Desires
Crimes
Accusations
Allegations
People stare
Whispers
For love
I will withstand
But will we be winners
Or will I be the fool
Who stayed too long
At the celebration
Blinded by the fireworks
Interpretation
Interpretation is funny. We all see things in different ways. I have never liked to explain my writing. I don't like to analyze it, I don't like to discuss it. I think the sign of a real good piece of writing is it lends itself to various interpretations. A writing that can be used in different ways for different people is magic. Like music. A song can mean one thing to one person and a total opposite thing to another. That's a good song. It can evoke different emotions in different people. Something that doesn't just sit there and mean nothing to the reader/listener. Meaning is important. But, with the power of interpretation, we can misread things. Or, more to the point, read more into it than is actually there.
I'm rambling. My point is I don't usually like to explain my writing. However, due to some misunderstandings, I feel the need to clarify the subject of a couple of my more recent poems ("I Could" and "Falsehood"). These poems were written with King George Bush in mind. They were intended to express my distaste for his "presidency" -- Nothing more. It was not about anyone in my life. I do not write negative poems about people in my life. Sometimes I write poems for friends, but, rarely, about them.
This does, however, make me wonder what people must be thinking of me. A friend pointed out that the poems could have been about her. I can completely understand where she got that from, but she was wrong. I wonder if people think I'm just out there "trash talking" -- I'm the "trash talker" of Tennessee. I don't have the time to write negative poems about people in my world, because if I have anything negative to say about them, I'll tell them. Lately, I've been holding back a little bit (people only get about 89% of the whole story), but that's a subject for a later blog, I suppose.
I'm rambling. My point is I don't usually like to explain my writing. However, due to some misunderstandings, I feel the need to clarify the subject of a couple of my more recent poems ("I Could" and "Falsehood"). These poems were written with King George Bush in mind. They were intended to express my distaste for his "presidency" -- Nothing more. It was not about anyone in my life. I do not write negative poems about people in my life. Sometimes I write poems for friends, but, rarely, about them.
This does, however, make me wonder what people must be thinking of me. A friend pointed out that the poems could have been about her. I can completely understand where she got that from, but she was wrong. I wonder if people think I'm just out there "trash talking" -- I'm the "trash talker" of Tennessee. I don't have the time to write negative poems about people in my world, because if I have anything negative to say about them, I'll tell them. Lately, I've been holding back a little bit (people only get about 89% of the whole story), but that's a subject for a later blog, I suppose.
Friday, January 26, 2007
My Morning
It's not even noon yet and I'm tired. I went to bed around midnight and then woke up at four o'clock. Here's the thing: I was rolling over (semi-awake) and heard a voice saying something like "the light is out" but in a Swedish accent (don't laugh). So, I waited a while to see if I could hear it again or determine what it was. Then it happened again. It was very loud. It sounded like it was coming from inside the apartment or directly outside. It was a voice. So, I stayed still, heart pounding, and it happened again. Every 15 minutes or so. At this point, I'm not afraid. It must be something else, so I get up, put on underwear (don't ask) and head off to the living room. Nothing. Nothing at all. Then it was gone. No more voice. It was very strange.
I went back to bed, but the cat was determined to keep me awake. He was jumping around, knocking things to the floor and being a pain in the ass. (What can you expect from a cat whose unofficial name is "Bastard"?) Eventually I had to put him in the bathroom so he could calm down. I went back to lay down and then Annie, my border collie, started whining. It was time to go out.
We went walking and it turns out Annie has diarrhea from eating half a bag of cat food. (She used to eat the cat poop and kitty litter from the litter box, but I fixed that problem.) So she poops. And poops. And poops. And poops. And, finally, when it's all out of her system she stops to eat something on the ground. I try to stop her and she pulls away (meaning she knows she's in trouble and has to eat it fast). So my hand flies into her mouth, pulling it open to see what it is and if I can get it out. It's cat shit. This means that at some point during the day she will vomit.
Somehow during this mouth opening session I had cut my knuckle. So by the time we get back inside the apartment there is blood running down my index finger.
By then it was 9:31 a.m. I resigned myself to the fact I was going to have to go through the day with four hours of sleep. I watched the Colbert Report and the first half hour of the View.
Tonight I'm helping my aunt with the youth meal. Tomorrow it's an opening night at the Playhouse. Next week should be busy (an attempt to keep my mind off food). Back on the diet. Sweet starvation.
I went back to bed, but the cat was determined to keep me awake. He was jumping around, knocking things to the floor and being a pain in the ass. (What can you expect from a cat whose unofficial name is "Bastard"?) Eventually I had to put him in the bathroom so he could calm down. I went back to lay down and then Annie, my border collie, started whining. It was time to go out.
We went walking and it turns out Annie has diarrhea from eating half a bag of cat food. (She used to eat the cat poop and kitty litter from the litter box, but I fixed that problem.) So she poops. And poops. And poops. And poops. And, finally, when it's all out of her system she stops to eat something on the ground. I try to stop her and she pulls away (meaning she knows she's in trouble and has to eat it fast). So my hand flies into her mouth, pulling it open to see what it is and if I can get it out. It's cat shit. This means that at some point during the day she will vomit.
Somehow during this mouth opening session I had cut my knuckle. So by the time we get back inside the apartment there is blood running down my index finger.
By then it was 9:31 a.m. I resigned myself to the fact I was going to have to go through the day with four hours of sleep. I watched the Colbert Report and the first half hour of the View.
Tonight I'm helping my aunt with the youth meal. Tomorrow it's an opening night at the Playhouse. Next week should be busy (an attempt to keep my mind off food). Back on the diet. Sweet starvation.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I Could
I could apologize
Say I'm sorry
Bow down before you
Kiss your feet
But in the end
I disagree
With the way you live
The reason you breathe
No anger
No hatred
Disappointment profound
Blame it on your attitude
Gung ho
Straight ahead
Raise the glasses
Toast yourself
Blame it all
On someone else
Say I'm sorry
Bow down before you
Kiss your feet
But in the end
I disagree
With the way you live
The reason you breathe
No anger
No hatred
Disappointment profound
Blame it on your attitude
Gung ho
Straight ahead
Raise the glasses
Toast yourself
Blame it all
On someone else
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Falsehood
You see what you see
You deny all
Blind by your ignorance
Intolerance is your sword
Lies
Lies
All you know
You are a fool
A fool has no control
Fake confidence
To disguise
Your arrogance
Your personal vendetta
Is all that matters
The mask you cover it with
Claim it’s for the good
Common good
Shameless lies
Falsehood
You deny all
Blind by your ignorance
Intolerance is your sword
Lies
Lies
All you know
You are a fool
A fool has no control
Fake confidence
To disguise
Your arrogance
Your personal vendetta
Is all that matters
The mask you cover it with
Claim it’s for the good
Common good
Shameless lies
Falsehood
Monday, January 22, 2007
Friends
Everything is going very well now. Everything has worked out in the best possible way and I am thrilled. I feel lighter. It's amazing how we allow people to drag us down. But, when we cut them loose and let them fly away, it's a new kind of freedom.
A cousin in Texas who I thought I had insulted actually said she respected me for what I said, which was interesting. The same went for several friends. So, I'm feeling a lot better and realizing I had overreacted to the whole situation. Honesty still wins, and I am glad.
I have learned some new things about myself. I have learned that to be my friend you have to be caring. You have to care about others above yourself from time to time. I'm not saying it's wrong to care about yourself all the time, but it's just not the type of personality I care to be around. I have learned that it's best to follow your instincts. As much as I try to debate and explain, I realize there are times it's best to just stop and walk away. For some people, though, it's easy to give up and retreat.
Life is interesting. I am surrounded by the greatest people. I have my best friend, Pam, and after four years there's not a day that goes by where we don't talk to each other. We share things we can't talk about with anyone else, we depend on one another. I would do anything for her and I believe she would do the same in return. She's my buddy. I have Echo, Megs and Glenda, my online posse. I care a lot about these ladies (whether they know it or not). They are very patient and I'm glad I have gotten to know them. Even though I have yet to meet them I am glad I have gotten to know them as well as I do. I will meet you all sometime in 2007 (and I keep my promises). I have Jennifer, my cousin, who is a very intelligent and caring person. I regret the years we didn't speak to each other (my own ignorance). I love and appreciate all of you.
A cousin in Texas who I thought I had insulted actually said she respected me for what I said, which was interesting. The same went for several friends. So, I'm feeling a lot better and realizing I had overreacted to the whole situation. Honesty still wins, and I am glad.
I have learned some new things about myself. I have learned that to be my friend you have to be caring. You have to care about others above yourself from time to time. I'm not saying it's wrong to care about yourself all the time, but it's just not the type of personality I care to be around. I have learned that it's best to follow your instincts. As much as I try to debate and explain, I realize there are times it's best to just stop and walk away. For some people, though, it's easy to give up and retreat.
Life is interesting. I am surrounded by the greatest people. I have my best friend, Pam, and after four years there's not a day that goes by where we don't talk to each other. We share things we can't talk about with anyone else, we depend on one another. I would do anything for her and I believe she would do the same in return. She's my buddy. I have Echo, Megs and Glenda, my online posse. I care a lot about these ladies (whether they know it or not). They are very patient and I'm glad I have gotten to know them. Even though I have yet to meet them I am glad I have gotten to know them as well as I do. I will meet you all sometime in 2007 (and I keep my promises). I have Jennifer, my cousin, who is a very intelligent and caring person. I regret the years we didn't speak to each other (my own ignorance). I love and appreciate all of you.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
The Truth May Set You Free, but It Can Also Get You in Trouble
It's an interesting time for me right now. My honesty, which was appreciated for so long, with so very few repercussions, has finally turned on me. My honesty and opinions have been so blunt lately that it's really putting me in a weird place. I have at least three people, maybe four, who aren't talking to me (or are arguing with me), because I said what I thought or felt. It really doesn't matter how well intentioned I may be, it always seems to piss people off. I care too much about people and it comes out like I don't.
So, my mind is currently churning out how to heal all these relationships. I could apologize, but I'm not sure what I'd be apologizing for --
My mind goes to Patty Griffin's song "Let Him Fly":
"It took awhile to understand the beauty of just letting go,
cause it would take an acrobat, and... I already tried all that"
So, my mind is currently churning out how to heal all these relationships. I could apologize, but I'm not sure what I'd be apologizing for --
My mind goes to Patty Griffin's song "Let Him Fly":
"It took awhile to understand the beauty of just letting go,
cause it would take an acrobat, and... I already tried all that"
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
The Army
There is a war going on. Not just the "war on terror" -- No, this is a bigger war. This is a war for equality. For everyone -- not just a selective group of Caucasian people who feel they are the 'Elite' -- People of all races, sexual orientations, illnesses, and beliefs are fighting for their own dignity is this land where they are supposed to be free.
My anger lies not with people who are against absolute equality (even though the people that are against it are absolute morons). No, my anger lies with the people who play both sides. The ones who say one thing to one group of people, but then change their tune when face to face with another group of people.
Several months ago I was reading one of those MySpace surveys that go around and a person who claimed to be in support of gay marriage suddenly changed their "belief" to a non-committal answer when they were faced with the knowledge their overzealous Christian friends would read the survey.
My point is this: You are either fighting with us (the army of all races, religions, orientations, illnesses) or you are against us. If you are against us, then you better get the hell out of our way.
My anger lies not with people who are against absolute equality (even though the people that are against it are absolute morons). No, my anger lies with the people who play both sides. The ones who say one thing to one group of people, but then change their tune when face to face with another group of people.
Several months ago I was reading one of those MySpace surveys that go around and a person who claimed to be in support of gay marriage suddenly changed their "belief" to a non-committal answer when they were faced with the knowledge their overzealous Christian friends would read the survey.
My point is this: You are either fighting with us (the army of all races, religions, orientations, illnesses) or you are against us. If you are against us, then you better get the hell out of our way.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Happy!
I'm feeling really good right now. I'm actually happy. Why, you ask? Why am I suddenly happy after I have made it my job to be unhappy and mopey all the time? Well, here's the thing. I woke up today and it just seemed different. So many things in my life are changing for the better right now. I'm losing weight on my diet, trying to keep up with my exercise, growing my hair out, having my teeth whitened (and "shaped" - which is more unpleasant than it sounds), and I'm already planning several different things to do (for "fun") in the upcoming weeks.
Also, my class looks like it's actually something I can do. Basically all I have to do is read and give my opinion on topics. Hell, I do that now! And, the first topic I have to give my opinion on is (drum roll please)... gay rights. Ha. So, my thought is: will I have the majority opinion or the minority?
I just feel good. Nothing to complain about. I'm creating a new me, inside and out. I'm going to give Madonna a run for her money on the "reinvention thing" -- here we go...
Also, my class looks like it's actually something I can do. Basically all I have to do is read and give my opinion on topics. Hell, I do that now! And, the first topic I have to give my opinion on is (drum roll please)... gay rights. Ha. So, my thought is: will I have the majority opinion or the minority?
I just feel good. Nothing to complain about. I'm creating a new me, inside and out. I'm going to give Madonna a run for her money on the "reinvention thing" -- here we go...
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Stagnant
My life is stagnant. Everything is so confusing and so many things are "up in the air" -- there is no real security in anything I am doing anymore. Very little to depend on. And, what little I can depend on, or should be able to depend on, I begin to question.
Schools starts on the 16th... I've been telling people that my "life is going to change" on the 16th. I want to start doing things. I want to go places. I want to meet new people. I say all these things, but I know the truth. I know I'm not going to do things or go places. I know I won't meet new people. I know this. I know myself well enough to know old habits die hard. It's all an anxiety issue and I'm terrified to make any steps forward.
I feel like a failure and I'm letting everyone down. How can anyone depend on me with the life I am leading now?
I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
The girl I care about most, the one I have gone through hell for, won't be there when the time comes. I feel this in my heart for some reason. I just feel like she deserves better. I would do anything for her, no matter what, together or not (I promised this a long time ago, and I keep my promises). But, I fear she'll just be another one of the people in my life who will leave me. It seems everybody leaves me eventually, one way or another.
This was an incredibly depressing post, and for that I apologize. I'm really feeling fine and my life is okay at the moment. I just needed to get this off my chest.
Schools starts on the 16th... I've been telling people that my "life is going to change" on the 16th. I want to start doing things. I want to go places. I want to meet new people. I say all these things, but I know the truth. I know I'm not going to do things or go places. I know I won't meet new people. I know this. I know myself well enough to know old habits die hard. It's all an anxiety issue and I'm terrified to make any steps forward.
I feel like a failure and I'm letting everyone down. How can anyone depend on me with the life I am leading now?
I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
The girl I care about most, the one I have gone through hell for, won't be there when the time comes. I feel this in my heart for some reason. I just feel like she deserves better. I would do anything for her, no matter what, together or not (I promised this a long time ago, and I keep my promises). But, I fear she'll just be another one of the people in my life who will leave me. It seems everybody leaves me eventually, one way or another.
This was an incredibly depressing post, and for that I apologize. I'm really feeling fine and my life is okay at the moment. I just needed to get this off my chest.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Chubby, Poetry, School, Relationships, and a Fantasy World
You know, it's funny. No matter how often you call yourself fat, it doesn't really sink in until someone else calls you fat. Actually, I was called "chubby." Which is just a cuter name for fat people. Just because it's cute does not make it a compliment. Or hurt any less, for that matter.
I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does. It's strange how we complain about our weight, but until someone else draws it to our attention, it doesn't really seem that big of a deal. I'm not happy the way I am. I have dieted hard, I have dieted light. I have done what I can, but I seem to be stuck on the Oprah diet plan: In 2001, I was probably around 140. In 2003, I was 220. In 2004 I was 170. Now I'm 195 and rising. I'm tired of the fluctuations. I'm tired of being "chubby." Take me back to the good ol' days of thin.
Another poem of mine, "Untitled," was selected to be published and also put in a CD collection of poetry readings. Kind of neat. Another one was chosen for this several years ago. I know the poetry places are mostly scams, but only if you buy the books. If you can avoid that, you're getting people to read your words, and that's what matters to me. Just getting it out there.
School starts soon and I'm really dreading it. It's like a torture I place upon myself every semester. I don't really have a choice, though. Gotta do somethin'.
A few of my relationships with people have been suffering. I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm not sure I need to do anything about it. Everything works itself out for the best anyway. It doesn't matter, I suppose. It comes down to the old thought: I'd rather have one best friend than 20 acquaintances. And I have some really good friends. For that I'm thankful.
I have a hard time making friends because I'm on the outside. I always have been. I was raised in a very different world. I see the kids today and I think how different my life was. I can't remember anybody having a cell phone when I was in school. I don't remember all the sex (it was happening, I guess, but no one was really talking about it). I graduated from a grade school that went from Kindergarten to 8th grade. I graduated high school in a class of seven. I lived on a street of 10 houses where everybody knew everybody else and you could trust any of your neighbors to watch your kids. Everyone looked out for everyone else. I didn't attend parties. I didn't smoke, do drugs, drink.
It was weird, when I worked at the Playhouse I worked with a woman who was 80 -- She'd bring up stories about her past and I could relate. She'd talk about how many kids go to high schools these days (so overcrowded) and she'd say, "You kids..." and I'd have to correct her. I could not be included that way. I wasn't brought up in that world. We shared similar life experiences. It was strange. So now as I try to push myself into the social world of 2007, it almost seems pointless. I don't want to fit into what I see out there. I was raised in a different kind of 1950s world and I want that (to a degree). I'd still like to be shamelessly off-the-wall and sometimes lack tact. I guess what I want is the 50's frame of mind. More tasteful than it appears to be now.
I used to think that living in "my own little world" was a negative thing. But I realize I can live in whatever world I want. I can choose who I surround myself with. I can decide what I'm subjected to (for the most part). So if I want to live in my little fantasy world where people have some modicum of decency -- then that's what I'll do.
I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does. It's strange how we complain about our weight, but until someone else draws it to our attention, it doesn't really seem that big of a deal. I'm not happy the way I am. I have dieted hard, I have dieted light. I have done what I can, but I seem to be stuck on the Oprah diet plan: In 2001, I was probably around 140. In 2003, I was 220. In 2004 I was 170. Now I'm 195 and rising. I'm tired of the fluctuations. I'm tired of being "chubby." Take me back to the good ol' days of thin.
Another poem of mine, "Untitled," was selected to be published and also put in a CD collection of poetry readings. Kind of neat. Another one was chosen for this several years ago. I know the poetry places are mostly scams, but only if you buy the books. If you can avoid that, you're getting people to read your words, and that's what matters to me. Just getting it out there.
School starts soon and I'm really dreading it. It's like a torture I place upon myself every semester. I don't really have a choice, though. Gotta do somethin'.
A few of my relationships with people have been suffering. I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm not sure I need to do anything about it. Everything works itself out for the best anyway. It doesn't matter, I suppose. It comes down to the old thought: I'd rather have one best friend than 20 acquaintances. And I have some really good friends. For that I'm thankful.
I have a hard time making friends because I'm on the outside. I always have been. I was raised in a very different world. I see the kids today and I think how different my life was. I can't remember anybody having a cell phone when I was in school. I don't remember all the sex (it was happening, I guess, but no one was really talking about it). I graduated from a grade school that went from Kindergarten to 8th grade. I graduated high school in a class of seven. I lived on a street of 10 houses where everybody knew everybody else and you could trust any of your neighbors to watch your kids. Everyone looked out for everyone else. I didn't attend parties. I didn't smoke, do drugs, drink.
It was weird, when I worked at the Playhouse I worked with a woman who was 80 -- She'd bring up stories about her past and I could relate. She'd talk about how many kids go to high schools these days (so overcrowded) and she'd say, "You kids..." and I'd have to correct her. I could not be included that way. I wasn't brought up in that world. We shared similar life experiences. It was strange. So now as I try to push myself into the social world of 2007, it almost seems pointless. I don't want to fit into what I see out there. I was raised in a different kind of 1950s world and I want that (to a degree). I'd still like to be shamelessly off-the-wall and sometimes lack tact. I guess what I want is the 50's frame of mind. More tasteful than it appears to be now.
I used to think that living in "my own little world" was a negative thing. But I realize I can live in whatever world I want. I can choose who I surround myself with. I can decide what I'm subjected to (for the most part). So if I want to live in my little fantasy world where people have some modicum of decency -- then that's what I'll do.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Let's Talk About Sex
Sex has always been a tough subject for me to discuss. There are probably many reasons for this, one of which may be the fact I don’t enjoy sex. I like everything leading up to it and everything after it, but it’s the during I just don’t like. I just feel sex is overrated.
This could be caused by the way I was raised. My father was what many people would call a “womanizer.” He enjoyed women and… well, enjoyed many of them. I know there were many times that he had more than one girlfriend at a time. These women would come over and they’d go back to his bedroom and shut the door. It was a while before I figured out what was going on. The sexuality was just thrown in my face constantly which led to my own experimentation.
Now, I know all kids go through the hormone-crazed years, but I believe I was extra-charged. It probably started somewhere around 7 and lasted until 14 or 15. There were many girls and there was a lot of kissing and fondling mixed with a few facts I am less than proud of. It was definitely spurred on by watching my father’s behavior and, in the end, all of this skewed my view of sex and intimate moments.
Also, when I was young, I’m not sure how old, but probably around 6 or 7, I would stay with a woman that would watch me after school. One evening I was there and her grandson (I believe it was her grandson, I could be wrong) took me up to his attic room and put in a videotape. The videotape showed a woman giving a blowjob to a man. I can still recall some of the video and I recall him saying something like “and when I come back I want you to do that to me” before leaving the room. I’ve never spoken or written about this, because, well, it always seems very pointless. I don’t think anything happened. It may have, I may have blocked it out, but I seem to think my dad arrived to pick me up before anything could happen. Who knows? But the fact I can still remember the video and the moment is proof that it left something of a scar.
I just don’t enjoy sex. I’m not interested in sex. I don’t like to discuss sex. I like the intimacy, but the action of sex itself just doesn’t do it for me. I also hate mushrooms. I wonder what deep scar I have that caused that issue? Perhaps I need to delve further?
This could be caused by the way I was raised. My father was what many people would call a “womanizer.” He enjoyed women and… well, enjoyed many of them. I know there were many times that he had more than one girlfriend at a time. These women would come over and they’d go back to his bedroom and shut the door. It was a while before I figured out what was going on. The sexuality was just thrown in my face constantly which led to my own experimentation.
Now, I know all kids go through the hormone-crazed years, but I believe I was extra-charged. It probably started somewhere around 7 and lasted until 14 or 15. There were many girls and there was a lot of kissing and fondling mixed with a few facts I am less than proud of. It was definitely spurred on by watching my father’s behavior and, in the end, all of this skewed my view of sex and intimate moments.
Also, when I was young, I’m not sure how old, but probably around 6 or 7, I would stay with a woman that would watch me after school. One evening I was there and her grandson (I believe it was her grandson, I could be wrong) took me up to his attic room and put in a videotape. The videotape showed a woman giving a blowjob to a man. I can still recall some of the video and I recall him saying something like “and when I come back I want you to do that to me” before leaving the room. I’ve never spoken or written about this, because, well, it always seems very pointless. I don’t think anything happened. It may have, I may have blocked it out, but I seem to think my dad arrived to pick me up before anything could happen. Who knows? But the fact I can still remember the video and the moment is proof that it left something of a scar.
I just don’t enjoy sex. I’m not interested in sex. I don’t like to discuss sex. I like the intimacy, but the action of sex itself just doesn’t do it for me. I also hate mushrooms. I wonder what deep scar I have that caused that issue? Perhaps I need to delve further?
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