Many Moons Later

Bonjour!  WordPress.  It has been so long since I’ve posted; I’ve forgotten how to type, write and speak.  My vocabulary is dwindling, and I’m concerned, if I don’t start blogging again, my course papers for university will be inadequate.

The past week has been rough for me.  I’m a self-proclaimed mama’s boy, and my Mama has been out of town for five days!   I cried myself to sleep Sunday night because of intense empty-nest.  I’m used to being alone when I’m the one who left, but when she leaves, my world ends.  Actually, this is the first time she has left me alone for this length of time.  I had to take on more responsibilities while she was gone–feeding and caring for her dog.

I don’t think I can take on much more.  Implosion is a strong possibility.  Classes have consumed my being.  Work is taxing.  I want a new job, but I haven’t decided if it merits a “need.”  I’m just so…annoyed with it.  By no means is it a hard job.  It requires more focus than I would like to give–limited generosity.  My focus is elsewhere, but I doubt that any job will satisfy me.  I have one thing in mind.  What that is, I will not say.  I’ve learned, when it comes to making personal decisions, silence is the best policy.  I tend to vocalize my internal debate, and it, generally, bites me in the bum in the long wrong.  I appear to be fickle.  Yes, I am with certain things.  Like bedding.  For you,  Madi.  However,  I’m learning.  I was searching for something; I think—something intangible, but I often try to fill the void with something tangible.  I’m one of those people.

for now

no time for pleasantries, but i haven’t posted in a long while, so i thought it was time.  i’ve been busy to say the least.  school. work. school. work. social life.  at least, i’m one of the lucky ones that has found time to stick a social life somewhere in the mix.

relationships have been up and down.  friendships feel…awkward.  i dislike it, but that’s the way love goes.  it’s never stable, always fluid, always challenging.

that’s all i got.  hey, at least, it is something.

Now…

One day, it won’t be like this anymore.

Today my mom and I were cruising the town. I have a party to go to tonight, and I told her the location. She was surprised that was where it was at. Our town is relatively small, but it still has what could be defined as a ghetto strictly in the urban definition of the term. Well, maybe not the urban definition, more like the small town version of the term.
It was surprisingly nostalgic. Memories were creeping in from the deepest parts of my unconscious. I hadn’t thought about my cousins, my childhood in a long while, but while thinking about it, I was struck by the golden light they were presented in. For a long time, I would look back on my childhood, and it would glare back at me in bleak black and white–no color.

Wonderful by Gary Go (Lyrics)

The person that you were has died
You’ve lost the sparkle in your eyes
You fell for life – into its traps
Now you wanna bridge the gaps
Now you wanna bridge the gaps
Now you want that person back

And all your ammunition’s gone
Run out of fuel to carry on
You don’t know what you wanna do
Cause what you want does not want you
If what you want does not want you
And you’ve got no pull to pull you through

Say “I am”
Say “I am”
Say “I am wonderful”

Say “I am”
Say “I am”
Say “I am wonderful”

If what you’ve lost cannot be found
And the weight of the world weighs you down
No longer with the will to fly
You stop to let it pass you by
Don’t stop to let it pass you by
You’ve gotta look yourself in the eye

Say “I am”
Say “I am”
Say “I am wonderful”
Oh you are

Say “I am”
Say “I am”
Say “I am wonderful”

Cause we are all miracles
wrapped up in chemicals
We are incredible
Don’t take it for granted, no
We are all miracles
Oh we are

Say “I am”
Say “I am”
Say “I am wonderful”
Oh you are

Don’t take it for granted, no
We are all miracles
wrapped up, yeah we’re wrapped up
Oh we are wonderful

I cried when I heard this song because of the chorus before I even took the time to listen to the verses, but the verses only augmented my connection to the lyrics and melody.  I love it.  We are wonderful.  It takes some time to realize that, and, at times, it may seem like some are less than wonderful.  Maybe they are, but if we embrace the idea that we are all wonderful, maybe those tainted by something that can be called little but evil will no longer thrive in our society.  But, then again, that would be idealism.  Nevertheless, I will hold on to this song as a reminder of how we can change our lives no matter how lost we may feel.  We can have that romantic existence.

Domino…

Just realized that the previous post.  Yeah.  That one.  Down there.  Look.  No.  Scroll down, idiot.  There ya go.

The previous post is basically, with minor changes, the same post that I posted on the 24th.  I need sleep.

It Has Begun

I can never say/type that without flashing back to the first Mortal Kombat movie, where Shang Sung, or whatever, is lifting his arms up to the sky, uttering, “it has begun,”  while a piss-poor CGI dragon is swirling around him.  Ah. Memories.

But let’s get serious.  It has begun.  I’m officially in college mode.  Pencil? Check. Paper? Check.  Total destruction of social life?  Double-check.  But it is all for a good cause.

By the end of this semester, I’m liable to be schizophenic.  The minds of a historian, literary scholar and frenchman will be intertwined with the psyche I once called “moi.”

I can’t complain.  I whined; I cried; I asked for something to pacify my boredom…Someone listened.  Mom isn’t doing so hot.  She has a lot of stress on her from work.  Poor Mommy.  She will get through it.  Always does.  But this time does seem a little different.  She herself said that she has, “never had anything she couldn’t handle.”  This, she feels can’t be “handled.”  I beg to differ.  She is just overwhelmed.

Anyway, Beowulf isn’t reading itself.  And the Native Americans are stuck at Wounded Knee…not the best place to make a piss-stop.  Time to, as they say, “hit the books.”

The Sepia Tire Swing

Carpe Diem!  No regrets.  Seize the day.  All mantras that I myself have chanted.  But, consciously, I’m not sure I’ve ever fully embraced the ideal. 

Today, sitting in my British Literature course, I was forced into reflection by my awesome (no better word) instructor.  He said something about time, how we live in the past despite our alleged affinity and pseudo-respect of the present. 

I’m inclined to agree with him.  The old pictures of friends, the teddy bear from our childhoods, old books, movies, even current fashion trends are all part of or inspired by the past. 

The future can be obsessed over, but there is no certainty to things that have not yet passed.  The past, however, can be dissected, analyzed…worshipped.  It is remembered rather than predicted.  It is simpler to live in what was rather than what is or what may be. 

It is difficult to face who we are, and as we do with most hardships, we deal with that difficulty by simply ignoring it–shifting our perspective.  What will we be?  What were we, and how can we get it back?  There are those few with the tenacity to look in the mirror rather than a photograph, but that bravery is often transcient.

Monday August 24th

The damage isn’t severe.  I will survive…for now.

Classes began today, and my life ended.  I will be be reading until my eyeballs cramp, writing until carpel tunnel sets in and studying until caffeine becomes scarce.  All in the name of…what the hell am I doing this for again?  Oh yeah!  I’m a sucker.

Issues with Fate

One day, I will understand my place.  I will create that special somewhere, that space in time where I’m totally happy and perfectly secure, but until then I will run amuck–frantic and constantly busy.

Why is it that we focus on that one day?  Seriously.  It will never happen.  We are not fated to be happy.  We have free will.  Everything is based off of choice.   Happiness is dictated by the choices we make.  Action not reaction, though, sometimes our choices are in response to something external…or internal.

I used to believe in fate, that everything happens for a reason, but, recently, I’ve retracted that ideal.  I, honestly, believe that we create our experience.  To quote John Connor from Terminator 2: Judgement Day, “there is no fate but what we make for ourselves.”  I adore pop-culture references.

It makes no sense to me that whatever created us would give us free will only to dictate our choices by putting signposts telling which path to take.  This implies that there is a right path, which means there is a wrong path, which entirely defeats the purpose of free will.  Though, I must admit.  Every freedom comes with qualifications.  And choices should always adhere to moral code.  However, morality is also subjective despite those few things that are inherent and universal.

I could accept the notion of help from something beyond ourselves when asked.  It is like a parent.  Mom teaches you her ideals and you absorb what you can from dad, but ultimately it comes down to your choice.  Maybe (I’ll call it God) God throws in some suggestions, but you choose.

Also, I can accept that miracles happen that completely alter your perseption, but was it fated?  I’m not so sure.  And I suppose it depends on how your perceive fate.  It is hard to discuss matters so subjective.  Do you really get anywhere?

The Insignificant Labyrinth

In time I will impress you with my awesome writing abilities and noteworthy creativity, but for now, just know that I stink and desperately need a shower, but since the gods have decided that it is okay to piss on my roof and clap to f’in loudly, I’m not sure that I will be able to take a shower because the power may go out while I’m in the shower, or even worse, I could be struck by lightning, but as I said on Facebook, maybe I will end up getting a nifty superpower from the whole ordeal, so it may be worth it.  I love labyrinthine sentences.