As of late I have been reading a lot of non-fiction science-based books. Lots of things to learn from very smart people who are involved in very different fields than mine. They have prompted me to have many thoughts and ideas of things to write about. One thing I find interesting is how one of the authors I have been reading a lot of often quotes literature and poetry in his works. This may be because of him being British where much of the greatest English writing has come from. I'm speaking of Richard Dawkins, but that is somewhat irrelevant. What I have been thinking of lately is the separation between science and the arts.
My first passions were both artistic. I have never been able to draw or paint or do anything of the sort. That lead me inadvertently towards music and writing. I have had music my whole life. Singing, bell choir, bassoon, bass, drums, guitar, mandolin, banjo, piano. That list is more or less chronological. I have always sung and to this day I sing all the time. I was even caught singing to myself in a very social context he other day which I found quite amusing. It is such a part of my life that I don't think about it. I also play drums a lot too. Well, with my hands on my thighs or my chest. I move my feet and toes to the beats that are only in my head. Not sure where they come from but they're there. I suppose all this music in my head is the result of listening to lots of music and combining ideas which manifest themselves in my foot tapping and humming. Besides writing and playing music I have had words on my side for a long time too. I have never found it difficult to write. It is very easy for me to get my point across in whatever context I find myself writing in. Though I do have a problem with longwindedness. I started writing stories and whatnot as soon as I could write. I won a few prizes for my writing but never did great in english classes. When I discovered poetry around age 11 my life changed. I realized that I didn't have to write in some organized fashion with punctuation. Then when I started reading Bukowski, Ginsberg, and the like everything changed. I began to be able to put down how I saw the world down on paper through abstraction. No rhyming or meter. What came out was in form and in word exactly how I felt and how I wanted to present the material, which was my mind on paper. Up through high school I knew all I wanted to do was write and play music. I often assumed that I would be a musicologist (history of musical origins) or some sort of writer. Well, that didn't work out did it? I discovered something amazing, science.
Science class during my primary education years was a pretty subject for me. Everything made sense. I really liked the scientific method and how scientists came to conclusions. Science was presented to me during those days in such basic terms that it was easy to accept and I never thought much of it. Only that I believed everything about the universe and about biology and the like. Science was never boring to me. That said I always went back to music. Orchestra was more than a class. Pretty much all of my friends were there or in band. We had a ton of fun, which I attribute mostly to my high school orchestras teacher. In us she cultivated a need to expand our musical horizons and look beyond what was on the sheet music or beyond our posture and technique. She encouraged us to listen to blues and rock music, jazz and bluegrass, funk and of course classical. She introduced us to the subversive nature of music which of course sparked many of our interests (i.e. Shostakovich). I credit her for my variant taste in music. Music became a refuge, as did the music wing of the school that was nonetheless entirely separate from the rest of the school.
I can't say I really discovered actual science until my senior year in high school. That year I went to the local technical college instead of going to my high school. My guidance counselor thought it would be best if I did that. It changed my life. That first semester I took four classes. One was philosophy in which I did poorly because I realized how absurd it all was. The one that changed everything was one that I knew nothing about, absolutely nothing, anthropology. That one class eight years ago has gotten me where I am today, for better or worse. It was then where I discovered science for real. We discussed cultural, physical, and archaeological anthropology. I was enthralled. It didn't hurt that the teacher was one of the funniest and best instructors I have ever had. Before my tenure was done at the tech school I had taken all of the anthropology courses they offered. Throughout that time I was still writing music and prose. I was in a few different hardcore bands and was heavily into metal and folk music. I was an odd one. That lead me eventually to Montana for school which then lead me to Arizona for the same. All the while I have been writing music and words. As always. This is my point I suppose. There is no reason for the arts and science to be exclusive.
There are people in both fields who see the other in an unflattering light. Artsy folks see science as removing the mystery and beauty from life, while scientists see artists as delusional fluffs obsessed with the abstract world of feelings. Thankfully there are folks who are both and can appreciate both. I think it is fun that I can play music and write songs while on an archaeological field trip. I think it is great that I can appreciate opera and a finely tuned chainsaw. I really enjoy the fact that my life transcends different parts of the (western) human experience. I can laugh at fart jokes and also have discussions on archaeological theory, often on he same day. And thank goodness. Both sides of my life can take themselves too seriously. I always like watching a friend of mine play music because of how he holds himself. He often plays very somber songs (dirges, ha!) and after he is done there is a nice bit of clapping then he lets out some hilarious comment or anecdote. Brilliance!
I like science because in it we are trying to prove ourselves wrong, more or less. I like music because we need to prove nothing. Unfortunately in both there are folks who don't believe that. Scientists who feel they cannot in anyway be wrong and musicians who spend more time trying to look good or trying to have perfect, logic defying technique and tone.
These two parts of my life balance me. When I come across an amazing archaeological site I often feel as I do when playing a song that I really like. Joy in a different place. I hope that in the future more people can be both drawn and participate in the arts and science. As Richard Dawkins and the late Carl Sagan have said, there is no reason why science cannot have as many artists as religion has had over the centuries. I hope that I am one, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
viva
To say the least, I listen to a lot of NPR. Again, to say the least there is an immense East Coast bias and a tendency towards the Los Angeles area. As of late almost every story on Morning Edition, All Things Considered, The Diane Reem Show, and every other show is of course related somehow to the economy. With a sarcastically solemn tone I like to use the phrase, “Well, in these economic times...” It's very necessary to preface every statement with it. Just like “well, since September 11th it just hasn't been the same.” As a society we need these temporal markers every once in a while to gauge our situation and present and excusable excuse to justify wherever it is we are. I do have a point.
For a lot of people right now is a hard time. But, that is true everyday in every time somewhere. All in all things aren't that bad. I'm lucky that I have a job that allows me to make a lot of money in a short amount of time and pretty much have job security. What I am trying to get at is the way people are reacting to the economic situation. I have a few points and will expand on them herein.
The first issue I want to examine is the reactions I have heard on the radio from people affected, be it rich business people or now poor, unemployed people. The one theme that pervades in the idea that the apparent economic stability and prosperity would last forever and the fact that is hasn't just isn't fair. To be harsh and realistic, too bad. That's how it goes. If we as a world choose (or are made to believe we choose) to use a market based, capitalist, monetarily driven economy then we must expect to have times when people fail and a lot of them at that. I think it's funny how people are so shocked. This is how it goes. The system that we take part in cannot function without failing and would do so even more if we didn't have a majority of poor, struggling people who are the gears that run the machine. The machine that destroys their lives and worlds. There in a pervasive illusion that in the United States people have the choice to succeed and to be successful, in a market economy. If not choice, then a right. This is the fabrication of the so-called “American dream”, which is still hard to define and probably not as desirable as most people want to believe. This attitude among the “working” class is spread by those in power (corporation, government, and their armies of cronies) so that the people work harder to achieve a goal which isn't really attainable. This leads me to my next point.
Living where I do right now gives me a good chance to look at how a different part of the population of this country lives. They're group number 1 from a previous post. 100% republican most likely and they like machines. Pretty simple pigeonholing. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about these folks. He also lives in an area where nuevo Western mountain hippies and rednecks co-exist. He was explaining to me how now the rednecks (as he labels all of them) are having to sell their toys, their machines. Things like four-wheelers, boats, snowmobiles, big trucks with huge lifts and tires. The kind of recreational devices that I have no use for and quite honestly loathe. We both sat laughing at all of this. Being hippies ourselves we talked about how we'd much rather walk around in the woods than shred it with the wheels of a box of metal that runs on fossil fuels. (I must caveat this in saying that this topic applies to more than just the so-called rednecks, I am simply using them as an area specific example. I'm sure people of like nature exist from Colorado, to Ohio, to Florida and Maine.) As for a lot of people these machines represent more than just recreation or a hobby, but a status symbol. The big truck think is huge down here. They're totally inefficient and really don't have any use. They're mostly driven on-road and are to big to take on many public land roads. In this economy, eh hem, there are folks selling their four-wheelers and those losing their whole life savings because of bad investing. An interesting dichotomy. Both groups share the same characteristics. They both came across money and decided to take risks and to enhance their social standing by boosting themselves with tangible and visible indicators of their success. Neither group was very smart. They both possessed the illusion that the goods times would last forever. I remember listening to NPR quite a few years ago and hearing some “expert” say something to the effect of “There is no housing bubble, therefore it can't collapse.” HA! Good stuff. I drove past a house yesterday not too far from where I live. A typical example of a house around here. Several trucks in the front and a fence (everyone has a fence). The garage door was open. There is no way you could even walk through the garage. Full of stuff. Above all people value stuff. Or as a good friend of mine says when mocking the name of a store “Country Shit You Don't Need”. So true my friend. One of the issues I hear discussed all the time in the media is the fact that in these economic times people aren't spending money like they were. Oh well. Is that a bad thing? To people who like capitalism and who make money off of people who buy lots of shit, yea it is. All I want to do is have less shit. Our economy and society needs more fiber, to get rid of all the shit. Just because you have money doesn't necessarily mean you need to spend it.
This is a segue.
Another thing I laugh at is how people talk about “cutting back” on expenses. It must be the NPR bias or the fact that I don't live like most Americans, but the stuff they're talking about is still much more excessive than how I live. Or they do things that I have been doing for a long time. I hear often about people not going out to movies or buying cheaper groceries or driving less. Well yeah, of course. I and lots of people I know (and many I don't I'm sure) live like that. It's how we survive. I always try to figure out how to get something fro free or very cheap before I spend any money. A good example is the library. Hell, I use that place all the time. I never buy a book (less shit) or rent a movie. It's silly to me to do either of these things when I have access to a library. Before I had my own computer I went to the library and used the free ones there. And now that I do have my own computer I try to find free wireless wherever I go. Living on the cheap and getting stuff for free is how I have learned to survive and I shake my head when I hear people not doing the things they did before which are all in all superfluous, and the doing some of the things I always do. Living simply is great. Or as simple as one can. I try to be simple but it isn't easy. I still have a car and a few bikes and a bunch of shit I don't need. When I hear what people are doing to cope with these economic times I laugh. “All the things we don't do now that we used to, to save money.” There is nothing wrong with not having a ton of shit and not spending money frivolously. It's good that people are canceling their cable and not going out to eat so much. A lot of people have families who they could spend more time with. Making meals together, doing activities that only involve other people, examining what's important. So much of what we do is total bullshit and it is funny that some people (in NPR land) are starting to see that.
This morning I heard a news article made by a woman who moved with her husband to LA (hell on earth). They ended up having a baby (unexpectedly) and her husband couldn't find a job. Her parents invited them back home where they could live in the woods and live a simple life with a garden and the possibility of jobs that would at least support and very modest lifestyle. She made it sound like such a huge sacrifice and a struggle. I find this odd because if I was in their situation I would be gone back home. I'd be out there planting vegetables, chopping wood and going to my low paying job. It's odd how their idea of a horrible sacrifice is how lots of folks would like to and do live. I guess people aren't used to providing for themselves. Personally I have chosen a path and live in a place that isn't conducive to living such a lifestyle. That isn't to say that I wouldn't like to be there someday. The idea of a young married couple struggling to make it has always had a sort of romantic appeal to me. I think it is because that's how my parents were before my sister and I were born. My dad was a school teacher and my mom worked at a five and dime in southwestern Iowa for a few years. All they had was each other. I hope that these economic times make people realize that what matters is each other. It shouldn't take a drained bank account, a lost job, or relocation to realize this, but if it does then all the better. Viva la recession!
For a lot of people right now is a hard time. But, that is true everyday in every time somewhere. All in all things aren't that bad. I'm lucky that I have a job that allows me to make a lot of money in a short amount of time and pretty much have job security. What I am trying to get at is the way people are reacting to the economic situation. I have a few points and will expand on them herein.
The first issue I want to examine is the reactions I have heard on the radio from people affected, be it rich business people or now poor, unemployed people. The one theme that pervades in the idea that the apparent economic stability and prosperity would last forever and the fact that is hasn't just isn't fair. To be harsh and realistic, too bad. That's how it goes. If we as a world choose (or are made to believe we choose) to use a market based, capitalist, monetarily driven economy then we must expect to have times when people fail and a lot of them at that. I think it's funny how people are so shocked. This is how it goes. The system that we take part in cannot function without failing and would do so even more if we didn't have a majority of poor, struggling people who are the gears that run the machine. The machine that destroys their lives and worlds. There in a pervasive illusion that in the United States people have the choice to succeed and to be successful, in a market economy. If not choice, then a right. This is the fabrication of the so-called “American dream”, which is still hard to define and probably not as desirable as most people want to believe. This attitude among the “working” class is spread by those in power (corporation, government, and their armies of cronies) so that the people work harder to achieve a goal which isn't really attainable. This leads me to my next point.
Living where I do right now gives me a good chance to look at how a different part of the population of this country lives. They're group number 1 from a previous post. 100% republican most likely and they like machines. Pretty simple pigeonholing. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about these folks. He also lives in an area where nuevo Western mountain hippies and rednecks co-exist. He was explaining to me how now the rednecks (as he labels all of them) are having to sell their toys, their machines. Things like four-wheelers, boats, snowmobiles, big trucks with huge lifts and tires. The kind of recreational devices that I have no use for and quite honestly loathe. We both sat laughing at all of this. Being hippies ourselves we talked about how we'd much rather walk around in the woods than shred it with the wheels of a box of metal that runs on fossil fuels. (I must caveat this in saying that this topic applies to more than just the so-called rednecks, I am simply using them as an area specific example. I'm sure people of like nature exist from Colorado, to Ohio, to Florida and Maine.) As for a lot of people these machines represent more than just recreation or a hobby, but a status symbol. The big truck think is huge down here. They're totally inefficient and really don't have any use. They're mostly driven on-road and are to big to take on many public land roads. In this economy, eh hem, there are folks selling their four-wheelers and those losing their whole life savings because of bad investing. An interesting dichotomy. Both groups share the same characteristics. They both came across money and decided to take risks and to enhance their social standing by boosting themselves with tangible and visible indicators of their success. Neither group was very smart. They both possessed the illusion that the goods times would last forever. I remember listening to NPR quite a few years ago and hearing some “expert” say something to the effect of “There is no housing bubble, therefore it can't collapse.” HA! Good stuff. I drove past a house yesterday not too far from where I live. A typical example of a house around here. Several trucks in the front and a fence (everyone has a fence). The garage door was open. There is no way you could even walk through the garage. Full of stuff. Above all people value stuff. Or as a good friend of mine says when mocking the name of a store “Country Shit You Don't Need”. So true my friend. One of the issues I hear discussed all the time in the media is the fact that in these economic times people aren't spending money like they were. Oh well. Is that a bad thing? To people who like capitalism and who make money off of people who buy lots of shit, yea it is. All I want to do is have less shit. Our economy and society needs more fiber, to get rid of all the shit. Just because you have money doesn't necessarily mean you need to spend it.
This is a segue.
Another thing I laugh at is how people talk about “cutting back” on expenses. It must be the NPR bias or the fact that I don't live like most Americans, but the stuff they're talking about is still much more excessive than how I live. Or they do things that I have been doing for a long time. I hear often about people not going out to movies or buying cheaper groceries or driving less. Well yeah, of course. I and lots of people I know (and many I don't I'm sure) live like that. It's how we survive. I always try to figure out how to get something fro free or very cheap before I spend any money. A good example is the library. Hell, I use that place all the time. I never buy a book (less shit) or rent a movie. It's silly to me to do either of these things when I have access to a library. Before I had my own computer I went to the library and used the free ones there. And now that I do have my own computer I try to find free wireless wherever I go. Living on the cheap and getting stuff for free is how I have learned to survive and I shake my head when I hear people not doing the things they did before which are all in all superfluous, and the doing some of the things I always do. Living simply is great. Or as simple as one can. I try to be simple but it isn't easy. I still have a car and a few bikes and a bunch of shit I don't need. When I hear what people are doing to cope with these economic times I laugh. “All the things we don't do now that we used to, to save money.” There is nothing wrong with not having a ton of shit and not spending money frivolously. It's good that people are canceling their cable and not going out to eat so much. A lot of people have families who they could spend more time with. Making meals together, doing activities that only involve other people, examining what's important. So much of what we do is total bullshit and it is funny that some people (in NPR land) are starting to see that.
This morning I heard a news article made by a woman who moved with her husband to LA (hell on earth). They ended up having a baby (unexpectedly) and her husband couldn't find a job. Her parents invited them back home where they could live in the woods and live a simple life with a garden and the possibility of jobs that would at least support and very modest lifestyle. She made it sound like such a huge sacrifice and a struggle. I find this odd because if I was in their situation I would be gone back home. I'd be out there planting vegetables, chopping wood and going to my low paying job. It's odd how their idea of a horrible sacrifice is how lots of folks would like to and do live. I guess people aren't used to providing for themselves. Personally I have chosen a path and live in a place that isn't conducive to living such a lifestyle. That isn't to say that I wouldn't like to be there someday. The idea of a young married couple struggling to make it has always had a sort of romantic appeal to me. I think it is because that's how my parents were before my sister and I were born. My dad was a school teacher and my mom worked at a five and dime in southwestern Iowa for a few years. All they had was each other. I hope that these economic times make people realize that what matters is each other. It shouldn't take a drained bank account, a lost job, or relocation to realize this, but if it does then all the better. Viva la recession!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I wrote recently:
The only thing I feel
is that I feel
I can't feel anything
Soft wind through the window
that's how I know you're here
but I guess that's kind of strange
when you're nothing
Can't get much more self-loathing and depressing than that. Might make a good song one of these days. I hate how these posts of late have been more like diary entries but it's what's been on my mind as of late. Something I said to a friend this week made me think of where I am now and of course where I have been. I said “It's the people that make the place.” I do suppose that is why this place I am at now isn't so great. No people. Not enough anyway. I think back not to the best times per say but the times when I felt I was living life in a way that provided me a sense of purpose and belonging. Certainly the good times are the best to think of, but also the bad times and the times that were just ok. It was always nice being able to call someone up after work and knowing we'd do something. It doesn't matter what. Had another dream with the girl in it, the one I saw for the longest time. I thought about her some more and it was strange for me to wrap my mind around the fact that at one time we did things together that people in our situation did. I feel that I am so far from any feeling like that it seems amazing that it is even possible and that I haven't forgotten fully how it is to feel. One likes to think that forgetting is easy or a curse. But I can still remember. There is a place in my memory that holds on to all of those moments and sometimes I am back there. Late nights driving home with a cigarette and the windows down. Or hating myself for having feelings that make me human. Or saying things that wouldn't make things easier. I thought of how there were things that we never said to one another. A set of three words comes to mind. Never once. Never even mentioned the word. We knew. That made it easier, I guess. I still hold onto that. We had such an immense understanding it was odd. We were two people who always held each other at somewhat of a distance. I do that to everyone. If I look at my life now I can trace a lot of what I have done back to her. I have done things to prove to myself that I don't need her and ever thinking “if she could only see me now.' Yeah, that'd show her. What? I guess that I've become a different person but not a better one. But I am a better one. Change has done me good. I have found places that help define me now. I have met people that I would never have had I stayed stagnant. I am glad in a lot of ways to be where I am, but also unsatisfied. That, I feel, I will always be. I only have everyday of my life to make it better. I need to start believing that and never stop living. I have been trying to do things slower, make my life slower. I feel that I miss a lot. I try to make my mind slower too. To think about things more and react after I have thought about something long enough. Just like proof reading your own paper it is had to do the damn thing with one's mind. I keep waiting for life to get better in a sudden and revelating way. It won't happen like that. It'll just sneak up on me and I'll be glad that it did. I'm glad for my life everyday. And I'm glad to be glad.
The only thing I feel
is that I feel
I can't feel anything
Soft wind through the window
that's how I know you're here
but I guess that's kind of strange
when you're nothing
Can't get much more self-loathing and depressing than that. Might make a good song one of these days. I hate how these posts of late have been more like diary entries but it's what's been on my mind as of late. Something I said to a friend this week made me think of where I am now and of course where I have been. I said “It's the people that make the place.” I do suppose that is why this place I am at now isn't so great. No people. Not enough anyway. I think back not to the best times per say but the times when I felt I was living life in a way that provided me a sense of purpose and belonging. Certainly the good times are the best to think of, but also the bad times and the times that were just ok. It was always nice being able to call someone up after work and knowing we'd do something. It doesn't matter what. Had another dream with the girl in it, the one I saw for the longest time. I thought about her some more and it was strange for me to wrap my mind around the fact that at one time we did things together that people in our situation did. I feel that I am so far from any feeling like that it seems amazing that it is even possible and that I haven't forgotten fully how it is to feel. One likes to think that forgetting is easy or a curse. But I can still remember. There is a place in my memory that holds on to all of those moments and sometimes I am back there. Late nights driving home with a cigarette and the windows down. Or hating myself for having feelings that make me human. Or saying things that wouldn't make things easier. I thought of how there were things that we never said to one another. A set of three words comes to mind. Never once. Never even mentioned the word. We knew. That made it easier, I guess. I still hold onto that. We had such an immense understanding it was odd. We were two people who always held each other at somewhat of a distance. I do that to everyone. If I look at my life now I can trace a lot of what I have done back to her. I have done things to prove to myself that I don't need her and ever thinking “if she could only see me now.' Yeah, that'd show her. What? I guess that I've become a different person but not a better one. But I am a better one. Change has done me good. I have found places that help define me now. I have met people that I would never have had I stayed stagnant. I am glad in a lot of ways to be where I am, but also unsatisfied. That, I feel, I will always be. I only have everyday of my life to make it better. I need to start believing that and never stop living. I have been trying to do things slower, make my life slower. I feel that I miss a lot. I try to make my mind slower too. To think about things more and react after I have thought about something long enough. Just like proof reading your own paper it is had to do the damn thing with one's mind. I keep waiting for life to get better in a sudden and revelating way. It won't happen like that. It'll just sneak up on me and I'll be glad that it did. I'm glad for my life everyday. And I'm glad to be glad.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
A brief note on a recent observation. I find myself getting down. Near the dumps even. But I don't seem to stay there. I am pretty good at not feeling bad for myself. I am good at realizing what I need to do to make my life a good one and I have no one to blame except myself. That's good. That makes me feel good. I mean, to be responsible for myself and know it. I'm glad I'm not too cool for school. Pants aren't tight enough.
It's so strange, how I'm living. There are a lot of things that I know I should do that would make my life better but I don't. Just weird. I think about doing them everyday. I make up excuses why I don't do them and that settles it, for that moment. So then I further dwell on the topic somewhat passively. I am under no illusion that everything I do is my own fault and that I have no one else to blame. The benefits of being alone all of the time. I don't have any friends here any more. They all moved away. It's odd. I'm sure that is why I don't like it here so much. I don't even see people on the street who I think I would like. The people I know are mostly from work and that is the thing we have in common. I'll be hanging out with them soon enough so I don't really want to right now.
In all honesty there is one thing that would make me feel the best, if someone called me because they were thinking of me and wanted to hang out. That would be great. That's the catch isn't it? There isn't anyone so they can't call and I have no one to connect with to meet people who might want to call me. Shit. I hate that I dwell on this. Pretty much all the time. I understand every angle of the problem and know what I would have to do to solve it. I just don't. It's easier to sit up late on a friday night writing on my computer unable to sleep because I wish I was out with people who I consider friends or sitting around with the girlfriend that exists only in my mind and who sometimes I feel will never be real. I must just be lazy. I don't want to try, and this is the price I pay. I think that now I can officially say that I'm lonely.
Last week I went into town at night to go to the library. On my way home I stopped at the stupid expensive grocery store. I was looking at the dates in the produce section, and as I was looking at them one of the packages fell off and slid across the floor. I said aloud “Well that didn't work out so well.” A woman around my age standing there said as she picked up the package and handed it to me “But it ended well.” I couldn't think of anything to say. I said nothing but smiled. As I was driving home in the dark a song came on my ipod that isn't a really emotional song and the lyrics are sort of tongue-in-cheek serious, but as it started to play I began to cry. Really cry. Sobbing while driving. I guess it was the melancholy melody and the fact that I felt exasperated. I then thought of the woman at the store and how I wish I had been able to say something. I wished how in some way someone would know how I feel. How worthless everyday feels sometimes even though I feel fine and can't really complain. I can't really be optimistic either. Mediocre. I cried because I wanted to feel something besides indifference and hopeless wishful thinking. I realized how much I am missing because I don't try. Because I am afraid of something. Because I have everything I want except one thing that voids everything else. Life is nothing if you have no one to share it with. I can only tell people what I have done and do. I want to be able to reminisce with people. It sounds corny but waking up alone gets old. Bed becomes an adversary. Even though it has been years since I haven't woken up alone. Not even waking up alone, doing everything alone. My only treatment is the fact that I explain how I feel and observations I make to myself. I talk to myself a lot. I always have but now, it's out of hand. I have philosophical conversations and make up jokes. Weird. I think I even do it when I'm around other people and I don't notice it. Odd.
Had a birthday the other day. I'm not one to be concerned with getting older. It just happens. This birthday was different though. I was alone. No cake, no going out to eat. Opened a box from my folks by myself. Depressing on one level, but I took a more ambivalent approach. I could have been sad about it. But I wasn't. I'm ok with being alone but frustrated too. I don't feel like there are people in this town who I can relate too. They're all transplants, like me. But unlike me, a lot of folks seem to be here for some weird reason having to do with fashions, trends, and wanting this to be more like where they are from. I often say to myself that I'm just not cool enough for this town. My pants are too loose and my clothes are just too inexpensive in general. I'm not drunk enough either. No am I or anyone I know “just sooooooo amazing.” Fuck. This shit is seriously bringing me down.
Things are easier blogged than done, so they say.
Lots of Pink Floyd and bluegrass too.
(written March 6)
In all honesty there is one thing that would make me feel the best, if someone called me because they were thinking of me and wanted to hang out. That would be great. That's the catch isn't it? There isn't anyone so they can't call and I have no one to connect with to meet people who might want to call me. Shit. I hate that I dwell on this. Pretty much all the time. I understand every angle of the problem and know what I would have to do to solve it. I just don't. It's easier to sit up late on a friday night writing on my computer unable to sleep because I wish I was out with people who I consider friends or sitting around with the girlfriend that exists only in my mind and who sometimes I feel will never be real. I must just be lazy. I don't want to try, and this is the price I pay. I think that now I can officially say that I'm lonely.
Last week I went into town at night to go to the library. On my way home I stopped at the stupid expensive grocery store. I was looking at the dates in the produce section, and as I was looking at them one of the packages fell off and slid across the floor. I said aloud “Well that didn't work out so well.” A woman around my age standing there said as she picked up the package and handed it to me “But it ended well.” I couldn't think of anything to say. I said nothing but smiled. As I was driving home in the dark a song came on my ipod that isn't a really emotional song and the lyrics are sort of tongue-in-cheek serious, but as it started to play I began to cry. Really cry. Sobbing while driving. I guess it was the melancholy melody and the fact that I felt exasperated. I then thought of the woman at the store and how I wish I had been able to say something. I wished how in some way someone would know how I feel. How worthless everyday feels sometimes even though I feel fine and can't really complain. I can't really be optimistic either. Mediocre. I cried because I wanted to feel something besides indifference and hopeless wishful thinking. I realized how much I am missing because I don't try. Because I am afraid of something. Because I have everything I want except one thing that voids everything else. Life is nothing if you have no one to share it with. I can only tell people what I have done and do. I want to be able to reminisce with people. It sounds corny but waking up alone gets old. Bed becomes an adversary. Even though it has been years since I haven't woken up alone. Not even waking up alone, doing everything alone. My only treatment is the fact that I explain how I feel and observations I make to myself. I talk to myself a lot. I always have but now, it's out of hand. I have philosophical conversations and make up jokes. Weird. I think I even do it when I'm around other people and I don't notice it. Odd.
Had a birthday the other day. I'm not one to be concerned with getting older. It just happens. This birthday was different though. I was alone. No cake, no going out to eat. Opened a box from my folks by myself. Depressing on one level, but I took a more ambivalent approach. I could have been sad about it. But I wasn't. I'm ok with being alone but frustrated too. I don't feel like there are people in this town who I can relate too. They're all transplants, like me. But unlike me, a lot of folks seem to be here for some weird reason having to do with fashions, trends, and wanting this to be more like where they are from. I often say to myself that I'm just not cool enough for this town. My pants are too loose and my clothes are just too inexpensive in general. I'm not drunk enough either. No am I or anyone I know “just sooooooo amazing.” Fuck. This shit is seriously bringing me down.
Things are easier blogged than done, so they say.
Lots of Pink Floyd and bluegrass too.
(written March 6)
Friday, February 13, 2009
km
As of late my days, and subsequently my months and years, have not been defining. Defined. I do things and get a result. So is life and the universe. I think I live pretty rationally and try to apply that sensibility to life. I do. I am getting tired of such an overwhelming feeling of an inevitable mundane existence. I think about being younger, maybe ten years ago. I was into poetry and mind altering substances. I was much more creative and impulsive. I sought out irrationality and hoped that by the time I was my current age that I would be leading a life that came from my irrational creativeness. Well that is not where my life is. I think the 14 year old me would be disappointed. The 24 year old me is disappointed. Sure, I'm doing lots of cool things and experiencing things I never thought I would, but I'm not experiencing the things I thought I would. I still want to experience those things. Somehow in heel I haven't really left the country and only recently got a passport. I feel that I am failing the me inside of me. I need to change. I have said that a lot. And I am stuck in the cycle of “I will after I've...”. I already have another one of those planned. And it kills me inside. I feel I should have done and be doing more than I have and am. I want irrationality. Reading the stuff I wrote when I was in my early teens is wild because my brain was totally wild. It's total crap for prose but it's such an adventure. The writing was the manifestation of what I wanted to do in the future. Somewhere along the line I lost my romanticism. I lost the ability to be spontaneous and embrace the moment. I have become a low-level worrier. Not about big things, but about minute bullshit that in the long run doesn't matter. I find myself reading less literature per say and more books based on facts and scientific inquiry. I surely enjoy and take a lot away from these books. But the world of fiction is one in which there is so much to get lost in and I seem to just not be able to get lost anymore. As of late I know where I am going, which makes life boring. I have to figure out how to make life more beautiful, more random.
It's funny, I have a phone that I check. No one calls me. Who would? I don't know. It is hard for me to recall what it was like for someone to call me and want to hang out. Used to be the center of a group of friends. Mostly because my house was where we played music. Regardless, I always had people calling me to do something. There was always folks stopping by at random. I was quite popular. It's so strange to think of those days when now I can't even think of anyone to call to hang out with. What it comes down to is that I haven't been in one place for long enough to establish any sort of consistent relationships. It's amazing that I have the ones that I do. I have friends, but none that live even within driving distance. I suppose I am a loner (Dotty, a rebel). I guess. I like having friends though. I just don't know many people like me. Or many people. In all honesty I may live in the wrong place. That said I am still blaming myself for a lack of social interaction. I'm reading Bukowski again. At this point in my life I can relate to him even less so than I could when I was 16. I still enjoy every word. The one thing I can relate to is the title to a book of poetry that he wrote and which I have read, You Get So Alone at Times it Just Makes Sense. I think that's what I've come to. I've gotten comfortable with being alone and am losing something with that. I want to be able to take personal time because I have been around people too much. For most people that sounds pretty crazy I imagine. Sure soon enough I will want to take a break from people, but those people I won't even like that much. I want to be able to take a break from people that I like. Isn't that a weird concept? Many great people have taken great inspiration from being alone and sumersing themselves to solitude. I have just made a way of life out of it. I think about traveling the world and even the state in which I live. One of the main reasons I don't is because I don't want to do it alone. I'm tired of sharing my thoughts with myself. I'm not good at answering and that can lea to the perpetuation of bogus and stupid thoughts getting stuck in my head. I am disconnected.
I should start playing my drums again. I haven't for years. That's crazy. It makes me terribly sad. The instrument that I excel at and I never play. How stupid. My parents tell me that one thing they wish for me is that I be able to play music with a good group of musicians. I do too. Guitar is ok. Doesn't inspire much and I'll never be very good. The drums I know I can get better at. There has to be something I can get better at.
There is a girl who lives here. I have her number. She told me that she wanted to start being friends. I was really blown over by that. She's really great. I told her when I got back into town I would call her. I haven't. As usual I'm waiting until the perfect moment. Which as far as I can tell will be never. I think about calling her everyday. I usually come up with something to the effect of “it's too late”. Too late for what? I don't know. It's not too late nor will it be. I have to start do-ing.
I will start by buying a new snare drum and looking at plane tickets to India or Spain for the fall. I will life this life dammit. I hope it fucking kills me.
It's funny, I have a phone that I check. No one calls me. Who would? I don't know. It is hard for me to recall what it was like for someone to call me and want to hang out. Used to be the center of a group of friends. Mostly because my house was where we played music. Regardless, I always had people calling me to do something. There was always folks stopping by at random. I was quite popular. It's so strange to think of those days when now I can't even think of anyone to call to hang out with. What it comes down to is that I haven't been in one place for long enough to establish any sort of consistent relationships. It's amazing that I have the ones that I do. I have friends, but none that live even within driving distance. I suppose I am a loner (Dotty, a rebel). I guess. I like having friends though. I just don't know many people like me. Or many people. In all honesty I may live in the wrong place. That said I am still blaming myself for a lack of social interaction. I'm reading Bukowski again. At this point in my life I can relate to him even less so than I could when I was 16. I still enjoy every word. The one thing I can relate to is the title to a book of poetry that he wrote and which I have read, You Get So Alone at Times it Just Makes Sense. I think that's what I've come to. I've gotten comfortable with being alone and am losing something with that. I want to be able to take personal time because I have been around people too much. For most people that sounds pretty crazy I imagine. Sure soon enough I will want to take a break from people, but those people I won't even like that much. I want to be able to take a break from people that I like. Isn't that a weird concept? Many great people have taken great inspiration from being alone and sumersing themselves to solitude. I have just made a way of life out of it. I think about traveling the world and even the state in which I live. One of the main reasons I don't is because I don't want to do it alone. I'm tired of sharing my thoughts with myself. I'm not good at answering and that can lea to the perpetuation of bogus and stupid thoughts getting stuck in my head. I am disconnected.
I should start playing my drums again. I haven't for years. That's crazy. It makes me terribly sad. The instrument that I excel at and I never play. How stupid. My parents tell me that one thing they wish for me is that I be able to play music with a good group of musicians. I do too. Guitar is ok. Doesn't inspire much and I'll never be very good. The drums I know I can get better at. There has to be something I can get better at.
There is a girl who lives here. I have her number. She told me that she wanted to start being friends. I was really blown over by that. She's really great. I told her when I got back into town I would call her. I haven't. As usual I'm waiting until the perfect moment. Which as far as I can tell will be never. I think about calling her everyday. I usually come up with something to the effect of “it's too late”. Too late for what? I don't know. It's not too late nor will it be. I have to start do-ing.
I will start by buying a new snare drum and looking at plane tickets to India or Spain for the fall. I will life this life dammit. I hope it fucking kills me.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Judgement
I live in a middle between two people. I'm stuck. Two types of people. It seems that the middle ground I inhabit is sparsely populated wherever I go.
Type one I don't come in direct personal contact with very often, though I see them everywhere. They are everywhere. They seem to not think a lot outside of what to unfreeze for dinner or the size of some type of engine. There are some things that tis type and I have in common. Certain aspects of fashion seem to transcend our differences. We both know about certain things as well. Mostly dealing with football or chainsaws. That really seems to be it though. What separates us is how we see things. They see virtue in things like earning good money, appearing tough, not taking good advise because of who said it. These people can be religious or not. They, by and large, wouldn't deny the existence of a higher power. Horse power, maybe. These people like TV too, a lot. They like things that are funny because the rest of the country (who is just like them more or less) thinks it's funny. They don't mind listening to radio stations that play more commercials than what they consider music. Drive-time talk shows are hilarious. For some, alcohol is ok. Well, as long as it is domestic. Micro-brew beer is unheard-of and doesn't taste very good anyway, and it's just so expensive anyway. The other folks don't like alcohol at all. Drugs? Yea right. These people really like going to the standard American wedding, because they're just so much fun. Prom is important for the kids. So is the mall, which is the epitome of fashion. Looking like everyone else is fine and expected. Cars are important. Mostly because they are the only form of transportation. What's the deal with public transportation and bike lanes anyway? Vacations involve something to the effect of Disneyland or Las Vegas. The illusion of quality and fancy. Women have jobs outside the home for the most part. But they are expected, and expect themselves, to do the womanly things around the house. Men just don't get it, they never will. These folks tend not to live too far from where they grew up. If they do it is still in the same state or a neighboring state. If they live further away it's because the husband got a job offer somewhere else. But they really do miss home and have license plate frames and coozies of their favorite sports teams from home. These people believe that there is an american dream and that if they try hard enough they can achieve it. These are the folks who drive too fast on rural roads and think that by buzzing me on my bike is going to prove something to me. I guess that I need to be driving a car. These people believe what the news says. Why would they lie? These people feel they are being invaded and like to victimize themselves. They think that only if people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps that their lives would be better and need to stop complaining. These people think that telling racist jokes isn't racist if you don't mean it. They have a black friend, don't worry. There people resent people like me. They think people like me ruining this country and should just go to Europe where we belong. These people look at me through the tops of their eyes when I go into gas stations, if they are unfortunate enough to catch my gaze. I'm exactly what these people don't want their children to become, even though they never talk to me.
Type two I encounter be it personally or by proxy. The most important thing about type two is that they are educated. A bachelor's degree is a bare minimum. It isn't to say that there aren't folks who aren't so educated that can't infiltrate this field. These people are a novelty and maybe be treated a such. These people like the supposed finer things in life, but strive for purity in these things. Oh, it has hydroclorofinhainype? Don't you know that causes birth defects and increases rates of thyroid cancer in over 40% of test subjects? These people get really outraged about chemicals in food, so they of course buy organic, when they can. These people don't understand the scam that is corporate organics. These people try to do the right thing, as opposed to doing the right thing. They believe that by knowing what the right thing is pretty is the same as actually doing it. These people overuse phrases like “the most amazing...” or something to the effect of “best/funniest/tastiest/beautifulest ever!” These people have at least 200 people who they call friends, though they may only see/talk to/hear from every few weeks/months/years/decades, and often can't remember their name. Gosh, isn't that weird, I mean we used to be sooo close. These people are rarely amazing themselves, they're just ok. These people like to think they're open minded. These people can tell racist jokes because they have a black friend, it's ok. These people are for the most part left of center. They like to throw around the phrase progressive without realizing where it comes from and what it can mean. These people have ironic semi-political bumper stickers on their cars. These people think that there is a huge difference between republicans and democrats. These people loathe their type one neighbors and try not to talk to them, but then say that they are accepting of everyone. These people claim to hate the consumption of fossil fuels but continue to drive everywhere in cars that aren't as fuel efficient as they think. These people are amazed that you don't know what they do about such a simple topic. Really? you still do/use/see/don't get _____. These people don't try to see from other perspectives, but they think they try to. These people really like themselves. These people have dogs and think that you should like their dog as much as they do. Don't worry, Chance really likes you, that's why he jumped up on you and barked at you so loud, get down chance don't jump, haha. Some of these people have kids. Some don't. These people hold onto things from their college days, which they recollect with a sigh. They still listen to and reference bands that were around for a few of their college years that had a following in their college town, and were so great. These people think right now is ok, but 20 years ago before ____ everything was so much better. Like everyone else these people don't really grow up. They, more than most, try to hold onto their youths in ways that involve moving their bodies and staying active. That may just constitute wearing clothes that make them look like they're ready to go running or for a mountaineering expedition. These people go to semi-dive bars, like the ones they used to frequent in their younger days, or they are still in their younger days. These people like to do all sorts of outdoor activities, or they at least have all of the gear required to do many different kinds of outdoor activities. These people like to consider themselves simple, but they also like to consider themselves above the veld. These people think people like me are interesting, but a little down-home, too rustic even. These people treat people like me with restrained respect and follow conversations like those of a child. People like these think people like me are more like type one than them, though it may be false. These people are a lot more narrow than they think.
So who am I? Who are we? We're not the middle. It's hard to say who we are. We're not on a spiritual or political journey. We don't rely on idols of any sort to get us by. We like each other because we don't have to be perfect. We're not homogeneous. That's why we are who we are. We accept our differences because we like our similarities even more. We come all parts of the world. We like to laugh, especially at ourselves. We all are able to laugh at ourselves because we are able to laugh at the silly world in which we live. We don't strive for perfection. We do what we think is right, and if what we're doing isn't right we tell each other that, but not too strongly. We don't preach. We listen to preachers and come away somewhat flabbergasted. We're not afraid of telling our secrets to groups of people. We greet one another with hugs and sarcastic insults. We're not afraid of one another. We're not too petty. We don't try to change each other, though we change each other everyday. We easily and admittedly see and admit our mistakes. We try not to get too down, though we know that getting down is another way to get up. We try not to take ourselves too seriously, and when we do we call ourselves on it. We use smiles as cures. We are able to make fun of one another freely without consequence. We mock ourselves for the enjoyment of others. We listen to one another because we know it is important. We are only a category because we have one another. That is the one thing that binds us. We are one another, in an odd way. We are full of shit, thankfully.
Type one I don't come in direct personal contact with very often, though I see them everywhere. They are everywhere. They seem to not think a lot outside of what to unfreeze for dinner or the size of some type of engine. There are some things that tis type and I have in common. Certain aspects of fashion seem to transcend our differences. We both know about certain things as well. Mostly dealing with football or chainsaws. That really seems to be it though. What separates us is how we see things. They see virtue in things like earning good money, appearing tough, not taking good advise because of who said it. These people can be religious or not. They, by and large, wouldn't deny the existence of a higher power. Horse power, maybe. These people like TV too, a lot. They like things that are funny because the rest of the country (who is just like them more or less) thinks it's funny. They don't mind listening to radio stations that play more commercials than what they consider music. Drive-time talk shows are hilarious. For some, alcohol is ok. Well, as long as it is domestic. Micro-brew beer is unheard-of and doesn't taste very good anyway, and it's just so expensive anyway. The other folks don't like alcohol at all. Drugs? Yea right. These people really like going to the standard American wedding, because they're just so much fun. Prom is important for the kids. So is the mall, which is the epitome of fashion. Looking like everyone else is fine and expected. Cars are important. Mostly because they are the only form of transportation. What's the deal with public transportation and bike lanes anyway? Vacations involve something to the effect of Disneyland or Las Vegas. The illusion of quality and fancy. Women have jobs outside the home for the most part. But they are expected, and expect themselves, to do the womanly things around the house. Men just don't get it, they never will. These folks tend not to live too far from where they grew up. If they do it is still in the same state or a neighboring state. If they live further away it's because the husband got a job offer somewhere else. But they really do miss home and have license plate frames and coozies of their favorite sports teams from home. These people believe that there is an american dream and that if they try hard enough they can achieve it. These are the folks who drive too fast on rural roads and think that by buzzing me on my bike is going to prove something to me. I guess that I need to be driving a car. These people believe what the news says. Why would they lie? These people feel they are being invaded and like to victimize themselves. They think that only if people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps that their lives would be better and need to stop complaining. These people think that telling racist jokes isn't racist if you don't mean it. They have a black friend, don't worry. There people resent people like me. They think people like me ruining this country and should just go to Europe where we belong. These people look at me through the tops of their eyes when I go into gas stations, if they are unfortunate enough to catch my gaze. I'm exactly what these people don't want their children to become, even though they never talk to me.
Type two I encounter be it personally or by proxy. The most important thing about type two is that they are educated. A bachelor's degree is a bare minimum. It isn't to say that there aren't folks who aren't so educated that can't infiltrate this field. These people are a novelty and maybe be treated a such. These people like the supposed finer things in life, but strive for purity in these things. Oh, it has hydroclorofinhainype? Don't you know that causes birth defects and increases rates of thyroid cancer in over 40% of test subjects? These people get really outraged about chemicals in food, so they of course buy organic, when they can. These people don't understand the scam that is corporate organics. These people try to do the right thing, as opposed to doing the right thing. They believe that by knowing what the right thing is pretty is the same as actually doing it. These people overuse phrases like “the most amazing...” or something to the effect of “best/funniest/tastiest/beautifulest ever!” These people have at least 200 people who they call friends, though they may only see/talk to/hear from every few weeks/months/years/decades, and often can't remember their name. Gosh, isn't that weird, I mean we used to be sooo close. These people are rarely amazing themselves, they're just ok. These people like to think they're open minded. These people can tell racist jokes because they have a black friend, it's ok. These people are for the most part left of center. They like to throw around the phrase progressive without realizing where it comes from and what it can mean. These people have ironic semi-political bumper stickers on their cars. These people think that there is a huge difference between republicans and democrats. These people loathe their type one neighbors and try not to talk to them, but then say that they are accepting of everyone. These people claim to hate the consumption of fossil fuels but continue to drive everywhere in cars that aren't as fuel efficient as they think. These people are amazed that you don't know what they do about such a simple topic. Really? you still do/use/see/don't get _____. These people don't try to see from other perspectives, but they think they try to. These people really like themselves. These people have dogs and think that you should like their dog as much as they do. Don't worry, Chance really likes you, that's why he jumped up on you and barked at you so loud, get down chance don't jump, haha. Some of these people have kids. Some don't. These people hold onto things from their college days, which they recollect with a sigh. They still listen to and reference bands that were around for a few of their college years that had a following in their college town, and were so great. These people think right now is ok, but 20 years ago before ____ everything was so much better. Like everyone else these people don't really grow up. They, more than most, try to hold onto their youths in ways that involve moving their bodies and staying active. That may just constitute wearing clothes that make them look like they're ready to go running or for a mountaineering expedition. These people go to semi-dive bars, like the ones they used to frequent in their younger days, or they are still in their younger days. These people like to do all sorts of outdoor activities, or they at least have all of the gear required to do many different kinds of outdoor activities. These people like to consider themselves simple, but they also like to consider themselves above the veld. These people think people like me are interesting, but a little down-home, too rustic even. These people treat people like me with restrained respect and follow conversations like those of a child. People like these think people like me are more like type one than them, though it may be false. These people are a lot more narrow than they think.
So who am I? Who are we? We're not the middle. It's hard to say who we are. We're not on a spiritual or political journey. We don't rely on idols of any sort to get us by. We like each other because we don't have to be perfect. We're not homogeneous. That's why we are who we are. We accept our differences because we like our similarities even more. We come all parts of the world. We like to laugh, especially at ourselves. We all are able to laugh at ourselves because we are able to laugh at the silly world in which we live. We don't strive for perfection. We do what we think is right, and if what we're doing isn't right we tell each other that, but not too strongly. We don't preach. We listen to preachers and come away somewhat flabbergasted. We're not afraid of telling our secrets to groups of people. We greet one another with hugs and sarcastic insults. We're not afraid of one another. We're not too petty. We don't try to change each other, though we change each other everyday. We easily and admittedly see and admit our mistakes. We try not to get too down, though we know that getting down is another way to get up. We try not to take ourselves too seriously, and when we do we call ourselves on it. We use smiles as cures. We are able to make fun of one another freely without consequence. We mock ourselves for the enjoyment of others. We listen to one another because we know it is important. We are only a category because we have one another. That is the one thing that binds us. We are one another, in an odd way. We are full of shit, thankfully.
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