I cannot judge those around me for being sad, ridiculous fools when I chase after something I don't even want; this thing I don't even like. I don't respect it. It actually repulses me most of the time, yet I chase it. It is some sort of pointless game of cat and mouse. If I were to catch it, I would throw it back. I'm pretty sure. Positive, in fact.
So why have I spent two months of my life wasting my time? I should know the answer to this question. I say this because I know I don't even like it. The answer should be a given. So I ask myself, "What is wrong with me?" I'm changing. I'm growing. I am becoming me again. It is very possible that I chase this stupid, nasty, crass thing because I am afraid to keep growing. The familiar uncomfortable, painful, bad choices draw me to this game because it is what I have known for years.
The familiar feels safe no matter how unsafe and painful it may be. I must resist this temptation to settle for less than I deserve. I must resist the temptation to choose to fail because I am afraid to succeed. This is only one of the reasons I cannot judge those sad, pathetic fools I see around me.
Forget catch and release. I'll just cut the line and let it go. And forget the mouse. He's tasteless anyway.
Monday, June 28, 2010
On The Road Again
At some point in your life you may realize that you were meant to travel through this journey on your own without a companion. It stings at first, then you get used to it. Well, maybe you never get used to it.
Sometimes the strongest woman you see during the day is the one who cries herself to sleep at night.
Things usually start out great in relationships, then you realize, in that moment of clarity, that it will never work. It just cannot. Someone told me the other day that he loves me. For some reason I just don't believe it is real. If I let go, it will hurt. It will be painful. It won't last. When you know this, when you really know this, do you still go on with the relationship or do you just call it quits? When do you get courage to let go? Is it at that moment of realization? Is it after a few weeks or months? Is it right before you walk down the aisle? Is it right after the marital kiss and you definitely know it's wrong so you just don't sign the papers?
Our brain (or our heart/chest) tells us something, but is it doubt? Is it fear of the past coming through keeping us from possible happiness or is it real? What is perceived is real, right? Perception is everything, is it not? Is there some reason that I long to feel loved, but run when there is even the possibility?
How do you know when it is instinct screaming at you or paranoia buzzing in your head? The mind can play tricks on you or try to protect you and the signals get crossed. If you touch a hot stove burner out of curiosity as a child, you learn and the brain reminds you to stay away. Self preservation kicks in. It seems the same with emotions. If a person never experiences emotional anguish, though, can that person ever truly understand joy or happiness? Don't we have to know one to know the other?
"The life I love is making music with my friends...Going places that I've never been. Seein' things that I may never see again...on the road again."
Sometimes the strongest woman you see during the day is the one who cries herself to sleep at night.
Things usually start out great in relationships, then you realize, in that moment of clarity, that it will never work. It just cannot. Someone told me the other day that he loves me. For some reason I just don't believe it is real. If I let go, it will hurt. It will be painful. It won't last. When you know this, when you really know this, do you still go on with the relationship or do you just call it quits? When do you get courage to let go? Is it at that moment of realization? Is it after a few weeks or months? Is it right before you walk down the aisle? Is it right after the marital kiss and you definitely know it's wrong so you just don't sign the papers?
Our brain (or our heart/chest) tells us something, but is it doubt? Is it fear of the past coming through keeping us from possible happiness or is it real? What is perceived is real, right? Perception is everything, is it not? Is there some reason that I long to feel loved, but run when there is even the possibility?
How do you know when it is instinct screaming at you or paranoia buzzing in your head? The mind can play tricks on you or try to protect you and the signals get crossed. If you touch a hot stove burner out of curiosity as a child, you learn and the brain reminds you to stay away. Self preservation kicks in. It seems the same with emotions. If a person never experiences emotional anguish, though, can that person ever truly understand joy or happiness? Don't we have to know one to know the other?
"The life I love is making music with my friends...Going places that I've never been. Seein' things that I may never see again...on the road again."
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Courage
Sitting in the dark every morning as the sun crests over the horizon, building up the nerve for just one more day.
Is it lying if you tell yourself, "You can do this. Just take each moment as it comes."?
Is it lying if you tell yourself, "You can do this. Just take each moment as it comes."?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Crude
The night is filled with a kind of sadness and somber quiet.
Tonight as I drove by the Pensacola Beach sign "Whitest beaches in the World" flashing its bright bulbs, a small sigh came out from within me.
Even though the heat was unbearable, I drove with the windows down and the a/c off. A dose of reality is pertinent at certain times to keep tabs on who and where we are. The smell coming off the ocean breeze burnt my nostrils as the humility overcame me. I drove straight to the beautiful white sand beaches, arriving just minutes before the first of the night-time cleanup crew buses arrived.
People of all ages and backgrounds stood around quietly, whispering if they even dared to talk. It was dark, the 3/4 moon shone brightly, reflecting off the waves of oil rushing in with the tide. This morning Pensacola Beach woke up to black beaches for the first time since the "spill". This is the first day the oil showed up in waves instead of globs on Pensacola Beach. What is happening is incomprehensible to most everyone.
Double red flags line the beach warning people not of dangerous surf, but of the murderous, toxic stickiness soaking into the sand, killing millions of lifeforms from microscopic organisms to large sea mammals.
Will the cleanup crews get sick and die a slow torturous death like so many of those who helped clean up a drunken ship captain's spilled drink in back in 1989? One thing that is certain, they will never forget this job. It will stick with them in their memories like the tar sticks to their rubber boots as they pointlessly shovel up and bag scoops of sand that formerly only contained happy memories of their childhood playground, vacations, weekends, and holidays. They shovel and throw away millions of faint memories replacing them with tears and stinging nostrils.
Tonight as I drove by the Pensacola Beach sign "Whitest beaches in the World" flashing its bright bulbs, a small sigh came out from within me.
Even though the heat was unbearable, I drove with the windows down and the a/c off. A dose of reality is pertinent at certain times to keep tabs on who and where we are. The smell coming off the ocean breeze burnt my nostrils as the humility overcame me. I drove straight to the beautiful white sand beaches, arriving just minutes before the first of the night-time cleanup crew buses arrived.
People of all ages and backgrounds stood around quietly, whispering if they even dared to talk. It was dark, the 3/4 moon shone brightly, reflecting off the waves of oil rushing in with the tide. This morning Pensacola Beach woke up to black beaches for the first time since the "spill". This is the first day the oil showed up in waves instead of globs on Pensacola Beach. What is happening is incomprehensible to most everyone.
Double red flags line the beach warning people not of dangerous surf, but of the murderous, toxic stickiness soaking into the sand, killing millions of lifeforms from microscopic organisms to large sea mammals.
Will the cleanup crews get sick and die a slow torturous death like so many of those who helped clean up a drunken ship captain's spilled drink in back in 1989? One thing that is certain, they will never forget this job. It will stick with them in their memories like the tar sticks to their rubber boots as they pointlessly shovel up and bag scoops of sand that formerly only contained happy memories of their childhood playground, vacations, weekends, and holidays. They shovel and throw away millions of faint memories replacing them with tears and stinging nostrils.
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