..i will have to pull my heart away;
There is absolutely nothing behind the cut except a lot of words that add up to complaints, bitching, and a play by play on where it went wrong. I warned you.
Hmm.. why am I here again? I need a place to store my fragmented thoughts and biased observations. I've collected them for far too long, denying myself a moment or two to commit them to paper or this sadly ignored journal. I've allowed them to clutter up the space between my ears and now most of them have either fallen victim to obscurity -- tucked away somewhere and eventually forgotten, have been confused with other thoughts and the entanglement is now too big and too complicated, have simply faded into cerebral nothingness. A pity, that. I'm sure I could have worked out some important ( or not so important if it was so easily ignored ) epiphanies about myself and the world around me. Or I would have done what I normally do and babble about myself in an arrogant attempt at self-realization and understanding while publicly broadcasting my self-absorbed thoughts. .. Something I fully intend to do in this very post.
I don't currently possess the need to try to untangle all that's in my head and lay it out in a way that makes any kind of sense. Whatever it is and all that it entails have gained so much mass that I'd hate to relive it all over again. The range of authentic emotion required by that kind of reflection escaped me. Actually, I'm not feeling a lot of things these days. My last job wandered two hours south of me and I wasn't in the adventurous mood so I stayed behind. Its funny, I thought my life was boring and tedious then... NOW, the days are more often than not a mix of television images that I barely process, mind numbing amounts of video games, undeserved smoke breaks, an endless parade of snacks and sugary drinks, afternoon naps, and very late nights -- productive days no longer apply to me.
I have less of a social life than I did when I spent my nights and most mornings with the noticeable half-cocked crazies and that is sad. I've embraced the homebody, hermit lifestyle with an ease that frightens me and the bodies that I surround myself ( those role are currently being filled by my increasingly indoorsy aunt Ann and my bestfriend who adopted this way of life years before it was even a option for me ) are the absolute worse enablers ever.
I NEED A LIFE. For years, I've dreamed about a comfortable rut that included a busy schedule, had some semblance of order and routine but allowed me wiggle room, a perfect balance of responsible adulthood with lapses into adolescent stupidity, an interesting social life and one day, a hectic but treasured family life. The self-induced "groove" that I've made my from my abundance of free time is not only lacking in all those areas, but is also becoming dull, boring, and very unsatisfying. When asked about my day, not even my mastery of situational creativity and readily available vocabulary can come up with a way to make, "I sat in this very spot most of the afternoon and evening, doing absolutely nothing beneficial,." sound like something interesting and not what it actually means: I actually wasted twenty-four hours of my life doing nothing.
Well, I have to pat myself on the shoulder for this one. I actually managed to explain my days of barely existing in a long winded, wordy and pointless fashion. Its nice to know that not every part of me has dripped out of my ears over the past four months. My arguably above average writing and descriptive skills have remained! ...too bad the urge to write anything other than missed-call notes, carefully unoffensive status updates, and text messages was the first to fade away.
As for this pompous ode to my unfulfilled ( yet, according to me, worth explaining.. wow, can I be any more vain? ), lazy, loosely termed life -- I suppose I'm not entirely okay yet with being a completely and total absentee when it comes to actual living. Maybe there's some innate part of me that absolutely refuses to become a person who stands still, only moving when its absolutely imperative to my continued breathing and the only viable .option on the table ( and even then, only moving just enough to make it to the next acceptable place to park it on the dance floor ). Its quite possible that something deep within me, programmed to function when all that I'm naturally made up of becomes idle for much too long, decided that losing touch me the world around me and never addressing the issue was not a mistake it was going to allow to make without an intervention. Or maybe its much simpler than all of that... just maybe I love life and all it has to offer too much to forfeit my place in it, despite the low maintenance and enveloping numb that a meaningless existence offers.
I cam to a crossroads, alone and torn, knowing that I had to make a decision. Time was ( and still isn't ) an active issue because it doesn't apply just yet ( I have plenty of time to figure out what I want to do, but I don't have forever ), the support system I've always relied on will still stand behind me no matter the road I choose to take, always advising and offering me insight whether I take it to heart or not, my dreams and goals won't change, they will endure and be with me until I seem them made real or watch them die with me. The choices are simple and clearly defined even though they only promise the possibility of what could be --- I can keep on the road I've found myself on recently and crawl at a snail's pace on the easy, simple, undefined, pitiful, and numbing path that doesn't waiver, never changes and seems to be endlessly anticlimactic until I finally take my last breath ( ultimately because there wasn't enough of a reason to keep going ). Or I can make my own path from effort, will power, daily decisions to push forward and build upon the empty landscape ahead of me, creating an enviable pathway that is rich with a life lived out loud and entirely my own, constructing vast and complicated sections that criss-cross and bear witness to all the things that I've survived, experienced, seen, embraced, accomplished, failed at, tried, ... I can mold my life into what I want it to be but only if I refuse to ever come back to this junction, this mental fork in the road again. If I choose to participate in this messed up, confusing, and difficult sport called life, I have to reject the entire notion that anything less will be, is, or was worth wasting the precious gift I was given.
The different parts of me want different things for different reasons but in the end, only my physical self is really railing against the idea of moving and getting it together. You'd think my body would be working as one cohesive, functioning and well oiled machine. Yeah, I guess we were all wrong. Blah. But I guess the only thing to do now is.. well.. do.
-Arious
PS
what an uneventful call to action.
Hmm.. why am I here again? I need a place to store my fragmented thoughts and biased observations. I've collected them for far too long, denying myself a moment or two to commit them to paper or this sadly ignored journal. I've allowed them to clutter up the space between my ears and now most of them have either fallen victim to obscurity -- tucked away somewhere and eventually forgotten, have been confused with other thoughts and the entanglement is now too big and too complicated, have simply faded into cerebral nothingness. A pity, that. I'm sure I could have worked out some important ( or not so important if it was so easily ignored ) epiphanies about myself and the world around me. Or I would have done what I normally do and babble about myself in an arrogant attempt at self-realization and understanding while publicly broadcasting my self-absorbed thoughts. .. Something I fully intend to do in this very post.
I don't currently possess the need to try to untangle all that's in my head and lay it out in a way that makes any kind of sense. Whatever it is and all that it entails have gained so much mass that I'd hate to relive it all over again. The range of authentic emotion required by that kind of reflection escaped me. Actually, I'm not feeling a lot of things these days. My last job wandered two hours south of me and I wasn't in the adventurous mood so I stayed behind. Its funny, I thought my life was boring and tedious then... NOW, the days are more often than not a mix of television images that I barely process, mind numbing amounts of video games, undeserved smoke breaks, an endless parade of snacks and sugary drinks, afternoon naps, and very late nights -- productive days no longer apply to me.
I have less of a social life than I did when I spent my nights and most mornings with the noticeable half-cocked crazies and that is sad. I've embraced the homebody, hermit lifestyle with an ease that frightens me and the bodies that I surround myself ( those role are currently being filled by my increasingly indoorsy aunt Ann and my bestfriend who adopted this way of life years before it was even a option for me ) are the absolute worse enablers ever.
I NEED A LIFE. For years, I've dreamed about a comfortable rut that included a busy schedule, had some semblance of order and routine but allowed me wiggle room, a perfect balance of responsible adulthood with lapses into adolescent stupidity, an interesting social life and one day, a hectic but treasured family life. The self-induced "groove" that I've made my from my abundance of free time is not only lacking in all those areas, but is also becoming dull, boring, and very unsatisfying. When asked about my day, not even my mastery of situational creativity and readily available vocabulary can come up with a way to make, "I sat in this very spot most of the afternoon and evening, doing absolutely nothing beneficial,." sound like something interesting and not what it actually means: I actually wasted twenty-four hours of my life doing nothing.
Well, I have to pat myself on the shoulder for this one. I actually managed to explain my days of barely existing in a long winded, wordy and pointless fashion. Its nice to know that not every part of me has dripped out of my ears over the past four months. My arguably above average writing and descriptive skills have remained! ...too bad the urge to write anything other than missed-call notes, carefully unoffensive status updates, and text messages was the first to fade away.
As for this pompous ode to my unfulfilled ( yet, according to me, worth explaining.. wow, can I be any more vain? ), lazy, loosely termed life -- I suppose I'm not entirely okay yet with being a completely and total absentee when it comes to actual living. Maybe there's some innate part of me that absolutely refuses to become a person who stands still, only moving when its absolutely imperative to my continued breathing and the only viable .option on the table ( and even then, only moving just enough to make it to the next acceptable place to park it on the dance floor ). Its quite possible that something deep within me, programmed to function when all that I'm naturally made up of becomes idle for much too long, decided that losing touch me the world around me and never addressing the issue was not a mistake it was going to allow to make without an intervention. Or maybe its much simpler than all of that... just maybe I love life and all it has to offer too much to forfeit my place in it, despite the low maintenance and enveloping numb that a meaningless existence offers.
I cam to a crossroads, alone and torn, knowing that I had to make a decision. Time was ( and still isn't ) an active issue because it doesn't apply just yet ( I have plenty of time to figure out what I want to do, but I don't have forever ), the support system I've always relied on will still stand behind me no matter the road I choose to take, always advising and offering me insight whether I take it to heart or not, my dreams and goals won't change, they will endure and be with me until I seem them made real or watch them die with me. The choices are simple and clearly defined even though they only promise the possibility of what could be --- I can keep on the road I've found myself on recently and crawl at a snail's pace on the easy, simple, undefined, pitiful, and numbing path that doesn't waiver, never changes and seems to be endlessly anticlimactic until I finally take my last breath ( ultimately because there wasn't enough of a reason to keep going ). Or I can make my own path from effort, will power, daily decisions to push forward and build upon the empty landscape ahead of me, creating an enviable pathway that is rich with a life lived out loud and entirely my own, constructing vast and complicated sections that criss-cross and bear witness to all the things that I've survived, experienced, seen, embraced, accomplished, failed at, tried, ... I can mold my life into what I want it to be but only if I refuse to ever come back to this junction, this mental fork in the road again. If I choose to participate in this messed up, confusing, and difficult sport called life, I have to reject the entire notion that anything less will be, is, or was worth wasting the precious gift I was given.
The different parts of me want different things for different reasons but in the end, only my physical self is really railing against the idea of moving and getting it together. You'd think my body would be working as one cohesive, functioning and well oiled machine. Yeah, I guess we were all wrong. Blah. But I guess the only thing to do now is.. well.. do.
-Arious
PS
what an uneventful call to action.