Day 1
and already i have lost the appeal of this. and therein lies part of who i am, part of what i believe. i guess i should at least try and just throw something out there, to see if i agree with it or not. i should at least have a fairly solid self-realized self in any sense. but i don’t. after having so much of me change and my ideas change, i feel like i have nothing to commit to, because it’s going to change anyways. i will be a constant victim of hypocrisy if i commit to something, because i’m sure there’s more than one situation where i’d be doing the opposite. the other side of the coin isn’t that much of a stretch for me. i just think of how i would react in that situation, and since i seem almost capable of anything, it’s not that hard to envision.

so then, do i believe in myself? to what extent? because i don’t always feel i’m doing the right thing. well, i guess i do. i do what i feel is most right in any given situation. then more information comes into the equation. suddenly i’m not so right anymore. or maybe i’m more right, depending on the info. it maddens me though, becuase i know i would have probably decided differently if i had been thinking with the extra information.

i guess that would leave me believing in information i have gathered throughout my life, but i’m a trained scientist (and a skeptic at heart anyways) and i know that there aren’t any established facts, just that some patterns are more defined and predictable than others. i have to choose information though, true or false because i have to make descisions. i can’t be bothered all the time to know if they are 100% right. i hate 100%. it entails that it contains everything, that there’s no wiggle room for anything else, since it is complete, perfect. and that is shennanigens in my skeptical book. if this perfection is obtained, then there’s nothing else. you got your 100%, what the hell else do you want?

it’s at the root of my math hating. if you follow the rules just right, you will get a said answer. there’s a beauty in that i appreciate, but i suck at it. there’s too many options, too many rules to try and use, and if i’m off by a few numbers, so what? exactness is not in my nature, that’s one thing. numbers, figures, amounts, are barley retained, and i don’t really care. i don’t know how much bob dole gets paid a speech. i don’t know how much coastline alaska contributes to the US’s total. i know all sorts of inanities, but very few of them are numerical.

why do i hate this exactness? because i’m not good at it, therefore i shouldn’t force myself to deal with it? it’s in my self-defined essence to not like these things, so that’s that? is it because all i can tell about life is expressed in greys and being exact seems rediculous? i think that’s what i settled on over the years, but i think there are probably a million reasons for it. i get to a point where something bugs me enough for a period of time and then i come to terms with it. i come to terms with myself, for who i am. i have to on a daily basis and it gets tiring. but now that i have accepted so much, i feel the ennui setting in, where the crank up robot goes and does things that are so familiar, he could be blindfolded. poor baby thinks he can have it all without struggle, that without the strife, there isn’t anything worth obtaining.

is it possible to live a life without the strife without being crushingly bored? i like to say that everything is a balance, but why does it have to be like that? why do i even believe that? balance is something that is found and discovered, but then you find it and then what? you live you life according to this balance? you use it as leverage to balance out something else? balance bot, here to bring balance to your life. don’t worry everything will be equal.

well that’s no fun. if everything in life was balanced, nothing would happen. it takes an idiot to build a scandal, and a pack of fools to carry it out to fruition. i am drawn to these extremes. celebrity gossip is way more fun than politics. watching reality tv crowded with drama queens sure beats the hell out of a show that is packed with losers like me. why do i call myself a loser? because i’m boring and non-confrontational? because carrying a conversation is sometimes more insurmountable than running a marathon? do i really want to emulate all those other winners and become the person i’ve always wanted to be, cast in the image that i have built on the shoulders of all the winners and losers that came before? what other standards do i have to hold against myself? i feel i am happy with myself, but it feels like delusion at times. not because my life is terrible, but because i have these standards that have almost been dictated to me by others. everyone’s got a stake in that, and the numbers stack up on one of the many sides of the issues, and i’ll choose one. it makes me feel less icky to vote against child labor, but makes me feel warm and fuzzy to vote for clean energy. so the hell what? is this what i have to base me, as a person, off of? or only in the social arena?

where else do we have to go but the social arena though? it’s where everything happens. people exchange ideas. people do stuff with them. shit. the exchange of ideas, without actually knowing anything about what makes them believe that. i accept all my info from people who have no idea who i am, and i don’t know if they have any siblings, or if their parents are still alive. the information i recieve from peoiple i know versus people i do not. i can’t know everyone, but people you know are treated different than strangers.

the idea that i come to look at these sources as facets of my life, parts of me. they are what dictate my reality to me, because i choose to accept it. i can’t do all the fact finding and i allow as a distribution of labor, someone else to do it for me. and i take it at face value, then go off and integrate it into something else. something that i believe is a part of me, and will help validate it to others. so that they may more readily understand where i’m coming from. but this is towards the people i know, not the talking heads. all these people i like get the same information though, and they don’t always agree with me. i suppose this only pertains to the social arena though.

but if it’s no big deal, i could be zen with myself right now and never have to worry because i can always put on a mask for the ball. i think i do anyways. i act different around different people. they are sides of me that i allow others to see, what they will most accept without questioning anything. it’s not that i am denying anyone who i really am, it’s just that the filter is changed.

all these filters inside my head, pull one out, put another in, and the image will change just enough to know that it is different, but really it’s still the same. i have to get at that picture. i can keep stripping away layer after layer and never come to a core, that thing i call me because there can’t be a core, can there? if it was core to me as a human, wouldn’t it be core to everyone else? at what layer does the core turn from something that is impossible to live without to something that changes the permutation enough to make a different person with the same building blocks?

there’s more questions than answers. check.

I’ve had it up to here.

i think and think and think and what comes from it, except a strange regisnation to my fate? what happened to the breakthroughs? what happened to the hope? my brain was so happy to finally reach a state of complacent acceptance and now that it has it, it starts getting all anxious. wtf? damn greener grass…

there’s been something that been bugging me, and that’s my beliefs. what the hell are they? where do they want to take me? how do they relate to how i’m living my life now, and how is it being influenced?

this is something i should seriously think about before i write. and i feel like the time to think has come to an end. my mind thinks but forgets and unless all that information is put in the right order, it doesn’t matter. this isn’t the best forum for this, and yet it is. i know it is. becuase i could write this in a journal. i could write it in a word document. but there’s this publishing finality that comes with this medium. this thought happened at this moment and was thought this way. the things that happen with this information becomes so much more infinite once i push the publish button, yet they are still mine. sure, there aren’t a whole lot of people who read this, but there are some. i can change what i want but i don’t think i’ve ever edited anything really besides some drunk stuff that was incomprehensible.

i want this out there, unedited, so that i have something to look back on, something to show the path i follow, from one day to the next. because i can’t keep track of every thought on everyday, because it has too much to do at any given moment, something to distract it. maybe distraction is a part of it.

i want to do some serious, deep, philosophical soul-searching here. i’m past due, and it is time. so much has happened in my life where i throw it in the to do box and let it sit there, most times without realizing it. it’s quite a pile now i’m guessing. i can’t really tell until i sort through it. i have all this perspective from my 25 years and it’s about time to benchmark what i think and believe now, embarrassing, time capsule style.

1 week, one entry per day, no other stipulations. as little or as much as i write is going to show me something. i’m sick of seeing and learning things and feeling like i’m constantly having beliefs reconfirmed, without being able to state what the damn things are. there’s some idea at the bottom of that heap, waiting to be pieced together. i know it’s there. i can be a better person. i can do all i’ve ever wanted. i just need my perspective back, to realize what it is. being able to take an idea and translate it into words is an amazing feat, and sometimes i think i do it justice. sometimes it makes me want to scream.

waiting to be discovered. waiting to be realized. i need to force this because i know it needs to be that way.

1 week.

Election Day!

don’t worry it won’t bite. well it might, but it shouldn’t be lethal.

yeah i tells you what, i tells you, once dem republicans be kicked out of the house things is gonna change. gold and strippers falling out of the sky, and people of the world uniting to become one with the essence of life itself, as the bad elements are purged out of america like we just figured out the code to the airlock that sits somewhere in the NV/AZ desert. the door we claim to have found but could never open. bust it open and watch anything and everything get sucked out into oblivion where it doesn’t really matter anymore.

i had a productive day yesterday. i visited people, i picked up stuff, got new stuff, dropped stuff off. all in a timely manner. i accomplished short term goals and once again fashioned a proof for myself that a ounce of prevention is worth a pound of prepardness. it felt good to accomplish some of this, yet still leaving a little wiggle room for that of which yet needs to be completed. they’ll get done allright, done reaaaaaaaaaal good. in a timely manner of course. what a worthless paragraph.

i went dancing, my soul lit alive and floundered at the same time as it convulsed to the pounding rhythm (such a cool word, i guess it is sometimes y) of alternated deep trance and epic trance. the epic is more to my liking, but everyone else was on the floor for the deep. which was fine by me, more room to hop hop hop around. those otha suckaz can try and keep time to the deep trance, which is just house with some reverb and stomp stomp stomp out of time due to an ingestion of too much ecstacy. gotta go with what feels right though, with the dance you heart delights in, the music that sings to core of your esscene, drawing upon your experiences on this earth and the subconcious tha’s running things behind the scenes. letting it flow forth through the dank, wet feel of the club where the nwtekno groups convene and try and sort out their lives among peers of equal empathy. gimmie another light show and let me use that head massager and we’ll call it even. even the waking up with a terrible calf cramp in the middle of the night was sensational. my muscles can still be abused sometimes if i have sufficient drive.

sit. contemplte. feel. it’s cool, i won’t tell anyone. you’re safe here. safe and sound in the ability to do as you please whenever you want to. to make is to comprehend. understanding can fill the hole but eats away at the bottom as to only make it deeper. if you dive in headfirst though, you are lost, you succumb, you give in. you become a part of that deep hole and at that point, it doesn’t really matter where you are, you’ve discovered something far greater anyways. i have this rope though. amazing really. comprised of all that has come before me. all that i currently know, love, and trust down tot he center of what i understand as myself. it dangles down a little below my feet but is constantly growing, as i constantly go deeper. it takes what i have to offer and keeps weaving, adding to the spindle of rope that seems to stop growing sometimes but is. i lower myself cautiously, not knowing what or where the bottom is, just that if i hang on, i’ll get there. potential energy to be let loose slowly, as to expend it all at once would be to let go of the rope. which may happen someday. it may be the only realy way to figure out where you’re being lowered too.

to much analogy, i get into them so thinck sometimes that i feel way to literal and then the metaphore becomes a thinly veiled metaphore, where you spell things out instead of leaving them implicit. imply this, bitch. i think what i wanna and my brain has a dandy of a time sorting it out. it is on the edge, where it needs to be, with ego struggling to bust out of the seams and allow an understanding of such high quality that i might even understand what and how much quality it contains. it’s that cool to be me. try and be me, i dare you. just about as futile as that door in NV/AZ. if you could open i, you would know, and then the trip would be over. if you knew then there wouldn’t be much else to excel towards, would there?

if the point of the trip is the journey and not the destination, then a life of endless wandering is the key. there is no spoon. there is no destination. there is nothing that can’t be accomplished, and nothing forbidden. crash into the door over and over until a result is achieved. and praise the wonder that lets you think even grasp some comprehension of the paths you take, despite not knowing the motive or the force. it just exsists, and that really is good enough. no worth, no message, nothing but what you spin, conjure, and select.

…..and relax.