Author Archives: Ryan Driscoll

The Draw

I can feel it pulling, a momentary lapse in something to do with few options to distract. There’s some caffeine driven need to write something down, just because. The draw of creating some content is strong, that’s usually the time to go with it.

It’s never really a problem per se, but i come here alot with the inention of just writing something, and no idea of where to really start. so i hammer out a few sentences like this to get warmed up, something will eventually pop up. this isn’t a race, right?

Sometimes that doesn’t happen. sometimes, nothing pops up. i guess that can be part of the draw as well. just to write a little and think about what you may want to write, and still not come up with enough to really create anything worthwhile. this is OK, and there is a feeling that you almost don’t even need to post this. But you have to leave this here as a reminder.

Not everything has a point.

One Week

Allright, it’s kinda unfair as this is the busiest time of year, but i’m calling out ben here.

A week from now (6 days to be exact) it will have been an official calendar year since your last post. No judgement, no criticism, just pointing it out. If you have moved on, so be it. I have been, and will continue to hold down the friv fort.

Because apparently, I still need this, so very badly.

Surreal

So I’ve been avoiding posting for awhile, despite the heavy need to do so. There’s alot going on right now, and I just haven’t felt the need to sort it out yet. If i don’t force myself to, then I probably won’t, so here we are.

Here’s the seed that got me here: Over-hearing a conversation, with this comment being the point I jumped in:

“Why is it that these things are discovered after i’ve done all this work?”

Immediately the response that struck me was “Becuase of your narcissism and self-involvement. You notice these things because they affect you directly.”

That would have been really mean and uncalled for though. It also would have been over-simplification on my part. But the statement doesn’t ring  untrue to me, although it may be an oversimplification.Part of that idea still resides in that statement. Many things we say about ourselves contain that nugget of narcissism. How can it not? So what is this seed i wish to define? Anger, of course. Directed at myself and others due to circumstances outside of my control. you narcissistic asshole.

This is more accurately described as a rhizome cut off of a root system that is already there and is crying out for water. This week has been tough, yesterday especially. You don’t see the saddest sight of your life everyday.

Here’s something my uncle read at my grandmother’s funeral. It’s called Plan For Life, by Mother Teresa. I know i have heard this piece before, but sometimes, you’re more ready to listen.

people are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
forgive them anyway.

if you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
be kind anyway.

if you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies.
succeed anyway.

if you are honest and frank, people may cheat you.
be honest and frank anyway.

what you spend years building, someone may destroy overnight.
build anyway.

if you find serenity and happiness, people may be jealous.
be happy anyway.

the good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow.
do good anyway.

give the world the best you have, and it may never be good enough.
but give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

you see, in the final analysis, it is all between you and god;
it was never between you and them anyway.

To me, most of the quote is good, but almost overly-earnest in prose, and almost redundant. But the last line is big. God or not, it was never between you and them anyways. it was never between you and them anyways. jesus, what a line. you and yourself…and love in-between. it’s all there waiting for you, if you can tolerate yourself.

then your friend has a near death experience and you are just beside yourself  with surrealism now.  You wonder what you can type as a holder of information without maybe over-stepping your bounds, but then it’s all over face book. And yet you are the person concerned with yourself  so deeply, the one you referred to after overhearing a conversation. Think of how this effects you, and then try and empathize, right? why else would you try and understand yourself so well if not to empathize with others? this narcissism runs so very, very thick.

With some reflection though, all that seems to be done is empathize, as much as you can muster. Everything seems bad, but it’s not as bad as it could be. For that, you are thankful. It could always be worse. You could be completely alone with yourself in this environment. But you don’t have to, your world is populated by those you care about. You narcissistic asshole. Navel-gaze some more, get the self-hatred out of your system, and then carry on. do something you can be proud of, be someone that you admire, live awesomely.

it sounds good when you say it like that. then the awful truth comes through. let’s do this anecdotally. it takes you three weeks to write this. a tidal wave of  ideas regarding mortality left you stunned, and you backed off, telling yourself you needed time to let it sit. but between you and yourself, you were hiding. what was it that brought you back here again?

you went to an excellent Christmas work party which overflowed with joy and touches of nostalgia. after hours of decadent eating and drinking, out of nowhere you won an ipad by the plucking of your name from a santa hat, by your beautiful wife. despite being ridiculously lucky and blessed all-around, you’re a little miffed that you have to install itunes on your computer, just to use it. this is the life you retreat to. these are the problems you deal with. this is your life, for better or worse.

so what? you can at least come here to scream about what made for such a great night tonight, just talk about it, point to it and show that it existed, give it some words.  breath some life into it, if only for you. the thing about death is it happens. the thing about life is it happens.

be awesome in the meantime, i guess.

Important

Sometimes everything seems important.

Sometimes nothing seems important.

What’s the difference, where does the delineation lie? Sometimes my breain tells me that ideas are important. New ones, old ones, ones that pique my interest, or not. Then it turns around and when i start picking at the idea, it immediately jumps straight to “what’s the difference”. Not just idea picking though, all incoming information gets passed through that filter, first and foremost.

This idea is always within ideas, but at times like these, my brain is more apt to agree with them, rather than point out how negative and unconstructive it is. It really bugs me because I know I’ll get over this feeling and things will go back to normal. But that whole idea of changing perspective on a time continuum lies near the foundation of this “what’s the difference” idea.

Commit to something and change your mind. Think one way about something then change your mind. Change your mind about something and then change your mind. It’s inevitable, like alot of things going on in life.

So since there’s a choice, the obvious way to go is the one that causes less pain, right? Right. Of course it doesn’t work that way though, i can only force my brain to embrace so much joy, without going to check on how pain’s coming along. Interest in one grows, the other wanes. It has to be like this, but I’m also supposed to be this construct of a person that deals with others. I guess it fits in because it has to.

Deep.

Introvert

The title says it all, one of those have the title before going in pieces. Days like these where all I want to do is live inside my head and have no one bother me. I can barely wrap myself around my brain, and the idea of using words to express this to others is just something I don’t want to do. I can still exist, but I’d rather do so very outwardly silent.

I can come here though. I can listen to others, but am pressed to respond. I can do whatever I want, to a point. I balance the comfort I feel within myself with how it’s projected out to others. As well as I can, anyways. I get the sneaking suspicion I’ve been caught, but what the hell does that mean.

you know what it is.

get back inside your head, and live it up.

Government Booze

Man, i was already so convinced that the initiative to privatize liquor sales was so locked i didn’t even consider it wouldn’t pass. It makes sense when i think about it, considering this state’s nanny-like qualities, but still, i thought this had a chance.

I don’t really give a damn about being able to buy liqour at Safeway for cheaper, or ideals like the government meddling in private affairs. It was going to bust down the three-tier system completely out of state law, and it would have made it so much easier as a brewery for us to distribute our product, whenever it gets to that. There are still much bigger obstacles for us to overcome, but that would have made it easier for us in the long run.

Ah well, it’s not like bottle shops and beer bars have disappeared, there are still plenty of places to get great beer around the city. I mostly make my own these days, anyways.

Condolences to people who enjoy martinis and scotch, though. You still gotta go to the state for your booze needs.

Work it Out

It’s crazy how much work almost becomes a refuge away from your real life. The things you love end up being way more taxing and time-consuming that the ol’ 9 to 5.  I spent both my weekend days doing mostly the crappy work of brewing beer. This entails mostly bottle cleaning and putting said beer in those bottles. As i was skinning my 200th bottle or so, i thought to myself :

“this sucks, but hey, at least I’m only accountable to myself and my own standards.”

it made me smile in the moment, but i almost think it was to fool myself from the drudgery of the work i was doing. work is always gonna be work, no matter what I do to try and get around it. I think that’s what i’ve always though, and why jobs feel so superfluous to me. I can get work done, and after a bit of time of doing the same types of jobs, i can do it super-efficiently. huzzah for you dude.

you know why you work hard and get super efficient though. It’s so you’ll be done with work quicker and you can get around to all those self-enriching, non-destructive things you’d rather be doing than working. Which will bore you eventually if you don’t have a job to get super-efficient at. because being super efficient in your leisure is no way to do it.

that sounds like work.

Binge

For one reason or another, I have been coming here infrequently. Not enough drive. Now I’m coming here about everyother day, even though I don’t really have anything to say. I just feel like saying something, anything. Writing helps categorize my thoughts, even if I haven’t been thinking about much. But if i didn’t come here, i would just observe, observe, observe, and never get anything out of it, because if i don’t reflect on it, then i am just doing it to entertain myself.

which makes sense, i love entertaining myself. I try not to do it at other’s expense, but i can hardly tell the difference anymore. Superiority lingers just below it all, as ridiculous as it always is. Get superior over your self, act bigger than you are. Act less superior in attempts to bridge chasms, while thinking otherwise.

Act one way, think another. Or just not think, your brain can go where it wants, but you don’t have to pay attention. It’s more fun to pay attention to your gut feeling, as uniformed as it may be. I read Blink though, so now I can see how much is informed by all those gut decisions, snap-decisions, and the unconcious.

Also water intake. Being dehydrated is no way to leave your body, and yet i do it everyday with beer and coffee. Oh, such an idiot.

Just came back from the water fountain. I binged hard on that shit in an attempt to rehydrate. I’ll end up urinating most of it out, but it’s the thought that counts, most of it will stick around in my body to try and clean out the damage i do to it on a daily basis. Flush the toxins out!

Given the oppertunity, I will binge. Why bother half-stepping? If you’re going to do something you’ll regret later go whole hog. The funny thing is, as i get older I don’t binge, I try the moderation route ( i chalk it up to wisdom) and i find myself in pretty much the same space as if i had binged, but with less money wasted. My addictive personality loves to binge though, and i get to keep tabs on that, which isn’t so bad.

The struggle with the self, and the acceptance of how ridiculous it is is kinda the core of the conundrum of life. What else do you really have going on inside but a constant struggle to balance the person you are with the person you want to be? Binge on life. oh, snap. there ya go. It sounds born-again, but what the hell, get your binge on. Bingin’ on life.

While I’m at it, i need to design a beer called Binge Drinking Beer. The whole animosity (and rightly so, I suppose) behind binge drinking is ripe for some irony. Binge drinking needs an official beer, I can supply that…just gotta figure out a style.

Binge Stylin’.

I get real smart, and then I stupid up.

Cruise Control

Looks like everything is going just fine. Sailing along very nicely. Nothing but the horizon ahead, with a nearly unlimited view of everything around.

It’s during moments like these that the anxiety sets in. It’s a chronic condition of the life I live. What should I be doing right now that could be more productive, furthering a goal I want to see to completion. Look at everyone else around me, achieving things, why aren’t i more like them? On and on and on, it doesn’t stop. Gotta have some force to push you along though. If i were a little more zen and less into luxury, i could live in my car. Depends on how zen i want to get, i suppose.

If we’re gonna get zen here, this is probably neither the time or the place, but when is it ever? Try and come to terms with keeping my ideas about life and myself evolving, checking it out from different angles, while incorporating myself into it. It’s exhausting work, people.

Anyways, back to my luxury life. I just can’t get over the new Das Racist album, it’s joke rap done almost too well. I listen over and over and keep coming back for more. I wake up in the morning in that half sleep daze turning their verses over in my head, when i just want to sleep. I don’t get it, I feel like this shouldn’t be on such heavy rotation, and yet it is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndnCkUDQFUE

I love music….gimmie more!

Digital Pillow

So you are here. You are here to write something, bring it all together. You have taken in alot of information in the past few months, information you need to process, information you think you can digest without discussing, here or elsewhere.

So the typing stops, and the thinking begins. why are you here again? on first impression, it’s because it’s been a month. you enjoy writing, you enjoy reading, yet you do both so infrequently. as you type this, you are watching something kardashian related, and you are alarmed at this. you turn off the TV, even if it is through the lens of kimmel.

the idea is to show up, and the meaning will reveal itself. the words will start pouring out, because as your inner monologue gets rolling, so too will the ideas. the juicy, meaty stuff that you come for here in the first place. Because you can’t help yourself, this is your refuge. the place where ideas get filtered enough to be placed. unfiltered ideas have no place in this world, they can only be misinterpreted. this is the place where thought goes into said unfiltered ideas, and deeper meaning is pulled out via whatever it is you call a writing voice. your writing voice is so very special to you, it’s the reason you return.

somehow, you can type coherently enough to create a dialogue, coherently enough to create a voice. an amazing, eloquent, narcissistic voice you can read over and over, you beautiful bastard. at this point you dismay about what the point is of this, where the hell you can even go with this type of writing. but it doesn’t matter. you are here, you are expressing.

you come here to scream into your digital pillow.

you smile a little, because it’s OK, the digital pillow comparison is so spot-on. nicely done.

And yet, as bitter as you were when you first came here (or self-loathing) in that small period of time, things have changed. you have talked to someone cool. you have had time to think and process. you have had time to dabble in the things you love because you can’t just go on a typing jag without being interrupted, you live in the digital age.  this journal is only a psuedo-journal, because you have to filter yourself, and you can go find any idea (webpage) that flies into your mind,and continue writing at any point later, as difficult as that is.

digital pillow though, that is pure gold.