Category Archives: Acceptance

Bring It

OK, so here i am. it is totally because i want to just type. i want to let loose and not have to read this damn thing 4 times before i even publish it.

it is pop culture overload. in-between my first viewing of jersey shore and just general junk on late night TV, my mind just imploded on itself. it’s just a symptom though. otherwise, i probably would have just ignored it.

my inner awesome is screaming to get out, so much so that i am willing to half-ass this shit on my dad’s toshiba where i have to go back and rewrite every few words due to my unfamiliarity with the keyboard setup. it’s not what i’m used to.

this life though, this life. apparently, it’s not what i’m used to. this is a ridiculous statement in itself. which is why i’m here. LET IT OUT, and just type shit. it already feels beyond cathartic. i can’t handle it. the idea of holding myself to writing standards feels surreal now, but i have been doing it for almost a year now.

i never held my writing to standards, but learned much from the exercise. it didn’t make it any better though, just more polished. a more polished voice, something that i can throw out there for everyone else to enjoy, and feel like i’m not offending anyone. a voice that has a fantastic edited quality, one that i think fits into a niche. how else could i possibly write? and yet, why else would i come here?

so my voice is my voice. do something with it if you think you can. you think it’s good? maybe throw it out in the public where it can be judged, not just sitting in your insulated world. ugh. it doesn’t matter, you know it doesn’t, that’s why it rides. you already know where you want it to sit, in self-reflective mode. it comes and goes and is where it belongs. semi-public, completely ignored.

then why write? why express? why try? it all just sits here, festering, wondering what purpose it has. and therein lies the contradiction. hang it out to dry on the clothesline to air out, or keep it on the down-low. either way, i am still here. still me, still existing. any way it goes, it ends up me v. myself, and it only matters how i express me to myself. an impossible task.

but why not keep trying?

as ridiculous as it gets, is there really any reason to ever give up?

Still Existing

Ya know, I was suddenly struck to come here for no reason at all. Mostly because I haven’t posted anything in months. mostly because I’m bored.

Ideas are still around, and just in these few sentences, I’m realizing how soothing it is to basically type free-form thoughts straight from my head as opposed to an article i try and craft and have to re-read and edit a couple times. and extreme run-on sentences, i love those. it’s freeing to just use my writing voice, and feeling that it doesn’t need to go anywhere, say anything.

that’s been missing for months. just the idea that no idea can stack up to the importance i try and place on it. breathing a little, laughing, and throwing out a few cliches. as a writer of blogs, it’s what i do best.

it boils down to just doing things occasionally, flexing the muscles you think have atrophied, only to realize you’re an idiot and you do things because of obligations self-imposed or otherwise.

just because it’s inconsequential doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary. sometimes, you just come to grips with things because it seems like more work to pick it apart into its pieces than to just go with it. sometimes, the components are everything. sometimes, they don’t matter.

everytime, it really just depends on how i’m feeling that day.

Rad

Hi there, poor neglected bloggie. being left out in the cold over here for that side project hussy I have going on right now that takes up all my writing time. Don’t worry though, i only treat you so because i know you’ll always be there for me. because i have to write as myself, and i need a place to throw out everything that i’m trying to process. projects aren’t the best place to diary, although it does make it more interesting.

so here we are. me feeling like i need to write something out, partly due to free time, partly due to the need to write. it comes down to a thought that i had a few days ago, while driving to work.

i have all over my life little reminders that say “I am rad”. the background of my computer, my phone, and then just various other things that remind me that i am indeed, rad. but it flipped in my head suddenly, and it just became “be rad”.

a multitude of interpretations came flying into my head. why all of the sudden this idea? has it really been the message i’ve been trying to get across to myself this entire time? by focusing on me, does it inadvertently project on to others, or do i need to do the legwork involved with outward projection? why not just be rad, instead of telling myself i am?

i feel like it’s been the object the entire time, but i never told myself that’s what it was. so apparently the big importance is in the framing. why does it make me feel uneasy, and a little more existential crisisy? this idea has just sat there at my core, interpreted as being self-grandiose, but with justification due to my actions of being rad. That idea is still in there certainly, but it is not so much the knowing of the idea, but of putting it into action. the difference lies in the action.

which is probably the “why” of the uneasiness. the war in your character between caring and not caring, of action and inaction. life is amazing because of action, because of what you put into it. good or bad, this action is what makes your life worth living. it leaves an impact on you and others directly influenced, and leaves an impression, forcing you and others to process the meaning. it creates what you are as a person.

inaction is a necessary otherside to this duality, but is not as glamorous. where action is bold, inaction is timid. where action is adventure, inaction is safety. and on and on. the yin and yang of a big part of being a conscious being, and a part of a society that dictates the norms. My propensity for action or inaction directly stems from what i think of as free will. my ability to decide to care or not is about all i have to make me, me. the thing is, that infers control of some kind, which conflicts with another idea packed in there that i have no control. not really. not that i believe there’s such a thing as fate, that we’re all just hapless bystanders.

the idea is more that control or not, it doesn’t matter. if you feel like you don’t want control, go ahead and relinquish it. if you feel like you have control, go ahead and do it. i’m just sitting at the cross roads, sitting down, unable to make a decision. is the inability to make a decision like this being active or inactive though?

but like i said, it doesn’t matter. i may talk big talk about processing ideas, but at the center of each one of them is “you know, it doesn’t really matter”,  the totally existential catch-all where you just say you’re gonna end up dead anyways, and it doesn’t matter. which as far as i know, is completely true. but i don’t completely accept it, otherwise i would just do whatever i wanted, because i’m sure not gonna care when i’m dead. that unfeeling void is there though, deep in the heart of darkness. it just is. and i do everything i can to take it in stride, to be the person i think i can be, despite the futility of it all. considering the idea that it doesn’t matter anyways, it surely doesn’t matter if I want to distract myself in the meantime.

what strikes me, is that in this void, there is no truth. as far as i can tell, truth is a concept developed by humans, for humans. there has to be an ability to tell what is true from what is false in day to day life, and there needs to be some guidelines to adhere to. but there is no truth in the void, it just is.

i don’t know if my compassion and empathy and the general essence of me stems from defiance of what is at this core. that big, black void that doesn’t beckon or seduce me, it’s just there in absolute neutrality. i make decisions based on a whole lot i don’t understand, but have decided to care about due to mostly societal factors. and why not. there aren’t too many other yardsticks lying around here and my dopamine reactions to situations is as good as anything else.

so that brings me back to that previous idea, that there is control. i control what i care about, hence what makes me as a person, with  refraction of my ideas bounced off of others that i choose, given back to me and anyone else who wants to pay attention. it really doesn’t matter, unless i want it to.

i think that’s it. instead of thinking i’m standing up to the void by staring into it and saying “i am rad” as if i’m something special, i can look upon it in all it’s uncaring and uncertain majesty and tell myself “be rad”. therein lies my choice, my modicum of control in the swirl of chaos.

be rad.

Brain Pout

Life at the speed of action. There is something missing from my normal brain activity, some deficiency of something or other. Life is barrelling along so fast that i am just caught on the wave without any real time to think, only to act/react.

My brain doesn’t want to react, it is just sitting in the corner pouting, only wishing to be left alone. not even using treats can really coax it out, because the treats don’t hold any value. Nothing relly feels like it has value right now, positive or negative. These things just are. Objects among other objects, without any qualities with which to judge, things that just are.

Things become incomprehensible now, and ruminations of borderline depression set in. but that’s just another object, with defineable physical qualities but no soul, no substance.

There just always seems so much to do that accomplishes so little. Although that’s hardly fair. “Little” is pretty subjective there. I guess just the ratio of how much input i feel i’m putting in according to my life experience parameters to how much i’m getting out.

the economics of scale in terms of the metaphysical. a cold, cold way to think. of course it’s going to lead to annoyance.

Off the Grid

This weekend, i have this whole itinerary where I’m biking from work to my parent’s house to a beer fest, and then back to my parents house, because i wanted to do a little training for the STP and this is a practical way to go about it. save a little gas money in the meantime, as well.

I totally forgot my phone at home today,and won’t be getting it back until sometime late tomorrow. It’s kind of liberating. People are going to try and get ahold of me and think I’m a total jerk for not getting back to them immediately. More likely, no one is actually going to try and get ahold of me, as everyone leads busy weekends in the summer.

I kinda love doing shit like this though. It’s not like i can’t come to the internet, or have access to phones in other places i go. It’s just inconvenient enough to get ahold of me now. the ball’s in my court now, i will be getting a hold of YOU when i damn well feel like it.

what a time we live in! i have expectations of instant gratification in every aspect of my life. it’s nice to pull back from that for a moment or two, and realize just how silly it is sometimes. what’s not important will soon become not-important again, and life will carry on.

Ex

So this is part of my punishment, i suppose. having an idea, a fully-fleshed idea ready to go, and then forgotten. it had something to do with starting with “Ex”. Exaltation, extension, expensive, it doesn’t matter. As important as that idea may have seemed at the time, this one takes it’s place. you forgot a seemingly important idea. despite how important that first one may have been, aren’t you here now because of it? and aren’t you now expressing said idea inferiorly?

good job idiot, this is the life you live. just the thought of leaving this thought unedited leaves you happy. it would be incomprehensible. you’re not that drunk, but typing takes focus, and you’re too mad at yourself to do so properly. the filters you have in place at least take up enough space to keep you from doing this raw.

the conception was a good thought though, and hopefully, you can find your way back to it.

this does not bode well for your ideal self though, typed in words that are socially acceptable. true definitions are not beyond you, but are beyond what you are willing to expose to those who may discover who you are.

it feels like bullshit to type in code, but at the same time, it makes you think. the thought strikes you though: really this is stupid all-around, and anyone hoping to get anything out of this beyond yourself  is getting what they paid for.

now get back to rememberin’. who else is it going to do any good for?

Stevie Wonder

How do i get this far in my life and not get exposed to certain things?

I got my hands on Songs in the Key of Life and listened to it while i was helping heather with some crafty-work. I couldn’t believe it, i just couldn’t. All i ever hear is reverence for Stevie, but i’ve really only heard a few of his singles like “I just called to say I love you” and “Isn’t she lovely”. I pounded this album and wanted more, it was mind blowing. The way this album listens, it almost sounds like a greatest hits compilation. I also had no idea that Coolio straight jacked everything but the lyrics to Gangsta’s paradise from Stevie. This album contains everything i love about music.

Which brings me back to the original question i posed at the beginning of this post, and the answer is obvious. It’s because discovering things like this and appreciating it on your terms is what makes your life wonderful. Finding culture, new or old, and realizing something you hadn’t before. The timing behind finding something and integrating it just has to happen naturally, but that drive to find things and stay open is the part that takes work.

You stay open because the reward can be something shining like this, something beyond anything you ever expected.

Of course being that open inevitably leads to posts like the previous one.

It’s worth it though, it’s so worth it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. It wouldn’t be worth the bother.

Overdrive

a quick note to self before getting to the topic at hand: filthy beers had it’s first semi-public tasting and did a bang up job, and even though it’s been going on for a year, it feels like things are finally starting. and now back to said topic.

It may have been being sick for the past month, it may be a shift in the moon’s gravity, it might be a slight switch in brain chemistry. Whatever it is, i feel like i’m in overdrive. I want to go out and be interacting with people and life at every moment of everyday. I feel like my creative juices and mental acuity are at the highest highs they’ve had in awhile. i feel like i should be striking while the iron is hot.

i’m busy all the time, but i want to be, it feels exhilarating. i’m flirting very closely with the line of too-many-things-syndrome, but i feel the most purposeful i have in a long time. it’s directed at beer, friends, family, life. i want to be out there in it, interacting, doing.

this happens occasionally, but i feel like i’m gearing up my mind and body to really make a go of it in the brewing game. because if i want to be successful at it, i’m going to have to be running at this pace all the time, no foolin’. it’s a strange mindset of truly knowing failure is not an option. not in the sense of the phrase where it’s do or die, but in the sense that nothing is going to stop me.

apparently, if i can direct it properly and justify it to myself, i am a force to be reckoned with. fingers crossed.

I Exist In A World Of My Creation

A way of life?

A subjective idea?

A bitchin’ band name?

A what-you-think-is-clever written expression?

All are possible. Everything is possible. Jesus, why not. Nothing crazy, nothing out-of-the-ordinary, just weeks of regular life cumulating. What do you expect? You think things are out of your control ALL  the time, and when that idea tries to rear its ugly head itself, you point and laugh. It proved its existence by trying not to exisit. and your brain hurts a little. maybe more than a little.

so you try and tip the scales by mentally rejecting this. You compare this to receiving the Rikisihi Stink Face from life. Bound to happen, but now you associate it with a pseudo-sumo wrestler’s ass with your face, getting rubbed in by hyperbolic announcers. you grew up with this, it makes too much sense. all you know is this is something to avoid, as far as you know.

but maybe getting over the stink face is the accepting. But the idea of it happening is too well-established in your subconscious. Scotty-2-Hottie and Grandmaster Sexay point and laugh while you get the stink face. and that’s the bridge too far.

god, that show was ridiculous. there is no defense for watching professional wrestling. no defense besides the pure joy of surrendering to that which is so understandable.

so it comes full-circle. there is no defense. but you know that’s not true because there’s always a defense. Life is such. Yin to yang, idiot. So why the title? why does it ring so true?

(surrender)

why not?

(surrender)

nice point, idiot. that is a really good title.

Right Now

That last one, i pasted and i didn’t want to transcribe it. it’s not a very pertinent entry anyways, so i have to highlight it to read it, it’s kinda funny that way.

I just wanted to check in here and just write a little, because of the comfort the typing brings me. I’m working surprisingly hard on my hip-hop project, and anytime that i set aside for writing pretty much goes to that. Only two weeks in, and already neck deep. It’s too much fun though, melding my writing voice with some guidelines. that’s why i wanted to come here, for that beautiful free-associating quickness where you can bang it out and not really go back and read it again. I just look at the posts and don’t think i’ve been putting up enough.

Funnily enough, my wife passed along that macklemore thing i wrote to the man himself, and he liked it. I can imagine why, but still, that was a little surreal to me. I post things here knowing they could be read by anyone, but at the same time, I don’t go broadcasting the fact that i do have a blog, and have had one for damn near a decade.

that’s some crazy shit. I’ve been doing this for 10 years coming up this summer. Right before 9/11, back when i tried to act like i didn’t know it all, but still felt i did. boy has that changed. not because of 9/11 though, just the passage of time.

i get more comfortable with me each passing day, whether i experience new things or the same old shit. as long as I’m thinking, my mind will change.

the whole adage of age being just a number makes more sense to me now. in that deep resonating way, not the surface way. 30 is not old, not young, it’s a number.

kinda like me.