My life is the great-unfinished novel that everyone
clamors for when it is finished. But unfortunately it keeps going along,
travels from page to page, dangling maddeningly in front of me. The kind of
thing that you can’t see right in front of your own nose but everyone else
stops to point it out and ask you exactly how it came to get there. It’s none
of their business of course, but people are naturally
nosy and if they see something that wasn’t there before they’re innately
curious and even if they don’t go so far as to stop and ask the person how it
got there, they will certainly wonder about it, and might even talk about it to
their friends back home. I saw the most curious thing today they might say, and
they’d be correct, as everything out of the ordinary is curious. But what is
the ordinary? Is the ordinary a completely non-changing state where you find
everything exactly as you left it? That would be completely bizarre, but
unfortunately that is how people perceive it without even thinking about it. Things
are expected to stay calm and under control, otherwise folks worry. They like
things to stay exactly the way they are now so they don’t get jolted by a big
dose of reality in the morning. “Sure is cold”, they say, but what they’re
really saying is that it wasn’t cold yesterday, so it’s amazing that it’s cold
today. I fully expected things to stay exactly the way they are now because
that’s the way I like it. And when it’s cold more than one day in a row, the
phrase it’s cold outside takes on a different meaning, than it becomes it sure
is cold outside. I wish it would go back to being not cold because that is
normal. In other words normal is also what people feel most comfortable with,
but I already said that in so many words. Or did I? I don’t know. Do you feel
comfortable with me saying that? We have a strict line to follow they say. If
you don’t follow that line dire consequences will happen. We’d lock up the
weather and never let it out if we could. It’s damnable enough that it has to
go around being cold all the time. I hate the cold I wish it would just be as
warm and sunny and nice as it always is. The cold is a freakish thing that I
hate and detest. Room temperature may well be heaven on earth if you believe
that line of reasoning. So expect the unexpected. Don’t be surprised when
someone dies at 27. He had to make room for the man who died at 105 so as to
make room for a median age of death at 75. In other words, some people live
longer than 75 and some people live shorter. That’s why it’s called an average.
The people who die at exactly at 75 aren’t average. They are the ones who are
abnormal.
Day 2
What a screeching accident I saw today. The cars
jolted this way and that to try and avoid each other, but in the end
catastrophe struck, and the two cars that were on a collision course with each
other were unable to avoid meeting with enough force to dislodge all temporary
attachments from their respective cars. Each car contained one driver each,
both of whom were completely unprepared for their perfectly timed day to be
interrupted by anything other than surprisingly long traffic signals, and a
line at the gas station. The shock of what had happened dismayed both
passengers to no small end, and their brains were temporarily thrown into
disorder as their next formulated thoughts were chaotic, and ideas of what to
do were created, pondered upon and tossed away in a matter of seconds. In the
end, both persons eventually got out of their cars, with the first merely to
walk around and bemoan his tragic fate in an exasperated fashion, and the
second to survey the damage closely and wonder how much it would cost to
repair. “Why did you do this to me?” asked the first, who believed implicitly
that a great wrong to wellbeing had been done. The second, merely trying to
make the best of a bad situation, stated that he was very sorry and had done
everything possible to avoid striking him with his vehicle. This answer did
little to appease the first who walked around angrily, looking at nothing in
particular, while lighting a cigarette, and taking a few puffs, before echoing
a string of expletives. Then the police were called by the first, while the
second, whose head was still pounding with dismay and threatening to cease
functioning, could think of nothing better to do than to get back inside his
battered shell of a car, quiver silently to himself, and hope that nothing
worse happened. People who were traveling by this area, with every good
intention of going elsewhere, quickly became onlookers, and either slowed their
movements, or stopped entirely to ask what happened. Later still, policemen
arrived, blame was assessed, and tickets were issued with a promise to appear
in court. The first was upset that he had to appear in court at all, but seemed
confident that a judge’s decision would go his way. The second, by this time,
merely wanted to be done with the whole matter, and was in a hurry to try and
forget about the whole thing. The police thanked them, and told them to have a
nice day, before shooing all the onlookers away, getting in their transport
vehicles and departing. Then the first and the second, satisfied that the
matter at hand was over, determined that their cars were drive-able, so they
got in them, started the engines up again, and were off, spare parts dragging,
and wires sparking as they went.
Day 3
How boring life is when no end is in sight. When
there is no light at the end of the tunnel, and none even theoretically nearby,
why would you even bother walking further? Instead you would most likely sit
down for long stretches of time, ponder how you got into this predicament, and
fiddle around in your pockets for a stick of gum. If no gum was to be found you
might even examine the lint found in your jacket pocket and see what kind of
shapes you could stretch it to. If this happened then it would be quite obvious
that you would be entering the first stages of doldrums. Doldrums are extremely
boring times multiplied to the nth degree by the number of interesting things
you have to do (usually zero). Once you enter doldrums it’s very hard to get
out of them by yourself. Usually an outside circumstance, such as a person or
happenstance, must occur to get you out of it. There is only a certain amount
of times that you can twiddle your thumbs before they will break off entirely.
Try it and see - it is guaranteed that you won’t find it to be a pleasant
circumstance. Ever lose a roadmap and try to navigate to the location you were
trying to get to before by sheer force of will or determination? I thought not.
It’s most unlikely that you can arrive at a location further away than across
the street if you have never been there before and have no definite idea how to
get there. If you somehow through incredible luck managed to arrive at this
location, how would you know if you were there? Would you depend on the
road-signs to guide you there? Would you ask the next person you stopped to
talk to at a gas station? What would be the most interesting thing you could
buy at the gas station to while away your time? If this interesting thing was a
food item, then it wouldn’t keep you entertained for long, only during
intervals at stoplights where your hands, which should have both been placed on
the steering wheel, would now be free to grab the food item and place it in your
mouth at will. If you had a traveling companion, then they could put the food
in your mouth for you while you are driving. But if you had a companion your
chances of both reaching your destination and being entertained would greatly
increase, unless of course you hated your companion. But if you hated your
companion, why would they be in the car in the first place? Only if they were
in the car against your will could this unusual arrangement occur. If you ever
do manage to get to a location that you’ve never been to before, but that is
further away than across the street without the aid of a friend, a map, or a
clue, then let me know and I’ll come running to ask you about it. That is, I’ll
be there if I can figure out how to get to your house – I’ve never been there.
Day 4
I saw someone today that I hadn’t expected to see.
When I say that, I mean that I haven’t seen this person in quite some time. I
was taken aback to put it mildly. I wasn’t horrified. I wasn’t in shock terror.
I was glad to see him, and I wasn’t disappointed that he became fat. After all,
when I saw him last he was thin. Who am I to say that a person can’t change how
they are since the last time I’ve seen them. In fact we should be quite happy
when we chance upon an old friend, which is what this person was, who has
changed since you’ve seen them last. Look at their change as a sign of
progression in their life, which almost anyone will agree is better than
stagnation or regression. If they have regressed, that’s fine too, because then
you can pride yourself on the fact that while you have retained much of your
youthful vigor and good looks, they’ve gained a potbelly and have started chain
smoking. Unfortunately since this person is your friend, you can’t in good
nature point out how much they’ve changed since they might get offended. If
they get offended does that really matter? Since you hadn’t seen this person in
a while and probably haven’t talked or written in quite some time, and since it
didn’t matter to you how they were before this point, how much does the opinion
of someone whom you may very well not see for several more years really matter
to you? Remember how they were before in their prime, when they made you laugh
and they wore funny hats. Remember your friends. Sometimes they may be all you
have left. You can’t keep but so many friends in good company. So don’t make
the mistake of having the ones you really appreciate turn out to be the people
you see on occasion and are surprised to see. To have friends you must show
yourself friendly. It’s an old and oft repeated adage, but like most things
that stand to be repeated, it is repeated for a reason. The reason is because
it is so. What you reap is what you sow, and vice versa. A man with many
friends is a man to be. So pick your friends well. Pick them on the basis of
love and companionship. Don’t pick friends out of convenience; these might be
the friends that will stab you in the back when it comes time for the promotion
at work. To those reading these words, I wish you all the best of luck in
finding friends that you can talk to, and appreciate you for who you are, not
how much money they can borrow from you, or what you will do for them. Don’t
make friends on the basis of favors. The favors owed can become like a debt to
be paid between you, and when it’s time to pay up, it might test your
friendship. A strong friendship can withstand any trouble, and one that cannot
was no good in the first place. Be careful with your friends, you never know
how long they will last.
Day 5
When you are walking, be sure to notice your
surroundings. There’s nothing worse than someone who lives in complete and
utter ignorance of their surroundings. Stop to notice the beauty of the
sunshine above you, the street-sign with the crack on it that you never noticed
before. Pay attention. This will serve you well in whatever capacity your life
may take you, and wherever that is, chances are very good that you will be
walking there too. Life is a journey taken one step at a time, and if when you
reach the end of that journey you turn around to see where you’ve been and you
can’t remember a thing because you didn’t pay attention, then did it really
happen? Paying attention can save your life. You never know when you will have
to duck a tree or another object that life hurls at you. Noticing your
surroundings is sharing the beauty of the world that God has created, while
focusing on yourself is selfishness. These things are only suggestions designed
to improve your life. Take time to pay attention to whatever you are doing,
whether it be school, work, or play. Very few people look back at the
halfway-completed job they have just done and say to themselves that they are
very proud of what they have accomplished. Don’t be a quitter. Just keep
walking. Have patience. Take your time. Learn to appreciate things you are
given and don’t throw them away. There’s more to this world than you can ever
hope to learn in thousands of lifetimes, but you can still miss it all if you
don’t pay attention to any of it. On the other hand, if you intend to
accomplish nothing with yourself, then by all means give everything a
halfhearted attempt before you say, “I am finished with this thing. It has
beaten me.” Move on to the next thing and let it defeat you too. Life is a
serious of trials and errors that if you run through may prove to be cold and
heartless defeats. When you walk through things slowly the odds are in your
favor that if a thing can be solved and it is within you to solve it, then it
will be solved. The journey is in the walk, and the walk is in the journey.
What you did to arrive at your destination is more important than if you got
there or not. I’m going to watch the falling leaves, falling off the trees. I’m
going to watch the sun come down and touch the moon. Watch me and find out how
I got there.
Day 6
The thoughts of one young man ran away from him as
quickly as raindrops can trickle off a rooftop. He had just returned home from
a day at school, and had just been given his progress report by his teacher.
With a handful of good grades sure to secure his mothers affection for yet
another day, he was bound and determined to ask for that new bike for
Christmas. He didn’t want a big bike, or a fancy 10-speed which he really
didn’t think he needed anyway (but he sure thought they were cool), he just
wanted a plain old red bike of some kind that he’d seen at the store, and
preferably one without training wheels. He was quite sure his mother would give
in to this request, especially after seeing the a-minus he’d managed to pull
off in writing class. He really did have a time getting those curly s’s to fit
inside those nice tight black lines on his practice writing sheets. He had also
recently decided that he was a big boy now and was through with training wheels
for now. He could already ride his old bike so fast that the training wheels
didn’t even seem to be touching the ground! So, waving goodbye to his friends
in the school bus he opened the front of his house and came inside yelling,
“Mom come here and look what I got!” No one was visible in the front hall, or
the kitchen, so he went off to his parent’s bedroom to see what was the matter.
Inside the bedroom were a few doctors, and his father, who were all huddled
closely next to his mom who lay resting on her bed while holding a brand new
baby in her arms. He had never seen anything like this. It seemed completely
unusual and strange. “A new brother or sister”, he thought. What a foreign
concept it seemed to him. His mother had said someone new would be coming into
the house, but he hadn’t really given it too much thought, but now this new
person was right here in front of him. He stood there in the doorway silent for
a good minute or two not really wanting to disrupt anything and trying not to
frighten the baby. No one noticed him for a minute either, but when they did,
they invited him inside with a smile. He walked inside the room slowly, and
said hello to the doctors. They offered their hands to him to shake and he
accepted. Then one of them said to his mother, “How about letting him cut the
cord?” His father took this as a call to action, and taking his son by the arms
led him right over to the baby. “Meet your new sister”, his father said. “Isn’t
she beautiful?” The boy couldn’t agree more, but was confused when the doctors
handed him a small pair of scissors similar to the ones found in his parents
bathroom right next to the Q-Tips. “Go on”, they assured him, as his mother
held her new daughter proudly up in the air. A long strange pinkish tube was
attached to the little girl and it stretched on down beneath the sheets where
his mother was sitting. He slowly reached out his hands, and with one small
stroke of his fingertips clipped the cord in half. Blood issued out of the tube
and the boy was concerned, unsure of what he had just done. “No it’s okay,”
they told him. “He thinks he hurt her,” the doctors said to his mother. It was
all so wonderful, the boy couldn’t remember a thing about why he had come into
the room, and he just sat there watching his new sister, until he was asked to
leave.
Day 7
The boy was having a party and everyone was going to
come. It was going to be great. He could see the festivities in his mind.
Frankie was going to be there. That Frankie, he was a wild kid, always ready to
crack a joke or a few heads. His mother didn’t think too much of Frankie but
she valued friendships for her son so he was allowed to come. Fritz was next in
line to be invited. He was the type of boy that every mother wanted her son to
be friends with; he was very polite and well mannered, he never really got into
much trouble and he was on the straight A honor list at school. Fritz however
had a knack for thinking of fun, rambunctious things to do, once you got him
away from his studies that is. Rachel was the girl that lived next door. She
was very pretty, but also very quiet and shy. She didn’t have a lot of friends,
but due to her proximity to the party she had been invited so as not to hurt
her feelings. “And who knows”, the parental reasoning went, “maybe it’ll be good
for my boy to have a proper lady around.” The boy didn’t think so of course,
but he never liked going against anything his mother suggested strongly, as it
could lead to I told you so’s, and constant nagging. Nagging, oh how he hated
his mother’s nagging. It was enough to make him want to beat his head into the
bathroom wall. In fact one time he did do such a thing and it left a small dent
on the apparently soft plastered wall. His parents never saw the dent, or at
least if they did they never made mention of such a thing to him. And that was
quite all right, because he did many things that he hoped his parents would
never discover. He was sure to receive a whooping if they ever found out who
shot that squirrel and put its body on top of the neighbor’s car. One of the
parents from across the street came over and accused him of doing it, but his
parents defended him vehemently, and the boy said that he did not do it, so the
matter was closed. He would go to any length to avoid getting a whooping,
including setting up a scene to make it look like his baby brother had knocked
over something while playing. It was always easy to blame things on the baby.
After all, he could never defend himself. All he could do was sit in his high
chair, wave his hands around in the air happily and spit. It was a perfect
method – neither child received punishment. They didn’t believe their oldest
son ever did anything wrong if he blamed it on his brother, and they would just
wipe up any spills the younger child made. This would all change at the big
party. It was going to be great. Everyone was going to be there.
Day 8:
What a time everyone was having. The picnic was in
full swing. Everyone that was anyone was attending. The Schultz’s family was
there, the Martins, the Higbees, even the Jeffersons stopped in to see what was
happening. It was certainly a gala event of the highest order. There was a pie
eating tournament that ran ‘round the clock with new contestants every
half-hour. There was a sack race for the children eight years of age and
younger. There was a cake-walk where people could win cakes if the number they
were standing on was called when music stopped playing. Everyone was delighted
that the whole community could finally be together and put this violence behind
them. They all tried to forget, at least for a while, about the child that had
been kidnapped, beaten and raped in their very own neighborhood just four short
months ago. A local fellow who had been described as being very kind and
whimsical had committed this despicable act. He liked blowing up balloon
animals for the kids who would take their new treasures home with them to show
to their parents. He’d lived on twelve cypress avenue for about fifteen years,
according to the oldest reckoning of a local official, and during that time
he’d never done anything harmful to anyone that would cause people to suspect
that they shouldn’t trust him around their children. People were tight lipped
in town and didn’t like talk much, but whenever something important happened they
would spread rumors amongst themselves. It was in this way that they began to
suspect the man that no one talked to, of this most heinous crime. They thought
it was terrible the way he was just enjoying himself at the party since it was
obvious to all concerned parties that he was an as yet not captured criminal.
The Higbees tried not to look at him as he passed, shielding their children
from seeing his face. The Martins, upon seeing the man approach their general
direction, turned and went the opposite direction towards the sack race.
Everything would have gone along smoothly if it were not for the haughtiness of
Mrs. Jefferson who spit in his face and called him an “evil, evil man.” He
openly wept and drove away in his car leaving the partygoers to wonder if they
were right for condemning the man with no reasonable evidence.
Day 9:
Don’t expect things to always work out for you
exactly how you planned. This is easy to write, and easier still to say, but
despite this, there are still people who believe that through some great step
by step organizational process they can coerce facets of their life to move
along smoothly just as they intended it to. This can never be so. Unless you
are in direct control of the details of an operation, you can never be sure
that the operation will be one hundred percent successful. People don’t always
react exactly how you might expect them to. No matter how well you think you
know someone, the slightest deviation of your expected path according to that
other person may produce tragic results. Whether or not the results are
permanently or only semi-permanently tragic are largely up to you. Only if you
can convince the people that you don’t directly control of how much sense your
intentions make and what you meant, will your intended plan have any effect.
Until then you’ll be just another man babbling along the avenue whistling to
himself unable to change the world around himself in any way and forced to take
handouts from strangers just to eat lunch at the nearest fast food restaurant.
Some people completely give up on planning their life. This is for quitters and
should not be practiced by people who have any zest for life whatever.
Jellyfish friends are the kind that just drift along – wherever life takes them
is okay with them. Just like the jellyfish, these friends can sting you without
realizing it. So, find out what you want. You will almost always have to work
through people to reach your destination, so learn how to work with people, how
to communicate your ideas to and through them. Being scared of expressing
yourself to those around you is a sad, sad state. Learn to love. Learn to
rejoice in creation. Be free. Remember that inside everyone is sad to some
varying degree, many people are just clever at hiding it that’s all.
Day 10
I
often worry that I have nothing important to say or that my thoughts and
concerns and feelings will be devoid of any interest to the world. It is at
times like this that I am usually tired and feeling sorry for myself for
whatever reason. It may have been because I was tired of trying an endeavor
that didn’t work for me, or I had attempted to get involved in something
without even knowing where to begin being involved with it at. Such is the
unfortunate life of the creative who don’t know how to market themselves. We
find letter writing to editors confusing and hope that we can find someone to
send something to that won’t end up getting thrown out with the rest of the
garbage within minutes of arriving in the mail. I often think that the world is
too big to get anyone to notice me that will pay me for anything. I secretly
feel jealous of those who happen to be in the right place at the right time to
get noticed for something that they did which really wasn’t so special at all,
it just happened to impress the right person. I feel that life can be a hard
thing when you try to go in too many directions at once. You may never figure
out where you are headed and will confuse yourself endlessly. This can only
result in sadness and frustration unless you succeed in leaning on God’s
understanding. Only he can help guide you in the trials and pitfalls of life.
Only he will listen to your pain and secret tears and hold you close. Only by
living in his strength can you overcome your weakness. He created the world. He
can create a bright future for you. You must believe. I do so want to believe.
I want to see the results that may be inches away or they may be miles away.
It’s just hard to comprehend. The future is a scary place to visit. I don’t
know if I would want to live there.
Day 11
Saying the right things to the right people can
always be a problem. Life can be moving along smoothly in the direction that
you hoped that it always would when all of a sudden out of your mouth come
words that visibly upset the person you were just talking to. It doesn’t matter
how well you know, or think you know this person, your thoughts are not linked
to the same brain, so when you say something that they weren’t expecting it may
trouble them. If you notice something is wrong when you are talking to someone
and you don’t immediately ask them about it, it could settle in the back of
their minds for days, weeks, and even years. If this person you are talking to
is a girl, then she may store this new opinion she has of you away for future
reference, and completely deny that anything is wrong. Why are things denied
when they are obvious? What’s wrong with the world in general when people can’t
speak the things they mean for fear of being misunderstood?
Day 12
Johnny was having that dream again. You know, the
one where you just lay back with your eyes closed, body outstretched, dangling
up in the clouds. You just float away, and let the warm breeze take you where
it will. The sunshine heats up your stomach and gives you a toasty feeling
inside like nothing else can. There’s no more cares or worries in the world.
All you do is relax and enjoy the moment; and the next moment and the next.
They’re all the same, and it doesn’t matter because it feels so good. Just
think that this must be how cats feel all the time when they lay in the sun for
hours at a time, blissfully unaware of the world around them. Cats don’t have a
care in the world and if they nap for five hours straight during the day when
the rest of the world toils, then it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters when you
feel as good as if you were a babe again in your mother’s arms, rocking gently
back and forth among the cumulous clouds. Why would you ever want to leave such
a position of pure ecstacy? To remove you from a feeling like this would be
akin to criminal action. “Don’t wake the sleeping baby”, people often say
because they enjoy the angelic way babies look when they are sleeping. People
are even jealous of the position of a child – having everyone look after you and
care for you. It is an enviable position, but working hard is it’s own reward.
However hard work is rewarding at the end of the day and peaceful gentle sleep
is rewarding throughout the entire period of time that you are involved in such
an activity. “If a man does not work he does not eat”, John Smith said,
paraphrasing the Bible, and this is true, but who would want to be a man if
this was so? Certainly some would like to remove themselves from that category
altogether and be something entirely different. Mankind is always trying to
re-invent itself to distance itself from the rest of the people that it looks
at and deems average. Don’t be lazy. Don’t be content. Don’t be average. But if
the time comes that you are able to enjoy yourself just as in Johnny’s dream,
take advantage of it, it is a gift and a respite from the anguish of life. Let
no one deny you this chance for pure motionless heaven, as it makes all your
hard work seem all the more worthwhile. Eat of life. Breathe it. Don’t spit
yourself out, or cut yourself short. When you are tired and lonely, just think
of Johnny and what awaits you when you dream.
Day 13
She was the most beautiful thing ever seen by the
face of the Heaven’s, a girl surely graced with an angel’s touch. She could do
no wrong, and yet she thought she was so flawed. Every inch of her body she
magnified all out of proportion. Her skin was like soft rose petals, so sweet,
so gentle. I wanted to show her the world, to lift her up to a place where no
one else could touch her. But all she wanted was to turn away, to laugh, and
pretend that the world wasn’t an ugly place waiting to harm her. Secretly she
wished that she were ugly so that she could be left alone. I weep openly for
her, hoping against hope that I may one day be able to dry her tears. Such wit
she possessed. How smart she was. Perceiving the world with a slight smile and
a cock of the head. She always knew what was afoot, but would very seldom
comment on it. She could read the future, but wanted no part of it – the present
was good enough, and was all that was needed. The future is the enemy of the
present, it tears away, rips away what happiness we now possess and replaces it
with a murky idea of something to come, something that may or may not come. In
the future, she is no more. There is no more idealism. Youth has lost its’ joy,
it’s boundlessness. For every leap of hope there is a crashing weight that
reminds you what truly surrounds you, what transpires to keep your dreams
scattered from you. Push on as you may she will allude you, your great hope for
the future will remain as a fleeting ghost. Your life will remain standing
still. Your visions will remain just that, and there you will stand, with a
gnawing empty pain inside you wishing for more. When you wake up from this
horrible dream, you must understand that it is all not fantasy, that it is all
not real, in fact it was real – but no more. Playing with shadows is a sure way
to allude anything the present has to offer you. Don’t be afraid to ride the
waves to wherever they may take you. Wave goodbye to the shore. You won’t be
missed. You won’t be sorry. You’ll just awake and continue your journey, and
she will be gone forever. A time lost in a place that you can no longer go to.
You can revisit in your mind as often as you like, but you will find that you
lose track of the details with each visit. Eventually the fantastic is better
than the reality ever was. She lives. She breathes. She walks. She is a pure,
lovely, shimmering dream of hope.
Day 14
The days drag on and on. Time lingers then passes as
if making up its mind about what to do with the world. A dark cloud gathers
then goes away as if to dismiss itself and make room for happy clouds and light
rain. The room spins round and round if you don’t make a sound. Could you be
happier that way? Would you like it if I stayed? Could you possibly be any less
dense? Can you engage in conversation that doesn’t have to do with idiocy? It’s
fitting in a way; having to deal with the inner demons that battle for a brief
moment of your time. Your body is controlled by your mind, yet if not properly
harnessed by sleep, good nutrition and exercise can almost behave as if it is
behaving of its own accord. You move but you don’t feel it. Where is the joy in
that? Where is the living? Why is it that every single moment of every single
part of your life can’t be all wonderful and happy? Why do we as people digress
over the minutia of life and not focus overall on the bigger picture of life
and see it for the wonderful thing it is? I suppose we’re all stupid in a way,
running around like chickens with our heads cutoff. Our brains our out of our
heads, but we don’t realize it yet. Sometimes we work too much to do anything
but come home and go to sleep again. We miss the little things that pass by. We
don’t stop to contemplate anything anymore, we just miss the dreary
substanceless life that is constant sleep – a joyous state of having to do
nothing for at least a few hours, which must be better than doing something
that involves long hours of work. Work for what? Work to live? To survive? Or
to actually progress and make something of life, of yourself. What is work
then, if not life itself? What is life if not work? Can we make anything out of
nothing if we don’t work at it? No. Effort is a good thing. It effectively
removes us from animals, who even when they work don’t seem to use much effort.
I know many animals try and try constantly to achieve an unachievable dream,
but just remember many of them are killed while crossing the street. The clouds
overhead swirl. The rains fall down. The sun shines afterwards. Another day is
dawning. All the ice is thawing. The old man is probably still snoring. He is
out of work. He has achieved something beyond the life of the normal man, but
is he living? Is he truly living? Has he learned something that we have not, or
has he realized a state of grace granted on those who can’t work anymore, and
are as such put out of life? For does not work make us appreciate what little
life we have left?
Day 15
Do what you love. Period. Don’t worry about what
other people say. They’re too busy worrying about the fact that they missed out
opportunities to do things in their lives, and now they’re stuck behind a desk
measuring things and answering phones to keep that nice house, and the shiny
car, and the trophy wife that they have a meaningless relationship with. Some
people do things to preserve their “quality of life”. I think this term quality
of life is a fictional term that people adopt to guard against losing anything
in their life. They are in fact greedy. People are hogs. Pigs. It’s too bad
that they are usually too afraid to stretch out and take a risk at something
that just might make them happy. Money can’t buy you love. Love can’t guarantee
money. Live for what you do. Money only supports what you do. Don’t think you
can separate the person you are from the person that you might become. Don’t
stretch out too much or go in too many directions at once. A strain of the body
can be temporary, but a strain of the mind can have long lasting effects. You
might find yourself wandering around in a daze drinking coffee waiting to
figure out what it was that you were supposed to be doing. Life can be like
that sometimes. You have to shake your head around sometimes and hope that the
right words fly out of your tongue.
Day 16
It’s not fair how movies are. They toy with your
emotions. They make you think that something is real when it isn’t. Can
anything truly be real in this world of mixed-up emotions and complicated and
tragic thought. Can we ever truly be free of our minds and come to grip with a
firm image of ourselves? It’s not fair I tell you, it’s just not fair. I wish
life was fair. It isn’t. Don’t go to that strange house is what you tell the
people on the screen when they are about to go to a strange house. Don’t go in
there. Don’t go in at all. And that’s what we do in real life. We don’t go
inside. We don’t discover what’s lying on the other side in darkness waiting to
be discovered. If only we could let go of our fragile selves for just one
moment. Just one. One would be enough. And live like they do in the movies
where almost everything is alright for good people and the bad ones get shut
away for ever. Maybe we should go
inside that strange house. Life isn’t about being shut up inside a box that we
have created for ourselves. We need to let ourselves out sometimes. We are so
trapped. So trapped. When everyone says to not go inside the house, then we
listen to them. Don’t listen to the people. It doesn’t matter what they think.
All the money in the world doesn’t matter if you don’t follow what is inside
you that is calling your name. Listen for it. Wait. Because otherwise it’s just
not fair. It isn’t.
Day 17
A garble of emotions is a good way to start thinking
about things. You don’t want to admit that you feel horribly alone to anyone
because they might think it's pathetic. You've stopped caring about that and
only want to fill in the hole that painfully resides in your heart.
Unfortunately no one else can see that unless you let them see that. And of
course that only results in painful discomfort and embarrassing stares. It only
serves to stop the flow of good ideas of which I don't have right now.
Admittedly I am at a loss for words. Imagination is punched in the face by
emptiness. The emptiness wins. It laughs. It waits to spit out it's next
opponent whom it will horribly triumph over as well. I think of someway to
defeat it. I think some more. I am uncertain. It's just too bad that we live in
a world full of this emptiness. Everywhere you look people run around feeling
empty inside. It's awful. They try to fill in meaningless good times into this
hole. Good times are light as air and never fill in anything, they just make
you forget for a little while.
Day 18
Don't be scared I told the girl as I gently stroked
her cheek. Don't be scared of the world around you and what it can do for you.
Think of the trees outside and your family, the people that love you. Think of
them. Don't worry of how they might see you. They love you and want you to come
home for Christmas. It's their fondest wish of all to see you returned to them
and not living somewhere where they worry for you every day. Your mother used
to work in her garden day after day. She loved it. The petunias, the weeds, the
cherry blossoms - everything. But now your absence has sapped her strength, she
can't bear to do anything about the garden. She just wants to be left alone
most of the time and worry. She's taken to watching too much television. She likes
those reality shows a lot. Your dad works harder than before because he has a
hard time dealing with the mother of his children now that she's in this state.
It's so much harder for them at Christmastime with every other family in the
neighborhood having a wonderful Christmas with their families and friends. You
are their only family and their friends don't call anymore. Do come with me.
Please end their suffering. Forget about your shame. It will do you good.
Anything would do you good at this point. You must get up. You must. You can't
just sit there any longer. I won't let you die. I won't. You must get up. You
must carry on. Please remember how things used to be. You don't have to love me
anymore. Just as long as you remember.
Day 19
George was a scared little boy. He had always been
scared, it was probably because of too many movies that he watched without his
parent's permission. These films were always on very late at night on the
weekends, and would usually come on right after a popular syndicated television
show of the 70's like the Incredible Hulk. One of them featured giants spiders
from space that attacked the earth and started walking around and crushing
buildings and eating people. It was a horrible mess, and George loved it, and
that’s when the fear started - the fear of shadows, the fear of bullies, the
fear of dissapointing his parents. It's easy to say that movies can't influence
young children in a negative way, but you have to remember that your brains and
young minds are still being formulated and are growing up rapidly whether you
can see it or not. George developed a problem because of his late night viewing
habits on the weekend. He took to building large buildings out of his lego
blocks then crushing them to bits. It was a rather amusing habit for
bystanders, as long as you didn't happen to be one of George's parents who
thought the whole thing was rather disturbing. "Why can't you play outside
like normal children?" they would wonder. The whole thing was a big
mystery to them, and so it came as a complete shock when the principle of
George's school called and said that George was hiding in the roof right above
the boy's bathroom and he wouldn't come out. The staff couldn't get to him
because the ceiling wouldn't support their weight, but the 75 pounds of an
eight year old boy held up just fine. George was scared. He hid up there above
the bathroom right before a test he feared he would fail. He knew his father
would yell at him, and he just couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore.
So it did come as a bit of a shock to George's parents who didn't even know
about the big math test that day that their son was bitten by a rat and went
into a shock by the time they got to the school. They took him and whisked him
off to the hospital where his breathing stayed at an extremely abnormally high
level. After that George's parents took George and they sent him to
Psychologists who administered a battery of tests on George where they
determined he was perfectly normal, but George's parents kept paying for the
meetings so George kept going, and everything was fine.
Day 20
This is so crippling. This paralyzing fear that life
is shitty and it will never get any better. You know deep down that you can't
think like that or else things will only get worse, or even more horrible than
that, they will stay exactly the same for a long long long time. When you feel
that life is a drag, and you are stuck in auto-pilot then getting up in the
morning can be awfully hard; what's even harder is finishing out the day.
What's even worse than that is not knowing when things will change, or knowing,
but just feeling that it is too far in the future to be concerned about. People
need to be in control of their life. Haywire and chaos is no way to live, but
unfortunately it has a grip of steel. It doesn't want to let go of you. It
wants to pull you downward into a spiral that many don't ever escape from, they
just sit in a closet reading old tv guides and painting their toenails the
color of the wallpaper. But you can walk away from it if you try. If you try
hard enough. If you want it worse than anything else, just like Superman in
Superman the Motion Picture, you can turn back time and make it all worthwhile
again. It can't ever be like it really was, but it can almost return to a
semblance of something that you once wanted. Don't cry for the future, don't
mourn for the past. Don't waste, don't throw away your humanity. You crumple
your stupid head into the garbagecan and you never dump the trash out. Stick
your brain down there with the old food and dirty underwear. It doesn't deserve
better the way you've been treating it. You hate what you are? You hate this.
Then change. Force yourself. Rip down that wall of expectations and walk one
step at a time, one day a time. Do you need a hand to pick yourself up? You
used to have so many, but now so few. What are you to do? It's all so
confusing. I just need some more time. That's all.
Day 21
It’s so dark outside. They’re coming to take me away
they say. They’re coming to take me away. Away? from what? What is it that I am
in now? I do not know. I am not told. I do not ask questions. I just grovel for
food and whine when it does not come. I cannot understand them anyway. The big
ones. They just prowl over me with food. I have to call for it and sometimes it
does not come. I have to slink around in the dark confined in a place where no
one would think to look for me. That is why I am here now. Taken from the place
I used to know. It was familiar to me that place. I used to be there. I know I
was. I think I can go on. Now I do not know where I am going but that is
alright. It will be better in the morning. At least that is what they say. I
have to believe what they tell me because that is all I have. I have no
opinions of my own, or at least none that they would like to believe. Hush up
and be quiet. Aren’t they the same thing? Then why am I told them over and over
again like a wild wailing wall of nothing. That is what they tell me I am,
sometimes in silence, sometimes in agony, sometimes to my face. Nothing. You
don’t matter. That is why we’re taking you away from here. We want something
important in your place. Doesn’t anything matter so much as me? Doesn’t
anything that takes up space matter? Is space itself conserving space for the
next thing that moves that wants its spot? Deep down I don’t believe what they
tell me, at least that’s what I tell myself.
Day 22
I find that when I sit down to write without an idea
at all to rattle around in my subterranean brain that something will eventually
pop-up as long as I don’t stop thinking about something. I don’t mean just
anything. I mean thinking creatively. Unfortunately for most people, thinking
creatively is not something that can be spurred on by a paycheck and the notion
of “taking one for the team.” Creative thought can be spurred on by many things
but a paycheck does not often do so, unless this paycheck allows you
otherworldly amounts of free time to just sit in your room, listen to old Bob
Dylan records, and just think about the world for a while. When you do that,
you get out from yourself. You shouldn’t always think about yourself when
you’re writing, because people are very biased and quite usually have a higher
opinion of themselves than other people do. In fact even if most people thought
you were dirt there is a very high chance that you would still think of
yourself as the number one thing going on the planet. Well, maybe that is an
exaggeration but at least it gets you thinking in the direction of how
exaggerated the human mind feels about itself. We have to surround ourselves
with a fantasy world frequently because of the pain, horror, and sorrow that is
lurking just outside our door. If we went outside then we might have to be
faced with the sudden reality that everything isn’t coming up roses anymore. In
fact your next-door neighbor just backed over your rose bed and shot your dog.
Now what are you going to do about that? What are you going to do? I’ll tell
you what you’re going to do. Nothing. You’ll cower in fear of your next-door
neighbor because he knows something you don’t. He knows that he can take power
over you if you never step outside your front door. He knows that you are weak
fragile and pathetic. He won’t even go fishing with you if you ask him. Please don’t
ask him to go fishing. I’d feel bad for you if he rejected you the way that I
think he’s going to.
Day 23
Just between you and me. I like watching people.
People are interesting. They’re always doing some sort of different thing when
they think that no one is watching them, or even when they think that no one
cares, or even when they don’t think about much of anything at all. I like
little league games. I don’t care who wins. I just want to see the swing of the
bat, the yell of the crowd, the advice shouted as if gospel. RUN FOR HOME! RUN!
GO! Inevitably of course, the boy will probably be thrown out at home if the
advice has to be shouted to him. He will probably be slowing up the base-runner
behind him who doesn’t have a clue about what’s going on either. The boy who
was thrown out will trot back home to the dugout discouraged, but will still
receive a warm-hearted pat on the back from his coach. The coach may have a
wife laid up in the hospital for cancer, and he may have lived a life full of
problems, but today he is a coach, and his team needs him. The strength and
determination of a young boy on a baseball team usually derides from the coach.
It certainly doesn’t deride from a boy’s father, many of whom the best advice
they can offer is to not screw up. Just think of the boy standing there,
nervously holding a bat near as long as he is waiting to swing at something
being thrown at him. These children don’t have full physical capacity of all
their operations yet, and we ask them to swing at an object that theoretically
will be projected near their face. Extraordinary. Amazing. What people can do
if they try hard enough. I remember years ago everything seemed so easy. There
was no hard work, no notices to file, or taxes to fret over. You just played
all day and came in when it was dark. You didn’t worry about school unless your
parents worried about school for you. And then you blink, you miss it. You
don’t see it happening as gradually as it does. But you grow up. You fall in
love. You screw up. You drop the ball. You slide into home. You’ve made it by
God. You’ve made it.
Day 24
I’ve come to realize that everything I do isn’t
important. I’m sure some things are, but most aren’t. Work isn’t important,
it’s just something you do, like having a conversation. A conversation is just
information being exchanged when two or more people talk. That’s why when you
talk to yourself you’re not really having a conversation, because unless you’re
skitzo you’re not really exchanging information with yourself, you’re just
reasurring yourself that everything is okay, and reaffirming what you already
know. That’s alright; most people need that little pat on the back that talking
to yourself really is. They need that extra atta boy. They want that social
acceptance that comes from exchanging information and following the advice of
others. Are there any truly new ideas out there, or are they just recycled
useless pieces of information that have been gleaned from other conversations
and exchanges. What is the price of a new thought or idea? Is it worth the
world? How does one go about paying for such a thing? Could you even afford it?
If you found where they were selling new ideas would you buy stock in the
company? I know I would, because a good idea is a rare commodity worth selling.
However I would want to keep that new idea to myself knowing that I know
something that no one else except for the person that sold it to me knows, and
with that thought I have power over other people who just go around repeating
what everyone already knows, and squabbling over nothing important. Just repeat
what you tell yourself over and over, and you will memorize it internally. You
probably won’t be able to recall it at the drop of a hat because your brain
refuses to cooperate with you in that way when you really and truly need it to.
That’s why among other things we are imperfect flawed beings always searching
for that greater truth, never content until we have found something that
disagrees with our predetermined condition, and yes our condition is
predetermined. You didn’t ask to be born where you were born, you simply were.
You are. You exist in the way that you were made, and you are influenced by
your parents and friends and relatives all of whom spit out old recycled ideas
and thoughts. Digest what they give you and only regurgitate the best of it.
See if you can form an amalgam of old thoughts to come up with something
cleverly disguised as original. Many people wont recognize your clever scam.
Only you will, and if you tell no one of it then you will be safe. Safe from
ridicule, from the people who want to hurt you, and believe me they are out
there. You will never be okay unless you talk to no one and just hole yourself
away in a box in the middle of contentment and despair. This leads to nothing,
which is no more flow of information, no more recycling of bubble gum thoughts
and plots and contributions to society. If you don’t keep the machine going it
eventually breaks down. Who will feed the machine if you won’t?
Day 25
One bright sunny day the sun was shining the stars
were nowhere to be seen and little Bobby and little Mary were walking hand in
hand in the summertime underneath the maple trees. They were pretending to be
Clark Kent and Lois Lane meeting each other for the first time, like in a
Superman comic book. They were both decked out in their matching superhero
underwear. They were a resplendent couple, perfectly matched for each other,
after all, they were both seven years old. How much more destiny do you need
than that? Little Bobby tried to pick up Lois Lane and carry her away to his
fortress of solitude, but she fell and bumped her head, and she thought she
should go straight to bed, and that’s when her mother called to ask if she was
okay. Mary started crying on the phone, and her mother demanded that she come
home right away. Mary put the phone down, got dressed, and went back home to
her house next door. She wouldn’t come out to play with Little Bobby much after
that, because her mother said that he was a bad influence. Of course Bobby was
a bad influence, he was a seven year old that liked Superman, how much more
evil can you get? To make matters worse little Bobby’s mother hated Superman
and always tried to turn it off when Bobby would watch it. It didn’t matter that
it was his most favorite show in the entire world, and he had to watch it from
beginning to end, even though he had seen every episode at least three times
each. It just didn’t matter. Bobby loved Superman, and he really liked Mary
too. She had a lot of candy in a pretty bowl at her house. He supposed her
mother put it there, but he didn’t really know. He just knew that he liked
eating it, and he liked being around Mary while eating it, and staring at her
huge goldfish. He imagined that Mary fed them too much food, and they looked
like they came out of a Dr. Seuss book. You know the one where the little boy
feeds his goldfish too much food. I love that book, and Superman.
Day 26
I suppose that feeling bad for yourself doesn’t help
matters much when you are in an unusually bad situation. Pouting, it is
universally recognized, is a defense mechanism of the weak, and doesn’t really
do much except to exasperate the situation. You’ll certainly never get anywhere
if all you do is cry, and biting the bullet doesn’t help much either. It hurts
to bite the bullet, especially if it has just been fired from a gun. If you had
a talent like that then you might belong in a traveling circus, or some kind of
freak show. Unfortunately I’ve heard that the pay for that sort of thing isn’t
really that great or else I might go into it myself. It’s true that having an
unusual talent is good for a laugh, but eventually it is just a cheap thrill
for onlookers and a chore for you. Don’t set yourself up for these situations
where people cheer your exploits that you tirelessly perform for free. Allow
yourself the freedom of movement, and of thought. Cast off all hindrances when
you go about your day. Be sure to look both ways before crossing the street.
Don’t let the chickens hatch too early. In fact don’t let the chickens hatch at
all; you do want to eat eggs don’t you? I thought so. I have nothing more to
add to the subject unfortunately, but then again, neither does the rest of the
world, and they never cease to allow their addled minds loose on any situation
or subject that you might ask them about, no matter how little they know about
the subject. People never want to appear stupid no matter how stupid they might
really be. It is a natural defense mechanism. Shut your mouth to appear smart.
Open it and appear stupid. Of course if you actually have something intelligent
to say, then it might not go so bad for you. So be sure to study up on your
favorite subjects so you can have good things to say on whatever interests you.
Jack of all trades might have been a good profession a hundred years ago, but a
man who a knows a little about everything and not a lot about anything won’t
serve you much good if you want to get anywhere in life.
Day 27
People can’t escape who they really are. No matter
how much they try to run away and hide from their identity it is always staring
right back at them in their proverbial face. It’s as obvious as a wart on your
nose. Don’t back down from who you are. Don’t try to pretend to be something
you’re not. Odds are you’re probably not very good at it anyway. What are you
good at? Find out if you don’t know, then proceed to be excellent at it. You
can only get excellent by working at a thing. Very good ratings on something
can almost be accumulated through sheer willpower and effort, but to be
excellent at a thing requires luck, skill, and at all costs hard work. Remember
it’s not always what you put into something, it’s what you take out that
counts. No one remembers who put something into what they take out of. They
only remember that they really like those orange slices with bits of sugar
coating them, and they don’t give a whit for whomever bought them. Don’t
presume to squeeze a thanks out of them while they are eating their orange
slices. It would be rude of you. And honestly, you have so little going for
you, that being rude would be a highly bad idea. Absurd actually. In other
words don’t do it.
Day 28
What is it like being absurdly good at something? I
mean being so good at a thing that everyone stops to look at you while you were
doing it, and in fact you will probably be paid handsomely for it. Just once
I’d honestly like to know. I can put words down on paper, but it’s very seldom
that someone pays to watch someone doing that. You’d have to be very rich or
very famous in order for that to happen, and then you’d probably be so bored of
people staring at you all day anyway, that you wouldn’t care about all that
unwarranted attention. The fact of the matter is that so little of the world’s
population can comfortably stand being less than average at something that
everyone can see, that they tried to hide away this imperfection, this little
divot in their personality. By cloaking their problem away under a guise of
fear and mistrust of people, people often lose contact with what makes them
real and genuine people. Real people have flaws, and are less than average at
many things, and slightly above average at nearly everything else. It’s just
the way it is, and no amount of flummoxing on one’s part will make it any
different. Just grin and bear your lot in life. You’ll be a lot happier that
way.
Day 29
I think the hardest thing in life to do is to leave
the people you love behind and move out from them. Its not like you’re never
going to see them again, but its just the fact that all the little things that
you took for granted will never really happen again the same way that they used
to. Things change and we should change along with them. If you can’t roll with
the punches then what good are you really? A crippled lonely soul desparately
tries to hang onto any and every good thing that he has left in his life and
when he has to leave it just shatters him completely. But now he can start
over, and forge on ahead and right this great sinking ship he had been on for
the past six years. He would no longer have to forget about what happened, but
he would start living for today. Before, he lived on in spite of her, but now
he would live for tomorrow. The future
is a bright place to live in, and it won’t be so bad to visit. I don’t want to
go there right now, but maybe tomorrow I’ll feel like checking the place out;
you know, giving it the ol’ once over. I mean how hard can a thing like moving
out be anyway. You have no idea of course. Once you are gone there is a separation
that takes place, and a shell is broken that can never again be replaced. A new
shell grows in its place around the user, a smaller one this time that grows
with him for the rest of his place and encompasses all the people that will
love him in his next life as he leaves this one behind.
The next day happened, and then the next, and then
the next, and each day afterwards was slightly less memorable than the day
before that. His excesses were long behind him, and now all he had to live with
was regrets. He liked blowing his nose to waste time, and then wadding it up
into little bits and throwing it into his big metal trash can that he paid too
much money for, because he had everything to spend money on, but nothing that
he really wanted, at least nothing that he could buy anyway. He just really
wanted happiness, but he didn’t how to buy it, he didn’t know how to get it. He
would have loved to sell it, if only he knew how. The secret to selling
happiness would be a great commodity; you could never have too much in stock,
because people always want to be happy. Not many people honestly want to go
around being in a foul mood all the time. There has to be time for mirth and
merriment, and frivolity, and things of that sort. Life gets old and boring
without them. The sooner that the exciting things in life are gone, the sooner
that you can go on living out the rest of the life that you had without those
things. It’s just not as important anymore though, is it? Living without those
things? They made the other things oh so sweet, but now that you have them all
the time their luster has burnt out. They are now nothing more than a passing
fancy, a resignation of the man who has grown stagnant for lack of want. A man
who can have everything, but wants nothing, because he has ceased to care. That
man has ceased to function. That man has ceased to dream. Without dreams, we
are nothing. Without life we have to go on living our dreams, or they will live
without us.
Day 31
And away he went in his car, unsure of his next
move, unsure of where his former traveling companion was at that moment, or any
moment. He only knew that he just didn’t know anymore. He didn’t like not
knowing anything. It made him hurt. Sometimes he tried to put it into words to
tell to other people in the hopes that it would make him feel better, but it
didn’t really, and often the people who were the recipients of this story had
heard it too many times in the past, and only reserved him the slightest morsel
of pity before they turned their heads to see what else out the window was more
interesting than this traveling urchan peddling his tales of woe. Occasionally
he would try to think of something funny to say, but often he ended up fumbling
the punchline, and so after a while he gave up telling something funny because
he was afraid of looking like an idiot. It’s bad enough to be an idiot, but
certainly no thinking person wants to look like one. But aren’t we all idiots
in this world who go casting our time away looking for love from one person who
would love to spend their time on us and not a variety of people. Does this
make us greedy? Does this make us a whole person? Why do we have to search our
brains to be interesting? Why is it so bad to just fade into the background
while people turn their backs to you? Why is not being important such a bad
thing. Why do we want people to look at us? Why does someone have to care? Does
anyone care? They certainly care in that moment when you tell your funny story,
or the anecdote which seems to fit in with what other people are saying, but
after your story is over, the heads turn away from you in mid-sentence and
there you are left to prattle on like an automaton – a useless function is what
you are, and the sooner you are used to it, the sooner you can fit in to the
system. If you are outside the system then you are an anomaly, and you just
don’t fit. You must fit into something. You have to stay inside a category so
people can define you. If you don’t then you just won’t matter, and there’s no
use worrying about something that no one else cares about but you.
Day 32
What to put here? What to cram into this space that
previously housed nothing. Should I speak of what I just did, of what happened
long ago, or what happened the day before that? What is so endlessly
interesting about hearing the banal rantings of someone about his or another’s
day? Are we supposed to feel some empathy with this person when they tell us
how they had a horrible day? Is the whole human race just one big support group
for anything that goes wrong? My poodle died today.
Here give me a hug.
My boss yelled at me.
Here, let me dry those tears.
Why
do we feel the urgent need to look at those small almost insignificant things
that we do on a daily basis like brush or teeth, or get up to use the bathroom?
Is it really that interesting hearing about how dirty or ugly the carpet in my
bedroom is? Why would anyone want to know that I prefer Coke or Pepsi? I can
pronounce things that other people can’t. Does that make me somehow a better
person? Do I have a higher overall person score? Are people naturally attracted
to people who can spell? This support group really is some kind of scam. Why do
we deserve such niceties? What have we done that’s really so great when you
stop to look at it? I can bowl very good, but that’s because I used to focus on
it when I was young, and when things are easy. Now that things are hard and you
don’t have hours to waste on throwing a ball against a wall, or chasing
fireflies, you can’t just pick up newer things as well. But still, if you
practice at something you get better at it. Like right now for instance. I’m
becoming a better writer. Or am I really? What is a better writer? Is he one
who is able to communicate his inner thoughts more clearly than someone else?
What if his inner thoughts are dirty and nasty and rotten? Does he too still
qualify for the greatest writer award?
Day 33
You don’t like gravy. You don’t like anything. But I
like you. You don’t like the things that I think you are supposed to like.
That’s okay. I like talking to you. You gripe endlessly and complain about
small things that bother you. It’s okay. If you didn’t tell me they might
become big things. You cry but don’t reach out for help. I want to help. I need
to feel wanted. The grand scheme of things has gone on for too long without me
being involved somehow. I’m just waiting right here. I think you want to talk
to me. But you don’t talk. Maybe you don’t want to talk right now. Maybe you
just want to eat cold cereal and play with your cat. Maybe you want to let me
in but can’t tell me how. I can wait for a while for you to make up your mind.
You’ll decide eventually. Everyone does. People who stay by your side long
enough become your confidant. I want to know what you’re thinking. You usually
tell me. In descriptive words. In measured tones. You tell me. You tell me what
I need to hear, but not what I want to know. I like waiting for you. I like
playing in the snow when it’s cold and the world around just sort of vanishes.
Maybe I could take you there one day. And we could live in far far away. You
wouldn’t have to be hassled anymore, or worry about your hair or your shoes.
You wouldn’t have to tie things or cry about your mother. It would be sweet.
The two of us. Dancing in the snow. You would be my snow angel. I’d never want
another. Just don’t hold back from me. Never let me go. Just stay right here.
In the falling snow.
Day 34
Once again it begins and it ends just like it does
every day. What you make of that day is what determines if you call it a good
day, or a bad day. What you make of it is what it is. You have to least venture
out of your while once in a while to find an adventure. Very seldom does the
adventure come looking for you. The great adventure called life is right out
there waiting for you to experience it fully. I want you to feel. I want you to
live. I want you.
Day 35
And again he plunged into the great desert, with his
pack on his back, and his boots on his feet. The intrepid adventurer was most
certainly brave to brave the desert that a year hence very nearly took his
life. Why had he come back to the place of his greatest failure, and his
untimely defeat? Was it some great force of will that wanted to conquer nature,
to tame it, to beat it, to make it his own? If it first you don’t succeed, try,
try again, the adventurer thought. It is why I have come. I must overcome. I
must succeed where others, including myself have failed. Only if I cross this
desert unscathed will I truly be an explorer, an adventurer worthy of the name
of my great father. And so on he trode, silently, with the wind nipping at his
heels, and his pack growing inexorably heavier as the days wore on. The
adventurer searched for an oasis that he knew was out there waiting for him. He
just couldn’t put his finger on where it was. But once he found it, he was sure
he could make it to the other side of the desert, something no one living, not
even his poor departed father had ever done. And at last, the father would
truly be avenged, the son would have beaten the cruel fate that befall his
father, and he would honor the last words his father ever spoke to him to go
forth against all odds, and to seek out what lies ahead of you son.
Perseverance was the only thing that the great adventurer knew, only recently
had he come to know failure, and he didn’t like it so much. However, the time
he spent resting up the band of wandering nomads that had saved his life,
proved invaluable. It toughened him up for his next trip. His next voyage
across the hot desert sea.
Day 36
It isn’t much better than nothing. There is now it’s
real. There is no way it can be real. You aren’t good enough for that. What are
you good for? Why do you keep asking questions which have impossible answers?
Why can’t you be satisfied by the fact that what you want to know can’t be
known? Will you ever stop paying attention? Can you understand that people
don’t like to be stared at? Folks just want to be left alone sometimes. They
don’t care that you’re feeling bad and just need someone to talk to. They just
want to sulk by themselves in a corner and forget how badly they wanted to
remember how it meant to feel something that was real. Instead they’ve built a
box to dunk their head in every day and shut things up, and make them go away.
Oh yes. You can make them go away. Who would want you anyway? No one would pay
attention to your honesty and mistake it for earnestness. Anyone could make the
mistake of thinking that something was wrong with you because you wanted to get
to the root of everything. You weren’t satisfied with pat answers. You had to
go digging until you found something. And it hurt. You were better off not
knowing. But you wanted to know why. You wanted to know why they didn’t care
about you. You weren’t content to wait around and see if anyone would come
calling for you. It made you climb the walls in agony to feel in such a state
of perpetual chaos within your own mind. Until you finally realize that your
whole desire would be unfulfilled, then could you finally be at peace. Just
take the pill and it will all be over. Don’t wake up like you are right now.
You are nothing more than leftover vapor. The sooner you gather everything
inside and explode the outside, the sooner that everything will be okay. No one
really wants you anyway. They don’t love your honesty. They hate discovering
new things. They only want what they already have. They hate new things. You
pretty new thing. How have you been? Why do you lock yourself up like this? Why
do you go on in a world so filled with hate? Why can’t you just shut off
completely? Why do you make yourself hurt?
Day 37
Don’t shut yourself off and sit in your room and
sulk. Just because you’re in a funk doesn’t mean the world is going to end. It
just means that nothing works. It all is a silly game we play where we try to
remain calm for as long as possible when the rain comes down. It falls down on
everyone. Even though God sent his son. I don’t love everyone. And I don’t
know, and I don’t care what you think and what you wear. Its just the part its
supposed to be, where I love you and you love me. Why can’t everything be
right? Why does my brain want to fight all I see. Whenever it rains down on me.
Whats it supposed it be? Am I supposed to get something out of this? Do you
know what I feel when I say all of this? Do you care? Do you care? Why should
you remember me? What’s it supposed to be. I just can’t see. I don’t know. It’s
just me. I’m in a family. Sometimes they love me just like you. And then I
break down and don’t cry. Inside I’m falling down. Outside I wear a frown. And
Im so stupid. I don’t want to have fun with anyone. I just sit and contemplate
the sun. I wish it would come and bring tomorrow so that today could never be.
Its as beautiful as you think. It’s another day I don’t drink. I think. I’ll
die. Pieces of me start to ache and I can’t take this. I can’t take this pain I
see. It’s just me. But I’ll go on. And I feel strong. It’ll all just go away.
Every single day brings something new, something beautiful like you. But I can’t
love you in the end. All I do is just pretend. I want you to care. I want you
to stare. I hope you ask me questions. I’ll answer everything if it will just
shut this thing down. I am so stupid. These dirty clothes I wear. They’re
always strewn everywhere. Why do I write about the awful things. Is it supposed
to make me feel better if you read this and say its beautiful. Because its not
so beautiful. It’s not so beautiful. It’s merely horrible. And I go on. Because
nothing’s wrong. But everything’s wrong with me.
Day 38
It is truly the time to think about things. To let
things settle and wear away by themselves for a while. I just want to crawl
into a hole and watch time pass me by inexorably, like a wave cresting away to
nowhere. The ocean sweeps things in from the tide and it pulls back to reveal
the sea creatures trapped in its wake. The desert’s hot sand brushes my cheek
and I wipe away an insect from my arm. How hot it is. How sticky. How
inconvenient. Why did I have to come here, away from all that is good and
healthy in this world. It’s almost like a great reparation for everything that
came before it. Soothing my soul. Making me whole? Why doesn’t it come easy
anymore? Where has the sweetness gone that allayed all fear and worry. The dust
blows on the fallen contact lense and sweeps away seeing into a garden of dirt
and mold. The vision is one of the last things to go. It usually stays to
remind you of how uncomfortable everything looks. A red truck splashes mud onto
my storefront and I don’t wipe it off so quickly this time. It begins to
gather. Time begins to pile on top of itself in a crescendo of silent noise.
Can a train wreck be less damaging somehow? What if everyone got out of their
cars and just walked for a while? Would they be better people? Probably only if
that possibility was in them. The snow gently bathed my soul in light and
covered up my feelings in white paper.
Day 39
He had decided at last to venture out into the great
wide world that he had often heard about. He wasn’t so far away, he was just
scared of the thought of what he might find out there. Was there adventure
waiting for him? Was there a place where scary monsters lay in wait to devour
him? He certainly didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, but he
had heard a lot about it, and it was almost definitely worth seeking after. He
had been planning this trip for what seemed like an eternity, every ounce of
effort he could spend researching this trip would be worth it when he finally
reached his destination and was able to sit down for a while and reflect on the
great thing he had done. Everyone would be proud of him and say what a great
thing he had done. Compliments would be showered down on him like rain during a
monsoon. Everyone would want to be his friend and would invite him over for
dinner where they would eat roast pork and lamb chops together until they could
eat no more. Surely all this lay waiting for him. He only needed to pack first.
So he went to his drawer, where his socks lay folded for him in an organized
sort of collection of stripes of many different colors and sizes. He grabbed
several of them and stuffed them in a bag, and then moved on to the pants
drawer. He had blue jeans with big and small rips in them from climbing over
fences, and he had a shirt drawer filled with t-shirts with mud stains on it
from playing baseball. He loved baseball with a passion that was nearly
unbounded, and he looked forward to playing it, when he returned from his great
adventure. And so finally, he was ready. He began to walk out the door, and
then he heard this voice, “Daniel! Don’t go out to play before you finish your
supper!”
“Yes mom”, Daniel said, as he trudged slowly back to
his seat to finish the horrible broccoli.
Day 40
I don’t know exactly what to put here today. I just
wanted to write something. Unfortunately inspiration hasn’t struck yet. There
is no magical dose of power emanating from me that allows me to continue to put
things down that make perfect sense to anyone and everyone. But what if its
just simple devotion to exercise and work that allows things like writing to
continue in a straight line upwards to further simplification of the process of
maturing in your craft. Oh something like I suppose is a simple answer for it.
You must have dogged devotion to anything to succeed after your childhood is
over. For when you are a child you can be easily fooled into thinking that
everything that can be done well requires very little effort, when in fact the
exact opposite is true. Perhaps if my parents had prepared me better for
ramifications like this it would come more easily in a dignified manner
befitting the soul of one who praises God in a matter suiting one who goes to
church if you follow my meaning. I don’t sometimes, and that’s unfortunately
why no one follows me right now. They just look but don’t see past what’s in
front of their eyes. They don’t figure me out anymore. They’ve stopped trying.
Many of them have stopped caring. I wish it wasn’t so. I wish it was different.
I wish things were different. But they cannot be stopped in such a way as to
make a change effective unless you are willing to put yourself out there to
achieve your desired goal. You will get there one day before you are old if you
have to drag yourself there kicking and screaming. Everyone knows what is good
for them, but not everyone does it. Everyone knows what is bad for them, but
they don’t take steps to prevent it from happening to them. I can’t see the
scars in front of my eyes, the hurt in my soul. Only Jesus can make me whole. I
need to talk to him more.
Day 41
And along came the snow, and it was followed by rain
that turned all of the snow into slush which slowed down everyone driving. At
least everyone who had to get somewhere, and you could be reasonably sure that
someone who was driving was going somewhere for a reason. It’s not like an epic
journey. It’s more like a simple voyage to a place that you can get to in a
vehicle that expands your normal ability to traverse distances. I don’t know
what this all means right now, but I hope it makes sense someday. I hope there
is a someday to wish on when everything wasn’t so bright and god damn cheery. I
hope I haven’t driven everyone away with my impetuous need to figure things out
vocally. It’s only because I want to understand everything. I think everyone
else wants to be kept in the dark where it’s safe. Maybe it’s safer for me
there too, but I’m not ready to go there yet. I want to hang out in the
wilderness for a while longer until I can get my head clear of things that have
no meaning, and pound away endlessly at a never ending rate of things that I
have to do when I have no time to do anything important except love my family
and God and my fellow man. It all makes sense in a way if you leave everything
to be done and expect someone else to do it. I hope I haven’t left too much
behind for someone else to pick up and complain about. I hate it when people
complain at me. I wish they wouldn’t do it so much. I wish the hurting stopped
and was filled with joy and happiness. Is there a magic wand that I can wave to
achieve this effect? Is that the stupidest thing ever wished? I can’t say that
it isn’t. Most people would prefer an instant cure over a lifetime of
heartache.
Day 42
It is what is. It can’t pretend to be anything
different than that. No one could possibly be interested in reading anything
about this sort of thing, whatever it is. I can’t pretend to have a purpose
right now, and things don’t even make sense to me right now. All I know is that
I’m tired and tired isn’t always the most conducive time for creating thoughts
that other people care about. Oh sure, they care about the stupid silly
thoughts that don’t mean anything, but the dumb hair-brained ideas that they
ridicule can’t be considered worthy of being cared of. That didn’t make sense
at all. Why did I say that? Why do I continue. This is ridiculous. There should
have been a question mark in that other sentence! What will come next? Will
everything continue to be exactly the same as it always has been or will it all
just somehow suddenly finally change for the better?
Day 43
In the morning I awake and these vampires haunt me.
They watch over me as I sleep and they hang over my head like a bad dream when
I awake. There is no stopping them, a rampaging force of destruction, of self
will, of self-loathing. What can you do to defeat them? Is there no schedule
that you can accommodate that will temporarily ease your suffering? Why don’t
you just give up? You know there can be no real fighting of them. You gain inch
by inch every day, and then they yank it back from you yard by yard. What
little measure of respect you have for yourself they pull and pry away from you
like greedy flies to a light. The only sure thing is they are always hungry.
They will never stop hunting you down. Only in sleep can you defeat them, and
only in waking can you forget them.
Day 44
Today is finally the day that you will start the
rest of your life all over again. You will go to bed normally. You will think
those same happy thoughts during the day that you think when your favorite
commercial comes on television, or when the light turns green without you
having to wait for it. Today will be one of those tomorrows today where you
realize that anything can happen. You must only put your mind to it tomorrow
and it will happen today. Do you realize that you have the most fanastic way
about you? Did you know that everything shows? Can you believe in magic? You
can and it will all come true. It can happen to you – you young of heart. Why
don’t you listen to me and I’ll tell you what to see. Ill tell you what to
listen and to believe. Come along with me. Come inside and see what good things
are in the mirror. In the mirror you go to find the white rabbit of snow.
You’ll never stop what’s simply inside. You just can’t remember what’s only in
your mind. But will you forget to remember? Oh yes, to remember you can never
forget. It’s only tiptoe to the window that you go, and run fast through the
still falling snow. Away with all thoughts and worries of a crueler life
behind. Today you will go and find your behind. It’s a fascinating story. It’s
almost an allegory. It was meant to be told, but has to be lived. It can only
be seen or gived. Do what you must do. There is no try. You cannot say yes if
you say goodbye. So say goodbye to tomorrow. Say yes to today. Live for all the
things that this life can bring. And give a good home to those things.
Day 45
You may be saying to yourself, “What’s so great
about today?” You might be wondering what good is there to live for. You have
forgotten love. You have forgotten how good it can be. How warm and soothing
that love of your life who loves you dearly and wants nothing more than your
continued success and goodwill, can be. She is ready to devote her life to you
and you put her on the shelf. You put her back on the drawing board. You don’t
have time for an organized life anymore, because your life is an organized
failure. You are training every day for disaster, and you still look up at the
scoreboard to see how bad you are doing. You can be better. You can do well.
You must know that all is not lost. You must believe that there is something
out there that you can count on in a pinch. Just hold on to the hope you have
and remember to count on the things that you really hold dear. Look at the
little things in life, the tv commercials you enjoy, the mindless banter with
the waitstaff at your favorite restaurant. All those things can make you happy
for a while, but in your mind they are just temporarily plugging up an ever deeper
black hole. Eventually it will seep out into the open and people will begin
asking you what is wrong. You have forgotten love. You don’t put yourself out
there to discover it. You want it to come springing out to you like some
forgotten fountain of miracles. Where is your wisdom? Where is your pain and
suffering really taking you? I can’t see what it is that bothers you so much.
You have so much love to give in this world. Just don’t hold on to it until it
becomes blackened and worthless. You are a grapevine waiting to be plucked.
Day 46
It sure is a good time to be thinking right now
isn’t it? I mean after all you have a great deal of things to think about at
any one time. Why wouldn’t you take advantage of all the time afforded you to
make a deal with yourself that you can’t break. Usually those kind of deals are
best left for new years resolutions that are kept up for at least a week or two
before absolute terror reigns. Then you have to think back to what it was that
you wanted to think about and get back on track. It isn’t that hard that you
have to throw things around and get a temper tantrum. You shouldn’t forget
about anything. I don’t know how you can remember anything that you don’t’ want
to. At least you might only remember the interesting parts; more than likely
you’ll forget everything except the most exciting thing that was said and put
the extraneous stuff into the deeper recesses of your brain. It’s that kind of
place that you can’t really visit except during dream times. In dream times it’s
all open – the ball is in your court. You can control those dreams supposedly
if you realize it’s just a dream and say to yourself, “this is just a dream,
there’s no way that those pink dragons trying to eat me can be real.” Of
course! How could pink dragons ever be real. If you spent some time thinking
about it then you would know the truth implicitly without having to be told.
But, what if you thought about telling someone in that dream to remind you that
it was a dream. What then? Would anything change? Would you change in its
place? Can’t you remember whatever it was that we were talking about?
Day 47
Did you ever have one of those dreams where the same
thing keeps happening to you over and over again? You can never seem to wake up
from it, and sometimes you think you’re waking up from it but its just another
dream. Of course that’s happened to you. Everyone gets that sometimes. Of
course the neurotic ones obsess over it more than you or I. I mean, how could
we ever obsess over anything so unimportant, so trivial, as a dream? How
absurd! What a fascinating concept this dream can be. I mean, do you understand
that they can be a portal to your subconscious? Yes, yes. I know you’ve heard
that before. We all have, but sometimes you just start to dwell on it all day
long, and it takes control of you. Suddenly, the dream is the one living and
not you. You can’t stand that can you? You think, “That could never happen to
me. I’m too smart. I’m too pretty. I’m too intelligent, and I’m just way too
informed to let some stupid thing like that happen to me.” Well let me tell you
friend, you’re in for a rude awakening. When you’re lying in bed alone next to
yourself and you wake up in a cold sweat. That’s when you’re gonna remember
what I told you. You’re gonna remember exactly what I told you. At first you
won’t remember it exactly. You’ll probably think it was something that you made
up yourself to fit into your lifestyle choice, whatever that is. Don’t pretend
like you don’t understand that either. This is all just a big joke right?
You’re just pretending to be this dumb. No one could possibly be this stupid to
carry on a whole conversation with themselves.
Day 48
Have you ever had the most stupendous fun glorious
day of your life before? Of course you have. By the very nature of the word and
the definition of things, at one time you had what was the best day of your
life. Other days may come and go but you’ll always hold that one day special.
It could have been the day your dad finally took your family to that big
vacation in Florida. It may have been the day that the girl you loved with all
your heart told she loved you and needed you more than anything. It may have
been spending all day with your grandmother baking. It could have been
anything. It doesn’t matter about the specifics, as long as you have that
memory to hold onto it makes the bad times all the more passable. It’s because
you know that one day you could have that great day all over again. It’s so
much sweeter that way to have bad times followed by good. You don’t learn to
appreciate it otherwise. How would you know what was really good or really bad
if you had nothing to compare it to? Would you even care anymore? Would you
just sit back in your luxurious fun-filled life of mirth and merriment and stop
trying to do anything because it all just came so easily? You just might. I
hope you don’t. I hope we all don’t. I hope that we can all learn to remember
the good times and try to prepare for them, because they will make you so happy
you can cry. Find that person who can give you that good day, who can give you
that good life to hold onto. Find the reason to go on. Find out what it is that
makes up good days. Find out what becomes of them. Look into it. Get happier.
Go on.
Day 49
These are the happy times. It is time to do it now.
It is time and how. You can go forward and fight them down. Defeat those bad
times. Turn those blues upside down. Live it. Live it man. There’s no other
place to go so you might as well put on a happy face. Do you want to fall down
a massive disgrace? Cheer up and do something good that people will remember.
People remember all sorts of interesting things, and many of them are good, a
lot of them are bad, and the rest are ummentionable, unconscionable, and
stupid. Vileness is seldom valued for anything more than its own behaviour, so
don’t fall into that trap. You don’t want to wind up like that guy you don’t
like who’s always doing boorish, obnoxious things. I know I don’t. Look out the
window. Don’t fall out the window. There’s freedom out there. Listen to it.
It’s just blowing in the end. It’s an answer. It’s a call. It’s a call to
action. Strap on your flightsuit. You’re going to war!
Day 50
I thought at one time that I would write important
things right here. I thought that people would listen to these things and they
would in turn gain some sort of wisdom from the things that I would pass down
to them. Instead I find that it’s nice for people to just have a little comfort
in this world of loneliness. Some people never know where their next meal is
coming from. Some folks don’t know when their father will ever stop hitting
their mother. Right now, someone’s grandfather is in bed dying of cancer and
his grandson is questioning his faith. I find that a little comfort and a little
happiness in this world goes a long way towards dealing with those sort of
things. It’s all just as natural as breathing really. That is, well, if you
stopped to think about it for a minute or two. You just might come up with the
same conclusion that I did under entirely different circumstances. Maybe we
should all put aside our petty grievances and come to love our fellow man and
try to find out how they’re really feeling. I can see that place. I can see it,
it’s a town called love in a place that many people visit every day. Some folks
even live in love all their lives and they learn to help others from out of
town cope with their problems in an increasingly complex world. What am I going
to wear? Will she like me? Will I pass the test? Will I get a speeding ticket?
Will I ever get out of this dead-end job? Will my family ever stop fighting?
Will my son ever grow up and think for himself? I know of this place and I want
to go there, maybe just for a little while. It sounds like a nice quiet place
to relax and rest a spell.
Day 51
Whatever happened to that thing that I forgot to do?
I can’t remember what it was. I’m so tired right now, and I keep having these
dreams about my past. They’re strange dreams and I wake up at 3:00 in the
morning thinking about them. In a cold sweat in the morning I struggle out of
bed wondering why I keep having these dreams. Am I longing for something in the
past? Have I forgotten or negletted to do something in my life or with my life?
Am I just longing for something different, a change in the air if you will. I
just don’t know right now. I don’t know what to think exactly, but I do have
some really tasty cinnamon and rice pudding in the freezer. I think it calls
for making 6 cups, but I am alone so I divided the ingredients cooked it up,
and lo and behold it only looks like 2 cups. Maybe I cooked it too long. I
don’t know. But I am sure it will taste good. It’s Uncle Ben’s after all. I
think Uncle Ben just was born knowing that things tasted good and he wanted to
share them with me. I hope there’s still a girl out there that thinks I’m funny
and isn’t married or engaged or anything. That would be nice if she would call
me and tell me that she thinks I’m a genius. Because I just don’t know that I
believe all that anymore, or else why would I be here?
Day 52
It’s white outside. Softly coming down in bits and
pieces of little white miracles of god’s provision that beautify everything
they come into contact with. They can be deadly for people driving, but if you
are just out there enjoying the time that you have been given it is a wonderful
thing. The snow covers up all excess, all love, all hate. It just is. It’s
magnificent. It’s really like nothing else, wonderful it is. It makes me so
happy that I could cry. I want to jump around and roll on the ground squealing
like a child. What a wonderful time this is. I want to spend it with people
that love and care for me. It’s a cold cold world we’re living in, and everyone
needs to find a little comfort, a little shelter from the cold. I can’t believe
these people who don’t drag themselves away from the cold. They’re too afraid
to move anywhere. They may end up dead and they don’t seem to much care. God
help them. They certainly won’t help themselves. The dead don’t bury the dead,
they just keep on dying in the cold white bleak stark naked atmosphere under
the stars in God’s country.
Day 53
Sometimes I feel like I’m chasing a dream of
memories, of forgotten love. I feel haunted by that dream sometimes, because it
gave me a taste of something wonderful that I couldn’t get enough of, and now
that it’s gone it just leaves me with a
cold empty feeling in my belly. I try and try to fill it, but still it
remains. Sometimes I forget that it’s there and enjoy what’s going on in the
world around me. I look in vain for that love, that sweet girl who would come
along and want to share my life with me, and I hers. I despair of this
happening sometimes, but then again, who doesn’t? I don’t care who doesn’t, I
only care about me in this instance. Most people are greedy for love and
attention, and I only want a little bit of it to relive the glory that I once
had. It’s a shame really when you have to live in the past because the present
has forgotten about you. If only I had never left that soft belly of comfort
that I lived in. I was sheltered away from the cruel world, and never told
about its pain or excesses. I wish that sometimes I could get along with
myself, but I always quarrel. I always say what I think inside. Inside I don’t
know. I just don’t know. This can’t be. But it is. And so is the end of this
thought.
Day 54
Words fly out of your tongue like sweat from the
barrel of a gun sometimes. Occasionally you say something that you didn’t mean
to say and you regret it later. Once in a while you might say something to
apologize or excuse the situation, but a lot of people would say “that’s living
in the past” and they would ignore what they did and move on. Oftentimes we say
things that are downright boring, and are in fact just ways to move a conversation
onto other things that we would rather talk about. We like being in control of
where a conversation is going if we feel capable of discussing a subject
intelligently, otherwise, unless burdened by alcohol, we clam up and say
nothing. Nothing is better than something in many cases, and especially so in
this one. In fact, if you say almost nothing wherever you go, people will
attribute to you an air of mystery. This rule actually only applies to people
who are at least pretty okay looking. If you are creepy looking, then most
people won’t really wonder what you’re thinking, they’ll wonder “where are the
exits”, or “How do I avoid talking to this guy?” Its not really much of a
social commentary to point out that ugly people turn heads the wrong way and make
things uncomfortable, or that they have to fight harder to get anywhere in
life. Usually the fight is worth it and they will come out the better person
for it in the end. I still haven’t found which way I want to go on this earth.
Hopefully I will soon.
Day 55
Suddenly everything exploded. The moon ruptured and
imploded into itself. Scientists all over the world were at a loss to explain
exactly what was going on. They had never seen such a catastrophe, and they
were ill prepared for it. They knew that there would be no more moon to guide
ships in at night there would be no more waves because of the tides of the
moon. What tides could there be? The Earth as we know it would be in absolute
chaos. What could be done? They decided to move everyone underground for a
while, just to figure things out. That seemed like the safest plan, and
everyone agreed to it. Well, almost everyone. It turns out that there was this
old codger alone in Arkansas shooting squirrels who just didn’t want to be
bothered just because his old way of life was about to come to an abrupt halt.
He didn’t want any disturbances and shot at any trespassers onto his yard. The
moon patrol unit swiftly came by his yard, and upon seeing the crazed man with
the shotgun, they promptly left the scene and headed back to base to close up
ship to begin the long hibernation process until the earth could produce enough
of its own air for people to breathe again properly. Without the moon they
could catch all sorts of diseases, and the government was determined to prevent
that, anything to bottle up this catastrophe, and start over. That seemed the
best way for everyone.
Day 56
You can be whatever you want to be. You can soar to
the highest clouds. You can go to the moon. Just believe in rainbows. Just believe
in love. You can live the dream of a lifetime. You can be fulfilled. Lift up
the Lord God in your life and he will direct your path. You wonder where to go.
You can’t figure out life. It’s so simple. Just pray. Just ask God for help. It
will all become clear. Shoot the breeze. Shoot the moon. It doesn’t matter when
you’re in God’s hands, it’s like a rollercoaster at the park and you know
you’re totally safe. Just remember to thank him for all he’s done. I want to
cry when I think about how he’s helped me, and how I’ve left behind sometimes,
and I look at where it’s gotten me. I’m so little in his sight but he loves me
so much anyway. That’s really a comforting thought in this painful world. I
can’t believe life hurts so much. The ones you thought loved you just turn
around and scorn you and you can’t understand what’s happening to your life.
You cling on by your fingernails to the things you thought meant so much and
now you couldn’t give a damn about them. It will happen. You will grow up
kicking and screaming into the new world of consciousness.
Day 57
Sing a sad song in the dark. One they’ll remember
you by. You can never go home. You are almost alone. Sing a sad song in the
dark. Try to put on a happy face. Don’t you answer the phone. They’ll never call
you. They’ll never call you. Wear your best cucumber hat, the one with the
stains all over it. You think that they’ll care, but you know that they won’t.
You just smile and keep on going, going through this alone. Altogether no home.
Where are you now? Pick up the phone. Don’t whisper to me. Your secret melody.
I don’t understand the translation. Why won’t you talk to me? Have I done
something wrong? I only have love in my heart for you. Is that such a crime?
What have I done? Why do you leave me and won’t carry me home? This is today.
So much for tomorrow. Anything else that happens is a victory for success. Or
something else except nothing. There is a tomorrow. You’ll face it today, and
relive it every moment of the rest of your waking dream. Why can’t I sleep. I’m
thinking of you. And I cry when I wake up and pick up my head off the ground.
It’s raining today. I think I’ll go for a walk. Maybe that will help me forget
that I tried to care. It’s incredible, the three day romance.
Day 58
The man sat and smoked in silence. He took in a deep
breath, and he just sat. He thought about the good times and the bad. He was
resigned. He was cool in the traditional sense of being cool. He had that
tragic sadness about him as if you asked him he could enthrall you enrapt with
a tale of lost love and sacrifice, of loathing and self-doubt. Indeed it was
his closeness to the human condition that made him the most vulnerable. He was
at times a true artist who was closely linked to the subject of death. Indeed,
death had no hold on him, could not produce even an ounce of fear from him. He
had lived out everything that could have happened to him to evinsce such an
emotion. He didn’t understand people who went flitting about trying to live
every little moment of time as if there was plenty of time to keep doing
whatever it was that they were doing. He thought those people fools. Life was
so precious to him. He had very little of it left. He was a very strong and
caring man. He was a loving man who’s great love had left him in that great
void of darkness that comes in a great sickness and leaves in smoke and
obscures true feelings. Eventually she came to live on in his mind. Still he
sat there with his cane, cigar in hand, puffing away. His head hurt and he
didn’t care. His leg ached sometimes when he walked, but he took it all in
stride. Dying is only a part of living was a phrase that he would oft quote. A
lot of wisdom can be gained from listening to such a man. If you have time and
time is the most important commodity in the world. Spend your time wisely,
soaking up every bit of wisdom that you can. You never know when your most
precious resource, your mind, will be needed. You can’t know how much that mind
will turn people away from you, people who hate you for what you know. Don’t
look at them derisively or shy away from them. Try to understand and love them
truly for what they are. Be more complete is all and the best advice that I can
give to you as I sit and write these words which invariably will never be fully
understood.
Day 59
I’m so depressed I could scream. Is this the
American dream? Pour my hands full of cream so I forget what I mean. I don’t
want to deal with it. I just want it to go away, this feeling of ache over the
girl that left me high and dry. She left me standing there. She had flowers in
her hair. I wanted to buy her cigarettes and a jar to put flowers in. She said
I was good looking and intelligent too, a rare combination she said. What did
she mean? Was it all just a dream? Was it her good intentions that led me
astray? Why do I think this way? Why doesn’t she care? Is she supposed to? Did
I make all of this up? This sucks. I feel terrible. I’m losing sleep. I’m
talking to my best friends. It still hurts. That feeling that everything was
going to be good and that someone would be there to talk about the things that
I cared about. She was going to do me a world of good and seemed to know what
was going on. We shared silent communication at a play. I thought it a good
sign and remembered to talk about it later. It all seems so funny, this idea
that I could live here because I met a girl. What was I thinking? How could
anything this good really happen to me? Who would want to stay and listen to me
analyze everything all the time. Who has time to put up with my pathetic
attempts at charm and good humor? Obviously she doesn’t. I just don’t care
anymore. I need a cigarette. I bought them for her and now I’m smoking them all
the time. My fingers are shaking and my heart is still aching. This rhyme is
criminally bad and there’s nothing wrong with that. Does she even know what
she’s doing to me? Does she even care? Will I ever see her again to let her
know how I feel? How she’s hurt me by blinding me with hope? Damn it.
Day 60
Open Letter to the Girl that Didn’t Want to Lead Me
On
Hey, thanks so much for not leading me on. Trust me,
I didn’t feel anything towards you at all those three nights that we kissed
passionately. Believe me it was totally meaningless when I remembered that I
scheduled you to come over and have dinner and watch a movie at my apartment on
the same day that there was a theatre audition that I wanted to go to and you
put your hand on my forehead and said “Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty more
dates.”
Day 61
What was I talking about the other day? I can’t even
remember now. I just know that I’m all good and prepped to fall in love. That’s
right. If it happens I’ll be ready. Just like I was ready to fall in love with
the girl that I ran into at the bookstore that I met at a concert several months
back. I called her a few days after I got her phone number at the show but so
did my friend. I think he scared her off. I’m really mad at him I think. I’m
not sure why now. Maybe he just scared me into thinking that what I just said
was something that I didn’t mean to say at all. Who cares. She was cute. I had
a fun time with her at the concert that’s pretty much all that matters in the
sad story of the guy who never really gets the girl in the end. So I saw her
again today and it turned out that her best friend had died that’s why she
didn’t call me back then. But she still wouldn’t let me buy her coffee today
because she’s tight with her boyfriend. I don’t know what that means exactly
but I would have loved to buy her coffee. She has one of those bodies that you
can just nibble on for a while. She’s to die for really. I guess. She said I could hold onto her
number. So, I’ll call her in six months. Won’t that be something?
Day 62
The heat tires me. I feel moody without really
knowing why. Listening to Ryan Adams old band Whiskeytown will tend to do that
to you. That kind of music makes you quietly reflect on the problems with your
life and the inherent sadness that lies, sometimes dormant, in all human
beings. When we are born, we are thrust out into a big open world, and thrown
screaming from the only home from which we have known, so it any wonder that we
can feel sadness so easily? Sadness is something that we grow up forgetting
about. Being a kid is so much fun. We don’t know sadness, only boredom. Boredom
plays at being sadness, but it is a pale and sickly cousin compared to true
depression, which is the feeling of the weight of the world on your shoulders.
A diatribe with scarcely any wit to be perceived due to the cliché’s used to be
sure, but effective nonetheless at ascertaining a meaning to it all. Remember
that nothing you do can prevent the sadness from coming on you. It just reminds
us that we are all human, but sometimes that sadness can be a shield to protect
us from greater danger, and it also lets us empathize with those who are in
desperate need of our pity and care. The sadness that I feel now is none of the
above in my own recollection, as I have enough of the kind of sadness to feel
remorse and share pity with others to fill two short lifetimes. I’m just hot
and tired and I don’t want to write, I don’t want to feel an absence of love. I
don’t want to feel anything. I would prefer for it all to end. That would be
easier.
Day 63
I had a true love one time who’s love was sweeter
than wine. She left me alone now my mind is my home but im here all alone.
Alone in my bed I cry on my head and I sing aloud for the pain to take me away.
Why cant I despise this feeling inside? Why can’t I shake myself and make this
dream go away? It all seems so quaint, but God damn it, it aint these feelings
and things of mine.
Day 64
I’ve lost feeling right now. I feel as if a part of
my body has slipped off and fallen away. My soul aches and longs for love and
affection. She told me I was theatrical. What does that mean exactly? Why do
you tell me “hi” if you want to ignore me and despise me as being less than
worth your time? What kind of heartless creature are you anyway? Can you so
stand the sight of yourself in the mirror that you can crack a smile? I hope that
the dream that passes from your lips is one of sweet sorrow and of penance for
your loathsome ways. I can’t believe I like you. The actions of the heart can’t
be controlled, and I don’t wish to bring mine under submission. The pain makes
me stronger; with each hammer blow to my soul I only grow stronger. I’m weaker
right now but it gives me the fortitude to go on, to look for that love which I
know will surround me if I seek it out. I’m a broken and shattered vessel
that’s looking for a home. Please won’t you take me in? I won’t use up much
room. Your floor looks like it would make a nice bed. I’ll earn my keep. You
won’t even notice me around. Just love me and scratch my ears once in a while.
If you prick me I bleed. If you hit me I feel it. I have feelings. I have pain.
I have sickness. I have disease. I am the great American dream. That dream is
alive in me right now. It tells me to go on and ignore the stop signs put ahead
by life and to go on crying and striving through the pain and agony and depression
and unbelief. I believe. I must believe. I want so badly for you to love me.
Day 65
Grind your teeth. Dry your eyes. Wake up from your
sleep. When the sun arises. And don’t you forget to call me. I know you can’t
remember everything. But don’t you forget to call me. I like it when you close
your eyes and think about the stars in the skies. You’re beautiful when you
turn your head and suddenly the black turns to red. I wanna die when you’re
near me. I could just fall asleep and never wake up when im in your arms
tonight. Sing me to sleep. A sad little song. A song full of hope and dreams.
And when I awake I know you’ll be gone and I’ll wipe the rain off my sleeve. I
don’t want to pretend but I try hard anyway. Why does it have to be this way?
Don’t you go sailing into the wind. You’ll only come back right where we began
and don’t you forget to call me. We’ll go for a walk or use our 10 speed bikes.
I won’t say a word if that’s what you like. Just be near me now. Just glance my
way. Your crushed velvet smile I get carried away. Just thinking about you.
Don’t know what to do. I can’t wait for next week.
Day 66
Sometimes its good to feel like somebody important.
Day 67
I would like to take this time personally to thank
myself for being so great. I mean really, how good am I? It’s absurd to think
that I could be any better. After all, according to God and the Bible I’m
perfectly and wonderfully made. Unfortunately this also means that I’m not
better than most of you, just different. That’s okay. I know a lot of people
like to act like they’re better than certain people and have ways of acting
around them, which mainly involve ignoring them and making them go away. Im
sure this hurts those people who are treated that way. Well, at least it hurts
the people who are too stupid to realize that they are being ignored.
Day 68
Well this was certainly one more day that I don’t
have to spend the rest of my life worrying about. The whole thing just blew by.
I ate turkey. I watched a bad movie. I got fussed at for something little. I
listened to boring stories. I ate cold turkey. I put up with people that amuse
me for no good reason. I watched my dad get offended over being told he eats
too much popcorn. I ate pumpkin pie. I went to a crowded bathroom and relieved
myself. I pretended to care, and I did a pretty good job of it.
Day 69
I got this idea in my mind that maybe I am worth
something after all. I know I can come up with things that people like hearing.
Maybe I can come up with things that they’ll like seeing too. Am I a complete
failure? Am I too young to be a complete failure? Even people who are complete
failure’s have at least passed or done something. I just want to do something.
I don’t want to be stuck here anymore reliving my past failures and regrets like
some sort of big laundry list or recipe for disaster. It’s a glowing thing
inside me right now that wants to get out and explore and wonder what its like
to be free of this castaway shell inside my head right now its pounding its
pounding and I want to know what its saying so I am writing it down so that I
don’t forget because when I stop everything stops and then I don’t exist and
then it all comes crashing down and ill just want to go take a nap and eat
lunch and think about clipping my toenails and maybe bench press a few times
just for the stimulus feeling of the blood rushing through my veins just like
the ideas are rushing through my veins right now. Coursing in fact and spurring
me on to greater heights than I have previously thought possible. Come fly away
with me on my beautiful pea green boat we’ll see unicorns and angels and devils
and people arguing and people dying and people laughing at you and at me and at
different things, and it doesn’t matter because its all great, its all part of
the same old thing that we go through every day. It’s called life and now I
want to waltz in it, to drink in it, to suck it up and absorb every little
essence I can of it > I ve just now grown up and I my legs are long enough
to carry me far away but I don’t know yet where I want to go or who I want to
be. But its all just so exciting that I can hardly contain myself or my
emotions right now. I think that I could cry at the most lame of movies and be
perfectly content with myself as myself being myself and thinking to myself
what a great day this is and how beautiful it would truly be if you were here.
Day 70
Alright. Here’s where the rubber meets the road.
Here’s where it all begins. This is why I have to try. I want to love again. I
also need to follow my dreams. Why can’t they be compatible? Why is it so hard
to find matching socks in my drawer? I think underarms smell funny. What
purpose does hair underneath them serve anyway? I like good music. I like
talking about good music. I need to jump up and down sometimes. I saw Paul
Giamatti in a movie. I saw baby kissing Santa Claus. It’s the Christmas season
and the year is still young. Where is the frost on the punkin? Can you hear me
out there? Is anyone listening? Are you picking up my frequency? Cigarettes and
Alcohol will kill you, but they sure are fun aren’t they?
Day 71
Day
72
People are ridiculous. Everywhere you go they’re
always talking about something inane that doesn’t matter. They prattle on about
the weather or how badly their aunt smells when she comes out of the bathroom.
Anything but the vagaries of life. Why would they talk about that? Why would
they talk about taxation without representation? Why do they talk at all? Why
don’t they just mind their own business? I wonder what it would be like if
everyone just kept their mouth shut for a fraction of a second longer than they
had originally intended to. Would it make a difference in the world at all?
Would all that pausing actually get them to think about what they’re doing?
Would they put down their crack pipes and other harmful additives and eat in
regularly scheduled times and exercise for once? I doubt it. People everywhere
aren’t mindful of what it is that they actually do. If they found out what they
were doing, they wouldn’t care anyway. I know I don’t.
Day 73
Am I dried up? Do I have anything left to say? What
will become of my little ideas and my time wasting? Does any of this matter?
What if I died in a car wreck tomorrow? That would be so much easier than
trying to actually accomplish something for the rest of my life that may never
happen. I can see it so far off in the distant future, but it is warped like a
dream at 3 am that feels real to you in the dream but when you awake it feels
like such a slideshow such a fakery, such a tease. It is such a distortion of
true events of the future that it is disheartening. Dreams don’t come true.
Things don’t happen like they’re supposed to.
Day 74
Am I dying? Am I awake? I fear that my soul will
soon break. Please tell me what I am missing? Is there any love to be found
outside of God that can soothe a broken heart and mend the bleeding and stop
the pain and sickness? I came home from the movie tonight with a chill feeling
that my father was dead of a self inflicted wound. He uses drugs in a frequent
sort of way that add to the nagging feeling that he is slowly poisoning
himself. He has been killing himself in this way for years and it is a corrupt
dank destruction on anyone who’s path he crosses. He doesn’t seem to realize
all of this, or else he can’t quite gather the courage to face it. Either way
it all ends up the same. People get hurt, and they are crushed by this
indifference to his suffering. My mother weeps every night and prays for his
salvation from this pariah. I say this
not to shock but to confront this dread thing head on in my mind. I want it all
to just end. I need it to stop. It distracts me so often from my work. I serve
food and drink now. It feels fulfilling that I am helping people. They seem
happy. I make money. We’re all happy. Then I come home to the feeling that my
dad is dead. It’s not a good feeling. It’s a terrible rush of dread to the
psyche to the place where the soul lives in the heart of a man. To that
terrible place that many are afraid to visit. Won’t you go there with me you
twisted being and go back to that dark hole from whence you came? You accursed
sickened being of pure evil. I hate you. I hate you. I will devour you I swear
to God I will crush you beneath my feet. You are nothing but a shadow. I detest
your presence. My every breath is tainted with the thought of you. And so I go
on my separate way thinking that everything will be okay in the morning.
Day 75
How can I be so jealous? This girl that I had a
thing with for like a week gets do to entertainment reviews in a website and
I’ve never done anything like that and I can’t stand it. Maybe I should have
gone into journalism instead of just writing. But no, just writing or creative
writing was the more pure endeavor that sure turned out great. What am I so
angry about, the fact that someone I know and was with for a while is doing
something more than me or that anyone with less talent than me is doing
something. I think that’s it. I overestimate my talent. I go to the bookstores
and look at all the books on the shelf and think to myself, how come I don’t
have anything here? And then I remember. It’s because I never finish anything.
Well I’m going to finish this. Outwards will be complete one day and it’s gonna
be great and people are going to read and validify my work and then they will
think this section here to be a little bit pompous but what they don’t know is
just how scared I am that all of this will never happen and my whole life will
turn to nothing. For God’s sake I’m an actor that is almost 30 and I want to go
to New York? I must be out of my mind, but then again I have nothing else to do
or live for, why wouldn’t I want to throw my life away like that? I never had a
plan for my life, I never had an idea. I just did what I thought was fun and fit
my morality as I understand it under my religious relationship with Jesus. But
that didn’t work out too well because I wasn’t listening to him for a long time
and I didn’t have a best friend or for that matter anyone to talk to for so
many years and I never realized how important and vital that was. I never knew
how much meaning in life I was missing out on. I didn’t even have a girlfriend
till my second year of college. I always used to get jealous when people would
get pulled aside to have talks with what appeared to be their significant other
because it meant that they had a significant other and they had done something
to cause the attention of a girl while I had done no such thing. Well actually
I had but there was never a girl around with the guts to ask me out they always
just flirted with me and I never knew what to do with them exactly. Can I blame
it on bad parenting? You can blame most of the worlds problems on bad parenting
if you want to, but my parents were so overprotective that they shielded me
from life. I don’t feel like I grew up until I turned 26 and I still feel like
im figuring things out that most people get by the time they’re like 23 or so.
God I’m so freekin lame.