FYI.
I’ve found myself slipping into the “woe is me” catagory of writing. It hasn’t been that awful. But it’s been a little vague, tragi-poetic (a term I have just made up), and far too introspective for my taste.
Not proud.
That shit stops here.
March 2011
18 posts
Play
what will we do when the world starts to burn?
Die, like everyone else. Cheers!
Fed To Death
Say Anything
Fed to Death by Say Anything
The Track Race.
It’s weird to think about how time passes and feelings change. To see how new environments change relationships, and how the prominent people in your life start to shift around, and rearrange in a way you no longer recognize. But the sad part about all this is, that no amount of self-awareness can prevent this change. I find myself buried within a hurricane of inner conflict, stemmed from my inability to let go of the past, and my fear of the future. I decipher my life and my feelings and question my decisions. I psychoanalyze myself, judging myself and the reasons I do things. I think of things that could happen and try to figure out how to deal with them. I try to organize the present in preparation of the future. I try to decide which road to take before I’ve even hit the fork in the road. Then I judge myself for my planning, egging myself to just relax and let things be. This results in my questioning my decision to do so, wondering if it stems from some emotional place of resentment. Needless to say, all I end up doing is running myself into a circle. I race myself ragged in a fruitless attempt to stop time and answer questions that cannot be answered; to predict mistakes that may not even be mistakes, to see the future and to predict what will make me happy. But the truth is, I don’t know. There’s no answer. And as terrified as I am to make a mistake, I know that some time I’m going to have to let it go and take things as they come.
And that scares the living shit out of me.
“I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired
I’ll laugh my whole way through the hurricanes and fire
That’s why you don’t wanna bring me down,
That’s why you don’t wanna bring me down” —Hurricane and Fire Survival Guide, Cloud Cult
I’ll laugh my whole way through the hurricanes and fire
That’s why you don’t wanna bring me down,
That’s why you don’t wanna bring me down” —Hurricane and Fire Survival Guide, Cloud Cult
There's No Danger in an Open Door.
I’ve become a dangerous person. I tend to read people very well, predict their moves. But I don’t call them out or put an end to it, I go along with it. What makes it worse is that I do this merely to watch those around me play their games, thinking I’m clueless while I chuckle, amused by my owned heightened sense of knowledge. I let things play out, just to see where things will lead; how people will act. I make questionable choices, knowing that when push comes to shove, I’ll never make the overtly reckless decision.
But being at the edge of nowhere scares me, especially because I find this concept so hard to explain to people. In this little bubble I currently reside in, everything is taken so seriously, and I can’t help but feel judged by every decision I make. I can’t help but feel analyzed. So when I make my questionable decisions out of curiosity and wonder, and I can’t help but feel like I am perceived as a hypocrite. But what those who judge don’t understand is that opinions on social situations are always changing, there’s no way to know how you’ll feel tomorrow. There’s no telling what will bother you from one day to the next.
That’s why I don’t close doors, I leave them wide open. I journey through little hallways of possibilities to watch people scramble for their exits while I chuckle to myself and skip through the next open door with open arms, knowing I can always meander right back out if things get too scary.
Because there’s no danger in an open door, as long as you’re prepared with an exit strategy.
“Shotgunning anyone in this room would be the moral equivalent of killing a car, a vacuum cleaner, a Barbie doll. Erasing a computer disk. Burning a book. Probably that goes for anybody in the world. We’re all such products.”
—Invisible Monsters
“The irony of religion is that because of its power to divert man to destructive courses, the world could actually come to an end. The plain fact is, religion must die for mankind to live. The hour is getting very late to be able to indulge in having in key decisions made by religious people. By irrationalists, by those who would steer the ship of state not by a compass, but by the equivalent of reading the entrails of a chicken. George Bush prayed a lot about Iraq, but he didn’t learn a lot about it. Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking. It’s nothing to brag about. And those who preach faith, and enable and elevate it are intellectual slaveholders, keeping mankind in a bondage to fantasy and nonsense that has spawned and justified so much lunacy and destruction. Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don’t have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it’s wonderful when someone says, “I’m willing, Lord! I’ll do whatever you want me to do!” Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas. And anyone who tells you they know, they just know what happens when you die, I promise you, you don’t. How can I be so sure? Because I don’t know, and you do not possess mental powers that I do not. The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions is not the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt is humble, and that’s what man needs to be, considering that human history is just a litany of getting shit dead wrong. This is why rational people, anti-religionists, must end their timidity and come out of the closet and assert themselves. And those who consider themselves only moderately religious really need to look in the mirror and realize that the solace and comfort that religion brings you actually comes at a terrible price. If you belonged to a political party or a social club that was tied to as much bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, violence, and sheer ignorance as religion is, you’d resign in protest. To do otherwise is to be an enabler, a mafia wife, for the true devils of extremism that draw their legitimacy from the billions of their fellow travelers. If the world does come to an end here, or wherever, or if it limps into the future, decimated by the effects of religion-inspired nuclear terrorism, let’s remember what the real problem was that we learned how to precipitate mass death before we got past the neurological disorder of wishing for it. That’s it. Grow up or die.”
—Bill Maher (via mcgovernator)
“Shape the pain into something great
Disintegrate and reintegrate
Let’s go live like Sunday morning cartoons
Grow Christmas trees from tombs” —2x2x2 by Cloud Cult
Disintegrate and reintegrate
Let’s go live like Sunday morning cartoons
Grow Christmas trees from tombs” —2x2x2 by Cloud Cult
Walking Flaws.
There is no better excuse for childish behavior than saying, “I’m in theater.” Actors in school settings use it all the time. When someone does something socially unacceptable, one will say, “Oh, It’s okay. We’re in theater! We’re all weird.” Then I vomit everywhere.
I suppose in some regard this bullshit excuse is valid since one could say that actors are a group of adults who never stopped playing make-believe. But I can assure you, those who use this vile excuse aren’t thinking in such self-deprecating terms*. This is why it is utterly shocking to me that actors, who know better than anyone the depth and complexity of acting, use a phrase that dilutes everything theater should be to an over-simplified term that strips it of all creditability. It’s sad to listen to actors disparage the name of theater by using it as an excuse for inadequate social skills and inability to behave like adults. It’s even sadder to walk within an institution where those with the smallest brains wear the biggest egos.
The backstage area becomes a zoo of 21 year old adults gossiping like preteen girls, men who act like prepubescent boys throwing rocks at girls; a three-ring circus where everybody thinks they’re the ringleader. But much like in a circus, when you’re in the ring, all the action seems relevant. But on the outside, it all looks ridiculous. And truthfully, it is.
It pains me to watch this crowd of people, closer to entering the real world and supposedly more prepared than I, walking around like they own the place, then turning around and acting more like a child than I’ve ever behaved in my entire life. I watch these monsters become so heavily involved in their own delusions and self-written melodramas, that they forget that the world can see their flaws, even if they can’t. Every day that I witness this parade of walking flaws is a day that I am reminded of why I will never cease to be self-analyzing and to be introspective; to edit myself to fit a social eloquence that I can be proud of. This way I can use the phrase, “I’m in theater” not as an excuse, but as a declaration.
Footnotes:
*Egos too big to view the trade objectively
