What it Is

I have proven myself a failure at being consistent. Methinks this should be a place for me. Maybe not the collected me that makes sense. More like the me that likes to be. To wonder, to plan, to think, to understand. I want to write everyday. It is my hope that this is the blog that will facilitate that goal.

I dont make any promises. You could still call this my creative blog. But I'd like to think of it more as the debris that is left behind after all the normal thoughts blow through my consciousness.

Don't expect it to always make sense or be worth your time. I think the main goal if for it to be my sanity.

Mottled Light

Mottled Light
the way my mind feels sometimes, waiting for a breakthrough.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Entry Seventy-Six

This is my life.

This is where I am.

This is WHO I am.

I can't say that for certain, of course. There is no telling whether or not I am the person who can best say who I really am anyway.

The combination of exhaustion, extremely sub-par food, and a general tendency to worry about everything has given my stomach cause to turn.

On the plus side, there is nothing better than a good two months to make things better one way or another.

Life is never perfect. We know this. Whoever "we" are. But the collective and ambiguous "we" phase in and out of stages in our lives. I have almost completely phased off planet "yup, that's him" and back onto the mother ship of rationality aka reality. Picture me in a Star Trek episode being phased up to the Enterprise and all you can see of me on the planet is a hazy outline and wave lines of energy.

I cannot honestly say that I will get me and my teaching companion back to our home safely tonight. Too bad his age prevents him from relieving me of the responsibility. Who came up with that rule?

They did. And we're not even going to go into who they really are.

Add to everything else a frustration at this keyboards inability to produce parentheses. I do love parentheses.

I try to be a good listener. It's true that "we" like to hear "ourselves" talk. It's a human flaw. But sometimes you want to have someone listen to YOU.

Too bad I choose the wrong people for that.

Oh well.

This wasn't very productive.

I miss family holidays.