Something About Dishes

For full disclosure, please note the only reason this entry exists is because there is a pile of dishes waiting for me out in the sink. Dishes that will not and can not wait until tomorrow as all the plates I use to feed my cats are among them. Three cats that have yet to be fed for the night.

I have much to tell about the space between our last meeting and now. Many tiny little lessons about myself and life have been learned. Some I would love to share, had I half a working brain cell to gather the greater meaning out of them all. Things have been rough round these parts, but I feel like I'm riding the tail end now.

All of this because I feel like I am greatly lacking in purpose while simultaneously feeling I should be one hundred percent defined as a human being. Everyone else has these goals and so to do I, I guess. It's as if I'm waiting for permission or for someone to clear the path, at least point me in the right direction!

All of this is a matter for a later time. My mother is trying to sleep in the other room, and I have some very important dishes to tend to.

Perfection Obsession

Whenever you read some of those real life stories of people surmounting tremendous odds, becoming better persons...blah blah, it seems so straight forward. Like it was some great healing epiphany that fixed everything and there was never any bad ever again...the end. So naturally someone (like myself) will remain under the assumption that we have yet to reach that pivotal point. 

We all seem to be suffering from this delusion making life all about getting past the present. Perfection and higher understanding are like the carrot dangling in front of us our whole existence. Somehow we are supposed to reach a point of limitless satisfaction when we can look and say its all done, and feel totally complete in ourselves.

I have lived like that, survived by this for most of my life. "If only I get over this one thing, my life will be fine." "If this situation just goes away my fragile self esteem will be totally healed." An endless series of hurdles stretching out for an eternity. Sure each step has ultimately made my existence much more enjoyable (MUCH MORE), but not a single one of them has been the great fix all I was waiting for.

And thus the truth is revealed, there is no such point in life. Poll any of these authors and ask them how life has been after their book, I doubt they could tell you that they have never again suffered heartbreak or despair. There ain't no way that they have been without the occasional crisis or general bad day. Life is life, and it goes on with its ups and downs no matter how many great epiphanies you go through. To be entirely without any pain is to be dead.

I say this now because I am at the place myself. I have jump/crashed through my own hurdles and have reached the place I long held to be the point in my life where all things would be good. But I still cry silently late at night. I get angry and feel destructive just as I used to. I'm stuck still with the same overwhelming fear and anxiety of doing wrong and being wrong.

Bottom line, I'm still the same fucked up me. That sounds sad and depressing, but it really isn't. You see once we get past this obsession with perfection and societies need to tell us we have to be full finished people at the start of adulthood, we can see the purer reason for everything. The point of all these challenges of life is to grow from them. Make the best of the things you cannot control, do the best with the things you can, and strive to know the difference between the two (sound vaguely familiar?).

Nine PM

Been awhile hasn't it? I guess I'm just too busy living life, or more accurately put recovering from it. But in any case that is irrelevant. Well over a month later I'm still here and still myself (to the best of my knowledge), leaving me no different or better than I was while writing my last post.

Four minutes gone, and I have no other reason for this entry other than the fact I felt like it. I can think of so many other things I should and could be doing right now, consider yourself special dear void that I am risking house, health and sanity to bring you some more random words.

I suppose there isn't any more to say than I am still here. I'm still thinking. I'm still moving forward. Perhaps another day soon I'll have more wisdoms to share. For now this is enough.

Waiting

Its either really late or really early, I'll leave you to decide. I should be in bed fast asleep. Don't feel all that far from it actually, just not quite there yet. Still too many thoughts pouncing in my poor wee skull for a peaceful slumber. So I come to you dear void, to banish all excess energy (good or bad) into this vacuum of cyberspace.

As the title so simply suggests, I am in waiting. And I actually have a pretty decent clue as to what I am waiting for. You see I am currently in this rare fickle spot in my life. For the fist time I know just what I want and where I am going. I have a clear and achievable path set ahead that I look forward to without any trace (yet) of my usual fear.

Patience however, is not strong in me. In order to have the clear and simple path, I have to find mine deep...deep inside me. The program I am in has many benefits, school paid in full and job placement assistance. But only if I follow the rules and keep with the process they set. No striking out on my own, no deviation from the plan. All of which I am happy to fulfill just at the chance to better my circumstances.

It has been over a decade since I had any kind of handle on my life. I know in my head that there is no harm in the waiting, but my heart wants to make up for all the time lost. As if could live the past ten years over again in a few short weeks. Logically I know better, but that logic doesn't translate so well to the rest of me.

The past is lost, the future doesn't even exist. All I have now is this moment in front of a computer screen. The only consolation I have is that I know I'm on the right path. Of course there is no proof that I am, just a stern faith that maintains some sort of sanity.

Blown

Weird night, nervous energy coursing through the house. Could be all the sugar I've ingested today, the packed day I have planned tomorrow, or the fact that our trusty bathroom nightlight just blew.

In its final death throes, the damn thing exploded the bulb in its base. Popped the glass top right off and filled it with soot. This was no older bulb in need of changing either, it was one we had put in not three hours before as we were leaving the house.

Nothing was destroyed, not a trace of smoke or fire aside from the bulbs inside. But I can't stop thinking of how it would of been if it had caught on something. Maybe the wood frame around the mirror, the cardboard box holding the sink we have yet to install, or the walls themselves.

Its hardly something you think of happening...until it does. Even a minor, almost non-existent, scare like this makes you examine just what you have to loose. Three cats, several irreplaceable family heirlooms, pictures dating back well over a century, books...obviously the list goes on forever.

Every physical and material thing that defines me, my history and my family is all in this one house. All the eggs in one basket so to speak. So how do they do it? How do people loose all these precious things without loosing themselves? For its happened many times before, and it will many times again.

For that matter, how has society come to define individuals by their possessions anyway? Why does this room I'm in scream ME. Am I somewhere in the papers containing all my story ideas, or in the miscellaneous junk and knick-knacks I tuck all around? Logically no, but would I feel the sting of loosing these any less knowing this? 

I'm in too deep, even for my watery Pisces self. Time to let this matter sleep dear void, and so shall I.

Late Night Musings

I find it interesting, considering there is a perfectly good (if dusty) desk not four feet away with better lighting and seating, that I remain here. Sprawled out on my bed stomach first, my back aching to be flat and buried in my mattress.

You see dear void, this is it. This is the position I always find myself in around now. Tired and in want of a quiet mind, I am safest just as I am. Consider it my own personal fetal position. The only thing that changes is what I keep in front of me in times like these.

Tonight its my laptop, tomorrow it might be a book, a journal (of which I have many) the following night. Whatever dispels my nervous energy in the most efficient manner is what I choose. Already online and curled up nicely in bed, my mothers humming/snoring/something the only distracting/comforting sound I hear, another entry seemed convenient enough.

Now with three paragraphs that say and mean absolutely nothing, what kind of point could I make? Is there even a point to be made?

Condensed

I will not waste your time trying to explain who and what I am. Both should become apparent to you within the following posts. You already know my name as it is the very title of this blog. And so dear void, essentials now covered, we may begin.

My purpose is simple. To be. What that is and how I am to accomplish this remains to be seen. Being like the blank slate and blank of mind, writing this entry is trying to create something that refuses to exist. Even as its already on the page in plain black in white. Nope, nothing here.

So in your best interest and mine, lets leave it at this shall we? A random blog in a vast vacuum of cyberspace likely to be read only by myself. Goodnight void, maybe tomorrow will bring better things worthy of retelling.