September 25, 2010

It's autumn, I know, as the days are full of somber blue-gray clouds and a firm and steady hand holding my head just below the surface. This morose sort of listless wondering at myself and at the universe consumes most every spare moment of my day. These are the times when I wish people could remember me for the person that I want to be. I'm not angry. I just don't know how to explain that every morning I wake up and stare at the ceiling and I remember that there is no where I want to be right now. It is so tiresome to explain to one's self daily that life doesn't end when the cold creeps into your blood and your bones and your heart. It is just a season, really, I know. Yet it is often the unravelling of every shred of sanity that might have existed were it not for my disastrously convoluted limbic system.

Still - it is interesting to note that despite an increased knowledge of body functions and neural processes I have so little control over any of it. Helpless, or hopeless, or simply at the mercy of my emotions. It really has been ages since I have had to feel so much. I try to be a muted version of myself. I try very hard. Most of the time, it works. I can't be this raw and function on a daily basis.

I want to be madly in love but I know (I just know) it would only end something like this:
Some day I would be left with nothing but a pile of jumbled words. They would look something like a love letter mixed with an apology but, mostly, it would be a long list of regrets. It would not be the verbal tethers or the agendas with chains - but we'd have always been islands and I would hate to really cross the bridge. I'd have all of this time for you trapped inside of the things I thought I had to do.

I have this vision of empty drawers - of vacant parking lots and perpetual nightmares about all of the things I meant to tell you before you left.

Lately I have spent some time discussing life on a smallish scale with the younger humans in my life. In a vain attempt to absorb some vitamin D - and perhaps remember that it is always the small things that are most important - an impromptu blanket gathering was held in the middle of the lawn. In what can only be described as pathetically hilarious british accents we dissected the nature of the lawn itself - weeds, grass, bugs and all. It would seem that the universe, when you are four, has very little to do with melancholy and very much to do with finding a four leaf clover.

35 today
is the warmest 35 ever
95 degrees and the Halloween candy is
already a month old

mom is writing her no-good stepson
in jail for tax evasion
never visited after dad died
her letters to me last even less now
I guess they never stop being your children

Unit Two is Poetry: Literary Analysis
oh no say my colleagues,
they could never be able to write a
five paragraph essay...
facepalm

smoke-free means you stay perpetually busy
filling the hole with something else
walk, run, climb, bike in place,
and if you eat something that has a carb to protein ratio of 4:1 less than 15 minutes after a strenuous workout, well, that food will be converted to pure energy

I know it's going to take years, maybe my whole life, to undo this

when you said I couldn't wait to my claws into the next man,
you weren't that far off

the next steps: a house, some kittens, guitar lessons, a graduate degree...
perhaps we might, then, travel?

Oh dear shit, I cannot think with this man playing his angry music and cursing at his Madden, and I have papers to grade, and I bought us tickets to see Lewis Black tonight, and there is simply too much to do....

What I was trying to say is this: I wonder if life...

• once you've decided the person you will grow old with
• once you know you're not leaving an inheritence to a progeny
• once you admit that, even though you've changed jobs, you have changed much at all

...is really about little projects that inject variety and challenge back into your life. Don't want kids? Get a pet? Tired of upstairs neighbors thumping about at 4am? Buy your own damn place! You're supposed to be a grownup for Christ's sake! Stop wearing all those Threadless t-shirts. Start shopping at L.L.Bean and wearing ergonomic shoes!

I digress. I've love my 30s better than my 20s loved me, so I am sated. The longer I'm around, though, the more I'm finding that there are less and less norms I recognize. There doesn't seem to be a lot of social stigmas anymore; anything is possible, because there's a viral video supporting it, someone Tweeted it, so it must be true, and even though we can't seem to rectify common sense things, we know soon we'll be able to take a trip to the moon, or power everything with wind and water...if the price is right.

Still, I have no real idea where we're going or what's going to happen when we get there. I hope someone brought a map and some cookies.

Thanks for 10 years of bliss, e2. I still have a lot love for you, even as I admit to myself that, shortly after this node posts, it will be outdated.

I just finished raking all the acorns off of my lawn. After a little noding break I will going to paint the ceiling in my room. Right now I am noding playing guitar eating chicken Parmesan and having a conversation, now that's multitasking! I also got a new profile picture on Facebook, not that that matters to any of you, seeing as you can't see it. I have come to terms with the fact that I am officially addicted to noding. I love doing it and I can't stop. I will never stop. There is no reason to stop. I am doing a good thing by contributing to the database, at least that's my rationale. I stayed up all night last night watching Dazed And Confused and seasons 1 and 2 of Seinfeld. Maybe that is why I am so tired. Or maybe It's all in my head.

As always, work was uneventful today. 12 hours of that kind of boredom can drive a man insane, luckily, I already am. This is generally a day in the life of a soldier deployed to Afghanistan... hours of waiting, sitting, finishing up work, going to bed, and waking up to do it again. It's a very structured kind of bored, I think.

After my 12 hours on I went back to my dwelling for my 12 hours off, and my roommate gave me a great idea, maybe I should move my bunk down to the bottom level, it's current user probably isn't coming back from leave. After about 15 minutes of shifting the beds around, I had a comfortable floor-level bed, I was happy.

While still in the spirit of room improvement I'd climbed up onto the bed and examined the light fixtures, neither of which on my side were working. I decided that I was tired of living in the dark half of the room, so I clambered up onto the top bunk and, with the aid of my roomie I reset the lights, and it was good.

I decided slightly later that night to skype my girlfriend and talk to her for a while when something horrible happened, my internet shat out, resulting in a confused and disgruntled me. Being disgruntled as I was, I picked up my pipe, packed it full of tobacco, lit it up, and vented my frustration in the form of shifting, swirling smoke puffs.

After my pipe had burnt out I decided "eh, today's over", so I stripped down, took a shower, and went to bed