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| So here's the low down on the life I lead. Seeing as how it's been a while I guess I'll try to think back and see if anything has drastically changed in the last month and a half.
Ah, ... so. Yeah up until the last week or so things were essentially the same as ever. I did however tell my boss at the restaurant where to go and I was "let go." This is awesome news regardless of the economy. I spent a couple of days being a bum and then I went to an audition for Terror Behind the Walls.
I got the job, of course. So now I'm a ghoulish zombie prison patient person thing. It's pretty rockin', not gonna lie. And the only drawbacks that I've come across so far are consistently sore throat from screaming at people and a pay cut. This last bit might not be the worst thing, because I tend to spend more thriftily when I don't have superfluous amounts of dollar bills to throw at stupid shit.
So, now that everyone's all caught up on me I'm going to try that sleep thing. Probably won't work for the next couple hours, but hey, we've all got our own aspirations and no one can tell you that your priorities are out of whack if you're happy. | | |
| So I found out the other day that a guy I knew fell from the fourth story of a fire escape with, I'm assuming, his girlfriend. I didn't know it was him until yesterday when his girlfriend texted me to ask if I was going to attend the services.
Then I went out after work and hit a couple bars, and at 3 am got the bright idea to trip my face off when I had to go to work at 330 the next afternoon.
It wasn't what I was expecting. That isn't to say it was bad, but it wasn't good either. I guess in lieu of recent news, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.
I guess it felt as though every emotion there was pulled on my heart until the only thing to keep from exploding was to harden itself in anger. Anger at everything. I was angry for hours. I couldn't tell if it was that I was tired of being angry, or if I had to fake it being at work. But I eventually became lighthearted. In fact, I thought that everything was funny in an absurdist comedy sort of way.
I can't tell if I'm simply storing those feelings away for another time, or if I have truly come to some understanding that gives me foundation to stand on.
Before work though, I talked to my mom to see if she could drop me off at the funeral on saturday. When I told her what happened, she replied as follows: Most people don't see so much death at such a young age.
Not sure what to do with that. It took me so off guard at the moment that I nearly broke down completely. I thought that maybe if it were standard that I should be expected to simply cope and move on, which I was fine with. With that not reality, what do I do? I've resorted to keeping myself caged up from view of other people.
I need a vent but the feeling of people pitying me is daunting. I can't stand the look of empathy from people, especially if I think that they don't especially give a shit, but rather they feel as though it's something to empathize with.
Then again, I push people away so that I can stay strong and not seem ever vulnerable. What's that getting me?
I'm getting way too close to the 30 hour mark. So I'm going to do something I should've a long time ago.
Don't waste a moment when it's given to you, but don't rush so fast you miss it either. | | |
| It hurts terribly to think of all the moments you could revisit and be completely blissful for however long it lasted as though they were dreams. It's almost as if the instant you pass from one experience to the next, it becomes nothing but a memory that fades quickly or slowly with no rhyme or reason just as the time you flew with your favorite celebrity and long dead relative through the clouds above a beautiful pacific ocean. When you wake and get on with your day you perhaps remember that you dreamt of water vast and clear.
I suppose it's also how we survive. To think of such a time as simply a dream that passed and could in fact be revisited in the slumber that takes up a third of one's lifetime grants us hope that reality just doesn't support.
I guess it is the curse of humanity that hopes and dreams, while they act as buoys along our path in open water, can also be the object of our insanity. They keep us afloat, but apart from anyone else, and blind to all the potential dangers below the surface.
My wish is that my hopes and dreams don't keep me floating farther from other people, even if it brings me closer to times past and dearly missed. Those are dead and gone. I'm due to imagine new dreams and hopes that will one day invariably become part of an imagination grieved for. I suppose that's why the present is a gift.
Don't try to enjoy your gift alone. It just doesn't work like that. If you can truly miss someone, you'll never be alone. | | |
| Researchers from the University of California, San Diego, used high-tech scans to compare microscopic changes in brain white matter in teens aged 16 to 19...
The researchers wrote that brain white matter tracts were "more coherent in adolescents who binge drink and use marijuana than in adolescents who report only binge drinking" ...
... it's "possible that marijuana may have some neuroprotective properties in mitigating alcohol-related oxidative stress or excitotoxic cell death."
-Robert Preidt
Health Day | | |
| It's funny what you remember. And that preference matters little if not at all. Out of all the singular moments of your life, pages of the book that is your story, you will invariably remember certain things forever. And other things will come like a Mack truck running a red light, seemingly unconnected to any part of your current goings on, but powerful nonetheless.
What does it mean when you can't seem to forget terrible moments, while other seemingly unimportant but fun moments always pop up throughout the day?
It's impossible to prepare for what's going to happen. So why do I feel like all the moments that have led me here in my life couldn't have happened any other way? ...
It's yearning to get out. | | |
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