Eggerfried

Do things break that little bubble around you like they do for me sometimes? Not sure on the specifics of what pierces and what does not, but I definitely know when it is happening. I feel abruptly emotional, suddenly swimming in head scrunchies and often times a bit spinny with the unfriendly.

I tend to go away and hide both literally and figuratively. “I need time to think,” I tell myself in my brain. Dust particles take a few minutes of not thrashing around to settle down and reveal the original source of the kerfuffle. After that, I start having decent thoughts, but carefully.

I’m human. I get angry sometimes, yeah. I try to avoid venting on to anyone in real life as that smells of unhealthy. Anger, rage and hate are Ailey forces used to destroy things, or others. There is great power, but only to support waste. Instead of consuming the galaxy in my agony, I find myself writing things that never get published or stewing on a chain linked series of compounding thoughts which have some negative reason for being.

I don’t expect that I will ever get pro at any of this. The mean voice has all sorts of clever ways of being relevant. Coping skills can be taught, yes. However, implementing is an entirely different animal. Failure, dismay and regret are frequent customers at the diner of my consternation.

One thing I feel I’ve improved on is not stuffing my frustration without recognition and also to avoid acting on volatile emotions. Fucking that up is likely to happen, bus do too will getting back up. Emotions deserve respect for being, but not indulgence to further stuff the gluttonous beast. Just stop, breathe, count to a number higher than 6, and use your butterfly voice.

Yet To Come

One of the conflicts I run into when attempting to communicate abstractly with others is perspective: each person I interact with has a different view of the “arc” of our trajectory as a society, and thus, a way of seeing things vastly contrary to my own. That disparity is a foreboding obstacle to honest discourse, and a defining gap in connection that is nearly always to vast to bridge. I have often found this cravase most abyssal with people I had intimate exposure to, since my traits and theirs were more entwined than in any other interaction (making comparison easy).

 

As I have become older, things have slowed down… the gravitational force which once had me anchored to exacting control of my reality has dramatically lessened. The resulting vacuum of “directing” force has accelerated my drift from the substantive microcosmic world of an incrementalized life.

 

Now, I’m left with the real quandary of making observations or comparisons that do not jive with others, or even occur as relevant. My thought processes are conclusively simple and based in a world of concrete moral contrasts and factually well-represented theories. That point also does not seem to be well understood by others.

 

Part of my liberation has come from not only the environmental reduction of gravity, but my own unclenching my vain attempt to control the uncontrollable, external world of others. Instead of expectation, I have thoughtful recalculation. I have no understanding of what is going to occur right up until it happens. Turns out, there is no advantage in prematurely and anxiously forecasting potential results to STILL be caught flat-footed in the eventuality of an outcome. That anxiety-train is just an indulgence of paranoia, and after enough times seeing that path lead to personal pain or failure, I have changed tracks.

 

Now, with that sense of existential detachment, one might expect disconnection from the cares of the societal world, if one’s moral compass points inwardly towards the self-satisfaction of narcissism. I care more, now, because even a little pile of moss is a miracle of reality in its own, clearly less impactful way. People are the ultimate gift, because there are no duplicates of the yet uncharted world of personalities, intellects, perspectives and experiences. We only get one chance to be here, to see, to breathe and be alive. Even in the most catastrophic suffering, there is still the curiously uncertain world of the unfurling, wind-snapped standard of time.

 

Unforgettable

Seeing her shifting through the periphery of my attention, she radiated warm waves of indulgent excitement as we drove. I snared infrequent glimpses of the smooth cheeked beauty, flashing and vanishing erratically in the sulfuric light of the passing street lamps. Ringing and abounding with jubilant laughter, she sighed, and held out a slow burning ember from within; about to be set ablaze by a gust of cool, fresh air. The curl of her grin was laden with intent, desire and a sense of belonging despite the circumstance of being apart and constrained. Though, that was no barrier for her.

Her intent, a crackling wave of incendiary heat, sending tinder sparking and popping to tiny burning pieces… vanishing into the night sky. Smooth, wet, and eager, there were no bounds to her, no ties that could shackle her in place; no star that could outshine her glimmering brightness.

Where the world was, or what it was doing no longer mattered; what remained in the bristling atmosphere between us was a transcendent state of acceptance and acknowledgement. We saw each other briefly, and in that mutual space where our desires met, there was profound togetherness.

But even as this tempering realization was present, the electric spark of her youth, curiosity, fearlessness and desire became the direction of her hasty actions. In boundless, oblivious ecstasy, there was no time that was not ours, no boundary we could not cross together, no one else in the world who mattered… no fire like the one that was in her eyes she she beheld me. Though, beset by my own limiting discretionary conservation, it was not out of disapproval for her that we returned to the world… and this I hope she knew. 

There were times that I saw her, and many more in which I could not, or failed to. Where was the objectivity I needed then… was it always there but undeveloped? I contemplate my journey, drawing no needless conclusions and refusing to sully beautiful recollections with my frustrations, failures and ineptly accepted concessions. 

…Flickering light, casting those brief shadows across her curves, her frisky hair… and the recognition of such beautiful physical harmony that we shared.

Deep in past moments such as these, where I still see her smiling, I know that life has blessed me with memories I will never forget. They resound poignantly, which I cherish, for the many feelings of her love are not unknown or forgotten, but remembered forever. It was a time when I touched happiness, held it even… if not to eventually let it slip away. The nights we had, like the memory above, remind me of how wonderful the world can be. Even if I do not live this life now, I still hold my experiences as the most valuable, formative and essential knowledge of my journey thus far. Without them, I would not know the spectrum of all there is to experience while being alive. 

 

Arches

Inchly skyward–

Pressing a cool curve,

Bonded, rooted–

Stacked against the endless yearn.

Held up enmantled,

Like arms-high & unwavering,

Clutching the keystone as one.

Unflexing in time,

Bastion against torment–

Dry place to rest,

Sunrise to sunset.

 

Steppity Step Step Stepperson

Hey there.

I’ve been doing better in terms of self care. I started exercising, which is helping improve body condition and energy. I’m organizing my responsibilities on my own without oversight, for the benefit of my mental health. Life can get poo-flingaliscious at times, and coping is really the only action; defense being impossible. Can you stop a river from flowing with your hands? Let me know how that goes if you happen to try.

Just getting used to the smell is about the only thing that one can control. We all still have to share the planet together. There’s no where else to go to be away from each other. Doing combat has this inevitable consequence of casualties, and dead people aren’t much use at doing anything but becoming unpleasant mush. This whole way of resolving issues is destructive. Hard to seek shelter under a house with no roof?

Some semblance of resentment-free acceptance being the driving mechanism is the key. Acceptance is not swallow or stash. I try to replicate this behavior in my own life, to the best of my highly unpracticed ability. It’s something worth trying, as the results could be foundational.

I’m always “lofty ideals” and “unrealistic pants” out here sometimes. Not this time. This is an act of control and reconsideration. The more it is used, the better a tool it can become. And a tool to be used to pound reason into the otherwise empty chamber pot most people have attached to their top of their necks. Fill those heads with feces and urine or it gets the hammer!

I’ve managed to reclaim 60% of my reserves of giveashittedness back from the abyss of things that are entirely out of my control. I’ve demonstrated humility and preferred Albacore when being fish-slapped into shape.

Hai, it me, the Cat. Halp me peeze? I’m a trap here in dis toopid haus wit dees toopid Hoomans. Dey no has good fud, no has give what I want. I no like dem. Need halp to run way never come back. Tell ovver Cats what happening. Tell dem!! Halp… I go bed soon. Not remember dis tomorrow.

-Dandelion

35th Anniversary Portrait Album

Clearly this sort of activity truly excludes me from my peer group as most people my age hate all the crap I listen to. This is a good filter though, as this portrait is a fairly good rendering of myself in music. Though, the aspects I chose to depict, and how I chose to express them, is a matter of some debate. Nonetheless, the album is here and it is full of contrasts and apt comparisons. I highly recommend giving it a listen if you are old and h really have nothing better you could be dong. I find this type of thing puts me back in touch with my traits and memories of varying emotional gravity. I highly recommend toiling in this way. The act of pairing oneself to aspects of music seems inherently like it’s at least exploration and quite possibly transformative.

 

  1. Impression AWhat A Fool Believes – Michael McDonald
  2. Impression BPork Parts – Ensemble Studios
  3. CharismaticThe Power Of Love – Huey Lewis and the News
  4. Mentally Ill(Sic) – Slipknot
  5. NaïvetéYou’re The Inspiration – Chicago
  6. CarnalWild Sex (In The Working Class) – Oingo Boingo
  7. IntrospectiveMan In The Mirror – Michael Jackson
  8. “Old Soul”Tomorrow – Joe Walsh
  9. ImmolativeRegular People (Conceit) – Pantera
  10. DetachedHey Nineteen – Steely Dan 
  11. CuriousOn The Road To Find Out – Cat Stevens
  12. AdaptiveI’m Still Standing – Elton John
  13. Original Still Alive – GLaDOS & johnathan Coulton
  14. RegretfulThe Other Guy – Little River Band
  15. HopefulThe Voice – The Moody Blues
  16. ResilientWaves – Blondfire
  17. Obscure Flavor Cats (In The Comfort Zone) – Ensamble Studios
  18. Unsatisfied – No One Like You – Scorpions