Alright is just something that never happens.

how do you help someone who has been sick so long that the only memories they have of being healthy are nightmares that wake them up at night? its a horrible thing to watch someone waste away. it is scary and sad.

i have probably committed more of myself to this than i should have, but when you care about and love someone, there really isnt a choice is there? i give, sacrifice and compromise because i think it will make a difference. it doesnt.

i see this perfect picture. i see a beautiful girl who is smart, funny and beautiful. i see smiles that come naturally and not forced. i see bottomless potential just waiting to be realized and performed. i see happiness in blue eyes that shine even at night. i see all these things in my head. the reality is far less attractive. the reality is a veil of pleasantries over a pit of catastrophe. its harrowing and debilitating to my state of mind.

i would continue to give and to sacrifice if i was only asked. if i saw some glimmer of hope in eyes that have given up on life. but as it sits, all i have and see tells me that im struggling for something that wont come to be by my will alone and im the only one fighting.

people simply disappeared. always at night.

driving downtown today to do my monthly stops i gazed up at the horrific monoliths we commonly call skyscrapers and reveled in the thought that these are truly the tombs of the modern world. technology has its price i assume. we sacrifice the simplicity of living for the possibility of advancement of our social structure. to become united across the globe and be able to feel closer to people we do not know.

a more unified world creates competition, which is not always good and could be bad, and at the same time separates us from the connections we get when seeing each other in person. the interpersonal interactions are what enrich our lives through physical contact and simple things like the smile of a stranger. we slowly become more desensitized to the physical world and the everyday encumbrances of non-virtual struggle. the simple pleasures of life are the best things about living.

ask anyone with children and they will reflect my feelings. things so basic as paying my electric bill in person as opposed to doing it online add an air of frustration but also an endorphin high of accomplishment. waiting for 6 1/2 hours in line to renew my license plate is another of those things. it makes us slow down and think about things.

that is a lot of the reason i like to work in restaurants. it is my most preferred form of income. the people that come into where i work and get treated not just well, but like a human being instead of just some random number will know what im talking about as well. we take entirely too much for granted when we remove the physical from our lives.

for example: right now im sitting outside at a cafe and writing this. the breeze is blowing and the clouds are shading me from the hot autumn sun. there are people around me all engrossed in their own lives and conversations about whatever it is that matters to them while i click away on my keys and think about these things.

though none of this actually matters because our lives have become existences of conveniences. we are always looking for another way around that would provide us with some ideal of least resistance. i submit to you dear reader that it is these resistances that make our lives much more worth living. these head-scratcher happenings of anger and then release are the simple things in life. these nuances of the real world are what makes life what it is.

so the next time you are out at a restaurant or grocery store or some other form of customer service based medium and you have an exceptional time because the waiter/waitress or csr or whatever really enjoys their job and went out of their way to make your time enjoyable, let them know. give them a big tip or a heartfelt thank you and tell them why. let them know that you appreciate the fact that they gave a little of themselves to you for the time that you spent together and that it either made your life a little better, if just for a moment or a day. believe me, though i work a mostly thankless job, sometimes a smile from someone who seemed a bit unhappy when they came in lets me know that i have done something, not just for myself, but for someone else as well.

back to one

The Double Life of Veronique. quite possibly one of the best movies ever made. it won a great many awards including best actress at cannes film festival for Irene Jacob.

Krzysztof Kieslowski had very unique way of showing the world and its inhabitants and their little idiosyncrasies. he had such a romantic way of seeing everyday life. watching his movies make me realize that i was born about a decade too late and on the wrong continent. i doubt that france or poland or the rest of europe for that matter are still as innocent as there were depicted in his movies. granted, nothing is like it is in the movies. especially not the people. neither in appearance or attitude. irene jacob is so amazingly sexy and alluring in the double life of veronique and in Red.

kieslowski is director who put forth a romantic purity of environment, situation and character. the woman of my dreams is irene jacob circa 1991. if only i could turn back the clock from right now to then.

alas i am too old now though. i feel the weight of memories upon my heart and body. the pressure of too many failed chances at happiness and fulfillment. ive gone from casual imbiber of of temporary trysts to hardened and calloused broken hearted hater of passion. i can look at these movies, now almost 20 years old and appreciate all of the beauty and artistry involved and also know that none of it will ever exist again. i have missed my chance(s).

this is not your grave, but you are welcome in it

so many things i have been wanting to say that i have had no clear picture in my brain or how to give voice to these thoughts. nothing quite says "indecision" like not being able to organize my thoughts into cohesive words.

im quite sure that i sat down with something to write about but that has now changed. i started watching The Golden Compass and it reminded me of the Books. the book(s), just like every other movie based on a book, the written form is vastly superior.

i need not tell you anything about the books for the wikipedia link does a fine job of that. if anyone knows anything about me, you will know why i like these books. i just love the interplay between a fantasy based in a similar and yet very different world to ours.

i have to admit that a world where the Soul exists as a creature outside the body is quite romantic. it would be an amazing thing to no just have visual and definitive proof of the soul, but the ability to befriend it. it is considered an unspeakable faux pas to touch another persons Dæmon with your bare hands.

all this was a bit inspired by the scores of compliments that i got from wearing one of my more... abrasive shirts. the Place that i got the shirt from is no long in business, but it has joined with another company that has some similar items. most notably This One which i also have but is much more tame than one i wore which has pictographical representation of a cross=swastika. kind of like This but more more simple, cut and dry. it warmed my heart to have so many people tell me that they liked my shirt.

perhaps the world is finally waking up to the realization that god is a crutch and a hinderance. that belief in a power greater than the self. power of the self is the only true freedom any of us have. to be independent of a faith that demands guilt and subservience. never will i serve.

in my ocean, the water is frozen

so i have come to discover a very interesting and disturbing fact about myself; i am a hypocrite. its widely said that everyone is a hypocrite of some sort, though most folks are reluctant to admit it. it was a fairly eventful thing when i realized that i was. i didnt want to accept it.

it started out as a a rant that i was about to go off on people for when i have the realization that i am guilty of the same things that i accuse other people of. it has taken me a day to really accept and admit it. i hate it. i dont like it, and yet at the same time, i am quite reluctant to change it. so i cant very well condemn people for doing the same things that i do. it sucks, quite a bit. my pompous high horse seems a lot less high now.

discovering this fact has caused me to examine a lot more about myself and will continue to get me to keep examining some of my more obvious pet peeves.

it is a humbling thing to know that you are just as much of an asshole and hypocrite as everyone else. breaking that delusion is hard and harrowing and i must use it to better myself in the process. i only hope that i can, for i am quite lazy and it would be far easier for me to just write it off and go about my normal days. not that im claiming anymore to be better than anyone else, but i do think that things that are my opinions are well within my rights to express, whether they are of popular acknowledgement or not. i just need to make sure that i dont condemn others for doing the same thing, no matter how stupid they are.

silent, obedient consent...

on any given school night, on any given day of the week, at any given 24 hour gas station, one would find the most interesting and or curious people in the very small hours of the morning. that time when the bulletproof glass sits firmly in place between customer and counter person. it is an interesting time for only the truly bored or desperate are out and about. that makes for a strange conglomeration of people in one location.

such as the minivan full of Meth Heads that i parked next to to go in. 4 girls, 1 guy. it was an odd mix from the start. the girls, women, whatever werent to the point of their addiction that they had lost all sex appeal, though they were toeing the line quite hard. i could see how a John wouldnt mind buying their services at a discounted rate instead of paying full price for a more, shall we say, upscale, woman. and though they had not reached the point of no return yet, it was on the horizon. the friend inside on a munchie/sugar/cigarette run. she was wearing a quite sexy, in any other circumstance, black outfit. her appeal was a constant shifting of sex appeal crossed with revulsion. it was a virtual nightmare to behold as she was sipping her icee swirl of strawberry and coke trying to put a normal soda top on the cup that should have been a domed top and tried to manhandle her overstuffed bag of goodies, that she just paid for with wadded and wrinkled bills, back to her minivan full of her fellow addicts and whores.

it is always a fun excursion to go out when most everyone else is safely tucked in their warm and cozy beds. random spontaneity is something that should never be forgotten for it is one of those simple things that makes this life worth living.

i close today with a great and inspiring monologue from V for Vendetta:

"An inch - it is small and it is fragile, and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us. I hope that, whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you."

miraculously unharmed

its so strange to me that the older i get the less things i find amusing. i cant seem to recall the last time that i had a good laugh. a fall on the floor, face hurting and hyperventilating, side splitting laugh session. its so odd to me. i could laugh my ass off not too long ago. it seemed there was a lot more joy in the world before now. i attribute this to the weight of years pressing on me. the burden of too much emotion felt for too long.

some people wear their life times on their flesh via wrinkles and age spots. some people wear it in their actions like the cougars and the midlife crisisers who buy sports cars. i wear scars on my emotions. scars on my heart. this build up of tissue and heart ache accumulate like cancer on the mind. they poison the emotions and the life. they saturate the fiber of our being making them become more sullen and distant from our lives.

its kind of funny to see these things and still not be able to do anything about them. they are facts of life. we know that we will grow older. we know that we will die and yet we are unable to do anything about it. we have to accept what is unchangeable or ignore it. fate is non-existent except what our subconscious mind makes for us. we make our destinies out of how we live our lives. we determine where we will go and what will happen to us. we have the power and yet, most of the time we deny it or simply do not realize it. it is a horrible thing to be listless and floating with no end in sight.

our lives bear on them a horrible burden. the burden of choice. it is so much easier to be told and let along like cattle. it is infinitely more difficult to have to choose our path. decisions are a difficult enemy to overcome. and yet all i can do is hope that i make the right ones and the wrong ones dont hurt as much as they used to.