Sandwiches and Dirty Laundry

Why are there no songs about just feeling pretty okay and content? Prozac takes all the art out of life. Sometimes it's worth it to be a nervous wreck just to feel the depth of emotion that inspires one to create. All I create these days are sandwiches and piles of laundry.

Although something can be said for both of those things. One might argue that there is art/beauty in the disorder of dirty laundry piles and messy rooms. Or that creating a great sandwich is a real art. Not sure what they would say about creating a mediocre PBJ.

Balance is the key to real happiness. Neuroses are the key to real art. Or it is at least one of them (Please note: I'm not attempting to inspire an elitist esoteric debate about how real art is defined.)

Art is emotion. Emotional roller coasters are distressing, but there is something beautiful in being at the peak of both happiness and depression. To ride the middle is like riding the boring train ride that circles the amusement park and comes right back to where you started.

I just want to draw a picture or write an incredible wordsmithing masterpiece that portrays exactly how I feel. But these days I only feel stable, rational, content, and unemotional. And there is no art in that.

Such Great Heights

Everything looks perfect from far away...

"People are just people, they shouldn't make you nervous."

My life has been one widespread epidemic of anxiety culminating in my inability to function as an adult human being. Fear is my only constant in life.

They tell you to immerse yourself in the triggers of your anxiety. To "feel the fear and do it anyway" and then you will eventually get over it.

I confront my fears every day and it doesn't get much easier. I must be doing something wrong.

My mother loves the show The Dog Whisperer. Cesar Milan works his magic by training dogs to eradicate self-destructive behaviors. Today he was training a German Shepard to no longer be afraid of people. He used a collar that vibrated during doggy attacks of panic and it eventually corrected the undesirable mental state.

Maybe what I need is a vibration collar. Or maybe just a Neurotic Young Lady Whisperer.

~o~o~o~o~

Introversion does not fit into American society.

I've all but convinced myself that I would be happier isolated in a remote location with zero human interaction. Or at least as happy as I am with.

I'm not sure whether it is not true.

~o~o~o~o~

Fear is the path to the dark side. Sounds like I would be a terrible jedi.

Brain games

Brain games

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The only thing that there's just too little of.

The possession of above-average intelligence is an arguably isolating condition.

If I were to ever procreate, I would want to pick an intelligent sperm. But then I would worry that my progeny would be doomed to a lifetime of awkwardness as smart people are generally the most neurotic.

We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Weakness: bad joints. Weakness: people phobia. Weakness: self-deprecation. Weakness: hypochondriasis. Weakness: chocoloate. Weakness: cynicism.

Or would cynicism be a strength?

I guess it depends on who you ask.

Definitions is where we the people get in trouble.

Our society is set up such that there is good and evil and nothing else. Guilty or not guilty. There is no such thing as 25% guilty. At least not in our justice system. There is no gray in the world. It is all labels. Society=labels.

You are male or female and thus have the corresponding gender role characteristics involved therein. You are Christian or not. Buddhist or not. Atheist or not. You like kids, or you don't. You support health care bills or you don't. You are hippie. You are gangster. You are indie scene.

And we are all pretentious.

And so sure of ourselves. Because in everyone's mind, they are in the right. Their opinions are the correct opinions, otherwise they would not subscribe to them. There is so rarely room for any other opinion but their own. Humans do not tolerate moral conflict well.

Wrapped up in our unique identities. And we are all correct. And we cannot respect any other opinion but our own.

~~~


Why do we get so bent out of shape when someone disrespects us, and then we turn around and do a similar thing out of the same fear and indecision that was experienced by the original wrongdoer.

Is it american society that makes us dishonest to the point where we NEED to spare another person's feelings? Or is that a universal human condition?

~~~~

All persons view the world differently. Unless they don't. Maybe the normal people view it normally. And the reason I have not found anyone with my worldview is because I am the sole seer of worlds. Ours is the only reality of consequence. What makes me believe that thoughts arise in other people's brains? How do I know these people exist...the only thing I know for certain is that I am in existence.

Can we delude ourselves into believing we are crazy.

What if there were more crazy people in this world than sane. And how would you know that there isn't?

~~~~

Why is Fuck a bad word? Because mommy and daddy told me it was the first time I used it at them? What makes it so bad? is it not just four letters strung together. it creates meaning. But meaning is used differently among different individuals.

Why is frak any better or worse?

If you call a gay man a bundle of sticks, would he get offended? What if the sentiment behind was dripping with hatred?

~~

How do you navigate a world with so many diverse peoples. So many variables. What ifs. Hows comes. Where for. In what respect.

Respect.

What the world needs now is respect. Sweet respect.

Just because there is love does mean not respect is.

The more love we have, the more attachment and thus inevitable suffering. Love leads to eventual heartbreak. Respect leads to a general well-being amongst the human race.

The song got it wrong. Respect-- its the only thing that there's just too little of.

buying lots of accessories doesnt really fill up the emptiness.
balancing between light and dark
choices
to fall into the abyss
to stay strong
to wait
to fear.
fear is not a choice it is a default.

Far, far there was this little girl..

I like the boy on idol who never smiles.

I finally got around to reading(starting) Brave New World. And I totally relate to the dude who was not socially conditioned to think like the rest of his kind. The one who thinks too much about the ills of society and is therefore unhappy-- unlike the rest of the oblivious world. He doesn't take the happy pills so he is all the worse for it.

I've not finished the story yet, so we'll see how he fares. I can only hope for the best. Though he probably is killed off by the crazy ignorant blissful sexaholics. Tragic.

Still seeking a job, if you have one tell me. I draw the line at sex worker. But I'm open to most anything else.

:)




Far far, there's this little girl
she was praying for something to happen to her
everyday she writes words and more words
just to spit out the thoughts that keep floating inside
and she's strong when the dreams come cos' they
take her, cover her, they are all over
the reality looks far now, but don't go

How can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside