On Losing Sleep

Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive. Be positive.

Remember 10 and 11.
Remember 15.
Remember 17.
Remember Hemingway.
Remember Ginsberg.
Remember an important letter.
Remember to be happy.

Eh.

I'm seriously disinterested in what most women have to say these days...or maybe any day. If it isn't something intellectual or cynical or fucking hilarious, I'll probably be bored. Conversations about how cute this picture is or how hot this guy is or how bitchy this bitch is or how they're "totally over it" but totally not. Fucking spare me.

We All Scream For Ice Cream

I found an old song I wrote a number of years ago based on a very funny picture that my friend drew. It follows a I - V - vi - ii progression (one chord per line). VERY corny melody. As far as complexity of musical material goes, this is probably the worst song I've ever written. But as far as humor (also corny), which was the goal in the first place, it takes the cake for awesomeness. But that's just me.

I woke up to find
That a friend of mine
Had turned into an ice cream man
He had a knife in his hand

I thought he would stab me
Or threaten to grab me
Or drool on
Or shoot me

His swirled, creamy locks
Were twisted into a mohawk
He just stood there and stared
As I asked to be spared

And he cried

My Mind Is Kissin' You

Today was one of those funny days in which you cannot and should not take anything too seriously. I played rockband over the weekend, so this song's been stuck in my head all day. How can anyone take anything seriously with this stuck in their head? Seriously.

Aside from that, I found out my exam times for finals week. LAMESAUCE ON A CORN DOG. Every single class that's important to me (all my music classes) has its exam at 8am. I can barely wake up for my 8am classes, and I'm usually late. That week is going to be HORRIBLE. I'm gonna have to drink so much water to make up for all the caffeine I'll have in my system. At least my jury isn't early in the morning. That would suck.

Had Enough Food?

I watched West Side Story, the King and I, and My Fair Lady last night. Not only have I never seen these movies on tv before, I've never seen any old musical on tv. It was refreshing, corny, and sappy at times. I absolutely loved it. ONO! I'm turning into a sentimental person. I mostly try to avoid stuff like that, as well as sappy chick flicks, novels, and songs, because I don't like the feeling I get when I watch/read them. (You know, that fuzzy feeling?)

Well, it's a good press day for people everywhere. I'm starting to like them despite the fuzzy feeling. The fuzzy feeling even feels good sometimes. What's happening to me? *Darth Vador "Nooooooo"*

"Honey, what did you learn in school?"
"I shouldn't feel vulnerable when I have unfamiliar emotions, as long as those feelings are a result of me being myself."

Humane Reason

I don't understand human emotions. They're so complex and simple at the same time. You can simply be angry or sad or happy or in love or frustrated, but the reasons are utterly incomprehensible. You may have a vague idea of the problem, but to be attempt to completely identify every reason would be an incredible undertaking. And if you cannot identify or understand the reasons for your own emotions, how can anyone expect you to do the same for another? Some people are good at picking up those vague ideas, but others just seem to be completely in the dark. Some people can't even identify the emotion, let alone the reason for it. Lucky for me, I usually do a pretty good job of figuring those things out; it's what keeps me out of trouble. Many people are just constantly under fire due to their lack of observation/application skills.

The real question is: is this tangent going anywhere?
The real answer is: I'm not sure. maybe I should stop.

I think my point is that emotions are lame. Why do my emotions have to go against my thoughts in cases like this? Think logically, god damnit.

"The Battler"

I'm back to Hemingway. I always read his short stories when I'm upset or frustrated. His diction and simplicity always strikes me in a positive way and always makes me feel a little better. Every time I read his book of short stories, by the time I finish it my worries aren't very severe. Hopefully that's the case here. I started with "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place," simply because it's my favorite, then I started from the first story in the book.

Dave did the honor of being my human journal for the evening. I don't think I've ever discussed anything like this with such clarity and effortlessness in my life. Everything I said was exactly what I should have realized initially. I recognized in myself a lot of things, positive and negative, that I never expected to see.

I constantly surround myself with controversy, as if I thrive in it, while at the same time cursing the judgments of others. I am constantly judged and I constantly attempt to deflect it and I constantly can't avoid it. Every time I try to help any situation, I make it worse or am judged negatively for my actions. It gets hard to ignore after a while...It gets hard to deal with after a while. What they don't realize is that I hurt too. Despite my tendency to be the cause for others' pain, it hurts me worse every time my tendency does its work. There is never peace in my decisions. Though I make peaceful, thoughtful decisions, flames and thunder dominate as a result of them.

I don't think I can be any more vague or specific about my situation, but it was nice to be able to articulate everything as precisely as possible in my discussion with Dave. It's nice to be told, in truth or not, that I'm not to blame and that I'm just being pessimistic. Yeah, let's go with that. Let's go back to Hemingway.

Inelastic Collisions

What I find utterly amazing is the fact that no matter what, any time you gain any real idea of who are or what you stand for, one action or event will change you to the point of considering a reassessment of those principles. You finally figure out your priorities, then suddenly you can't see why other things didn't seem as important.

The problem is that most people think there's no point in redefining their values over and again; it's too much work. Better to choose the values and stick to them through thick and thin. Let others deal with our own personal laziness. Let others deal with our primitively oppressive natures. God forbid we think for ourselves and allow for change.

The important thing is to adapt and reconsider one's aims and values continuously. Without placing one's thoughts under continuous reevaluation, what the hell is the point of being a conscious being? Why should anyone even bother with thinking in the first place?

Those who choose to remain "stiff" or "firm" in their so-called values are often just flaccidly slacking in their thoughts. I suggest that we all aim for an elastic texture. Flexible enough to move when we need to move, but strong enough not to waver against idiocy.

My list of priorities is no longer completely valid. (Yes, they're still the most important things to me...but I guess other things deserve to be on the list too.) It's time for me to reevaluate my own beliefs and concerns based on recent happenings. Let it begin :)

Rain: Washing away the filth

As I rejoice about the Presidential election, I utter cries of horror at the situation regarding equality in California.

That is all. I'm tired and disgusted. I'm also hoping for a miracle in the next 48.4% of precincts not reporting yet.

On the Qualities of the Humane

Today I was texting Keith about a problem I had when he said something that made me think a lot about myself. I basically realized that, even though it's been months and months since I lived in my old place, I'm still deeply affected by the events of when I lived there. Even though I thought I became a stronger person, I'm really no more courageous than I was during that crisis in my life. I still have no courage. Why in the hell is that? How can I be strong if I can't even speak up about something so stupid? Am I really just so much of a bitch that nothing but my top 7 things is worth my time? I know that isn't true. Despite setting priorities, I still care about people and their feelings and happiness. I still want to be a good person and a good friend. Have I really lost so much perspective on the people around me that I just see straight through everything and disregard it? It's not about knowing what people are thinking; it's not about my issues with how they think. It's about me being a good person and caring about how others feel, regardless of my own feelings toward the person and/or situation. I'm happy with my list of priorities, but I can't live with myself if the happiness gained ignores or is at the expense of others. If I claim to love humanity and the world, I can't ignore the humanity that surrounds me on a daily basis.

But if I still haven't regained my courage after 6 months of freedom from my old problems, how will I be strong again?