I am not a bad person, I am not a bad person, I am not a bad person.
How does one avert a train wreck one sees coming eventually. Is it far enough for me to think, let me enjoy these years first, or what?
Train Wreck. Train Wreck. Train Wreck.
It's not my fault. I know it is useless and meaningless to appeal to me (reading at a future date) and I've even said so before, but you of the future, remember what my intentions were. I hope you escaped.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Vessel for the soul
And from the sickly sweet post to the real prickly thorny ones...
I wish and I wish that every concern in life could be resolved into the spiritual and the intellectual. Unfortunately the physical, the body will intrude with its pains, its aging, its wants, its needs...
I feel ashamed almost to tend to it, to see that its doing fine and when I ignore it, it spills over to my daily life with complaints of tiredness, mood swings, erratic behaviour.
I don't know how to compromise, I was never taught to think about myself that way. Was never a sports fan, never really vain, never really concerned about the human form. But when I am being affected and ill health, mental and physical is the result, I think I need to rethink this.
I wish and I wish that every concern in life could be resolved into the spiritual and the intellectual. Unfortunately the physical, the body will intrude with its pains, its aging, its wants, its needs...
I feel ashamed almost to tend to it, to see that its doing fine and when I ignore it, it spills over to my daily life with complaints of tiredness, mood swings, erratic behaviour.
I don't know how to compromise, I was never taught to think about myself that way. Was never a sports fan, never really vain, never really concerned about the human form. But when I am being affected and ill health, mental and physical is the result, I think I need to rethink this.
Resolutions and Memories of 2008
Blogging for the sake of blogging isn't always the smartest idea. I could be and am thinking of too many things to be coherent. Yet I feel that I'm not putting enough of me into the moulding box of this blog and when the cast is chipped away there will be a very imperfect sample of my year.
This year has been about possibilities and boundaries. It has been risky, motivating and scary in parts. I am afraid that the alertness I feel is just due to freshness of the situation and when the bloom is nipped I will return to my old ways. Pact, Bloggy. I will not. You hold me to it, okay? The point of this blog is for me to come back and remember and be glad I don't regret. I've been pleased to be able to read my old posts with nonchalance. (Shrug) so here I am and there I was, there is no real time capsule from the past me to me now. Yet, if things went wrong and I looked back, I think I would writhe.
So, Pact. No writhing. No disappointing people. It's not exactly a resolution, its more a brake. No backsliding but I may go where I will.
And this year, my parents have become very involved with the engagement. As they see it, its their last duty. As I see it, I can't fathom why they would. They should have washed their hands of me already; the deed never matching up to the idea and promise. Anyway, I don't understand the need of spending money on a wedding. This is really all for them.
I've never felt less inclined to defend myself, be defensive. Maybe I'm becoming a whole person, but I fear that to be whole and totally independent of feedback is dangerous. No real fear of that. I'm plenty shrinking violet still.
My dearest friends, my books. I can't read fantasy any more. I feel unsatisfied and seem to see author wish-fulfilment in every page and plot point. I'm beginning to feel LOTR withdrawal. I want a movie, to reread the book entirely, deeply, in a sitting, alone. I want the words on the page to embrace the impressions in my memory. I want to feel it in my bones, my marrow. But other than that I want people on my pages, not dolefully sad, not flippantly happy, not grim-jawed or comic relief material, not built of single dimensions. I want to read of lives and loves, but real. In the same breath I will admit to wanting to read trash to simply get my mind out of work. A roll down the windows, let the breeze blow through the stuffy car. Never mind that I won't really remember the breeze, but the fusty interior of my car-brain will be fresher for it.
And the bitter bitter cold. I am going to have to go through these months in my intrepid polar explorer mode. Expect many blogs on my mishaps and triumphs in the winter.
Finally, I must make all of this pay off. I am deeply in debt in many ways of the word. I must be found solvent in all those meanings. Financially, my loan; emotionally, my friends; intellectually, my new friends.
Every day I live a little, every day I die a little
Sap like this post, I suspect kills me just the little bit faster.
So with a theatrical sneer at naysayers and the petty
With a downwards glance when faced by the rest, I'm going back to all the other stuff I do.
This year has been about possibilities and boundaries. It has been risky, motivating and scary in parts. I am afraid that the alertness I feel is just due to freshness of the situation and when the bloom is nipped I will return to my old ways. Pact, Bloggy. I will not. You hold me to it, okay? The point of this blog is for me to come back and remember and be glad I don't regret. I've been pleased to be able to read my old posts with nonchalance. (Shrug) so here I am and there I was, there is no real time capsule from the past me to me now. Yet, if things went wrong and I looked back, I think I would writhe.
So, Pact. No writhing. No disappointing people. It's not exactly a resolution, its more a brake. No backsliding but I may go where I will.
And this year, my parents have become very involved with the engagement. As they see it, its their last duty. As I see it, I can't fathom why they would. They should have washed their hands of me already; the deed never matching up to the idea and promise. Anyway, I don't understand the need of spending money on a wedding. This is really all for them.
I've never felt less inclined to defend myself, be defensive. Maybe I'm becoming a whole person, but I fear that to be whole and totally independent of feedback is dangerous. No real fear of that. I'm plenty shrinking violet still.
My dearest friends, my books. I can't read fantasy any more. I feel unsatisfied and seem to see author wish-fulfilment in every page and plot point. I'm beginning to feel LOTR withdrawal. I want a movie, to reread the book entirely, deeply, in a sitting, alone. I want the words on the page to embrace the impressions in my memory. I want to feel it in my bones, my marrow. But other than that I want people on my pages, not dolefully sad, not flippantly happy, not grim-jawed or comic relief material, not built of single dimensions. I want to read of lives and loves, but real. In the same breath I will admit to wanting to read trash to simply get my mind out of work. A roll down the windows, let the breeze blow through the stuffy car. Never mind that I won't really remember the breeze, but the fusty interior of my car-brain will be fresher for it.
And the bitter bitter cold. I am going to have to go through these months in my intrepid polar explorer mode. Expect many blogs on my mishaps and triumphs in the winter.
Finally, I must make all of this pay off. I am deeply in debt in many ways of the word. I must be found solvent in all those meanings. Financially, my loan; emotionally, my friends; intellectually, my new friends.
Every day I live a little, every day I die a little
Sap like this post, I suspect kills me just the little bit faster.
So with a theatrical sneer at naysayers and the petty
With a downwards glance when faced by the rest, I'm going back to all the other stuff I do.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Seagull
Never mind Uncle Vanya and three sisters. It was all a case of envy. When I am a prisoner of sloth and cold, wrapped in my own living room, I watch the white birds flying outside jealously. Will someone please tell them its -9 C out there?
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