Licking 9-Volts.
or; Fun with Fire Detectors
I'm finding it harder to sleep, for some reason. With the fall weather and months quickly approaching (as in September-approaching. Which is the earliest I've noticed in Charlotte over four years. No complaints here.), I'm seeing my behavior fluttering in the same airspace as the social butterfly. Rather, I was starting to notice it. Recent events lead me to believe that I ought just let the insects pass me by on their path to whatever it may be they're flitting toward. I've only had mishaps and awkward moments aside from a select two or three moments of true camaraderie. The sister and the Laura have been fantastic for the few moments of greatness. The rest, well, those all happened to be horrible, icky times (it appears I lost my words with the thought.). Granted, regrets have been few, but I'm at a loss when it comes to pretending to give a shit for these people or their feelings that, in actuality, will hold no relevance in whatever grand scheme is happening at me.
I feel like I'm carrying-on. I'm definitely good at that, and I'm even better when the carrying-on has to do with me. I catch myself acting more and more like my father. One of the more stoic, blindly-guided people I've known. Perhaps it's just a true instance of that goddamned and elusive "experience," my parents promised with no understanding from me, would be a serious burden in my future by a constant reptetion of the facts: they had it and I did not. Hindsight had never been such a terrible foe to your once naive narrator.
Experience has only recently reared it's Cereberus-esque head and made itself a target in the crosshairs of my "it will never happen to me" rifle.
Suddenly, I catch myself able to make sense of things unclear to me just days before. I can see the blissful ignorance slowly dripping out my head like a brain laden, ignorance goo. Where I would I had once looked with awe on the world, I'm seeing it in a new light of simpleminded people and overly complicated relationships with said people. I'm becoming an expert at positioning myself in a place, as though castling in chess, to a position on the board of life where, safely surrounded, I watch those in close proximity become directly affected by my cowardly actions.
Gah! This all makes me head hurt.
In summation, I notice my neurosis as more of a direct result of the strain I've put on myself that I had previously just blamed on others. Though painful as hell to see happen without being aware of what is in my direct power to alter, it can't harm me anymore than that shady, Experience character already has. If anything, with more practice, life will undoubtedly reveal to me the answers to the tests that are served around me at alarming rates, in overwhelming amounts and at all times.
Or, I could just be carrying-on. I'm okay with that. Life is pretty fantastic, even when I can't reach the top shelf right away, it usually helps me find or let's me borrow the step-ladder that opens up an infinite, worm can of shelves that will one day be within reach.
I don't even think I entirely grasp that last little metaphor. Fun.
RJR
I'm finding it harder to sleep, for some reason. With the fall weather and months quickly approaching (as in September-approaching. Which is the earliest I've noticed in Charlotte over four years. No complaints here.), I'm seeing my behavior fluttering in the same airspace as the social butterfly. Rather, I was starting to notice it. Recent events lead me to believe that I ought just let the insects pass me by on their path to whatever it may be they're flitting toward. I've only had mishaps and awkward moments aside from a select two or three moments of true camaraderie. The sister and the Laura have been fantastic for the few moments of greatness. The rest, well, those all happened to be horrible, icky times (it appears I lost my words with the thought.). Granted, regrets have been few, but I'm at a loss when it comes to pretending to give a shit for these people or their feelings that, in actuality, will hold no relevance in whatever grand scheme is happening at me.
I feel like I'm carrying-on. I'm definitely good at that, and I'm even better when the carrying-on has to do with me. I catch myself acting more and more like my father. One of the more stoic, blindly-guided people I've known. Perhaps it's just a true instance of that goddamned and elusive "experience," my parents promised with no understanding from me, would be a serious burden in my future by a constant reptetion of the facts: they had it and I did not. Hindsight had never been such a terrible foe to your once naive narrator.
Experience has only recently reared it's Cereberus-esque head and made itself a target in the crosshairs of my "it will never happen to me" rifle.
Suddenly, I catch myself able to make sense of things unclear to me just days before. I can see the blissful ignorance slowly dripping out my head like a brain laden, ignorance goo. Where I would I had once looked with awe on the world, I'm seeing it in a new light of simpleminded people and overly complicated relationships with said people. I'm becoming an expert at positioning myself in a place, as though castling in chess, to a position on the board of life where, safely surrounded, I watch those in close proximity become directly affected by my cowardly actions.
Gah! This all makes me head hurt.
In summation, I notice my neurosis as more of a direct result of the strain I've put on myself that I had previously just blamed on others. Though painful as hell to see happen without being aware of what is in my direct power to alter, it can't harm me anymore than that shady, Experience character already has. If anything, with more practice, life will undoubtedly reveal to me the answers to the tests that are served around me at alarming rates, in overwhelming amounts and at all times.
Or, I could just be carrying-on. I'm okay with that. Life is pretty fantastic, even when I can't reach the top shelf right away, it usually helps me find or let's me borrow the step-ladder that opens up an infinite, worm can of shelves that will one day be within reach.
I don't even think I entirely grasp that last little metaphor. Fun.
RJR