(no subject)
Entry II
Most people get up around 6AM (some even earlier, the poor people) just to get ready for a day of routine. Get up, shower (if they don't at night, that is), clean up, shave (mainly the men), eat breakfast (at least think about eating it, that is), brush, sanitize, grab keys, open door, close door, open car door, close car door, drive. I don't why I particularily fell into this pattern, maybe because of some movies I saw when I was still young and impressionable, but it was how I acted in the morning.
I grew up in the hellish Los Angeles, as if that isn't enough irony, and by grow up I literally mean to become taller. The part of that county that taught morals and fundamental manners and etiquette must have been the part I missed because my youth was quite the daily fiasco. I had gone to church but never found myself too strongly tied to any teachings. While I was at church, though, I was a perfect angel, blending into the environment and feeding off every word. Impressionable. However, the moment I stepped off those oh-so-sacred grounds and took flight to the nearest candy store, I would become a young tyrant all over again. As all primitive and lawless people tend to do, I had surrounded myself with a band of children my age that would go around the city to "play" or "hang out", terminology dependent on who you ask. I was never the leader, I just couldn't handle anything like that. I was more of a "yes-man" for whoever took charge, though I never followed them through with anything. However, if he were to give me $2.00 to buy him a candy bar that cost .25¢, how could I resist getting something for myself at his expense?
When I wasn't busying myself around being with some friends or in the holy temples of suburbia, I found myself attached to books. Now, since I was a young boy and I, as I already stated a few times, was very impressionable, whenever I happened to pick up a new book I sew myself into the pages to become a part of it. I remember a conversation with a therapist nearly five years ago who had questioned me about my reaction to books and explained that I was trying to put myself in the worlds of make-believe to escape the world of reality. When my mum found out about that particular piece of information, she seemed more than eager to get me reading the Bible instead of Green Eggs and Ham. When my therapist saw my character becoming more of a "close minded" person he had a private conversation with my mother that I know nothing about except that one of the many "secret" reformations included taking the sacred book off my reading list.
Now don't get me wrong, my mother was not fanatical about religion to the extent of a crusader, but she would basically cease to exist or something if I ever fell away from the path of the lord. I know that it was probably wrong of me in some way to have taken a detour of that path but you know how it is with children, they fall all over the place with their newly usable legs that had been stuck in place for so long when still in the womb. That probably made no sense but I tell myself that when I need to justify any stupid decision made as a child. I guess that still makes me a child of sorts, doesn't it?
All in all, to sum up this history lesson, my family was wholesome, loving, demanding, productful, and watching. How this affects me waking up in the morning - I don't know. How this defines me - I don't really know that either. All I know is that every morning I wake up and head to my job in the tall building with the glassy mirrors dripping over its exterior and when I get there, I do my job.
Work is such a drag. I hate Mondays.
Most people get up around 6AM (some even earlier, the poor people) just to get ready for a day of routine. Get up, shower (if they don't at night, that is), clean up, shave (mainly the men), eat breakfast (at least think about eating it, that is), brush, sanitize, grab keys, open door, close door, open car door, close car door, drive. I don't why I particularily fell into this pattern, maybe because of some movies I saw when I was still young and impressionable, but it was how I acted in the morning.
I grew up in the hellish Los Angeles, as if that isn't enough irony, and by grow up I literally mean to become taller. The part of that county that taught morals and fundamental manners and etiquette must have been the part I missed because my youth was quite the daily fiasco. I had gone to church but never found myself too strongly tied to any teachings. While I was at church, though, I was a perfect angel, blending into the environment and feeding off every word. Impressionable. However, the moment I stepped off those oh-so-sacred grounds and took flight to the nearest candy store, I would become a young tyrant all over again. As all primitive and lawless people tend to do, I had surrounded myself with a band of children my age that would go around the city to "play" or "hang out", terminology dependent on who you ask. I was never the leader, I just couldn't handle anything like that. I was more of a "yes-man" for whoever took charge, though I never followed them through with anything. However, if he were to give me $2.00 to buy him a candy bar that cost .25¢, how could I resist getting something for myself at his expense?
When I wasn't busying myself around being with some friends or in the holy temples of suburbia, I found myself attached to books. Now, since I was a young boy and I, as I already stated a few times, was very impressionable, whenever I happened to pick up a new book I sew myself into the pages to become a part of it. I remember a conversation with a therapist nearly five years ago who had questioned me about my reaction to books and explained that I was trying to put myself in the worlds of make-believe to escape the world of reality. When my mum found out about that particular piece of information, she seemed more than eager to get me reading the Bible instead of Green Eggs and Ham. When my therapist saw my character becoming more of a "close minded" person he had a private conversation with my mother that I know nothing about except that one of the many "secret" reformations included taking the sacred book off my reading list.
Now don't get me wrong, my mother was not fanatical about religion to the extent of a crusader, but she would basically cease to exist or something if I ever fell away from the path of the lord. I know that it was probably wrong of me in some way to have taken a detour of that path but you know how it is with children, they fall all over the place with their newly usable legs that had been stuck in place for so long when still in the womb. That probably made no sense but I tell myself that when I need to justify any stupid decision made as a child. I guess that still makes me a child of sorts, doesn't it?
All in all, to sum up this history lesson, my family was wholesome, loving, demanding, productful, and watching. How this affects me waking up in the morning - I don't know. How this defines me - I don't really know that either. All I know is that every morning I wake up and head to my job in the tall building with the glassy mirrors dripping over its exterior and when I get there, I do my job.
Work is such a drag. I hate Mondays.