By the way, these brief messages are being sent via my cell phone as e-mail to my blog. this bus driver is singing
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
If this works, i will
If this works, i will be chronicalling my day on the busses. i have already missed my first one. Damn eating takes time
The Right Thing, The Right Time
1:12am
...and my "sleeplist" is still playing. I don't know how that's possible because it's 14 songs that total about 57 minutes. I started it when I turned out all the lights and put my head down a little after 11pm. The function for continuous repeat is NOT on. I went to bed at such an early hour for me because the alarm is set to go off at 6am so that I can make the busses for an 8am doctor appointment. Naturally, I would be wide awake in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. I can taste the lunch I had yesterday in my mouth. Cardwell and I had Knowlwoods finally. We always talk about it but have never gone and eaten there. Simple enough. Burger joint. Jessica was kind enough to get our order wrong, but she was nice enough and apologetic. In this reflection, I pause, the mind wanders to the point where I just woke up and realized that I was awake because whatever dream I was having stopped. Being awakened from a dream that you're actively participating in is like being yanked from the playing field to bench or substitute when the adrenaline is pumping and your engaged in whatever sport it is; it's like sitting in front of the TV while watching one of your favorite TV shows and having an emergency "news" broadcast break in---OR WORSE YET, being in a movie theater where you're half way through a movie and the something happens to the projector so management is forced to give you a free pass. It's one time when you're compensated for your money and you still have a feeling of loss because you have to come back at some future time to find out what happened. So yea, here it is at 1:21am and I'm awake with a feeling of loss and the left shoulder of my tank-top is still slightly damp from the sweat of dream engagement and adrenaline pumping. The sleeplist ends.
I've decided to write instead of going online and talking to people because a part of me says that this is more productive. My subconscious is aware of thoughts that are weighing on me that the conscious part of my mind doesn't see or acknowledge. I find it both amazing and frustrating that a person's mind could develop to deal with stressful or disturbing thoughts in a way that nearly removes them from the conscious part of our daily actions. Every so often, there is that feeling that can come over you during the day that perhaps there's something we've forgotten; something that's on our mind but we don't quite know what it is. In a conversation with Cardwell and Rey some weeks ago, the idea was talked about that it's always easier to not do something--to take no action--than it is to make a decision and choose something for yourself. We are sometimes complacent, waiting for a situation or a set of circumstances to dictate a road of change. I feel thoughts. I feel everything around me. I think this is why SSRI's of my past trials were so drastic to me. It's not a tangible or objective thing that a doctor can see or that you can explain. SSRI's have always taken away my innate ability to feel those intangibles. So when that is something that I find integral to who I am, it was placing me in a different type of mood change. Lost. Stable, but lost. Now...I seem to have that ability to "sense" again. I don't feel as lost. However, I do feel that there is something I'm still holding myself back from fully feeling. I feel some type of guard on myself and I don't know if that's me protecting myself from things that should remain a mystery or me refusing to act upon something because it's easier to be complacent. We lock dangerous criminals up in cells that are in jails so that they are not free to cause more harm to the society around them. Couldn't a mind also lock up dangerous thoughts that might cause harm to one's self if they were released or acted upon in a conscious state?
Cardwell is worried about Nathan's distance and lack of response to our calls. I could just say, "Oh, he's busy with stuff and he'll call us when he can." But, there are many truths going on with our triad. Without any intention of malice from any of us, there is a growing separation due to a simple geographical component. Some people are able to bridge this and still take part in other people's lives; some do it for a short time and fade. I fear and feel that trailing off with Nathan. I've pleaded many times for him to just move back to SoCal so that we can be around each other, but that's ultimately one of those life steps that only Nathan can make happen. Another truth is that if people are important enough in your life you will go the extra mile and make time to call, write or in some way acknowledge their presence in your life. Some other personalities would throw in that it's not the frequency of interaction, but the quality during the time when you do have each other. As is often the case, I see a little of all this. So I have remained balanced and not tried to force Nathan to do something that he is not ready for. Reality.... sometimes we are never ready for something. We do our best to adjust and adapt. (Or we don't) So I know Nathan is in my head and this is ultimately a thought that I am burdening myself with because I love him dearly but at the same time I cannot do anything to effect change so I have to limit the amount of daily energy I spend worrying about this so that I can deal with the road in front of me.
Do you believe that my car issue is still not resolved from the car accident of December 18th? This has been a rollercoaster type of stress the past few months. It's finished, it's not. It's settled, it's not. I'm done paying anything, I'm not. The outlook for this next round is good, but godzooks already. An attached thought... my life of walking and taking the bus has been a pleasant change for the most part. I'm noticing my community a lot more.
Three and one half days and I'll be in the streets of Seattle. Marthalee has kittens at her house. The way that she interacts with my soul is so very, very gentle. That thought is soothing enough to put me back into a restful state. Now a few more hours of sleep.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Dreamy Days
short...
nice and weird dream about Scully & Moulder tracking some guy that lived in filth. Scully found him, but was knocked out and found herself awakening on the floor of his living room surrounded by garbage, and underneath a large, old mattress. She manages to fight her up, but is backed into a corner room where peril was surely going to befall her when she kicked the guy and slammed the door and then went out a window. As she walked by another window, she was upset and decided it would be nice to piss him off by breaker the little squares that made up the entire window. As she tried to do this, she was too weak to actually break the glass. She tried to pick up hard objects and break it but this was not happening either. She makes it out to the main street and finds a police car.
JUMP
Now I'm on the run somewhere. There are different age kids in their teens all around me. A guy & a girl who are obviously a couple. We seem to be somewhere that we're not supposed to be. Sure enough, police start to arrive; but looks like FBI because they have suits & ties on. We are frisked, sprayed with some type of "revealing liquid." After a while they shine some type of flashing beam on us to reveal whatever was on us. I think they were looking a sign of sex being had. So I make it easy on the guy and say, well of course I'm going to have signs, I jacked off before I went out tonight and it hit me on the face.
END DREAM
(And no...I didn't watch X-Files last night or any night this week. I didn't have sex last night or any night this week. I just have some weird-ass dreams)
nice and weird dream about Scully & Moulder tracking some guy that lived in filth. Scully found him, but was knocked out and found herself awakening on the floor of his living room surrounded by garbage, and underneath a large, old mattress. She manages to fight her up, but is backed into a corner room where peril was surely going to befall her when she kicked the guy and slammed the door and then went out a window. As she walked by another window, she was upset and decided it would be nice to piss him off by breaker the little squares that made up the entire window. As she tried to do this, she was too weak to actually break the glass. She tried to pick up hard objects and break it but this was not happening either. She makes it out to the main street and finds a police car.
JUMP
Now I'm on the run somewhere. There are different age kids in their teens all around me. A guy & a girl who are obviously a couple. We seem to be somewhere that we're not supposed to be. Sure enough, police start to arrive; but looks like FBI because they have suits & ties on. We are frisked, sprayed with some type of "revealing liquid." After a while they shine some type of flashing beam on us to reveal whatever was on us. I think they were looking a sign of sex being had. So I make it easy on the guy and say, well of course I'm going to have signs, I jacked off before I went out tonight and it hit me on the face.
END DREAM
(And no...I didn't watch X-Files last night or any night this week. I didn't have sex last night or any night this week. I just have some weird-ass dreams)
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Licking my lips
I want fast food so bad right now. Some friends would use the word "jonesing." I'm "jonesing" for some hot, greasy french fries; some type of burger with lots of sauce--essentially the Carl's Jr. ad campaign style of messy. But no food for me. I live in Irvine where even the usual 24hr Del Taco isn't 24 hr. I have to wait 4 more hours before I get off the bus so I can visit the Del Taco in the UCI area. ((It actually is 24hrs))
I'm awake because I moved Neurontin & Serzone from 100mg to 200mg and my body being ever so sensitive has been stimulated into the awake mode. It's not even a hyper, alert type of awake. Instead, it's that type of awake where you know you're tired but your body is just not going to have anything to do with sleeping. Insomnia. So "they" prescribe the wonderful Desyrel (Trazodone). It will do the trick... but I'd be out completely for 8-10 hrs and that's not going to do considering I need to be up at 6:30am to be to UCI by 8:30am. I complain, but when I step back and look at the big picture in that I don't have any car payment, gas or heavy insurance..... the waking up two hours earlier than I might normally isn't so bad.
I was re-looking at the photos from El Faro 2. They were playing on the slideshow feature from the Yahoo! sight that they're posted on. It's the first time I had really taken a good look at each photo and saw the faces--individually--of each kid. Suddenly I'm not so hungry. I see them playing with each other and I think of my friends. I see how the ones that have remained over time have kept a very playful attitude with me and with life in general. Those that have "grown up" have walked down their different paths in life. Each day, I become more and more content with the choices I have made, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that I still feel that pull of competition tugging at my ego. How could I not have this? It's how we're conditioned to be in America from the time we're born. What kind of pre-natal care did you have? What birthing options are you going to choose? Are you going to be breast fed or formula? ((Or my favorite... I don't want you sucking on my tits so I'll use a breast pump to get you my milk but you can drink it out of plastic instead.)) Then it's did you read to your kid? Was there pre-school? We get shipped off to the school system where everything is a competition. The A's vs. the non-A's. How many book reports did you do? How well did you perform on the Presidential Fitness Test? How fast can you run? What are you scoring on the standardized tests? Are you at grade level? Below? Above? What position do you have in your church? Do you go more than just Sundays? Are you involved in sports? Are you part of any clubs? Are you taking AP courses or just College Prep? ((Or are you basic??)) Then... did you go to college? Oh, which one? Was it Ivy League? Was it just a JC? What, you didn't go to college? Oh... what kind of job do you have? And there it is.... job = work = career of some sort to most people. What kind of "career" do you have? And even then... oh you're in "such & such" industry? Do you work for the industry leader or are you with some 'start-up' company? How much money have you invested in your retirement? Do you own property? If so, what kind? How big is your house? Do you have just one? How old were you when you achieved these milestones?
Damn, I just wrote all of that in a couple minutes. Non-stop. It's very easy to be swept into the stream of thought when it's what all the minds around us are thinking on some level. Un-learning this thought process is tricky for me because I tend to just throw the gear into reverse; reverting back to that child mind of, "If it feels good, do it." Or the adolescent mind of, "Fuck it." Here I am sitting cross-legged in my bed, not at a desk, sitting upright. A quick glance around the room shows my minimalistic tries, but still so much clutter I could dispose of. My room, my sanctuary. (My Mirror)
Ok... time for some more Warcraft III.
I'm awake because I moved Neurontin & Serzone from 100mg to 200mg and my body being ever so sensitive has been stimulated into the awake mode. It's not even a hyper, alert type of awake. Instead, it's that type of awake where you know you're tired but your body is just not going to have anything to do with sleeping. Insomnia. So "they" prescribe the wonderful Desyrel (Trazodone). It will do the trick... but I'd be out completely for 8-10 hrs and that's not going to do considering I need to be up at 6:30am to be to UCI by 8:30am. I complain, but when I step back and look at the big picture in that I don't have any car payment, gas or heavy insurance..... the waking up two hours earlier than I might normally isn't so bad.
I was re-looking at the photos from El Faro 2. They were playing on the slideshow feature from the Yahoo! sight that they're posted on. It's the first time I had really taken a good look at each photo and saw the faces--individually--of each kid. Suddenly I'm not so hungry. I see them playing with each other and I think of my friends. I see how the ones that have remained over time have kept a very playful attitude with me and with life in general. Those that have "grown up" have walked down their different paths in life. Each day, I become more and more content with the choices I have made, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that I still feel that pull of competition tugging at my ego. How could I not have this? It's how we're conditioned to be in America from the time we're born. What kind of pre-natal care did you have? What birthing options are you going to choose? Are you going to be breast fed or formula? ((Or my favorite... I don't want you sucking on my tits so I'll use a breast pump to get you my milk but you can drink it out of plastic instead.)) Then it's did you read to your kid? Was there pre-school? We get shipped off to the school system where everything is a competition. The A's vs. the non-A's. How many book reports did you do? How well did you perform on the Presidential Fitness Test? How fast can you run? What are you scoring on the standardized tests? Are you at grade level? Below? Above? What position do you have in your church? Do you go more than just Sundays? Are you involved in sports? Are you part of any clubs? Are you taking AP courses or just College Prep? ((Or are you basic??)) Then... did you go to college? Oh, which one? Was it Ivy League? Was it just a JC? What, you didn't go to college? Oh... what kind of job do you have? And there it is.... job = work = career of some sort to most people. What kind of "career" do you have? And even then... oh you're in "such & such" industry? Do you work for the industry leader or are you with some 'start-up' company? How much money have you invested in your retirement? Do you own property? If so, what kind? How big is your house? Do you have just one? How old were you when you achieved these milestones?
Damn, I just wrote all of that in a couple minutes. Non-stop. It's very easy to be swept into the stream of thought when it's what all the minds around us are thinking on some level. Un-learning this thought process is tricky for me because I tend to just throw the gear into reverse; reverting back to that child mind of, "If it feels good, do it." Or the adolescent mind of, "Fuck it." Here I am sitting cross-legged in my bed, not at a desk, sitting upright. A quick glance around the room shows my minimalistic tries, but still so much clutter I could dispose of. My room, my sanctuary. (My Mirror)
Ok... time for some more Warcraft III.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Friday, April 01, 2005
Blank CD's
I spent an hour and a half on the phone this morning trying to figure out the location of a car DMV says I own. I thought the car had been sold in salvage auction. The matter is still not settled.
The song I'm listening to I could do without the lyrics and just get to the beat, the synth-sounds and the key changes. That part is really exciting.
So the last hour has been spent cutting my hair in the mirror. If it doesn't turn out, there's always the drastic measure of shaving my head. (Which I sorta planned on doing anyway)
Long IM with Ty last night has left me thinking how blank CD's become beautiful treasures when some thought is put behind what goes on them.
The song I'm listening to I could do without the lyrics and just get to the beat, the synth-sounds and the key changes. That part is really exciting.
So the last hour has been spent cutting my hair in the mirror. If it doesn't turn out, there's always the drastic measure of shaving my head. (Which I sorta planned on doing anyway)
Long IM with Ty last night has left me thinking how blank CD's become beautiful treasures when some thought is put behind what goes on them.
The Metered Money
12:06AM
Just walked back from the movie theaters. Saw "Guess Who." Cute lil date movie. My rating: Matinee. The walk home is a little under a mile. Such a clear, warm night. The stars came through as much as possible with the city lights still obscuring most of them. I want to know what destiny that I will make for myself. I love this writing. I love the way that words come together and attempt to convey some meaning. So what am I afraid of? What? It can't be rejection because all I get is praise for what people read. But am I judging those that would give their opinion? Am I really afraid of what the industry, the editor, the agent would say? And how can I really know unless I try?
Sky diving is going to be expensive. The idea is a rush in and of itself. Another rush is the motorcycle idea. Received an e-mail today from Tim in Palm Springs that brought that up again. I had been thinking about him lately. The man inspired me the last time I was around him. I might take a trip out that way.
I'm either going to shave my hair off tomorrow or got and get it cut. I'm definitely going to see "Sin City." I have plans to go to Irvine Lanes and partake in the bowling fundraiser for the Gay & Lesbian Center. Shortly after that ends I'll be wisked off in a van early Saturday morning so that I can take a trip to a children's orphanage in Mexico. I've never been to Mexico before. I know that my heart is going to be very drawn to what I find and that I will have to take the experience back with me and into my search for myself. It's the radiant beauty of childhood that often inspires me.
With all of these alcohol classes lately, I am both inundated with information that I already knew and open to the possibilities of what I am missing in my life. Maybe missing isn't the right word. Maybe it is. If not missing, then maybe the things that I still keep in that part of my mind that won't relive the past. I'll be glad in two weeks when the classes are over. The very next day I'll be on a plane to Seattle. I'll four days of reconnection in ways that I cannot even begin to anticipate.
What I simply want is the answers within to surface.
Just walked back from the movie theaters. Saw "Guess Who." Cute lil date movie. My rating: Matinee. The walk home is a little under a mile. Such a clear, warm night. The stars came through as much as possible with the city lights still obscuring most of them. I want to know what destiny that I will make for myself. I love this writing. I love the way that words come together and attempt to convey some meaning. So what am I afraid of? What? It can't be rejection because all I get is praise for what people read. But am I judging those that would give their opinion? Am I really afraid of what the industry, the editor, the agent would say? And how can I really know unless I try?
Sky diving is going to be expensive. The idea is a rush in and of itself. Another rush is the motorcycle idea. Received an e-mail today from Tim in Palm Springs that brought that up again. I had been thinking about him lately. The man inspired me the last time I was around him. I might take a trip out that way.
I'm either going to shave my hair off tomorrow or got and get it cut. I'm definitely going to see "Sin City." I have plans to go to Irvine Lanes and partake in the bowling fundraiser for the Gay & Lesbian Center. Shortly after that ends I'll be wisked off in a van early Saturday morning so that I can take a trip to a children's orphanage in Mexico. I've never been to Mexico before. I know that my heart is going to be very drawn to what I find and that I will have to take the experience back with me and into my search for myself. It's the radiant beauty of childhood that often inspires me.
With all of these alcohol classes lately, I am both inundated with information that I already knew and open to the possibilities of what I am missing in my life. Maybe missing isn't the right word. Maybe it is. If not missing, then maybe the things that I still keep in that part of my mind that won't relive the past. I'll be glad in two weeks when the classes are over. The very next day I'll be on a plane to Seattle. I'll four days of reconnection in ways that I cannot even begin to anticipate.
What I simply want is the answers within to surface.
