Closer to Asia?

They made me wait all day for a 5 minute interview. Granted, there were donuts and pizza- and the starbucks people are amazing (a pound of coffee and 4 refills)! Now I feel restless. I just returned from a drive around the city I won't miss, listening to Doves as the city slipped into the rain. There wasn't anyone there to share, at least, no one to be seen. It would have been nice to go out as I've become accustomed to doing and nicer still to not battle myself a little, but the worries of this mind dwindle even now, like the last of the seeds released from a fluffy white dandelion to form a mock snow.

So I handed in my badge shortly after saying goodbyes, and then thought about searching for future employ, but decided that packing provided a much needed joy to match the rays of the sun shining into my 99 degree room. I am divided in two, as always I am, and wonder upon the control/fate/power issues I have and with the decidedly negative view in which I hold them. It appears, almost, that I have relinquished my ability to view a course in navigation and foresee the next point- perhaps lost in the Mariana trench, though why I would be so close to Asia I have no idea... It could have been quicker to dig there.

It's a zoo in here

freedom: The capacity to exercise choice; free will:

I currently have a plethora of ideas and emotions to which I am being subjected, and have found their presence to be mostly a nuissance, like a crowded zoo- all I want to do is enjoy the sights, but the crowd ruins the moment. I can't seem to identify any real thoughts, just random fragments, and to me that is the most confusing of all- the crowd has no common flow or direction, but swirls around and mixes. I don't really know what to say, or what to talk about, as there are many foreign objects floating about, wasted mindspace I suppose. So I will not regail you with the story of a man who reaches beyond the current bounds of human knowledge to see clearly two worlds, or the man who travels a vortex of light, I cannot write on the state of my emotional well-being, or come up with witty retorts, or functionally fun, off-beat advertisements for common things.

I will say this in regards to the definition above: is it not obvious, that the limitations of a man's ability to choose is also a limitation of his freedom?

Then I pose this question: Imagine the world in perfection- what do you see? How does it function? and then can you see the flaws you have created?

Funny, how I keep writing with nothing more to say- I imagine it is more like the man passed out on driftwood who manages to float to shore.
I go through phases with my writing. Not in style, sometimes in content. The phases are not how I approach my writing, but altogether how I view the meaning or futility of my words. What can a man say that has not been said already? What does reitterating a point achieve if it has not been absorbed after the first hundred tries? So occassionaly, when I reach the point where my work is seen as absolute futility, I burn it, or throw it away until I reach that point when I become so consumed by an idea that I must write for fear of being consumed by my own ideas. I can beat back the urge to write for some time - I have been trained to handle mental anguish like the SEALs have been trained to handle physical pain- but everybody breaks at some point, all we can do is grab hold of the driftwood and hope.

Ideas of mind/ a soft appearance

I was driving around today. It is one of my favorite ways to think. And I drifted into some excerpts from "The Republic" by Cicero. I thought of how quickly I became disinterested with the read- this was two-fold: the names (always horrible to pronoune); and the ideas. I am an immense fan of reading theoretical, philosophical, or historical works- I am not too fond of fiction as it is either for entertainment (I find television to be adequate), or to deliver some sort of message which requires derivation- yes the puzzle would entertain me until the moment I discovered it and realized that it is nothing new, just brought about in a different way (again, this returns to the post on decadence and the stagnant society). But the reason I became so disinterested with Cicero, and the feeling seemed to spread as ivy, is that I did not come across an idea I have not heard, read, or had myself. And as I thought of the things I have read- they not being many- I came to the conclusion that the only real purpose any of them served was to give definite verbage to the ideas I've had all along (I'm pretty sure Emerson wrote something about this, but I do not emote as he suggested). So I think, and tend to always overthink things. But that is what I do with the understanding of the "pie" philosophy (all things being considered a pie, and each given his slice- slice being perspective), I try to view as much of the pie as possible before arriving at a decision.

So you can't make everyone happy with the decisions you make. Moreover (and I know it has been said), if you are making everyone happy, then the decision you make cannot possibly be correct. So how does someone live after accepting their mortality? Should they live differently than before? or continue along being mostly the same? The question of mortality is almost fun for me (morbid, I know). I contemplate my mortality (with fear of its absence) daily. I often envision being t-boned as I drive through an intersection, but am more convinced that I will be diagnosed with lymphoma in its late stages (of course, I would keep that secret to myself, as I am not one who enjoys the light of pity).

So I heard someone say they hope that the President can change the country and make our lives better (oh, the things people say can often trigger me into thought). When did we become so dependant on others for our happiness? Why must we wait for the government to change our condition? Have we truly lost all power to better our own situation? I fear that we have become so complacent, so fearful of making decisions for ourselves that we would gladly give up our power, our rights, to another. I suppose, though, that we are all sheep looking for a shepherd. But enough politics.

It is only 7-9 days until I move. word. I began to move some personal effects into my new abode this past weekend. I am truly excited. Kelly, I'm sorry I didn't hang around Monday night. I hope you understand (narcissists unite!). All in all it was a comfortable weekend. I was able to play some poker, some volleyball, and sit in the dark (literally, not metaphorically). The power was out upon my arrival at the house. I was able to get a key made, catch up on some news, buy a car charger for my now broken phone (sweet), bowl, catch a movie, and make a note.

I have often been fond of making a soft appearance, that is to say that I like to arrive without warning, and appear as if out of thin air (it adds to my mystique..ha). But the soft appearance plants a seed in the subconscious of people to whom I perform such magical feats. It serves as a sign that I am always there (certainly, saying it may work, but for some reason always seems to be only words to some), that you may never know when I'll arrive, but that it could be at any moment. I like that notion. I like believing that other people know that.

looking up.

**This was written nearly a week ago and shelved, but after a mild debate, I have decided to post it.

It has been a few days since I've really had anything to say, and though I sit here with a mind full of ideas, fears, hopes, I still find it difficult to express this bundle of emotion. I wish for things to be simple- for black and white to be the rule- but it isn't that way at all. I did think yesterday that one can manipulate the rule of law by simply controlling the evolution of a language, but in retrospect this would take a rather large group of people a rather long time. The limits of words are defined only by their use, which is ever-evolving, and the determination of which defination to be used is almost always contrived from the context and tone in which it is spoken- since, written word can only address one of these (though story-telling can address both) and therein lies the problem.

I have frequently thought of myself as an outsider. I can say with modest shame that I have never really felt as though I belonged anywhere my feet stood, nor in the company of others I've called friends. I merely arrive at some level of comfort with the places and people, so that the discomfort of not belonging only tinges like white-noise (though, for me, that is as bad as nails on a chalkboard, or the high pitched hum from a t.v.). I have learned to live in discomfort, learned to live with the aching misery that has accompanied me since the last time I was happy (I cannot clearly remember that time). So, when the shimmer of a long forgotten feeling catches the eye of the wearied traveler, quickly he becomes filled with hope and forgets his misery. But, lucky for him, there are people around to remind him of the tinged satchel slung over his shoulder- but for comfort he does not lay it down, if only because he hasn't reached the spot of shimmering hope. Perhaps he thinks that shimmer is just the leprechaun's pot of gold to disappear at the last moment, or he is just used to the satchel on his back , maybe he has become dependant on it. (yikes!) Either way, the hope that lingers in my eye is mine to spark into a fire or douse with water. Thank you, my friends, for your warm concern for my future, but the language you speak is farsi to me, and I won't concern myself with learning that language.

Amazing how those who say things happen for a reason are always the quickest to tell you you're making a mistake, when all you're really doing is putting your trust in a higher power.

Space and Tomorrow

I was going to write about the decline of the space program- this being the day the final shuttle mission was launched to repair the Hubble Space Telescope- but I shall instead go off script. No stories of how I won a third-grade essay contest on the future of space flight, no gleaming memories from my trip to Cape Canaveral, no lengthy speeches on the accomplishment of putting a man on the moon (which, unfortunately, means no Andy Kauffman references).

So this weekend was mother's day, a horrible day to break such news, and even more horrible when you know you have to hold it in, when all you want to do is let it loose. I am not a fan of creating chaos for others, but deal well with it myself. I attribute this to my ability to uptake multiple sources of information at the same time, process, and conclude in a fashion that does three things: makes sense in the scheme of things; makes some sort of progress; and maintains flow (I call this flow functionality).

As you may already know, I am moving! Yay! But until today my parents had yet to know that I was moving, or that it was occuring on such a short schedule, and without a job. Does any good conversation ever begin with, "I need to talk to you about something?" I suppose it depends, like all things, on perspective. It was like watching a pond frost over- when the shock set in- and I could sense some pain. All they could really muster was,"well, I guess you know what you're doing."

I don't know. For me, that is the most difficult thing imaginable. I am of the kind that needs facts, statistics, as much information as possible before I make a decision. It is here that I have cast aside the weight of thought and stand clutching that of hope. I will tell you it is somehow lighter. Either because I believe things will be better, or simply because I have someone who is there for me- she also believes things will be better for me (Thanks Belle!)

I didn't stay for long, as it was getting late and the season finale of House was on (I'm getting ready to watch the recorded version now). So, I suppose, as when we first watched the space shuttles cause the earth to tremble below plooms of white smoke, and arc up over the Atlantic Ocean heading into the unknown; when we were filled with the excitement of all possibility, so too do I sit here, typing to you about the same wonder and excitement that seems to have faded in our waxing years, but is now being replenished as a storied fleet is retired.

The Great Escape

With all the concern over the year 2012 approaching (thank you Mayans), and the ever growing social and political problems that have risen to the surface in recent years, I have decided that today I will attempt to reflect and prognosticate a bit.

Social Evolution-1. the gradual development of society and social forms, institutions, etc., usually through a series of peaceful stages.

Decadence-1. the act or process of falling into an inferior condition or state; deterioration; decay. 2. moral degeneration or decay; turpitude.
3. unrestrained or excessive self-indulgence.

Revolution-1. an overthrow or repudiation and the thorough replacement of an established government or political system by the people governed.
2. Sociology. a radical and pervasive change in society and the social structure, esp. one made suddenly and often accompanied by violence.

I love to begin with definitions. They always provide a clearer understanding of where to begin. So, to begin by assigning proper order to the definitions though, really, it is a matter of opinion (a chicken or egg proposition).

Social evolution occurs just as biological evolution, though on a more rapid basis. It is the idea and implementation of progress in a society. As ideas change, as the knowledge of a society changes, as its morals change, so too does a society. As stated in the definition, these changes are often peaceful, but there is the occassional violent upheaval- a coup. Not mentioned often enough is the role that art plays in such evolution. Art is always a good indicator of the status of a society. It seems that even before the society changes, the art movement has changed.

But today we are in a state of decadence, of decay, of idleness. Often can be heard someone asking, "where do we go from here?" It is easy enough to say that we have accomplished about all that can be done in the way of technology, all we seem to do now is to make it faster and more available to the masses, which in turn increases knowledge and idleness. It is argued that our sense of entitlement and self-indulgance is what lead us to this current economic crisis to begin with (just a sign of a decadent society). Sure, there are new art movements, new music trends, but if you look at them (listen to them), if you study them you can only come to the conclusion that they are only mixtures of past ideas and movements- What goes around comes back around again. We are recycling old ideas because we have found none that work effectively enough for us. And so we wait for the next step in social evolution.

Unfortunately, we have reached a rung (seemingly) in this round of social evolution in which the path we have chosen seems to have reached its limit. It is the farthest we can travel for the road we're on. The only way to fix it, to allow a society to continue on is revolution. I am NOT promoting violence, that is not my aim. My aim is, however, to point out where things are, in my view, heading- its like watching a horse run towards a cliff. It will come swiftly, and have the force of a volcanic eruption, because while we have been idle in decadence, the pressure has been mounting. One day a man/woman will wake up and say to himself, "this is ridiculous. I need to do something." and then it will begin. It will spread like a tsunami, and burn like the wildfires of California. Perhaps it has already begun.

Well, I have not met my expectations with this piece, but the thought process is more fluid than before, and more to my liking. But if it reads like diahrrea of the mouth, I apologize.

joys and burdens of being lit

Bonus post (because I need to clean my mirror)!

So in the calm moments before going to sleep I often catch phrases like people count sheep. The sun in all its glory, and the moon were my thought about a week ago. The habit of writing these down is as the whim of the wind (though I believe the wind has no whim, but arrives precisely where it should, when it should), though I suppose this makes my habit no habit at all.

Surely the joy of the sun is in the knowledge that it always shines-
always seeks to provide though it may be hindered by the clouds-
what burden it must be also, to always be on-
to be at risk of being taken for granted, but how much more the moon!
To always be on and less dim, less likely to be noticed, and when sky is
shared: noticed even less.
But the secret is this: to know that its light is the sun's-
standing only as a reflection- a rock in orbit cascading light-
for which it can only be grateful.

Coincidence seems to be the theme of the day. They are my favorite days

Solve et Coagula

The title phrase is latin and means: Separate, and Put together and is associated with Alchemy, which is the art of transformation.
It is both a philosophy and a practice with an aim of achieving ultimate wisdom as well as immortality, involving the improvement of the alchemist as well as the making of several substances described as possessing unusual properties.

This is what I read about at work today. I don't know why it popped into my head. Again I had been meditating on the relavent aspects of thermodynamics/fluid dynamics and life.

The most well known goal of alchemists was the transmutation of common metals into gold or silver; the creation of a "panacea", or the elixir of life, a remedy that supposedly would cure all diseases and prolong life indefinitely; and the discovery of a universal solvent.
I became particularly interested when glancing at the notes for the Magnum Opus (mystic interpretation of its three stages)
those being:

nigredo, blackening: individuation, purification,burnout of impurity

this being the section of the process designed to create awareness of shortcomings. the things we need to work on. It is here that we begin to understand that which hinders our personal growth and the achievement of enlightment (self-knowledge and outer-knowledge)
albedo, whitening: spiritualisation, enlightenment
the section where the increase in knowledge and self awareness are fulfilled, without the hinderance of impurity.
rubedo, reddening: unification of man with god, unification of the limited with the unlimited.
once we are enlightened and can see all things clearly, we can see what was once limited can now be considered limitless... the possibilites of the body, mind, and soul, reach farther can a man can imagine, as his imagination is limited by his mind, frought with impurity and the perceived limitations of the world we see. Sometimes I wonder what the sparkles are, and then just give up the mental exercise to enjoy their dance. I often see them as dancing the way an atom may, but really their movement is fluid and awkward- and maintains a certain connectivity- lacking randomness (sort of like watching a balloon over a fan turned upwards).

I should apologize for the fragmentedness of the post, but I think it best to leave it as-is. I am having difficulty with correlations lately, perhaps as a punishment for trying to force it rather than letting the natural flow of though occur.

Look forward to the next post, which should be a bit more eloquent, involving the social evolution of decadence and revolution (and of course their association to an individual life.

A bridge to happiness.

I have thought about this post for nearly three days, and always come up empty in relating the ideas of thermodynamics and life. So I looked to Fluid dynamics only to find the same thing. So they must be saved for another day.

Today, I shall keep to being a minimalist- something I desperately need work on. I have a tendency to overcomplicate issues, followed by the overwhelming feeling of not having a vocabulary deep enough, or wide enough, to complement the sentiments needing to be conveyed. So I wish to keep it simple, to build the bridge one step a time across the river of my lacking.

I spent most of the day in an anxious fervor. I was excited that I had a variety of work items to keep me just busy enough to not feel stressed, and to not notice the time pass. So when the maintenance man came to repair the ballasts of the light fixture above my cubicle, it was already time to kindly give notice of my impending departure.

I was surprised to hear a slight chord of envy as I relinquished the words I had stored in my chest all day, "I will be leaving at the end of the month." I have chosen May 27 for no other reason than to say it appeared as the proper day as I glared at my calendar. It allows me enough time to train others on my secondary responsibilities, or allows others the time to find replacements for my duties. I took the Tuesday before as a vacation day, and that Monday is memorial day.

I am excited to have impending change in my life, and it comes in at just under 3 years- funny how the phases of my life seem to work according to this schedule; my only hope is that I am not a slave to it.

Last night was the beginning of organizing my assorted collection of things I'm unattached to. I am not attached to many of my posessions- I'm happy to have never placed happiness into the bucket containing material posession. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy having nice things (though I have none), but I much prefer to think and learn- perhaps now I may be equipped enough to do.

Go out into the world, do good, and be happy. yes, that would be nice.