There is a disturbing trend I'm seeing these days (and maybe it isn't a new trend, but just that I am finally opening my eyes to it, or that recently I've been in the situations to see more of it)

People are not taking responsibility for themselves in an alarming amount of different capacities. And, in addition to the abovementioned multitude of capacities, THEY are also taking less personal responsibility in each situation; relying more and more on Fate, and God, and Society, and trendy new Quick Fixes, and The Easy Way Out, and Irrational Spirituality to coddle them throughout life.

And if that weren't enough by itself - THEY are angry when these remedies fail to yield the results they expect (long for).

I had the biggest, most complex, and logistically challenging assignment of my career Friday. There were several problems, and I am dissapointed with several of the pictures, and a few aspects of how I handled situations, but I don't think I fucked it up. I think there is something salvageable from every component of the project.

(does that mean it was a success? or a failure?)

I'll tell you this: I would make a fanstasic president in 30 years.

I wandered into Starbucks a little earlier than usual today and 2 employee/friends not only noticed that I was early, but said something about it. Wierd how people follow such patterns. Wierd how it is almost forced on us by society, wierd (the word looks wierd to me just now), wierd that they know this part of my pattern.

Holy Fucking Shit and Shit. I hate spending money on lunch - and now I have to buy a car. A car. A goddamn car.

fiscal responsability VS. enjoyment

I am such a control freak that I constantly, consiously try to mitigate all possible chance of collapse or dissaster in every aspect of my life; resulting in few long-standing, cherished, personal relationships, a high degree of paranoia, and a relativley succesful existance.

OK, I just like the order of the words:
I had 8 stubborn baby teeth yanked when I was still a smaller child. Then 4 adult teeth they said if were removed I'd not have to have the recently removed wisdom teeth removed.

It's raining, the coffee's hot, there are things to do, a few parts of the near future scare me, I'm looking forward to something today; Just where I need to be...

One might ask "what are you doing?"

And I might then counter with, "But really, what am I not doing?"

So many things:

Must make something of a forced timing situation with the car. DAMN I hate spending money.

Many control issues to think about (that I wish I had followed my overthinking last night and actually written down some insights, rather than "not thinking")

Related to the above: Q - What has overthinking ever done for me?
A - It's not what it has done for me, but rather what has it protected me from.

The following is my heart rate and B.P. readings just before, and during my 3rd molar extraction the other day.

11:13 46 131/71
11:20 70 143/73
11:26 70 134/63
11:32 69 146/87
11:38 66 146/76
11:44 58 143/68
11:50 52 142/75

If anyone knows anything about this will you let me know how my body did?

I'm an Adventurer
+
I'm a Man of Many Worlds

I settled back into my chair not sure if I could face doing the work I was supposed to have been doing all morning when the huge door opened, exposing the outside world. An older woman dressed in a bright blue suit and hat pushed on through.

She flung the huge door all the way open, and jumped when the echo of it crashing into the wall finally reverberated back to her a second later. After pushing herself through the huge hole she wandered around the little lobby area trying to figure out just where she was. Grabbing hold of the wide brim of her matching blue hat with her left hand she sort of folded it up; allowing her to see the second floor. She wandered about the entire courtyard this way – mostly walking backwards, but still holding the brim of her hat up with her hand.

Every few steps she would utter something she thought was only an internal thought. “Oh my” and after a few more awkward backward shuffles “what in the devil”.

Finally she backed past me and for the first time in these 3 minutes the idea that she was the first person to ever see this place disappeared from her thoughts. What replaced it I’ll never know, but as soon as her eyes moved from the second floor down to me she let out a confused shriek. It was a short high-pitched little outburst (probably believed by her to be another internal thought, not an outward vocalization) that left the place more silent and solemn than before she arrived.

A second after her eyes met mine she averted them, pulled the flap of hat back over her eyes, adjusted her suit, and walked directly out the gaping hole in the wall her entry had created.

Not saying a word, because really, I had nothing to say, (and no one to say it to) I waited until she was clear of the building and slowly got back up from my chair. I crossed the same distance she just did but rather than disappearing myself, I hefted the door back into place, sealing off reality once again.

Thankful that she had come in and broke through my haze I packed up my computer, and for the first time in a few days figured it was time to see if I had any friends still in town.

I wonder if my illusuon of others' expectations is far higher than reality - In adition, I realize that my expectations are far higher than everyone elses', prividing the other edge to this sward.

I wish someday someone will say (and I will be deserving of having it said) to me.

Enjoy it - it's truly yours.

And I wish more than that for myself to believe it.

I may not be a genius but once again it appears as if I have fabricated the correct answer(s). There is that infinitley fine line between ignorance and knowledge that I seem to walk on a constant basis; and so far (suprising to me and most who know me) I manage to stand up on that razor thin edge, not plummiting into either side, and manage to get up every day and have something I should do.

Timing is everything

Several things to post tonight.

I am happy I am here alone (besides the fact it hurts to talk, and I would feel obligated to talk if someone was here) I feel more comfterable here alone. This is my deal, and I'm dealing with it. I don't have to let anyone in - thus - making a bond, a connection.

This also reminds me of a bit from a great book Infinite Jest - where a guy won't take pain killers for his multiple-gunshot wounds because he is a recovering addict and doesn't want to break all his work. He mentions that each individual second is not unbareable... so just string them together. (now I am not saying that this is anywhere near real pain, but it made me think of that part)

I need to save 6 vikoden to put in my backpacking/travel first aid kit.

Well, nothing is ever as bad as my mind works it up to be (when I think ti will be bad)(I guess that is the one upside to my generally degenerative overthinking)

And I am so pleased with music right about now. Headphones and an Ipod are great.

Well, huh - nothing really to say.

Fears:

One fear - faced
One fear - 1 hour from being faced
One fear - dependant on others (so that in itself is another) but soon...

So I'm into the third day of my attempted week of giving up coffee (and in the process, aparently, the coffee shop as well) I like the physical results already but am not too happy about the mental consequenses...

Maybe it's harder than I thought to overcome one's nature.

It's funny that when I get overwhelmed I tend to try and hide or dissapear.

Here are some good quotes from THE SHADOW OF THE WIND by: Carlos Ruiz Zafon

•"If only everything hurt as little as a blow to the face..."
•"I, who was never even sure what time is was, nodded with the conviction of the ignorant."
•"the moment you stop to think about wether you love someone, you've already stopped loving that person forever"
•"Few things are more deceptive than memories"
•"While you're working, you don't have to look life in the eye."
•"Most of us have the good or bad fortune of seeing our lives fall apart so slowly we barely notice."
•"Time has taught me not to lose hope, yet not to trust too much in hope either."

After a while the phone was silent, looking almost awkward sitting on the granite floor. For a moment I felt ashamed that I was living in this fantasy. Some times it seems as if real life keeps flying by and I’m just sitting there watching with my face pressed hard against the glass.

The light was soft this morning. Overcast skies and a gusty wind made the summer heat unimportant today. They also added affect to the fantasy reality I couldn’t (and didn’t really want to) pull myself from.

The courtyard was empty all morning, which allowed me to talk so freely on the phone earlier. Now, the emptiness of the space was comforting. Stone pillars rose from the granite covered ground up the two stories that surrounded this little secluded square. Dark green vines blanketed the walls up above and their ends dangled overhead like the tails of a thousand lizards gripping the stone – twitching in the breeze that drifted over the roofless top of the courtyard.

Eager to stay in this mood I strolled over to one of the numbered rooms lining the interior and twisted the knob. Inside I asked Raimey for another double espresso and smiled when she asked me if I thought she needed new shoes.

“Yes Raimey, I think you do need some new shoes,” I said. She didn’t, but wanted me to say she did so she’d have an excuse. “You’ve been good for a while, treat yourself.”

She smiled back and handed me my teeny white coffee cup that seemed a better fit in a dollhouse than in this place. She added a mark to the tally on the wall with a piece of chalk and disappeared into the back. There were several columns in her ledger-on-the-wall indicating that I wasn’t the only one in this fantasy.

I wandered back to my table and sat the cup down next to my laptop. The truly amazing here is how well everything is hidden. The electric outlet that keeps my computer glowing is hardly visible on the ground under some plants. Had a newcomer wandered inside he would be amazed that there was power at all here, let-alone outlets in the floor. They spared no expense during the remodeling process. Even a high-speed wireless Internet connection that granted secure access to anyone valued enough to get their own password.

So I'm wondering how long I can live in this fantasy reality? Can I do it forever?

*
She was sitting on the concrete next to a swimming pool this morning, talking with me on a cell phone. She sounded a little overwhelmed, and yet, almost relieved at the same time. Nothing was new but the realization of our circumstances that was beginning to become more evident while time drifted by.

It was as if the forces that slowly caught up with her this morning could tip the scale. She had seen them following her for some time now. Sometimes openly in broad-daylight they would follow her, but more often than not they'd hop from shadow to shadow undetected, and gain most of their ground under the cover of darkness.

This morning, when she was talking on the phone I knew she already had a little chat with these forces. I knew that she was realizing the words we've spoken numerous times before. The current reality was grabbing hold and boring painful little holes in her pale skin.

It pained me to hear her unhappy.

But things are out of my hands, and have been for a long time. She, however, knows this far better than I.

As we continued to talk, and as she got a little overreaction out of her system, a smile crept across my face. This was a conversation I was pleased with. Not because of the topic, or the sense of impending doom, but because of the rawness of everything. Because of the way we handle things of this nature, and because I was letting her settle further inside me. During the conversation she let down her protective shield of age and was pure again.

I always thought that the reason we endured 12 horse-shit years of school was to learn to follow directions and work the system. SO why is it that so many fucking people can't read one short paragraph and do one simple thing? one thing.

OK, so that was a VERY oversymplified version of the acuality of the situation. There is another major type of person in the world, as they relate to me verbally, AND many people aren't neatley fitting into one category (damn grey area)

So the third type of person comingles the present and the past and we either invent an alternate reality or theorize and speculate about things that aren't concrete.

There is a lot more to explore here, but now I have to go...

There seems to be two kind of people in the world, as they relate to me.

One type of person and I only seem to talk about the past. Their past, then my past, or if we've known each other a long time we can talk about our past. But the conversation rarely goes anywhere in the future, or the present.

The other type of person and I talk about the present, and the past. My day, their day, something on the TV or in Russia AND my past, their past interweaving them in one coherent (and to me far more interesting and appealing) dialogue.

Now Both tyoes of people seem capeable of both types of conversation and thought-process; however, personality and chemistry seem to dictate the conversation relationship between us.