grass

I am just looking for a connection. For a way to feel like I have shared something - a moment, a feeling, an experience. I miss that feeling.

Grass is always greener in every pasture but the one you are standing in. Maybe that is because we keep walking in circles looking for the gate and pacing because we feel trapped until we've worn our own grass down until nothing remains but dirt and mud. I think maybe I just want to live where there are no fences, that way you are on neither this side, nor that one. Maybe then I can stop pacing.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.4

Cynical

The Matrix is a fairy tale. Maybe we aren't really living the life we think we may be. Perhaps we are all in a safe little bubble, secure, and these patterns of life that we believe to be real are simply dreams. Free will perhaps gone, but taken with it is the decisions that lead us to where we find ourselves.

cynical tonight.

Pessimistic perhaps and persistently patient that paradise performs nightly in the presence of my mind.

Old Blog postings...

Life never lives up to our expectations, does it? And I've always heard that life is what you make of it. I get that, I really do. Then someone sent me a quote yesterday, in an (appreciated) attempt at cheering me up - Happiness is not getting what you want, but wanting what you already have. So now here I sit, pondering that. Isn't that settling? Should we really settle? Why shouldn't we go out there and really fight for what it is that we desire, to break all of the rules and do anything necessary to attain our wishing star?

Here's a For Instance - someone has a great, enjoyable career that pays well, has good benefits, and is doing something where they are 'making a difference.' But they've always dreamed of being a photographer for a wildlife magazine. If they see that opportunity arise, why shouldn’t' they go for it? As long as all financial barriers are covered in the meantime, drop what you are doing, and chase your dream. Take every picture you can, until your shutter finger is worn and calloused. You may ultimately lose the cushy, comfortable job, yes. But wouldn't you have always wondered what your lens would show? You never know unless you try, right?

I think we all should give it all up for every turn at fate. If you settle, you are surrendering. Waving that white flag and saying "nah, it's okay, I'm here, I'm fed and clean as a prisoner and out of danger of being taken hostage by the next troop that comes along, so I'll stay right here." Well what if the war is over just beyond the next hill? What if you can keep running, never looking back and make that climb? You'd see that peace you'd knew could be discovered somewhere if you look in the right spot - at just the right time.

Explanations

I found an old blog (myspace) today. Well, I didn't really find it, I was reminded of it. (Thanks! ;) ) I had quite a few entries in there that now are a delight to read. Thoughts, rambles, unfinished stories. Some of these going back so long ago, to a different life. I might share a couple here.. although they will seem outdated now. But still worth preserving.

I imagine that my myspace page will be gone soon, I couldn't even remember the password to get to the blog. So expect a few updates that may seem strange.

resting

The house is finally quiet. I am alone in my room, and the windows are open, letting in the symphony of night things and air entwined. The fan captures their melody and sprays it over my sweat soaked skin, bringing my nipples to attention. In the distance, yard dogs gossip with one another about their day, not close enough to cause an annoyance. Evening has brought with it a calm. The myriad of problems that swallowed my day have melted, so that not a trace remains. At this exact moment, as the curtains lift themselves in dance away from the night, I find that I cannot recall any singular stressing factor from my life.

Indeed, there is no offense lurking in the closet, no deadline rushing at me headfirst, and no petulant children beckoning me to their side. This moment is perfect. The intersection of complete contentment and physical comfort, where nothing more than this is needed or yearned for. No meditative guides, no soothing sounds seeping through speakers.

A train whistle bellows and is echoed. The hum of the discs massaging the tracks moans like a lullaby to my soul, and I close my eyes and rest.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

Envy

Man boy, maybe 22 at the most. What looks like second hand clothes, a torn knapsack, a bottle of water, and an air mattress. Seems to be alone here at the camp ground. Seen him a few times this weekend. He floats down the river on top of his queen sized mattress, into the crystal clear spring, where he then lies on his stomach and digs goggles out of his knapsack to peer into the water and watch the divers or fish below him. He puts away his goggles and then dives into the icey water time and again with the biggest grin on his face each time he emerges with a shake of his head. When he has tired of this he pulls his mattress out of the water and finds a quiet spot away from the crowds to put it out in the sun, stretches out with an apple or sandwich he has removed from a plastic bag deep within that sack before setting it aside. After finishing his meal, he lays in the sun and naps.


I think right now I envy this man boy more than I ever have any other.

Cauchemar

A device meant to make you a better person. Meant to assist you in overcoming your fears and inhibitions; and to show you just what it all (life) holds for you if you don't do better, if you don't try harder, if you fail to go as far with this life as you are "supposed" to. Also meant as rehabilitation if, at any point in your success, you begin to slip. A gently nudging reminder of what lies at the end of the path to self destruction.

Sensory deprivation. Electrodes wires and clamps gently feeding you all of your surroundings, supporting cast of characters, thoughts, feelings and more. So realistic you'd never realize it wasn't until you were snapped back to the other reality. To the real reality. Snapped back with gratitude at the lesson learned.

I show up in a rush, frustrated that The Company has decided that their CEO needed a booster session from Cauchemar, but knowing that this is the policy I, myself, has implemented. Stopping to smile with an infant in the lobby hardly equates to "actions, thoughts, or emotions non-conducive to the further successful progression of oneself in all matters directly or indirectly in a position to influence the rate of prosperity of The Company." ( A gorgeous child. Green eyes. And those little ringlets of reddish-blonde curl sprouting around her ears...) A brief smile released and exchanged at the sound of a giggle brought forth by her Mum twirling her in the air near the fountain on the ground floor was caught on the security cameras and reported, as is company policy. Protocol mandates that if a smile is found to be wistful in nature, the bearer is required to undergo a full session on the réparation device. The only longing permitted by The Company's policy is that for continued acceleration of success.

I am greeted at the door by Cyril, the receptionist, and shown to my room without comment. It is a small room with dim lighting and no sound. The chair before me resembles that in a dentist's, but much plusher and with a slightly more elevated lower half, for raising the feet above the heart in order to assist in relaxation. I slip off my Manolos and Marc Jacobs pantsuit, lie them on the small rack provided in the corner of the room, and put on the sensoriels suit, designed to block the feel of the chair's touch on the body. It is a lightweight bodysuit that covers all exposed skin, leaving only the head and neck bare. I climb into the chair and instantly feel more relaxed, although I am mentally running through the things that need to be done, phone calls that need to be made, and contemplating changing the policy of The Company simply for wasting my time on this Tuesday morning.

Cyril waits patiently for me to finish preparing, and then presses a small button to the left of the door that makes no sound I can discern, signaling to the staff that I am ready for treatment. She smiles softly at me as she begins to leave the room.

"Enjoy this life as much as possible, I'll see you in a few hours."

I don't bother smiling back.

She walks out as Riley walks in and closes the door again behind her. I'm glad to see who will be handling me today. Riley is quiet. She will not want to to discuss why I might be here. She will not require me to review the full life I am about to live and experience in only a matter of a few hours on what would otherwise be a productive morning, upon my completion of the treatment. All the quicker I can get back to the office this afternoon.

Riley quickly and efficiently attaches the necessary nodules and wires to multiple points of contact on my suit, scalp and face. She pulls the articulated arm holding the helnel and slides it across the room towards me. She places the headgear around the upper half of the chair, enveloping me mostly in darkness and effectively cutting out the small amount of sound there was in the room. I feel only the slightest hint of a prick as the needle pierces the small area underneath my hairline just behind my right ear.

Instantly I can feel my body temperature rising, and a deep lethargy taking over. My last conscious thought is that I hope this time I am at least single.

I'm ready to wake up now.