Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I held any actual redeeming qualities. I admire people who do, and I always advise those who wish to be the mystery in the room, that this is something they really don’t want: it’s not a pretty place to be. Through the murk of these feelings I emerge who I’m supposed to be, or who I hope to be. I think I’ve come quite a ways, but to be honest, the rewards are far and few in between. So I get out the “to be thankful for” list, and I start listing. What I find is that a list does appear, where I find myself being grateful for the good friends I have, and for being able to tolerate the rough things in life (knowing plenty have it worse), and that maybe I should seek more of both.
I rode my bike in the bitter cold, and I felt the winds pushing me, and I thought, “this is hard, so I should do more of this.” I’m thinking I should get one of those jobs on one of those fishing boats in the Alaskan ocean, and when the boat is churning through the ice upside down in sludge pile ice waves, I’ll feel right at home and ask for more. Right now, I’ve ordered books and I’m tackling the work in advance, and I see this as more ways of having the hard winds push in my face, and so when life gets hard…I’m damned used to it, and proud of it! When the fists come swinging, on go the gloves. Such is the way, the secret that everyone knows, or should know. I wonder if at some point, a gentler side will emerge to my psyche someday.
I have spent the entire night doing excessive research on the UC Davis website, and I’m finding that surfing and navigating that GARGANTUAN tangle of links, passwords, course codes, etc., etc., takes quite the skill; skills I feel that are valuable. I’ve never seen a site so excessively excessive in detail and options, and I think I’m acquiring skills I could actually use on my résumé. On top of that, I’ve gotten through half of Jane Eyre, and I’m marveled by the prospect of this near, utterly perfect individual: and she reminds me of someone I know too! Is it possible for someone to actually possess such a lily-white conscience; indeed it is…but I’ll leave the name anonymous (maybe it would be Buster here…).
My latest choice in listening material are movie soundtracks. Every time I rent a movie, when the credits appear, I record on one of those ancient cassette player/recorders; after a while, I have an entire list of songs by unknown (to me) artists (though I did manage to learn of one call Wunderkind, by A. Morissette). Anyways, the song lyrics playing right now as I type go: “You’ve gotta laugh a little, cry a little, let your poor heart break a little…that’s story of, that’s the glory of love…,” and the voice sounds like Louis Armstrong; y’all know who Louis Armstrong is? Shame on you if you don’t.
So I’m retaining the necessary traits for survival over here, but I hope I don’t have to live like that forever. I’m thinking of the wolf that survives in the wild, but doesn’t something good eventually happen with these types? To be honest, I have a meeting with some people this weekend, and I have a new connection in the apartment business; I’ve got a psychology club that needs participants, which will be excellent because these psych classes are fairly intense. At this point, I lighten up on myself, filter out the bad things that try o so hard to seep into my brain, and carry on with the party that is life. So with these thoughts I leave the world of blogging: straight forward and unedited, because editing just censors what we really think, right?
By the way, I posted a short story that hints at the possibility of a little less madness in the world that could emerge with a “little” love. Enjoy!