Thursday, February 9, 2012


Lots of thoughts piling up lately, in between the strenuous granite layers of work load.  I can't seem to hold them long enough to run them out into sentences.

Let me try.

People love these headphones with B on them.  Heavy plastic.  I haven't ever heard them, but they sure seem to signify status lately.  Style.  Acceptability.  To what?  Well, to show that you have extra income.  To make yourself stylish.  They're not about the music.  They are about showing what you have.  That much seems evident, right?  IF they were about the music, then I'd imagine the set of headphone wearers out there would stay about the same in number, but that the type of headphones they wore would differ. That variability is manifestly absent.

Also.  Women.  With your boots.  And spikey high heels.  Listen.  I know they are sexy.  They ARE sexy.  I'm not saying they aren't.  They make we want to go out and buy a pair of expensive headphones to show you all how worthy I am, how much waste I can produce for the sheer signal that I'm worthy to partner down with, yeah, but also, are they really comfortable?  Why is it that I feel as if I'm in the backstage of some porn video, and all of the stars are rushing in and around me on their way to transition scenes and inappropriate gestures, and well, I'm on the train.  I'm in penn station.  I'm on the street.  I don't watch porn mind you.  Maybe IF I were a porn addict.  That'd be one thing.  And if that were the case, I would tell you, albeit anonymously.

Then again, if I could take comfort in the state of the world by conjuring up an image of myself as a porn addict, perhaps I'm not doing enough to make the world a better place?

That's one thought RE: headphones and stiletto boots.

One more thought.

Many many many times, we should just say, OKAY, I was WRONG, even when we don't mean it.  Just for the sake of flexibility, trying to just be people and acknowledge that we can justify our own opinions forevermore, but need NOT.  In fact, what I'm saying is that we can actually be closer to people if we let our egos go a little bit (this is counter-intuitive, in that we feel that we need a strong principled self in order to what, interact with high caliber people?).  In reality we need to learn flexibility in the right places and rigidity in the right places, and in my experience (with myself), well, I've had flexibility in the places that were supposed to be rigid and rigidity in the places that were supposed to be flexible.

To wit, fighting with my mother: There was no need to show her this kind of bellicosity.  She didn't need it.  I didn't need it.  We play-acted it out, and sure, she did do some culpable things, but that's okay.  Sometimes we need to implicitly accept unspoken apologies that would have happened if the people we actually know were the people we desired to know, in our heads.  You know those head people right?  The ones you're always fake-interacting with, styling yourself for, trying to save up a coupla bucks for some BEATs by DRE?

There are people in my life I can't let go of.  In that I have all of the cherished experiences we shared in tiny globule-like crystal balls of perfection, playing out for me as if in a music box whenever I want them too, even and often when I'm interacting with other people, and even and often not under my own control.

Not that I have an obsession with these people, or that these people are the people I'm trying to impress with my stilletto heels.  I'm not.  It just so happens that these were people who happened to be embedded with me in life's whatever, context, rich and colorful, as we came into a sort of development of ourselves that, while ongoing, sure, is, let's face it, a lot slower and different than it was previously (although I'm open to the idea that it is not, out of hope if nothing else).  Anyway, I guess with all of those people there's something true.  It is this.  I was trying, desperately trying, to be really honest.  And, while I was trying to be honest, I was also very, very, full of myself.  In the name of honesty.  And anyway, I'm not talking about all of the people in my head now, just few for a specific period.

And I admit that I get excited.  I'm excitable.  In that I get overly hopeful.  In that I'm very very sensitive to the world, and to my own spinning reel of thoughts.  And it feels good to have intense emotions again, after a 9 month hiatus.

I'm sober.  I am still doing that sober thing.  I am still trying to be serious without polluting myself with it.  I am going to keep trying.  I am trying to let go of the ideal of a day when all of my trying leads me into a land of fantastical bliss.  I am going to accept that changes that I feel should happen, should happen now, at least incrementally, because they won't happen if they don't start now, and I'm trying to understand that life is about trying sometimes, without clear ends and goals and conclusions.  After all, if we knew how it was all resolved, well, there'd be nothing to wonder about.  There'd be no wondering at all.  There wouldn't be, period.

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