Weirdos =P
A new day, and as usual, a new experience. Even as the days seem to blur in monotony, there is always something new, something unusual, and something completely unexpected. The something always falls somewhere on the spectrum of importance to whomever it occurs, and for this reason, we don't always realize that a something has just happened. Today a something happened to me. It was one of those unusual out of place moments that shake up your foundation of reality. One of those moments that picks the safe little comfortable shack of your life up in the air, and smashes it back down somewhere completely unfamiliar. These kind of moments land high enough on the scale of importance to not only make a dent in our safe little havens, but obliterate good portions of it. As gloomy as a save heaven made unsafe may seem, the other side of this event shines ever so brightly. By breaking down the walls, the tornado sets us free to glimpse all roads of life, and that's why I'm grateful for the moment's happening. The shack has landed, and the long overdue remodeling is well on its way. The front door now located on another wall. A wall previously blocked by junk I should have cleaned up long ago.
Will. The need to strive. That which gets us anywhere at any time. That which help us get up when we have fallen down. It's something many lack, and very few poses in great enough amounts. Most have a very limited, finite amount of this nonexistent, hard to define stuff, and not surprisingly, but oh so unfortunately, I am one of those people. At the moment. For now. People can always exercise their will muscles. Their will to resist and the will to keep going. The will to fight your countless and most of the time annoying instincts. They help us think less, but at the same time, worry more. The animal inside that would have been helpful with a smaller frontal cortex, but with the brain power of a human (as measly as it still really is) it has, once again, become annoying.
Anyway, the above came from a thought entirely different. I finally had a few dreams, and I remembered one of them! This makes me excited because of an idea I have once executed, by the name of "Dream Logs." I've been hoping to bring them back, but the exhausting days have gotten in the way. I need the willpower to get things done, and cut off consumption at any point. I need to fight against the inertia of life. Thankfully I have already started, if my half broken- half repaired shack is of any indication.
Its one of those days...
Coffee helped the past few days. It usually wakes me up a little, and gives me the boost that knocks me out of my head and back into reality, but today it didn't help. I observed the subtle changes that caffeine brought on to my body from a place deep within, without it ever calling to me, without it affecting the clarity of mind one bit.
I feel like I've very recently changed, and I'm not sure how to be my past self anymore. While its a good thing, we always have to move on, always have to advance, always learning new things and taking into account all the new experiences, at the moment I don't feel like myself. I feel very disconnected from who I really am (or used to be just a week or two back) and I'm not sure if I like the direction I've gone, and the place my personality is currently at. It could just be a seasonal thing, I could be feeling weird because of multiple reasons. A change of sleep pattern, a change in food, physical activity, the fact that Im a little sick, the insane changes in my life, It could be a lot of things, but whatever it is, its a mystery to me, and because of that, there is nothing I can really do. I'll try to come back as soon as possible from this dark place of strange disconnect and disorientation. Here is a cool picture, for no particular reason:
Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — “God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”
–Kurt Vonnegut
It all snapped back. Reality is back to normal. As unusual as all that was, no longer can I connect to the thoughts I wrote above. Its interesting, just as my past could not connect to me of present, I can't even begin to understand how to be him. I don't know what it feels to not be me, to be disconnected from the world and disoriented by the existence in it. I'm glad the feeling is forgotten, but to see a shadow written by a stranger in my blog, that's definitely something new.
Imagine an enormous space all filled with bubbles full of stuff. These bubbles had identical beginnings, and the stuff inside them all came from a single pot, boiling on an eternal flame. They all traverse the space, it's what they do, and as they do, the stuff inside forever shifts. It changes colors to reflect all that's around, to match the bubbles and the space. The sight is beautiful, no doubt, but as with everything, things tend to change in other ways. Things tend to change with other speeds. The bubbles that don't change, are either forced to, or the unspoken happens to the poor. The bubbles pop the unconformity, and as the bubbles pop, the colored stuff forever falls into the abyss below. The echo of a pop spreads through the entirety of space, and every bubble feels the pop, and every bubble knows the terror. It makes them all get closer to each other, because you never know where and when the next pop is to happen. The bubbles don't really know the space and why its there, and they don't know where they should go, or what to do, but they do all that feels the most correct in the unknown - they all get close to feel each other's warmth. Still, as close as lost ones get together, a touch is rare in the floating space. A single touch could either pop both bubbles or connect the two, their stuff combining into a compromising mess. Sometimes the two courageous ones do make this happen, and change the tint of their stuff forever, but most the time, when one is curious, the other runs away, keeping the stuff inside as private as it can, keeping the outside away from terrifying touch. All out of fear. The fear of the pop. The fear of change. The fear of regret. The fear that discourages us all to make new friends and meet new people, the fear that keeps the honesty at bay, and the depths of our souls as shielded they come. So very lost, and so alone. Of course, not all are lost, and there is always hope. At least to those who aren't scared of the touch. To those who gladly open up and show their soul. They do it with great pride and honor too, for there is nothing shameful in opening yourself to others. There is nothing wrong with being you. As long as you are not too scared of the pop.
Ha! This is fantastic. I haven't felt anything positive in ages. It's been stress, disgust, exhaustion, and irritation all throughout the past few months. I haven't even noticed that most of the things I've felt on the regular basis have been absolutely negative. But out of nowhere that state was interrupted! I looked back at a creation of mine, and thought "Damn I'm good!" And with that positive mind I looked at my future and it looked brighter and clearer than it has ever before. This is great! I know the feeling won't last long, but I can't help but hope for it to do so anyway. It brought me inspiration and hope, and those have been missing from my life much longer than I'd ever admit. The always happy, bubbly, lighthearted Artem. Maybe I can stop acting now.
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