Saturday, March 31, 2007
Truly having nothing to prove
As I have grown older, I believe that I have acquired a better understanding of what it means to be human and with that understanding, an appreciation for how little meaning exists in most human beings. That is not to say that there are not certain humans I care a great deal for, but the number of people I truly respect has gone from few to hardly any with time. Most people are too busy to get involved, too busy to care, and too busy to back up their words with any genuine action. Most people are talkers, who rarely follow through. As such, their opinions are meaningless spittle being pissed into a head wind that is rapidly passing them by.
For most of my youth, I spent a great deal of my time worrying about what such people thought. I made the mistake of fearing the unknown in the form of their perceptions of who I am, what I stand for, etc. It took most of the years between 20 and 25 to realize how utterly full of shit these people really are. Freeing the self of their illusory burden was an experience akin to shedding a rotten, dreary skin, for something much more vibrant and fresh. Focusing on the insights, rather than the opinions, of the few humans I have known who were worthy of respect (or even esteem) altered my internal perception irrevocably. My concept of what it meant to be a Man in this world changed entirely. In what seems like an instant, I slashed the tether that binds so many of us to commonalities and started looking for a different way of seeing the world.
The point is, I discarded any sense that I needed to prove myself to anyone. The fact of the matter is, I will not ever make the sort of money, wield the sort of power, or carry the sort of prestige that seems to mesmerize the elite and the proles alike. It's not a matter of capabilities, it's a matter of motivation. How motivated are you to be wealthy? Famous? Powerful? These things mean NOTHING in the great journey. We may be able to enjoy the tangible fruits of hoarding, accumulating, and consuming, but in a world where life is temporary and the mysteries seemingly infinite, what difference do any of these things really make? With so few altruists amongst this world's ruling class, what is the point of power and wealth beyond the stroking of one's proverbial phallus in front of a horde of hallow admirers and hangers on?
The proverbs and dictates of the world's religions are there for a reason. For nearly 5000 years, humans have been recording history, passing the lessons of previous inhabitants to subsequent generations in a continual, though not entirely successful, effort to push the species toward some promised, "better tomorrow". In the end, how far we have traveled is highly debatable. What cannot be debated is the insignificance of a purely visceral, physical, closed existence. So then, it is completely ridiculous to prove anything to anyone but one's self. No one else's journey matters if yours is one wasted, because everyone's life you touch will be tainted by your wasted time, rather than blessed by your shared knowledge and lessons.
In so many ways, we waste our time and our energy proving to others what has no real meaning to ourselves. I've been there, done that, but no longer recognize the drive as being valid...haven't for a long time, really.
I think of this as I read an article written by a sportbike rider chastising, when not outright condemning, humans foolish (or cowardly) enough to ride a Harley-Davidson. Most people(myself included, perhaps) really are little more than shortsighted, insecure, pathetic little monkeys. It's sad, in a way, but not at all surprising. The worst part is, I like sportbikes. In fact, I was seriously thinking about buying one last year, but ultimately circumstances and the realization that I would very likely drive too fast, too often, discouraged the purchase.
In my experience, the sportbike crowd is more about risk taking, showing off, and engaging in generally dangerous behaviors. They are thrill seekers, and while I have no problem with that, the general attitude in the sportbike scene seems to be an ugly, egotistical, insecure one. That is not to say the Harley crowd doesn't have its issues. It amazes me how many people on Harleys carry some preconceived notion of superiority, simply because they spent more money than the next guy. Many of them are posing as rebel bikers in the Easy Rider vein. These types of people buy bikes to get laid, and you'll find a lot of that in the Harley and Sportbike worlds. That's not what I'm about. In fact, having a motorcycle will very likely hurt my chances with the kind of girl I would like to date, but ultimately, that's irrelevant to me.
I want a Harley because it is slow, loud, and beautiful. A Harley-Davidson harks back to an era when people were polite, when sleeping with an 100 people wasn't "sexual experimentation", and when drugs weren't a mainstream, recreational activity. It symbolizes a piece of Americana that probably never actually existed, but one that I would still like to experience. I could get a sportbike and go 150mph as if I was doing 55, but why? At this point in my life, I'd rather fly low and slow, enjoying the scenery and relaxing on the back of an old school, low-revving V-twin. I want to take some long rides. I want to get away from exactly the sort of people that seem to dominate the sportscar and sportbike scenes. There's nothing left to prove to any of these people, so why bother trying?
Labels: life
Friday, March 30, 2007
Bugatti Veyron...again
Absolutely stunning what Man can do with enough effort and expertise. The greatest road car ever created...
Labels: cars
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Post-twins, Uncle Erik reflects
Scott and Laura were in town for over a week, but I was only able to spend a small part of three different days with them. My schedule is so full, it's hard to find the time, particularly with one term wrapping up and another beginning. Wish it could have been more, but it just wasn't meant to be. Guess I'll have to make a trip to Kentucky. :)
That said, I have to admit that seeing those two little babies and holding them while they slept was a very powerful experience. It's difficult to explain how amazing it is to me that these children are in fact my little brother's and that they are going to grow up as we grow old. This isn't the first time I've been around babies, The Chancellor has two little girls I've known since birth, but this is the first time I have ever been a real uncle. Spending hours around the twins, I came to really understand what it means to be connected to family.
At only 3 months old, they are both totally helpless and dependent, but at the same time, they are already developing individual personalities. Seeing and holding such harmless innocence in my own arms was a powerful experience, since for the first time they were related to me by blood. In that instant, looking into their smiling faces, watching them doze off in my arms, there was no arguing against the presence of good in this world. Babies truly are amazing to behold. The world is new and strange to them, and by being in their presence, a part of us is reminded that there was a time when history, circumstance, and predisposition did not distort our perceptions. At one point in our lives, our vision is pure and we are truly unburdened.
It was a great seeing Scott, his lovely bride, and the rest of the fam, but the highlight was obviously seeing the twins. In a lot of ways, seeing them and being amidst all the activity surrounding their baptism was exactly what I needed right now. There's good out there after all...sometimes we all need to be reminded.
Update: Added a couple of pics proving that I am capable of holding babies without breaking them. The motherly instinct is strong in me! Goddamn I'm skinny and pale...I look like the ghost of Frankenstein in these pics. It's kind of surprising that the babies weren't howling in terror! lol 
Labels: the twins
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Maybe I should forget the Harley
and get myself a Porsche instead.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Fear of the unknown
I scheduled my H-D New Rider course yesterday! :) April 11-15th, I will be receiving 25 total hours of motorcycle rider training through H-D of Tampa and Brandon. Assuming I pass, I will come out of the class with my waiver, so that I will only be a car ride to the DMV away from being a licensed rider. This means that I could potentially be the owner of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle by mid-to-late April. The thought has me totally stoked, but I have to admit that I'm a little nervous as well.
Fear of the unknown is a bitch and a whore! On the one hand, I KNOW that I am capable of learning to ride effectively and safely, but on the other, I won't really know until I saddle up and do it. I hate failing at anything, so I get anxious the first time trying things on this level. Sometimes this works in my favor, because that anxiety heightens my awareness and I'm sharper, more in the moment. Other times, I totally blow it, because I get distracted, think too much, and make mistakes. Hopefully, this will be an experience of the former, rather than the latter.
Thankfully, the Buell Blast (the cycle provided by Harley-Davidson for the duration of the course) is the lightest, easiest bike to ride in Harley's entire product line. While it's a far cry from the Deuce cruiser I want to buy (the Blast is 300 pounds lighter and has 1/3 the horsepower), it should serve as the perfect platform for learning to handle a bike. It's their entry-level bike, complete with banana seat, but at just under 400lbs wet, I would be able to manage it without too much effort. My dad's Sportster is a little over 100lbs heavier, but didn't feel very intimidating. Admittedly, all I've had a chance to do is work the clutch, brakes, get the bike up to about 25mph, and walk the bike around on the clutch a bit. Not bad for an half hour, but not really worth talking about, either.
The good thing about the big bike is that it will be very well balanced, have a lower center of gravity, and will ride more like a Cadillac than a Porsche, so it should be a lot less twitchy. With that comes a certain lack of agility, but for my purposes, it should not be a big issue. I already have some ideas in mind for some motorcycle trips. Hopefully Scott will get himself a bike and we can do some riding with pops in the months/years to come.
Labels: motorcycles
Monday, March 19, 2007
Uncle Erik meets the twins
I finally had a chance to meet the twins on Sunday and they are easily the cutest babies I've ever seen in my life! lol Evelyn spent a large part of the time sleeping, while Ava refused to sleep at all. Ava was swimming in place almost the entire time, rarely stopping to doze or cry. When Evelyn was awake, she would make these faces that are irresistibly cute. She smiles a lot and coos once in a while. Ava didn't smile as much, but she coos constantly and was more active. They'd both had their first innoculations earlier in the week, so that probably explains Evelyn's sleepiness.
The funniest part is their shared fascination with the ceiling. Something about the lights and darks of the SIL's parent's house mystified both of them, as they would stare and stare. It was just amazing to me that they were actually my brother's daughters and thereby, my nieces. Sitting there, holding each of them, I couldn't help to think about what's to come for both of them. They'll be walking within a year, talking a year or so later. Then they'll move up to pre-school, kindergarten, middle school, high school, college(!!)...it's surreal! But it's also totally awesome. :)
And the best part is, they'll have each other. The bond between twins is one of those things that only twins can ever truly know. It will be a trip to see how they grow and learn together. Little Brother and the SIL are already fully functional parents, right down to baby feeding-sleeping-cleaning routines and bottle cleaning duties. Here I am, renting a room from the 'rents, talking about buying a motorcycle and going to school. Little Brother is really Big Brother...I'm only chronologically older. lol
Labels: the twins
Friday, March 16, 2007
Here's the story behind the housing situation
So here's the long story on my living situation. There is a reasoned purpose behind why I live the way I do. I haven't always rented from the 'rents, but I have had my parents as landlords for a LOT longer than I originally intended. Here's why:
When I moved back home, I had lived with my little brother and the woman who would one day become The SIL for a couple of years. I was broke and disenchanted with most of my existence. I went back to get my shit together and put things back on track. At that point, I had quit school, not that I ever took school seriously to begin with, so the idea was to move back, get my life in order, and get back out into the wild as soon as possible. My intention was to buy a condo or small house somewhere in Pinellas County, if possible. Toward that end, I changed jobs, got out of my leased Honda and into a WRX, and started looking around at houses.
Needless to say, I didn't buy one. After a year or so of looking at options, bouncing around and waffling on the idea, I set my mind to paying off the car, climbing the ladder at work, and buying something better when the money came available. This was about the time that housing values started exploding locally. Within a year, houses that had been selling for $100,000 were now bringing prices of $125,000-130,000. At the same time, Pinellas County's property taxes started increasing and insurance rates began a slow ascent what would accelerate with time.
In the meantime, I paid the car off in exactly four years, eliminated all of my debts, and watched disheartened as the housing market literally rocketed out of control. Houses that once sold for $130,000 were now selling for $180,000 and up. Hurricanes rolled through the state and took insurance prices into the stratosphere. At the same time, property taxes and utilities became more expensive in both Pinellas and Pasco counties. My salary was increasing, but not fast enough, and my relationship situation made where I lived irrelevant, as I wasn't serious with anyone at the time, so I was not feeling much pressure to jump into the melee.
There was one house that I actually wanted to buy pretty badly, as it would have made a nice, long-term investment. It was a 2 bed/2 bath with a pool just up the block from my parents' house. It would have been perfect, as my family had known the original owners for decades, it was relatively small, had a garage, and the entire house was in immaculate condition. The owner was a widow (whose story I have written about here or on one of my other blogs…can’t remember) and she was asking $205,000, which wasn't out of the question, given the market value of homes over the past 6 months. I could afford the payments, the location would have been perfect, and I started investigating what would be involved in making the purchase. My credit score was very high, so financing wasn’t an issue. My salary was adequate, particularly since I carried no debt to speak of. Things looked pretty good…for a while.
As always, there was a catch. Insurance was going to be over $2000/year, assuming I could find an insurer that would take me on as a client. Property tax was going to run in the $1400-1600/year range. Start adding those figures to a $1000/month mortgage payment, and one thing became utterly clear, it was time to get back in school. This was all going down in the mid-2006 timeframe, so the housing market hadn't yet collapsed, but the correction had begun. Her house would have sold in a few days only one year before, but it languished on the market for months last year. She ended up selling for to a real estate broker for $193,000, which was probably fair market value at the time. Interestingly, the house would bring around $185,000 in the current marketplace. It will eventually rebound, but it could take years, given current economic realities, and the decline in value probably hasn’t ended yet, as sub-prime borrowers are defaulting on their loans and flooding the market with homes, which can only push market values down further. Houses sit for months or even close a year now…if you’re a buyer, things look good. If you’re a seller, it’s a shitty situation.
Which is to say, if I had bought a house 2 years ago, I would probably be negative ~$15k or so, which is roughly what I've gained from my 401k and stock holdings (combined) over the same period. At this stage in the game, I'm earning money toward my retirement, nearly debt free, and in the black across the board. I could own a house, and do none of the things I enjoy, but I choose to sacrifice my image as a guy who can "hold his own" in order to do the things that bring some happiness to my life. I do my own laundry, make my own meals, pay my own bills, and help around the house when I can. My situation is much more like a tenant than people would believe.
The funny part is, I could afford to buy the motorcycle AND get a small place of my own, but the net benefit would be what? I'd be living paycheck to paycheck, miserable (because honestly, the thought of owning/renting a condo does not excite me), and still looking for a needle in a stack of needles, where women are concerned. I could probably get more random ass, but then random ass isn't what I'm after...never has been. Some people enjoy owning/maintaining a home, I understand this, but I'm not one of those people, so going through all that hardship just isn’t worth it.
So that's the story. When the time is right, I'll buy something and get myself saddled with a mortgage just like every middle class schlep is supposed to. Until then, I will pay my rent and live with the "shame". Women will continue to pursue "better" men, and I'll keep fighting my good fight. If that makes me less of man in some females' eyes, so be it. I bring a lot more to the table than my place of residence and eventually someone will be alright with that. If not, fuck 'em, I’ll just keep doing my own thing anyway. :)
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Internet dating?
Internet Dating?
Why not? In the end, I'm exactly the sort of person they are marketing to. I don't have time to network and meet people with any kind of regularity, I'm wanting to get back in the game, and the stigma that surrounds interweb matchmaking is being lifted by the mainstreaming of sites like eHarmony and Match. The fact is, I haven't dated anyone in nearly a year, and my schedule makes meeting someone incredibly difficult. Even when I do go out, meeting the kind of girl I am looking for at a bar or by random chance is an extraordinary long shot. School is great, but the ladies are part of the wrong(older) demographic. The gym I go to is essentially a dead zone, because it's expensive and nothing like a meet market. Besides that, there's no good way to approach someone under those circumstances without feeling like you are interrupting or intruding. And work...work makes me miserable, so I'm not in a good mood to begin with, and ultimately, there aren't many young, eligible, available, interesting women there.
There have to be other good people in my situation, and there's really no easy way of finding them, so why not get more proactive, rather than leaving my life in the hands of fate? Sitting back and hoping chance will help me out has left me on the outside looking in for far too long. The few opportunities life has thrown me have gone nowhere or ended in heartache. I'm beginning to think that sitting back and waiting is a serious, if not catastrophic mistake.
Seriously, how many tall, athletic, (stunningly) handsome, honest, intelligent, forthright, artistic, gainfully employed, college educated, low mileage, relationship-oriented guys are walking this Earth? Top that off with a cool car and the fact that I am soon to be a motorcycle rider and I've got to ask, WTF is wrong with modern women?? lol I haven't ever met another guy like me, so there can't be many of us running around. You know what, women should be chasing ME! With all the cowardly, game playing, bullshit artists running around, one would think a little honesty would serve as a revelation. A good guy who isn't a spineless "nice" guy should be in high demand in a place full of doormats. In the end, perhaps it will be my ego that saves me.
Some might argue that the internet dating scene is somehow pathetic, but it is certainly not any less pathetic than the bar/club scene, and it is much more empowering than hoping for a random meeting. The odds are getting longer every day, and at this point, just getting back out into the scene would be a relief. Seriously, isn't it MORE pathetic to hope that chance will bring someone interesting your way? I'm beginning to think so. We'll see...
As an added bonus, I can give any interesting ladies this URL and tell them to get reading, since my brain is more or less spilled out in text here. Of course, that could backfire on me and scare them all away. lol
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I think something just snapped into place for me
I guess you could say I've been walking around with a psychological limp for a while. Given my abnormally light history, last year was a difficult one for me. For the first time I became deeply enamored with a girl and things went on a whole other level for me emotionally. The girl wasn't in the same place, and things unraveled in a hurry. When the dust settled, I was left wondering what had happened and sort of floated for a while. She moved on to another guy, and the rest of the story has been chronicled here ad nauseum.
The whole experience left me feeling like I had been beaten up. I realize that I'm a guy and that my supposed role in this world is to fuck, fuck some more, and keep fucking until some girl wraps my heart in her bosom and shows me the error of my ways, or I knock someone up. But that's not how the story has gone and while I've been lamenting the end of my 20s, I've lost sight of the fact that I am still something of a rarity in this world. I forgot to let myself be proud of actually caring for the ex last year, despite what she may or may not have felt for me. Does caring make me a sucker? That probably depends on who you ask, or what kind of mood I am in, were you to ask me. I can't say I'm ashamed of how I handled the situation, the episode in August not withstanding. The girl in question probably won't ever understand, or even care, how I felt about her, but I'm not sure I have a big problem with that. For the most part, I did the right things, even as the relationship was rapidly unraveling. I did what I had to do, even if a part of me wanted to do something else. That's not something every person does.
I didn't let my fear of being alone again stop me from making a very difficult decision. For months I struggled to get myself back on track, then took a huge stumble, which meant that I had to start over again from the beginning. But I pushed through, eventually finding a way to put some of that mournful energy to good use in returning to school. It hasn't all been fun, but then life rarely is. Six months later, and I find myself in a crisis-of-yearning, but I think that fever may have broken as well, or at least I may have regained some perspective.
Life alone cannot match what it feels like to care about someone in an intimate relationship, there's no denying that, but we cannot let the yearning overcome our senses and lead us into a poorly thought out series of actions. Where the yearning makes our hearts ache in an ebb and flow that is as mysterious as it is persistent, actions have a way of haunting our minds for months or even years. Yearning tugs at our thoughts and emotions, but it is temporary and manageable. Actions may only last minutes, but their residue can stay with us forever. All obvious stuff, but sometimes it helps to write things out. The pain of yearning is worth experiencing, as it reminds us that we are human and that we still believe in love. A couple of recent conversations have reminded me that believing in love is not a foolish thing, particularly in a world so short on it. Going without is hard on the mind, body, and soul, but this suffering should develop a higher appreciation for what love really is, and thereby heighten the experience of it, when we find it again.
And I will find it, for some reason I feel sure of it. I have not known it well and have only been able to enjoy it for an instant in this life, but so long as I am still breathing, there is a chance to be immersed in it again. Perhaps next time it won't be so fleeting. Hopefully it will be mutual. If nothing else, I hope it will be healthier and happier than anything I have known to date. I'm just relieved to have been reminded that there will be a next time...
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
I'm on a (pessimistic) role
We live in a world where the corpse of a baby is found on a roadside in a gym bag. We live in a world where little girls are raped, murdered, and buried behind houses. Our species makes war voluntarily and considers a few thousand collateral deaths as being acceptable. Love is a sarcastic witticism and unity nothing more than a dreamer's myth.
Our collective history is one dominated by destruction and exploitation on a massive scale, all of it fueled by greed and materialism. And certainly, this destruction has led to great feats of creation, but these creative movements eventually fell prey to the same human nature that created them. All of our great empires have risen and collapsed on the back of materialism. It is within our power to live as agrarian societies, taking just enough to survive and replacing what we consume with renewable resources, but we haven't had that sort of coexistence with nature in thousands of years. We made a choice to seek and acquire more than we need, and we never looked back. Take me, for instance. I have no NEED for a modified car, and surely have no NEED for a Harley-Davidson, but I desire both. I could be more generous with my time and money. I could try to be more sympathetic and understanding. We could all do more of these things, but we don't, and we won't. On some level, we are driven to acquire, gather, and collect. Some of us are more subject to the drive than others, but it is in us all. I fully recognize the empty, purposeless nature of material things. Beyond our basic needs, the only value assigned to things is purely a product of our imagination. I could drive basic transport, but I instead modify the bejesus out of my car. I could pick up a 250cc scooter and get around town just fine, but I'm going to buy a 1600cc Harley-Davidson. In both instances, my justifications are emotional, not rational. I like machines and I like for my machines to say something along the lines of "fuck you and fuck what you think".
We do not operate rationally. A rational animal does not buy things it does not need. A rational animal does not want for things that do not meet its basic life requirements. As a species, we are motivated, moved, impassioned, and destroyed by our emotions. Our species is governed not by reason, but by emotional drives and biological urges. While we have the ability to reason, we are still too primitive, in a biophysical sense, to override our basal urges under all circumstances. As a result, we seek out emotional gratification through external objects and activities. Between biology and emotion, our reasoning engine is often overwhelmed and pushed aside. Obviously, this leads to trouble.
Hatred, a byproduct of anger, insecurity, and a host of other emotions/feelings, has given us countless wars, the Holocaust, racism, sexism, etc, etc, etc. Greed, a byproduct of insecurity, fear, and so on, has given us opressive empires, a wealthy superminority, and a history of exploitation. The list can go on and on. And I am aware that there is good in this world, but I believe that anyone with any sense knows that real good, meaning real work toward a better tomorrow, is not being done by many. How many people are working toward making a real difference with their lives? How many people are looking 10, 50, or 100 years down the road and trying to do what they can to leave a positive legacy with their lives? Not many I know. I'm not even sure I'm genuinely working toward that end, and I know that I am not doing enough.
In short, I believe we're fucked until evolution does us the favor of raising the human animal's core capacity for reasoned response, or lowering the biological/irrational pressures brought to bear against our rational minds. Will we last long enough for any of that to happen? That's anyone's guess, but given our history of monumental conflict and periods of massive kill-off, I would rate our odds as being pretty long.
All of this reminds me of a favorite Tool song that I first heard when I was 17 or 18. It immediately resonated with me, and has remained one of my favorites ever since. And it goes a little somethin' like this:
Some say the end is near
Some say we'll see armageddon soon
I certainly hope we will
I sure could use a vacation from
this bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks
here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA (FLA?)
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away
Any fucking time
Any fucking day
Learn to swim
I'll see you down in Arizona(Tampa?) bay
Fret for your figure
and Fret for your latte
and Fret for your hairpiece
and Fret for your lawsuit
and Fret for your prozac
and Fret for your pilot
and Fret for your contract
and Fret for your car
It's a bullshit three ring circus sideshow of freaks
here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away
Any fucking time
Any fucking day
Learn to swim
I'll see you down in Arizona bay
Some say a comet will fall from the sky
Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves
Followed by faultlines that cannot sit still
Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits
Some say the end is near
Some say we'll see armageddon soon
I certainly hope we will
cuz I sure could use a vacation from this Silly shit, stupid shit...
One great big festering neon distraction
I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied
Learn to swim
Mom's gonna fix it all soon
Mom's comin' round to put it back the way it ought to be
Learn to swim
Fuck L Ron Hubbard and Fuck all his clones
Fuck all those gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes
Learn to swim
Fuck retro anything
Fuck your tattoos
Fuck all you junkies and Fuck your short memory
Learn to swim
Fuck smiley glad-hands with hidden agendas
Fuck these dysfunctional, insecure actresses
Learn to swim
Cuz I'm praying for rain
and I'm praying for tidal waves
I wanna see the ground give way
I wanna watch it all go down
Mom please flush it all away
I wanna watch it go right in and down
I wanna watch it go right in
Watch you flush it all away
Time to bring it down again
Don't just call me pessimist
Try and read between the lines
I can't imagine why you wouldn't welcome any change, my friend
I wanna see it all come down
Suck it down
Flush it down
Labels: life
Monday, March 12, 2007
Life's a beach
Couldn't this be Hell? In some ways, it is hard to imagine how Hell could be any harder on a soul than this modern world. Think about it. Your soul, or spirit, or life energy, is encapsulated (imprisoned?) in a casing made of fragile bits and pieces, all of which will eventually fail. Having been placed in this body, the soul/spirit/etc is confronted with the temporary nature of physical existence. We are all born to die, after all. So we should be able to take solace in the fact that this limited ride is only temporary, right?
Of course not, because the mind is always reminding us of our finite, physical existence. Some of us worry at the implications of limited life experience and "live as if there is no tomorrow". Others ignore the fact and act is if they will live forever. A rare few will find comfort in faith and embrace the idea of an eternal spirit, thereby trumping the mind's constant insistence that its end will be the end of everything. To overcome the incessant nature of death anxiety, most people seem to find some form of faith, eventually.
So the temporary nature of physical existence causes most of us stress at one point or another. Compounding this anxiety is the knowledge that this ride will not only be short, but will also be full of unpleasantness. From personal trials and tribulations, to the prices paid for living in a chaotic and violent world, the troubles of material existence are unavoidable if one is to exist honestly. As a result, the soul is exposed to innumerable examples of physical ugliness. If we are fortunate, these unpleasant experiences are counterbalanced by examples of beauty and goodness, so that we can develop a more level perspective.
Isn't the mind's fear of death and the duplicitous nature of humanity enough torture for an healthy soul? If the soul is our link to the eternal beauty of metaphysical existence, how could it NOT be suffering while it is forced to deal with the pain humans bring upon one another in the name of selfishness or hatred? Every act of ugliness has to wound the soul in some fashion, as each act is a strike against the beauty from which our spirits are drawn. I'm not talking about sinning or sins against some god here; I'm talking about sins against ourselves, and the beating beauty takes in this world. In a world where beauty is constantly trying to be claimed, exploited, or marginalized, the spirit is bound to take a pounding.
Just some thoughts I had while at work this morning.
Speaking of beauty, I managed to get out on the beach for the first time this season Saturday afternoon. The weather was utterly gorgeous! The sun was up, but not too strong, a steady sea breeze was rolling in off the gulf, and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. It was one of those postcard days that make living here worth the strain. I swung by to pick up D, my BB 'little', and we decided to meet Bryan and Anne at the pet beach, since they were headed there with their lab pup Cody.
D's mom is beach averse, so the poor kid has not had many opportunities to partake in Florida's greatest asset. What could be more tragic than growing up in Florida and NOT hitting the beach at least semi-regularly?? I will definitely have to help the little dude out on that front.
It's fun to watch kids at the beach, because you realize that they are having an entirely different experience than you are as an adult. When he wasn't getting dragged around by Cody, D was chasing minnows and investigating the aquatic wildlife swimming around in the tide pools. Good times.
Labels: beach, life, spirituality
Saturday, March 10, 2007
And that's enough of the whining
So I'm lonely, frustrated, and stressed...when I put life in those simple terms, I see that I am no different than a million other poor bastards out there. Therefore, the whining has to stop and it has to stop now.
In the spirit of my return to functionality, I wanted to write a little about art. Art, in the form of 2D drawing, painting, etc, has been a part of my life since I was 5 or 6 years old. I started like most artists do, with poorly drawn stick figures depicting my family and friends. It wasn't long before I started dabbling in tanks, airplanes, and soldiers, then cars, buildings, so on and so forth. By the time I reached middle school, my artistic energies were devoted primarily to cartooning, with a focus on comic book characters and movie monsters.
Drawing was little more than a pastime for me through high school. I was arguably "talented", though probably not gifted. Creating became something I did instead of taking notes in class or finishing homework at home, but it wasn't my focus. I would draw in the afternoons while waiting to play football, or on weekends when no one else was available. The problem may have been that it came easily to me, so I didn't see the challenges and let my attention wander, or perhaps I took it for granted and neglected my own development. Whatever the case, when it came time to graduate high school, I found myself with a fairly weak portfolio, a pessimistic attitude toward my work, and a dwindling desire to do much of anything but sit as a passenger and let life take me where it willed.
I put art down almost completely at that point. After Christmas-treeing the math section of my SAT, I decided to apply to UF for shits and giggles as much as anything else. Maybe I wanted to pretend I had further ambitions beyond high school and Junior College...at this point, I'm no longer sure. There really wasn't any purpose in my applying, as UF's art program was nothing compared to Ringling's or even Eckerd's, both of which are closer to home. Those schools are private, and therefore very expensive. They are also highly selective, as their student bodies are historically very small. I saw no hope of getting into either one of them, given my weak portfolio, so I refused to even submit an application. It was no great surprise that UF denied my request for entry. My SAT was awful (around 1100, if memory serves), though I did manage a 29 or something similar on my ACT. I had no volunteer time on my resume, no real desire to actually attend the school, and no self-confidence to speak of. Going to UF would have been a disaster and it is probably best that I was not deemed worthy of attending the institution.
Fast forward 10 years and things had changed drastically. Art was still not a focus, but I had learned to have a much higher appreciation for what it meant to have creative ability. I had studied the greats of the Renaissance and Baroque, being held in awe by the marvels of Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Bernini, and Bosch. I came to love Rembrandt, Dali, and lesser known commercial artists like Boris Vallejo, Micheal Whelan, and Luis Royo. My eyes were opened to the fact that the arts and the creative process were the true measures of civilization. How many people will remember Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods 500 years from now? How many will know Michelangelo and Da Vinci, or Mozart and Beethoven, or even Aristotle and Homer? Leading the NBA in career scoring and having a shoe line named after you is nothing compared to creating the Sistine Chapel ceiling frescoes, or composing Beethoven's Fifth.
Our modern heroes are nothing but entertainers. What historical significance does Tiger Woods winning another PGA tour event really have? What commentary will his career make, beyond serving as a chronicle of the sociological ridiculousness in paying a man millions of dollars to play a game no more dangerous than strolling through a park? Some would say that perfecting the techniques of his game is an art form in and of itself, and there's certainly some merit in the idea, but winning a game is not the same as actually creating something tangible. In the end, I have more respect for the craftsman than the entertainer.
Art is something different, in that it is something which has been a part of our species since before time was time. Great music, paintings, sculptures, architecture, etc, stand the test of eons. The Great Wall, Egypt's pyramids, the Sistine Chapel, the architecture of Ancient Greece and Rome - these are all artistic creations that serve as historical benchmarks. As these thoughts formulated and settled in my mind, I came to realize how important my old pastime really was in the scope of human history. While I cannot claim to be on the level of history's greats, I do have a connection, in that I too can create. That is not something to be taken lightly and most definitely not something to be neglected.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
The road to transcendence
Is paved in struggle, stumbles, falls, and scrapes. The journey is not ever an easy one and the way is not ever clear. In seeking, we are blind and clumsy from the very beginning. Even when we believe that our concept of the way forward is, at the very least, clearer than it once was, we still cannot be sure that our direction of travel is going to take us anywhere at all. Our only choice is to do our best and proceed on faith.
But what if faith falters? What do we do in those moments when our faith in the fates, the great spirit, or God begin to be battered by worries, questions, and time? Keeping the faith and not falling into despair can be a monumentally difficult task. We begin questioning ourselves, lamenting our circumstances, and faltering in our commitment to happiness. We lose sight of the possible and begin to focus on the failed, the regretted, and the missed opportunities. Our only choice under such pressures is to find a path back to ourselves, back to our vision and our aspirations.
I have lost some faith of late. The questions have begun to outnumber the assurances and the cold nature of reality has begun to send a chill down my spine. I've become acutely aware of my loneliness and in so doing have come to feel more alien than ever before. In this place, I cannot find someone who can truly relate to my situation, because people like me seem to be incredibly rare. I have tried to find people who think like I think, and behave as I behave, but I have not found one to date, and it worries me. It worries me because being out on a branch by yourself can be an incredibly lonely experience.
It's difficult to relate to others, because it is nearly impossible for me to make people understand how I see the world. I know that everyone has a 'unique' story, but mine seems to be on altogether different. To date, I have not ever met, or even heard of, anyone who has lived a similar experience. While I embrace that uniqueness and appreciate the perspective living this life has given me, I cannot always find comfort in it, so there are times when the price that has to be paid for being different becomes slightly more painful to pay.
If living life is the summation of a journey, rather than a predefined destination, how does one go about making the trek alone? In a place as sick as this one, where do we find the motivation to continue interacting at all? How do we overcome the paradox of hoping to find love in a world that has made such a mockery of the concept? No one seems to have any aspirations of redfining what it means to be alive, or in love. The world settles, takes what it can get, and looks at compromise as some sort of sacrificial rite. But compromise handicaps the vision and dilutes its purity. Compromise takes our ideals and stains them, to the point that they are tarnished beyond recognition. Where life, love, and transcendence are concerned, what good comes of compromise? What use is settling? While it is painful, it is better to go without and to be totally alien, than to compromise and lose any hope of finding what we hope for, or dream of.
Labels: life, spirituality
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Finally, some positive/non-emo thoughts
Found out that I officially picked up another "A", this time in my Principles of Marketing class. I didn't quite get maximum points, but I was within spitting distance. It was a ton of work, but the instructor was excellent and the class really was a learning experience. I enjoyed it enough to consider a job in marketing, which is something new for me. So far, so good, as far as the grades are concerned. I'm stoked that I've been able to keep my GPA where it is, but I'm worried, as this is only the 20% point toward completion in my degrees. There is still a long, long road to go. Can I keep it up, I think so. I'm really looking forward to finding out. :)
Labels: school
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Maybe I should drink more
Maybe I should solve my thinking-too-much and sexing-too-little problem the old fashioned way...getting totally shit-faced hammered! What could possibly go wrong?
Labels: drinking, funny times, video
Monday, March 05, 2007
I have to admit
I miss sex in a bad way. It's been a while since I had any, and even longer since I had any that was healthy and happy, which is really what I'm after. For a while, I was intentionally abstaining, primarily because last year had been such a bad one for me, I was not in the mood to think about it. As time has gone by, my head has come back around to the fact that I really miss everything involved with intimacy. I miss all the subtle levels of contact that make the physical experience such a fantastic compliment to the emotional and cerebral ones.
Sex is natural and pleasurable and spiritual for me. I like it, a lot. There really isn't anything about sex with someone I care for that doesn't please me on every level, right down to my soul. It's not the purpose of life and it isn't love, but it is, or at least can be, a beautiful part of both.
So what's the problem? After all, we live in a place where getting laid is easier than finding a real relationship. People throw sex away like it's a disposable cell phone. That IS the whole point of modern "enlightenment", to make sex the equivalent of a particularly enjoyable hobby. Love is for old people and fools. Maybe the marketing agencies and the elite sheeple are right.
Then I start asking myself questions like, "Do I really want to look back on my life and see a couple dozen(or more) meaningless faces, all of whom knew me in the most intimate way possible for one night or a few fuckbuddy hookups?" Fuck no, because nothing empties someone out more than turning the most intimate and physically pleasurable experience two people can share into something mundane or meaningless.
The point is, I have a dilemma. I am the type of guy who does not want to have sex outside of a relationship with someone I care deeply about, but I am tired of waiting. I've spent most of my life patiently waiting, staying disciplined and dedicated. I never once asked to get laid. But I've found that Fate is a fickle bitch with a bad sense of humor. I see Fate as the metaphysical equivalent of Ann Coulter, right down to the boney legs, knobby knees, and lifeless eyes. Fate makes a game of us, and all we can do is fight back with everything we have, which I do constantly, but we do so knowing that the struggle is ultimately one of princicples, and thereby utterly futile.
In a world where lying fucktards, sociopathic shitbricks, and even spineless cowards get laid regularly, I willfully refrain, continually hoping for a nod from the karmic regulatory agency for the effort. And I wait...and wait...and wait. Meanwhile, my fellow males pursue, coax, and conquer random ass on a nightly basis, some of them corraling multiple asses in a single night out. These men are hardly men at all by my estimation, but then that all depends on one's perspective. I have always been fine with lagging behind them in quantity, since it was inevitable, given my mindset and direction. Sleeping with a hundred whores does not make you a hero in my eyes. Anyone can sleep with a slut, there's really nothing to be proud of in it.
Being proud of sleeping with an easy woman is like being proud of peeing in a toilet bowl. Congratulations asshole, you've managed to do what countless others have done before you! Here's your ticket to Disney World and directions to the nearest STD clinic!
The problem is, every hetero guy I know is subject to the drive. Really, any human with a healthy outlook will be subject to their biological drives on some level. We are animals, social animals, and we will crave contact. There is nothing we can do about this. The root of my frustration is really in having to check that drive all the time, while so many people in this fucked up world are screwing like dogs amidst the dumpsters in Ybor's alleyways.
In a world where cheap and easy is the road to Valhalla, I really do enjoy sophisticated and complex, but the clock is ticking, I'm weary from fasting, and this place is not getting any less demoralizing. At the pace I have set in this life to date, I will be near retirement and completely dependent on Viagra the next time I get a shot at experiencing intimacy with someone I'm emotionally connected with. How the fuck does that happen?!?!
I keep asking myself, "What should you be doing?" The only answer I can come up with is "being yourself", and I hit one of those nasty, moral/spiritual road blocks. Being me in this world means going without, walking alone, and doing what I can to stay out of the herd. Why the fuck does getting laid have to be so goddamned easy, while finding a real, healthy relationship is so fucking hard?!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HUMANITY!!
Shouldn't we all be asking?
And there you have it, a taste of what is circling in my brain constantly of late. Fun, right? lol I've said it before and I will say it again, manwhores are the smarter, wiser, better men...they are the enlightened ones. They will bang a hundred women and be forgiven for it, if they play their cards right. Having your cake and eating it too...isn't that the dream?
Sunday, March 04, 2007
First "ride"
Well, it finally happened...I popped my motorcycling cherry. Spent about 30 minutes getting the feel of the weight, walking the bike on the clutch, then doing first gear rides up and down the cul-de-sac. Never got above 20mph, but it felt much faster. I was so tense that I had to stop after 30 minutes, because my shoulders were starting to fix themselves in a locked-tense position. lol
I will be signing up for the motorcycle safety foundation courses ASAP. :)
Labels: life, motorcycles
Saturday, March 03, 2007
My life as a social retard
I'm not normal, that much I'm sure of. If you know me, you know that I say the word "normal" with more than just a little contempt. After all, "it's just a nice way of saying average". So then, I am abnormal...above average in some ways, behind the curve in others, weird by most peoples' estimations. I'm fine with it, wear it as a badge of honor, but I'm finally beginning to understand its origins a bit better. It all started with extreme insecurity...
There was a time when I spent a majority of my waking hours worrying about what other people thought, what other people were doing, and how they perceived me. I continued to do what I did, which amounted to little more than nothing, but I did it in constant fear of what this person or that person thought of me. The truth is, I saw myself as being inferior to most people in just about every way. I was shorter, chubbier, less interested in random acts of stupidity, and generally a perpetual fringe element in the teenage social circles of my day. Needless to say, I wasn't dating, partying, drinking, or participating in life in general during those formative years. So I didn't get laid, didn't get drunk, didn't get high...I more or less kept my nose clean and tried to do the right things as I understood them.
I was a total dork, but a relatively harmless and quiet one. Things changed drastically as I grew older, but none of that began until I finally came to understand just how full of shit 99% of the world truly is. Anyone with some semblance of intelligence gets there eventually, I suppose.
Anyway, not dating, and not partying ultimately helped keep me from making many of the mistakes my peers were making. I was discovering my spirituality while most of my cohorts were learning how to regret one night stands, cheating on their significant others, puking their guts out, and generally exaggerating the significance of it all in an effort to rise within the pecking order.
As I grew to see the human species for what it is, I started realizing how socially retarded, yet empowered, I really was. Here were my peers, piling on baggage, "living" life to its alleged fullest, when in reality they were utterly failing to meet any of their real needs. They were spiritually vacant, intellectually stunted, and overstimulated. So when I heard people rationalizing their behaviors with phrases like, "we've all been there" or "we've all done that", I started thinking to myself, no we haven't all been there or done that, you dumbfuck sheep. Eventually I started vocalizing these thoughts, and the rest, as they say, is history...or the lack thereof.
Looking back, I can't believe I ever questioned myself. Ten years on, most of those people are no better off in the ways that really mattered than they were then. Few, if any, have made any real progress toward real prosperity. Most of them are working on their first divorce, their first trip to rehab, or their first step toward mediocrity. And that's all fine and good. What really disgusts me is that I ever allowed myself to believe any of my peers actually knew something that I didn't. I was always on the outside looking in. Always the one trying not to fuck up and to avoid trouble. I was that kid hardly anyone would remember or recognize at a class reunion and it killed me then. Only in hindsight did I realize how much of a blessing those years proved to be.
At the time, I was trying to work up the nerve to erase myself from the face of the Earth, because I felt as if my life were somehow less than those lives being lived around me. I am sincerely thankful that I faltered in this, as the world would literally turn upside down for me in my 20s. Sometimes cowardice can be a blessing. The old cliche is true...only in discarding our fear of death can we truly come to embrace life. I'm not 100% there yet, but I am sure as Hell closer now than I was at 19. As I approach 30, I finally understand that the opinion of nearly every human I know means absolutely nothing, so long as I am not harming others, and taking care of myself. Nothing else matters, and accepting that is a lovely piece of freedom.
Labels: life, spirituality
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The thing about someday
Is that it never quite seems to get here. More often than not, the opportunity for "someday" comes and passes without us even realizing it. Before you know it, you're getting old, getting tired, and losing faith in someday. I've spent many a day dreaming about someday, and I'm not sure the idea is much of a comfort at this age. We live in a world where Anna Nicole Smith makes perfect sense. I want a place where women like Audrey Hepburn roam city streets and suburban sidewalks. Someday has a way of wearing us down. It digs into our optimism like a maggot, embedding itself just beneath the surface where it festers and squirms. The idea that someday things will be this, or someday they will be that, becomes less of a call to faith and more a carrot suspended before the horse.
We are inspired by those whose someday became today and we all recognize that such prosperity is achievable, but we cannot ever be certain we will be one of the ones to prosper. So it is that I am unsure these days. In fact, I'm no longer certain what prosperity even means. Material wealth is a non-starter...it's just not worth the time and energy expenditure. I like to say that I am aspiring to transcendence, but such a thing is so abstract that it is essentially impossible to quantify. And getting there, for feck's sake, how does one get there directly? The road is a winding, overgrown, hazardous mess shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. There are no maps available to us that have not been tainted by the hands of Man, so we're left with little more than imperfect directions scribbled down by hairless monkeys. Our most popular cartographers believed the world was flat and that the sun orbited Earth.
The bottom line is that I'm tired of being confined by time.
I want to be put in stasis and left there for a while...I'm so tired of thinking about someday and possibilities, especially given the fatiguing nature of the here and now. There has to be a place for people like me. I want to wander out where the sheep dare not roam, where my ideas aren't strange or unrealistic, and where I can get away from all the social programming that tugs at my mind. I want to make someday today, and I want to experience it with my eyes opened wide to its wonders. This place has so little to offer in the way of things that interest me, it makes someday feel akin to never.
I stopped left most of my materialistic aspirations behind years ago. Those things are like dog toys and have nothing to do with a real someday. What I want are those things that really matter, those things that lift our souls to freedom, and free us of our physical limitations. That is a someday worth dreaming of, even if it is the least likely to be achieved. If I don't get there, I hope you do.
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear
- Emily Dickinson
Labels: life, spirituality, whining