Thoughts swirl endlessly in my head as I sit. That is the function of the mind is it not? Just as it is a function of the ocean to swirl and make waves and turn. Although we know that the moon's gravity causes those waves, we can not be so sure as to what makes our mind turn and toss, other than that is just what it does. The moon is the endless muse to the ocean, which is in turn a poet to the earth. I think and I feel, my consciousness, or mind, or soul, or whatever it is. It's always there, moving and flowing. The magic of the moonlight is always basking us in it's beauty. It is just hard to see with the sun shining. If only there were some way that I could remind myself that it is always there, showering me in it's love and light. Soaking the ocean of my mind with its magic. I wonder if I sat about to create an atmosphere every time I wanted to write, would I be better for it? If I could re-arrange my mind with that wonderful magic fresh in my head. It's like sitting in an alley, looking up at the rainclouds as I did today in a fashion. The "alley" ( a little space in between the fence and the window in the backyard). The alley was there before I sat in it and the clouds were over my head long before I looked up at them.
Magic is all around you, always.
You (and I)would do well to remember this.
I feel like I can't help but write lately. It's not a project I need to get done or a habit I'm trying to start. It's like the words are raw electricity and my thoughts are thunderclouds that burst with emotional energy and words are the only conduit I can release them through. I am a man possessed.
Usually this is the time of year that's the hardest for me. I lose the sunshine that makes me smile, and I lose inspiration to do the things that I may not want to do. But just like the sunshine breaks through a crack in the clouds I feel like I'm breaking out of that shell. Every year it's the same more or less, I've got to find hope again and get back to whats important. I forget and re-learn how to love life and see the beauty all around me. I lose sight of that beauty and start to think that it's gone, then at one point or another I take a look around and see that I'm surrounded by love,light, and the powerful beauty of existence.
Life is bursting at the seams with untold beauty and love. I'm not just feeling better, I'm ecstatic and there is magic in every moment again.
I always see films or read books or comics where people are friends for life. From kindergarten or early on to full blow adulthood. Now I consider myself a far cry from an adult at twenty-one years old, but still it makes me ponder.
I've only known Stefan for a few years, about two I think. I'd like to say of that that we are pretty damn tight, I kick it with Stefan on an almost daily basis. Partly because we get so much out of our conversations and analogies of the world around us, and partly because we're bored to all hell and don't really hang out with much of anyone else. I have a lot of people who I could see and talk to and say, "yeah, we're friends". Not close friends or partners or even that we hang out but that we are in good company with each other. Like Mike Abdoo. We've got tons in common, I met the guy in the fourth grade when I moved to Michigan ( so that's about as long as I could have a friend since I left the ones I had in my old neighborhood) we have similar political and social interests, he's a damn good poet and a good man. So why don't I kick it with him more often. True, I try to stay in touch and everything but he lives on the other side of town (not that stefan doesn't) and he works and I'm back to school so we have somewhat conflicting schedules. What I suppose I mean is that it's not so easy to keep in touch with people and hang out. As a matter of fact it gets harder and harder the older I get and the more responsabilities that I have.
So I usually just kick it with Stefan and Marc. Marc being probably the closest thing to a best friend that I could say I have. I can't say whether he'd say the same, and I suppose there's a kind of sadness in that, but alas, what fools we mortals be. As I get older and older it seems that we have less and less in common, but we still maintain strong contact and hang out pretty regularly. Which is crazy because marc doesn't have a phone or the internet. So keeping contact is almost solely marc's responsibility.
Now I've known Marc longer than Stefan, but not near as long as I've known Mike. Marc and I have been fairly tight since fourteen or fifteen when we were both hanging out with Ross all the time. I feel like since then I've changed radically. Mike has changed a ton. However I don't feel like that's so true about Marc and Ross. Sure we've all gotten bigger and taller and have different roles in life now, but I'm talking more along the lines about what we want out of life. Not that that should change whether someone is your friend or not.
I suppose my doubt (if you could call it that) stems from a conversation I had with Marc last night. I was talking to Marc and Stefan about how I wanted to less critical in the future, because I'm very critical, especially when it comes to art. So Marc is telling me how he doesn't consider all film to be art, and I have some trouble seeing it that way so we got deeper into the discussion of what art is.
This is where the proverbial fecal matter makes contact with the occilation unit.
Marc starts saying that he's down with art, but not the abstract because "my little sister could do that". Firstly I'm in shock of some sort, thinking that Marc is channeling some off-color joke from some sitcom. Then he reasserts the idea. This got me kind of flustered. I said, "maybe you should say that's what you see in it, not that it's how it is." Marc then tells me that it's not that he doesn't like it, but that it actually is crap and people who enjoy it are just looking too hard.
This goes on for a few while Marc insists that it's actually rubbish.
"But what about use of space, contrast in color and theme, shape and form?"
"That stuff isn't in there, you just see it because you want to."
I wonder about that guy sometimes. Eventually the argument faded away and we commenced to chill. It just made me wonder a bit. How could a guy as smart as Marc is say something like that? Sometimes Marc's ideas about things like art, human sexuality and society bring up some real solid disagreements between us and it makes me think, "will our contrasts one day outnumber our similarities? And if it does, will that matter, or will we be friends despite it all?" Only time will tell, and as of now, even though some things he says make me want to shake him like a husband shaking a frantic wife in a sitcom, I'm glad to have a friend like Marc.
When I'm alone my mind does wander and gather things from here and yonder
though past and present to collide, it's difficult to choose which side
I'd like to set my mind upon, or let it go and carry on
the duality of me is mirror-split and hard to see
and through the moments of the day, I wonder which of these futures may
grace my time line with delight or more dark tidings, fear and fright
and though I fancy myself a scribe
What I do write, I tend to hide
for futures past have been long gone
I always wonder what went wrong
as to keep me from success so long
and stray from the path that I was on
yet as more focus I apply
my aspirations up and die
to change again for an untold time
to change with abstract reason and rhyme
as interesting as I became
it never got any bills paid
so here I stay and here I sit
and wonder why I haven't quit
as others work and others play
I sit and ponder and waste away
though in my heart I know I may
one day find a path from which I'll never stray
as responsibility and adulthood loom
one day I know that I will bloom
although soul searching has brought some clues
still I sit and pay my dues
and even though my destiny still lurks
I will stand strong and forever search
I always take my new years resolutions seriously. Whether that is more or less serious than I am about any goal, I do not know. I just remember once on a new years eve back when I was a senior in high school, where I made a resolution that I never broke. Now the right side of my brain is telling me that there was nothing special about that day. I was trying vegetarianism for the second time (the first was all of about 4 days, my mom made spaghetti, if I remember right), and I came home from Jay Petrocik's new years party high as hell, and hammered drunk. After I make my way past the puzzle that is my side door, what do I see on the table but some cold-ass leftover frozen appetizers. These little sausage guys wrapped in a flaky crust.
My week or two of vegetarianism was rough to say the least. My entire life up to that point I had little to no use of anything but meat and starches for my main sustanance and I never was very fond of any vegetable particularly. So I broke. I ate all of the little sausage biscuits that had been left out and afterwords, I let out a deep sigh. "They weren't even that good", I thought. Then I thought about the poor pigs and their lives that led to this moment. My face sunk. Still in a drunken stupor, and I said to myself (aloud possibly, it's fuzzy at best) "this is the last meat I ever want to eat, my New year's resolution is to be a vegetarian". I still haven;t broken that resolution. Six months later I "went" vegan, and still haven't looked back. I love my healthy and cruelty-free lifestyle and changing isn't even tempting (it's revolting really, but that's just me).
Now maybe I just really didn't want to eat meat anymore. Maybe I found a new sense of resolve in myself as a maturing person as to not back down to a promise I made myself. Or maybe there really was something more. A kind of magic, possibly innate in the moment, settled long before I crossed it's path. Maybe I made some sort of astral connection to a greater force and sealed off the part of me that ate meat in some sort of unknowing ritual. I still don't know.
One of my resolutions this year was to write more.
The rest are listed below, possibly in order of importance.
1.Be a better Buddhist. Let go of my pain and fear and be more in-tune with my inner buddha-nature.
2.Get a job. I've had several jobs before, but I always have these long stints where I try to start everything in my life over and end up with unemployed periods almost as long as the time when I am employed. My resolution here is to stick with it.
3.Stay in school. Hooboy. That's a dilly of a pickle there. I've been registered to classes at macomb community college for almost two years and I have barely any credits. I don't even know the amount or my gpa. I can barely sit still in class, and being there alone makes my anxiety flip the fuck out. I realize however, that I would have been done by now if I hadn't been so sensitive to my anxiety and depression. That story is for another time though. Let's just say it's go time, and things are going to be different.
4.Get out more. I'm a refugee of my moms basement and I read a lot. Nuff said.
5. (continue to) get in shape. This is a continuation of a resolution I made last year (like marc continuing campaign to play video games ONLY on the highest difficulty). I really hardly gained any weight this year. Gorging on food every 3 hours is tough, but I'll do that someday as well. I started trying to get into weightlifting last winter, with a 4 day a week program with lots of muscle-isolation exercises. A few months and a lot of internet research later I found out about stronglifts 5x5. I feel like a different person. To say I love lift day would be to say flowers like the sun. I'll post my end-of-the-year comparative pictures soon.
Is it more growing up or is there magic in these words?
Maybe the two aren't as dualistic as I suppose they are.
everyones promising a higher form of quality, if you can't bring it honestly then you owe the rest of us an apology
when people try to hate and try to blame the hands of fate, marc and I step right in to litigate,
our brother from another mother wonder twin powers activate