Wild-ish

So it’s been a significant since I’ve posted anything, and I do apologize to my millions of loving fans *laughs maniacally* for said hiatus. What should I post about, hmm? Music? Love? Sadness? I don’t really know. I mean, I don’t have anything really peaking my interest at the moment. I had some weird dreams last night. In one, I was part of an all African American remake of Star Wars, which was pretty cool. In the other one, I was helping my eldest sisters ex-fiance sell drugs. Not entirely sure what either of those mean. Perhaps the Star Wars one means I feel like an alien, floating around in a lonely galaxy, that’s just a little too complicated for my simple nature. I want to take a hike and just be in nature with my guitar and serenade the rocks and cacti and little lizards and assorted bugs. Maybe I’ll talk my grandma into going up to Ruidoso or Cloud Croft. Grandma is cool. She drives super fucking fast, on her Mercedes. Like, 100mph+ on the highway at all times. Plus she really like mountains and cool music and stuff. I’d much rather go up to the mountains with my girlfriend, but oh well. It’d be rad. We’d have a picnic on a cliff, chat, she’d play her ukulele, and I my guitar. We’d probably make out and do all sorts of cute stuff. Watch the birds, look at pretty trees and flowers, conversate about nothing in particular. Still think we should go longboarding together though, especially around Cloud Croft. It’s really mountainous, and the highway is pretty light as far as traffic. I dunno, I’d be horribly sad if she fell through, especially going the fifty or so miles an hour that would probably be reached. That’s what I want to do some day. I want to go somewhere beautiful, I’ll Iceland or New Zealand, and skate the steepest Highway I can find. It’s so exhilarating. That or find a mellow little Hill and play guitar while skating, that’d be cool as heck. Still, I can’t help but imagine her there in everything I do. Let’s go get lost, and find each other. Okay?

Kindness

I really want to write something profound, and meaningful, but for the last half hour, everything i typed has sounded angstful, and mean. Which really bugs me, because i really try my best not to be. I try to be a good person, every day, I try to perform one small act of kindness. Today’s act of kindness, was when i walked down to the motel lobby. An elderly woman was standing behind me, and as soon as I’d poured mine, and turned around and poured hers. Not much, right? But to see the look on her face, it was priceless. That’s the kind of thing that makes my day. Just seeing how happy you can make a person, is a beautiful sight. I’ve never really wanted to get into humanitarian work, but I’ve been seriously considering it lately. I want to make an impact in this world, not on a billion people, not on a million people. Just a handful of changed lives would be worth it to me. I been diagnosed as having a Savior complex. I can see it. I’ve always been one to bite off more than i can chew, especially when it comes to trying to help people. But maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe i can start using it for the right reasons. Not trying to fix other people mental woes, but fixing someones real life, physical problems. I think i want to join the Peace Corps.

Maybe not for my whole life, but at least for a good five to ten years. I want to make a real, honest difference from now on, for people that really need it. That’s what I’m going to do. I honestly hope they send me somewhere incredibly dangerous. Somewhere i have a high risk of death, while still helping. That sounds awful now that i type it out, but it’s the truth. I don’t necessarily want to die, but i just don’t want to be alive anymore, ya feel me? At least if i died doing something honest, and worth while, I’d be memorable. I’ve never been one to want a meaningful life, but rather, a marvelous death. I should have been born a martyr. I want my death to mean something, and affect people in a positive way. I want it to open peoples eyes to the truths of the world. I just need to stop rambling, it’s bugging me. I can’t even form a full thought at the moment. Thus concludes my second ridiculous post of the day. Keep up the good work, my beautiful people.

ReBirth

Oh, how beautiful it would be to die, and know you’ll be born again. To escape this messy, unpredictable, choice filled, human tragedy. To escape that, and be born into a life far more simple, like an ant, or a blade of grass, or something small, and simple, and overall unimportant. Being a blade of grass would be the best possible life, in my opinion. Not a blade on some middle class, suburban lawn, but one far away, in the forest, in a meadow. Not a care in the world. No responsibility, no choices to be made, nothing like that. And being able to help, without having to try. Focused on absorbing water, and nutrients, and making sugar, and absorbing sunlight. And someday, when you’ve grown tall, and as strong as a blade of grass can be, some beautiful creation come wandering by, and eats you. Sounds kind of grim, doesn’t it? Not anymore grim than dying in this life, but grim none the less. But with your death, come the fact that your body, and all the work you’ve put into it, is going to help this creature that’s devoured you. That’s what i want. I want to live my life, knowing exactly why, and knowing exactly how my death will benefit others. I want to give my life to help others, if only by filling their tummy just a little bit. This life is so much harder. Back a number of years ago, when i was still a practicing southern baptist, I’d come to the conclusion, that what we have here on earth is our hell. This is where we are punished, and this is where we pay our penance. Make’s you wonder, what could be next? And why do we need anything other than what we have here? Are we, the humble human, so selfish, and so starving for time, that we’ve created a collective bedtime story, to help us reconcile with the fact that this is all there is? Were we so bad before religion, that we needed a cosmic reason to behave ourselves? My opinion on the bible, and this is not me baiting for a argument, is that it was written about a simple man. A man comparable to Ghandi, or Buddah, but a man. It’s been proven that Christs divinity was a matter of popular vote. Oh well, I’m going to save all that for another post. If anyone has a way to become a blade of grass, please let me know. As always, have a wonderful day, you beautiful people.

Freedom to Roam

I think we all, every last one of us, has a deep, underlying ,urge to explore. That urge to just wander about, without a care in the world, and be free. I personally, crave it. That beautiful feeling to go wherever, whenever, and however, you want, without the chains of responsibility, or doing the smart thing, holding you to any one place in particular. It’s a scary feeling when it happens though, isn’t it? Once you know you can go anywhere, and do anything, you suddenly want to find a place to settle down. A place to be, as a foundation to build your life on. Its incredibly frustrating. At this moment, i want to hop on the next bus out of town, and ride it till I find a nice looking town, and explore it for a couple weeks, then move on. Call it Gypsy blood, call it nomadic human nature, call it whatever you’d like. Actually, i think the latter is quite accurate, basic human nature, That’s how we, the humble Homo Sapien, evolved after all, correct? Since the moment we struggled from the primordial ooze, we’ve never stopped moving around. There is less and less of the world we haven’t, as a species, seen, conquered, and left. However, we still want more. We all want the feeling of being in a pristine, untainted, piece of nature, That absolute bliss of being completely alone, and without an obligation. I want that so badly. On the other hand, i’d thoroughly dislike it. I’d want something a little more stable, and  a little more permanent. I want a little cottage in the forest, one that no one, besides myself, and the woman i intend to spend the rest of my days with, even knows exists. I want it full of big, overstuffed, couches and arm chairs, One with a big spare room, every wall, covered in dark walnut bookshelves, and those shelves full of old, dusty books. I want that so much more than i want to travel. If i had to choose between the unexpectable, liberating, ability to travel the globe, and the dull, mundane, splendid, rigors of everyday life, I’d chose the latter every time. I’d choose to work a nine-to-five, struggling to make mortgage payments, and spending my evenings arguing with my partner, over being without a care in the world every single time. I think there’s something far more beautiful in that, than there is in having the freedom to roam. When you roam, your freedom comes from knowing that there’s no one that needs you. Knowing that you have no responsibility’s, other than those to yourself. Knowing that you can take care of yourself, and have no one to take care of. But those are exactly the things that i want. I want to feel needed. I want to know there is someone depending on me. I want to be taken care of when i’m sick, and I want to take care of my partner when they are sick. I want to be just as sure that i can take care of myself, as i am knowing I can take care of someone else. I want stability. I guess I’ll end this post as i always do. By saying, I don’t know. Because i really don’t. I am happily uncertain of anything in life. Certainty breeds only boredom, and expectations. Thank you for the read, and have yourselves a beautiful, stable, and perfect life, you exquisite, wonderful humans.

Hurry Up and Wait

Why does everything in life take so long? Why do I start every post with a question? Why haven’t I posted anything of substance within the last couple weeks? Weird. Have you ever been so sure of something? I mean, that kind of sure that when you have even the slightest doubt, you laugh at yourself for being so stupid? It’s a beautiful feeling really. However, when you know that sureness means nothing to the advancement of time, it kinda dulls the beauty. Not dull really. Think about it this way; Look at a piece of new silver, like, a new silver ring. Its beautiful, isn’t it? The way it shines, the way it sparkles and glimmers in the light. Now look at an old ring. A really old ring. One with a patina. Is it still beautiful? Undoubtedly. But it doesn’t really shine anymore, does it? It doesn’t have that glimmer, that radiance of newness. What it does have though, is memories. It has more beauty in its sentimental value, than the new ring could ever have in its shine. And, as quite a few people know, if you polish, and remove that patina, it’s nearly worthless. That’s what waiting for something you’re sure about is like. When you get it, it’s not going to shine as much as it would have, had it happened immediately. It’s going to be better. The things that ring has gone through. The wars, the parties, the splendor of everyday life, that’s what makes it better. If you had the new ring, and the old ring, you know which one you’d be less heartbroken to lose. Even if that new ring is worth a million dollars more, it’ll never quite mean as much as the old one, will it? I don’t know what i ever hoped to convey in this post, probably something meaningful, and not nearly so metaphorical. Anyhow, have a wonderful day, you beautiful people.