Saturday, October 21, 2006

Get it out

Sometimes it just makes more sense if i can type it all out. All is a relative term here - i don't even know if there will be more than one thing to "get out". Probably not ... the mind is fickle if anything.

I remember when - I remember, I remember when i lost my mind ... there was something so special about that day.

Gnarly Barcles. Hah hah. What does it matter what i call "him" if it's just a made up name anyways - the real culprits are Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse ... pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

On to the main event. I heard it in my head and it just sounded too good not to put on paper ... in bits ... whatever.

See, the thing is this:

There's a song that's really gotten my proverbial goat. Metaphorical goat. ... hmm. There's really no proverb out there that i'm aware of that mentions a goat being gotten, so this would indicate that the appropriate word for this situation would indeed be metaphorical. I have, after all, no goat to get. Save a metaphorical one.

... which seems to have been gotten. Metaphorically.

I just love that word.

Anyways - the whole point of this little tirade (pron. tie-raid dammit! as everyone around me can attest to, it has no bearing on the topic whether the word was or is pronounced differently in the society from whence the word and its usage originated. This is America. Here, every Cairo can be a Kay-row. My personal feelings on the matter are hitherto inconsequential - the masses have decided the fate of our friend the tirade.)

HAHAH. I just ended that sentence with a paranthetical. No period at all. Eat me El Profesor de In-freakin'-gles.

So anyways, there's this song that has me up in arms. (at arms? who the hell knows? ... you'd better not be saying "me" at this juncture, dear reader)

'Waiting on the World to Change' by John Mayer. I think the reason that i find it so completely off-putting and upsetting is that, like most John Mayer songs, it strikes hard, fast, and 'merciless' at the root of several emotions and thoughts which have seen fit to turn my mind and heart upside down. The emotions the former and the thoughts the latter ... they like to mix things up.

See, what upsets me is this: (yay colons!) What in the hell are we waiting for? Why would we wait? ... and what the hell are we waiting for?? (i know i repeated that one - hold on to it, it's important ... shhhhhhhh ...)

It seems to me that we, the species, of the divided species of humanity, have a very serious problem. We're convinced that there's something else - something important for us. OK OK OK ... that's a lie. The problem really is that there isn't anything. Not that we're convinced there is. There's a very severe distinction between those two statements.

Wait. Scratch that. How the fuck would i know either of those things to be true? What am i? Omniscient? Please. If i knew anything more than the paltry few things which trundle vacant-eyed and directionless through the cavernous expanse which is my mind (though they do have very spacious accomodations, those paltry few) i'd have it all figured out, know where i should be, understand my role in it all, yada yada yada. No no, i think that to be honest we should hone our inquiry into "what's eating Gilbert Grape" into a fine point. A laser even. Those are cool. Said inquiry should henceforth be focused almost exclusively on the question of why i am, where i am, who i am, and why the fuck is Optimus Prime RED?

... OK, that last was just to see if you were paying attention. Petty, i know. ;-)

I think i can officially say that whatever it was that i needed to get out has failed miserably in its attempt to surface to the top of these murky mind waters. Maybe that was the only reason i wanted to write - to get something out or shut it out. What maybe? Wow - my powers of self delusion are almost too much sometimes. Aren't ours all?

All i know is this: The world is too much with us. I keep thinking about how we're affecting this planet and how the human social psyche has developed and will progress, but ultimately it all comes down to one thing: and if you find out what it is... keep it to yourself. The world couldn't bear the truth of it.

And you're probably wrong.


Catch you on the flip side, baby. Wherever that may be.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Back into the light

The world almost seems too immense - engulfing you body and soul in what seems almost a sea of unknowns and shadowy posibilities.

It almost feels sometimes like if you look in the mirror long enough, your form will melt away and reveal who or what you really are. Fire burning away within a hollow cask that eventually rots and whithers into nothingness, or dirt.

The question of who i am and what i'm for often rears it's head when i least expect it - casting me into as dark a hole as i can manage to dig myself into and holding the ladder just far enough away that though within grasping distance my arms flail uselessly at the empty air.

What is it all for? Who knows. Who cares. Ultimately it all comes down to a simple fact: life is a journey, not a destination. Words made famous that nevertheless hold an inordinate amount of truth. There's never been a time in my life when i've doubted the veracity of that elucidation - but times like these call into question whose journey it is, and whether it is our place or indeed within our ability to change ships, switch rivers, or even simply enjoy and accept.

Surely the latter at least. Right?

The presupposition that all is meant t o be one way or the other and that all will end well regardless of present circumstance is a conjecture I hesitate to accept. Maybe it's all crap. Maybe it all ends as it seems to begin - one huge startling realization that all we had previously accepted as knowledge and truth is wrong. You find yourself instead ashamed to have thought so simplistically, and ultimately accept the definitive nature of your being - which you had previously been unaware of. The escape from the womb becomes an analogy for our death, only in reverse. Our certainty of our own existence and the world around us fades into the murky acceptance of a fate within the ground.

If there is a soul, what does it look like? What does it look like? Where is it hiding.