I am a needle.
I am a useful object.
I want to be treated like a useful object, like boots that are shined.
Or an electric razor that gets cleaned before you put it back in its box.
When used improperly I cause damage like a folding chair, or an escalator.
Or a knife left to rust and you cut your finger and it hurts, but I've also poisoned you, and you haven't had a tetanus shot in nine years...or is it ten?
It was not my choice or intention. Unmaintained, uncared for, I will oxidize, and there is no shame in that.
It's been a long time since I have felt this good. But I must say, I'm feeling very good.
I have come to a solid conclusion about life and love and I think I'm over the past.
My conclusion is that love is all about circumstance. Pursuing love on any other basis, can work out, but adds a layer of complexity and artificiality. So, I have know for years but have looked for other answers to confirm it by contradiction...
Love is standing in a field where those seed fuzzies are floating through the air. If you grab at them, the pressure will displace them, and you will have nothing. Nay, all you must do is stand in the field and wait with hands out, and the seed will get caught on the imperfections in your skin. Then you may choose to slowly close your hand around the seed...or not.
I have known this since I was 16, but patience is boring, and I get easily distracted and caught up.
Anyway, the point is that I'm feeling very good about life.
So I wrote a math song that I really like, but every time I listen to it, I hear a different song, and so I wrote that version after I finished the first version.
Apparently I can never go home.
At least until I find a new home.
This is difficult, people have been encouraging me to settle down and the rest will come to me.
My song told me in no uncertain terms that I am incapable of making a home for myself by myself.
That is why I can't put down roots, and I'm very ambivalent about it because I want roots, and I obviously feel like Minneapolis is home, but I still don't have what I need to make a home.
I am also becoming more and more detached. I often find myself watching myself having moments that I should be present for. Or worse, watching the situation unfold as I do not step into it and live. I am here to watch what happens. It is not my place to interfere. This kind of thinking is conducive to watching the world burn.
It's all related. When I am a person again, I will care about the rest of the world.
For now, I will take care of myself.
When the apple is ripe, it will fall.
It is six days to Rosh Ha'Shana.
5769 has been the first year of my life that was not better than the last. But I think it will be an aberration. I have high hopes for 5770. Three more months to get through...and then...
When memory failed, as it so often did, he turned to deduction. There is really no way to know if that is the same fork I was using before...but if it was, it should feel hot from the water. He touched it and it was hot, and as there were no other forks present or likely to be correct, he continued about his business.
Marc sits alone contemplating if he has irreconcilably ruined his life. He knows the answer is no, but that's small conciliation, as he catalogs all of the things that are terribly wrong. He can't do this however without considering all the things that are terribly right and good and lucky...and then I say, "I have lost everything...just not all at once." which he likes as a concept as much as he likes mixing his point of view mid sentence. There can be no self-pity nor any desire to be pitiable. He's not, and he hates victims even more than arbitrary human-made rules...especially structural ones...he actually loves arbitrary human-made rules, because they provide the structure which allows you to know you are deviating from the path can be the most dangerous and the most rewarding thing you can do and living in the woods, these metaphoric woods are not a bad place to live but after awhile it gets tiring and confusing and you know that everyone who followed the trail markings while not in a "better" place at least knows where they are regardless whether they brought their compass. I brought my compass but I forgot to label which way was North so I just had to choose a point which I call Nort because I always thought that 'Naught' was 'Nort' it was so long before I ever realized it that I decided if one can go 27 years thinking that Naught is Nort, it's really no problem, and anyway it's my compass and it will lead me to Fisherman's Beach...wherever that may be.
Marc knows what he wants, but there has been a large investment of time into something else and he's gotten too deep into the woods to back out, he must continue to follow his stupid compass with no guarantee that anything positive will come of it and there may be bears. He's here alone...and no one can take that away from him...or more accurately anyone can take that away from him, but will he let them? Probably not. No one deserves to be in a hole they did not dig themselves, and no one deserves to be lost in the woods...and how much stuff do you have to build to no longer be lost. If Marc stops and builds a shelter that he lives in like Thoreau and stops paying his taxes like Thoreau...Okay...to be fair Thoreau never stopped paying his taxes, just the portion that went to the war, possibly the Spanish American war, I could look it up if I wanted to be smart about this, but the writing should be pure...which leads me to admit the fact that I did look up Nort, but only because I can never remember if it's me or the rest of the world that has stayed the same while I was out and when I came back to my shelter I knew where I was, I was home, and not lost in a sentence or the woods, which must come with some kind of complacency...lost indicates a desire to be somewhere else, and the zen approach is to accept where I am, but it would be awful to stay here.
The Thesis is simple: Follow through, kicking and screaming, and accept the fact that you have a long way to go.
Commencing core dump:
I am happy because Album #1 is all but complete today, every once in a while I realize that I am sacrificing lots of comforts to make this happen, but I don't notice, perhaps because I am just not used to them anymore or because I am self medicating enough that I feel like everything is okay. I have no real idea of what my future is anymore, and that is very irritating to me, because I continue to not do things that would make me happy in the moment, in favor of making actions that will make my future better, when I will also put off happiness for a better future, and in seeing this from a step back perhaps it must stop.
However I hesitate to do that, because the second thing I am finding about myself is that in the general case I am really afraid of causing other people pain, and that fear/respect of/for other people stops me again from doing things that would make me happy in the present.
So I will continue to work on my projects and do them, and stay away from things that will make me happy now. Because at least completing projects will make me relatively happy.
Last night I decided my room was warm, but the floor was cold, and if my throat is going to improve I need to sleep where the air is warmer.
Today I accomplished a lot!
I found a bedframe on craigslist, got it, accepted my job for real now, set up an appointment with HR, got an official transcript, bought a scarf, bought the missing wood for the bed frame, ate food, watched a movie, and built the frame.
Things not accomplished today:
Working on songs.
But tomorrow is another day and I will have another chance to work on songs and dress myself.