Life, Happiness and other Common Complaints

Some day

The ongoing chant of life.

We’re all going to die.

The world is a fucked up place.

Death wanders among us, culling the herd, but not fast enough -too quickly!- it all ends.

Lately, thinking about death gives me anxiety. Today, I was contemplating whether a leaf on a tree lives uniquely, then dies at the close of the season, or whether the plant was the only unique being, and leaves, like fingernails, are simply extra components without “life”. I hope leaves aren’t “alive”, for their lives will end at the whims of weather, accident and just cuz.

If I bend a leaf and it dies, have I killed a unique being? And how long did it live? A day, 5 days?

SO SHORT A TIME.

Are animals also unique creatures? When our cat dies, will he never come back? Will he be reborn again, or is he gone forever?

FOREVER…

When I’m not in the throes of an existential crisis, anxiety cranks up faster than I can scroll through my Facebook feed.

Another Day

In my social circles there’s a common “joke” floating around that once the “baby-boomers” die, the world will be a better place. That’s both interesting and fucked up when you think about it.

It tends to be a reaction to the parent/grandparent generation who think – “well, the world is pretty fucked up. Good thing my kids will live on and fix it!”. Or, those other parents/grandparents who rage against the millennials.

You know the ones.

So between the chants of -“damn those lazy kids”- and -“let the kids fix it”, it really becomes amusing.

…no? Okay, another angle.

Let’s say you’re in line to inherit a valuable legacy -say a silver mine. Your grandparents passed it to your parents who will one day pass it on to you. You’ve been raised in a reasonable lifestyle: food, clothing, shelter, etc..

The mine, however, has some issues. The exploited workers don’t get health care, waste management is nonexistent, the mine has displaced several villages and caused untold damage to the environment, plus, your mine and company have been in a legal property feud since… forever, it seems.

Now, you are nearing legal age to start helping the business, and the more you learn about the various facets the more horrified you become at the numerous issues that are apparent. You might want to make changes to modify or redirect some of the former processes; but of course, you don’t really have authority yet because your parents are still alive, the Board of Directors really run things and you don’t even have a single company stock to your name.

Even more disturbing, you realize that your parents figure that it’s no big deal. When you try to talk about the “company direction” and the long-term effects, they shrug and respond that it’s not really their problem. They just need to continue making a profit.

Of course, when they retire, you can run things how you want, but in the meantime -hell no, there won’t be any changes!

And why can’t you do more to help anyway instead of making more work for everyone? Lazy and ungrateful, that’s what you are, ungrateful of this legacy that has fed and clothed you since you were a mere embryonic cell.

Or whatever.

So you continue to perpetuate the cycle because you can’t change it and you gotta eat. Maybe when they die, you can finally…

And then your co-inheriting cousin shows up. He doesn’t see a problem with any of it, and of course your parents like him more.

Before you know it, you don’t have a dog in this race!

So, you get shunted aside, your opinion doesn’t matter, and none of the problems will be solved.

But the Best Moments

Are when you don’t think so deeply. Smile at the geese in the road. Accelerate and leave the past behind.

Ignore the warnings.

Carve out small moments of “it’s okay”, even when it’s a lie.

Don’t care so much.

And someday it will end.

Advertisements

Mocha #2: It’s Official, I Guess… [I Know but Cannot Say]

It’s Official I Guess…

Is there a right way to talk about preferred names and pronouns in the workforce? Is it even anyone’s business? 

As of a few days ago, my work world has been informed of my preferred name and pronouns -different from the legal ones.

I’m not sure what to do with that.

It was kind of involuntary. My new job segments into 2 sets of peer groups. I’d informed one peer group since I’d felt okay sharing and it was my first time saying it OUT LOUD to work colleagues and having them call me by my preferred name was… the best feeling ever!

I just started working with the second peer group and was more occupied with bare necessities, like office space, where to eat, where to park, who do I work with, etc.. I hadn’t really gotten around to notifying this peer group and set of supervisors about this information.

But the peer groups chat with each other, and before I even thought through how I’d approach a conversation around my pref. name and such with the second group, I got a text asking me about it.  I briefly explained, impromptu, while resisting the urge to apologize (knee-jerk reaction is to apologize for nothing).

I kinda feel mixed about it, because it was outside of my control and it was an involuntary conversation rather than a proactive one. And I feel awkward. And such.

And, I hadn’t even figured out if this was something I even wanted to do -work and personal life are separate, right?

I’m a planner. I want to really think things through before making a decision about anything. Especially this sort of thing which would impact every facet of life. I don’t need extra -isms: I’m already on the docket for racism, sexism, sexuality-ism, personality-ism, religionism, wrong-place-wrong-time-ism,  etc. etc..

Now, I get to add genderism, awkward-ism, underlying prejudice, extra levels of difficulty and how will this impact my job role?

I don’t want to be the “new curiosity in aisle 3” so to speak. I just don’t want extra attention when I want to live my life. I hope this doesn’t become a thing where it’s the queer elephant in the room during conversations.

Joy…

 

I Know, but Cannot Say

I stick to poetry much of the time lately because I’ve been struggling to write the stuff in my mind. Why?

Because it’s not like anyone is going to read it.

Because the big data collection peoples/companies will simply scoop up my brain to analyze my likelihood to buy [insert-product-here].

Because it’s a control thing?

Maybe.

If  I could, I’d talk about my old job, how much it killed parts of me that I didn’t even know I had, or that I took for granted. Nothing like the first job fresh from uni to kill your soul. How I can’t get that enthusiastic about anything anymore since I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for someone to start screaming and calling me shit. Waiting for the shunning and isolation, for everything to be insufficient and for promises to be broken.

I guess I’d talk about the isolation of being in a culture that isn’t supportive of me. Breaking away from the structure of religion, and going back to my parents’ house every once and awhile with them staring at me with these eyes of “you’re going to hell”.

Like I don’t catch every time they say “god willing” or “May the lord bless you” or “may the lord be with you” -fuck that! I don’t need a lord. I don’t need a god.

No one’s there for me, I don’t need anyone like that.

I just need a good friend. But those are nearly as hard to find as an honest politician. Unicorn.

I’ve pursued that unicorn, that dark horse with a conical sword on its forehead. I wanted to be its passenger, so bad. I couldn’t chase it, couldn’t lasso it down. A fucking mockery.

Often times, I’d catch a rhino instead. Ungainly, endangered, and ultimately someone else’s property.

If I ever do catch that unicorn, I feel like I’d need to break its legs to keep it mine. Then it wouldn’t be a unicorn. But it would be mine.

Hi. I’m worth more.

I’d talk about how the theme so far is to crumple oneself to fit in or get used to being alone. I pay for my individuality with company. Cause I’m too much, not enough, inappropriate, or something.

I stand in conversations, silent, and staring at the people around me like “who are you?”, “why are you faking it”, “why are you asking so many questions, I’m not that interesting”. It’s like mentally stepping back to the corner of the room, just watching and observing and analyzing.

Imagine being at a party. You go in, you don’t know many people. You grab a drink, smile, and embed yourself into a conversation or two or twelve. Plastic crinkles in the background and you realize almost suddenly, that the whole room is filled with mannequins. Mannequins you have nothing in common with, that are impossible to connect with, that speak another language as part of a foreign species.

Nothing to do except leave.

But I can’t leave my life.

I’d talk about how life feels like hostage negotiation. Picking and choosing battles, except the battles are life and death. I could die walking out my front door just because of who I am. Being okay with that.

I’d talk about how we are all tadpoles in the boiling pot and we’re close to 100 degrees Celsius, and 212 degrees Fahrenheit. No one’s going to jump out, or say anything. So we’ll all die together. Goodbye planet earth – we’re going to be sun 2.

I’d talk about life being the structure of our own unique cage. You’re born in one, then you build one for yourself. With your style and aesthetic, one that you can stand to live in. The bars are habit, the ceiling is you saying “I can’t”, the walls are your perceived limitations, the floor is the core of your spirit.

Build it right, it can be a prison or a home.

There’s so much I could talk about. But it’s not like anyone wants to hear it.

I have so much love to give. But it’s not like anyone wants it.

The beauty of the future is that it can change. I’m not waiting for it to change. I’m growing me to become a evolved self. The core of me is alive and real and won’t ever die.

The only thing that dies is my faith in humanity. In love. In friendship and brotherhood.

Maybe I’m in the wrong part of the world for humanity.

 

Coffee #27 – Tend Your Lawn

Life and Lawns

Life stretches out like a property -a lawn- caged by time. The lawn ornaments are chosen with care, maintenance outlined on a regular schedule.

People come for barbecues, luncheons, dinner parties, afternoon drinks, siestas, playtime, playdates, morning coffee, and stargazing. Garbage gets tossed on the lawn, cans in the hedges, tissue among the flowers and plastic bags in the trees. The grass grows tall, the litter piles up, and weeds take over.

You’re responsible for your lawn. You are responsible for your life. Clean it, or don’t.

Continue reading Coffee #27 – Tend Your Lawn

Random Thought

In a gross oversimplification,  the Spanish, despite plundering the new world first,  sent the majority of their wealth to the Catholic church. The British had no such obligations and managed to encompass the globe and all the riches therein. Where, then, is all that wealth? Has it all been liquidated post WWI and WWII?

I am Debating Cryosleep

In the perfect world, I would put all my possessions in storage, freeze my accounts, tell some family members to lock away my government issued identification, and finally be transported to the nearest cryosleep location to sleep off the shitty parts of my life.

Wouldn’t it be grand to wake up just as life was getting better?

For fear of turning this post into a bitch fest, I am contemplating the stretch of my life so far in 2017.

I am suffering from boredom -not intellectual boredom, or lack of Netflix- no, I speak of a lack of stimulating conversation. Talking with people. Being with people. Being in the company of others.

I think I put myself in jail…

And I can’t, for the life of me, find a way to break this cycle.

Go somewhere? Yes, but where, darling? There are no festivals or community events -and I’m not going to an AA meeting to meet people (the last remaining social event…).

Go where there are people? Refer to answer 1. There just isn’t that many people here… I need to move, don’t I?

The wanderlust has been stirring, and frankly, I never thought I could do so much time in one place again. I need to get going…

And yet, there is no one like me. I am dying for some intelligent, impractical, irreverent, and immersible conversation that isn’t about someone’s love life, or their daddy issues, or their complaints about…shit that they started themselves. PLEASE, IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

Cryosleep is looking better every day…

On a random note, I recently drove by an old childhood memory site – the religious camp where much of my early years were tainted wasted. It looked so small and unkempt. I wonder what those silly little people are up to now in their tiny stupid worlds…

Probably still fighting over apartments.

Ahhh, let the good times roll…

 

Pic source, Artist Kaek

Salutate the Rebellious

“No one saves the devil, you know.”

“Hmph, are you expecting sympathy?”

A laugh strangles into a ragged cough cracking abruptly through the crisp winter air. Wet, and phlegm-filled, it echoed with the deadly rasp of eminent decay.

Many may have confused the death and the devil, but it was in this moment that they each appeared as separate entities. And…which had come for the other?

“We do have much in common. I am blamed for evil, you for the end of life.”

“And yet,” Death murmured, “to live is evil.”

“So then, Death, are you truly an angel? And, if so, have you fallen like I had fallen? Is this eternal task your punishment-?”

Continue reading Salutate the Rebellious

It’s always the small ones…

I took MMA for a semester a few years ago and frankly I loved it. Throwing choke holds, wrestling, kicking, punching -nothing but fun.

One time, I partnered with two other guys to practice. One of the guys was short and slender, so I thought him to be normal. It turns out, he had been taking classes for quite a while. Had I know, I would have changed my strategy of approach.

Continue reading It’s always the small ones…

Fantastical Subconscious

Picture source: http://www.visualart.me/work/3045

[We] wandered the warrens of the underground building, a 3 story living abode that morphed into an amphitheater with multiple doors leading to outer rooms and passageways on its peripheral. The ceilings were impossibly high, with walls and ceiling the color of sand.

From a side passageway, a loud scream echoed and [we] looked to see a ginormous T-Rex burst into the amphitheater where we stood. Aside from its razor sharp claws and ferocious teeth, its entire skeletal body was rife with flame, as if it had clawed up from hell in the embodiment of some bastardization of a reptilian ghost rider.

Fear. Shock. DODGE!!

Continue reading Fantastical Subconscious

2016 -Nailed it

A swift look into last year’s “yesterday”.

Resolution

Last year’s resolution was control.

I imagined, at the time, that like a Dom chaining down their Sub, I would finally be in complete mastery of all the things in my life that I felt so helpless about.

In truth, it was more about learning about the spheres of control. Some things are within reach and scope, others are not. Some things are frankly quite beyond my control and I’m perfectly okay with that.

It was about accepting responsibility Continue reading 2016 -Nailed it