Monday, June 14, 2010
Just once I wish I could play puppet master. Make everyone's actions correspond to my own selfish desires. Do what I want with little regard for the feelings of others and have no guilt, no repercussions, emotional or otherwise. I wish I could force contact and happiness and make the world right according to Katy.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
perfection
Given enough solo time on a candlelit covered deck, during a rain storm, with a glass of whiskey and Girlyman on the surround sound, I could solve all the world's problems. Or at least question myself into a state of blissful befuddlement.
Splendid cacophony.
The flame flickers against beige siding as my gentleman caller promises love everlasting through plastic speakers. A continuous peltpeltpelt reassures me that no matter how things change... they will always stay the same. I have oft felt that we are where we aspire to be. No matter if I am a SCUBA diving, world traveling, gear plugging, canyoneering incendiary provocateur in my own mind, I cannot escape the reality of the banality of my suburban life.
Crystal balls don't exist. We must forge our own path and know that it is what it is. The paths we are currently constructing form the road that we will follow. Is every decision a piece of the pattern that will design our lives? Does it take extreme selfishness or extreme courage to lead a life less ordinary? Is it really selfishness to seek your own destiny? To asseverate with assurance, "this is what I want." and then contrive to have it? Let the others sort out the details.
I read once some trifling maxim "Never regret anything, because at one time it was exactly what you wanted." I had always thought it a facile way to view a complex life.
Splendid cacophony.
The flame flickers against beige siding as my gentleman caller promises love everlasting through plastic speakers. A continuous peltpeltpelt reassures me that no matter how things change... they will always stay the same. I have oft felt that we are where we aspire to be. No matter if I am a SCUBA diving, world traveling, gear plugging, canyoneering incendiary provocateur in my own mind, I cannot escape the reality of the banality of my suburban life.
Crystal balls don't exist. We must forge our own path and know that it is what it is. The paths we are currently constructing form the road that we will follow. Is every decision a piece of the pattern that will design our lives? Does it take extreme selfishness or extreme courage to lead a life less ordinary? Is it really selfishness to seek your own destiny? To asseverate with assurance, "this is what I want." and then contrive to have it? Let the others sort out the details.
I read once some trifling maxim "Never regret anything, because at one time it was exactly what you wanted." I had always thought it a facile way to view a complex life.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
shiver me timbers.
done done done done!!!!!!
How is my picker SO bad?! I thought I'd learned. I thought I knew how to scrutinize people and look out for the ones that weren't nice. How hard is it to be nice!? I don't think that I am sought out by people looking to take advantage of someone. Instead I seem to be this clandestine doormat. Normal, average people come into contact with me and initially see a strong person, no one sees me as a victim. But somehow the layers get peeled back and my true self is revealed. These seemingly nice people just can't help themselves. A woman that appeared strong, fortified and indestructibly cheerful has now revealed herself as a weak, defenseless and eternally seeking praise sort of pusillanimous individual. And what is a normal person to do? Why then, s/he seeks to ruin said pillar of strength. Tear down any resolve, expose every weakness, exploit every fault to make sure that the pillar then knows that she is nothing. She is a crappy, frail, supine individual made into a malleable creature just seeking your condemnation.
Bring it on, World. I can take it all.
How is my picker SO bad?! I thought I'd learned. I thought I knew how to scrutinize people and look out for the ones that weren't nice. How hard is it to be nice!? I don't think that I am sought out by people looking to take advantage of someone. Instead I seem to be this clandestine doormat. Normal, average people come into contact with me and initially see a strong person, no one sees me as a victim. But somehow the layers get peeled back and my true self is revealed. These seemingly nice people just can't help themselves. A woman that appeared strong, fortified and indestructibly cheerful has now revealed herself as a weak, defenseless and eternally seeking praise sort of pusillanimous individual. And what is a normal person to do? Why then, s/he seeks to ruin said pillar of strength. Tear down any resolve, expose every weakness, exploit every fault to make sure that the pillar then knows that she is nothing. She is a crappy, frail, supine individual made into a malleable creature just seeking your condemnation.
Bring it on, World. I can take it all.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Done.
When I think of how to describe myself one of the adjectives that comes to mind is giving. I enjoy making people happy whether it be with a photo session to capture a once in a lifetime moment or a favorite meal cooked with love. My acts of service are gifts that are given with love. This means that I will drop everything to celebrate a friend's birthday or cancel a ski lesson to attend a baby shower or find a special purse for a loved one while on vacation. If someone needs maternity clothes I will raid my basement stash and pass everything on with love, whether I have future plans for them or not.
And time and time and time again this ends up biting me right in my giant ass. The maternity clothes don't get returned when they're needed, the mother-to-be at the baby shower acts as if I'm not in attendance, the dinner made with specialty store ingredients is shoveled in as if it were from a box and not a word of thanks is uttered.
When I strive to make my friends feel important to me it is not so that it will one day be reciprocated. But is it really too much to ask that once in awhile it is?!? Is it too much to ask a friend of over 10 years, someone that I've known longer than my husband to be late to a single kid's soccer game to celebrate my own baby shower? Or a friend that I consider an actual sister from another mister to not plan her own birthday party during my son's first birthday party? I don't want to get petty and lay out all the multitudinous chores, labors of love that I have performed for this dear friend but suffice it to say that, as usual, the give and take is pretty much give and receive.
I am finding this more and more to be a pattern in my life. Why is that? Friends that I have loved for years are revealing themselves to be lacking in ways I have never seen before. Am I really such a pushover? Because along with giving I would include strong. Gullible would make its way into a top ten list of adjectives, but I had always passed that one off as a funny trait of mine. I am now finding it to not be quite so funny. I have gulled myself into trusting the untrustworthy, befriending the unworthy and giving to the takers.
And time and time and time again this ends up biting me right in my giant ass. The maternity clothes don't get returned when they're needed, the mother-to-be at the baby shower acts as if I'm not in attendance, the dinner made with specialty store ingredients is shoveled in as if it were from a box and not a word of thanks is uttered.
When I strive to make my friends feel important to me it is not so that it will one day be reciprocated. But is it really too much to ask that once in awhile it is?!? Is it too much to ask a friend of over 10 years, someone that I've known longer than my husband to be late to a single kid's soccer game to celebrate my own baby shower? Or a friend that I consider an actual sister from another mister to not plan her own birthday party during my son's first birthday party? I don't want to get petty and lay out all the multitudinous chores, labors of love that I have performed for this dear friend but suffice it to say that, as usual, the give and take is pretty much give and receive.
I am finding this more and more to be a pattern in my life. Why is that? Friends that I have loved for years are revealing themselves to be lacking in ways I have never seen before. Am I really such a pushover? Because along with giving I would include strong. Gullible would make its way into a top ten list of adjectives, but I had always passed that one off as a funny trait of mine. I am now finding it to not be quite so funny. I have gulled myself into trusting the untrustworthy, befriending the unworthy and giving to the takers.
Old loves made new again
An old friend has recently returned to my life. He and I were never close but ours was an amiable enough acquaintance. Through the magic of social networking we are forging a new and unexpected friendship. We have been sharing music and my world is expanding. I have always felt music fervidly. As a confirmed, though somewhat clandestine, poetry fan a song's lyrics can pierce me. As for the harmonies, chords and keys I have my preferences. My girly guys with their guitars are my favorite but my range of music loves are illimitable.
Through sharing I have found new girly guys, heard new poems and rediscovered past loves. The voice of Evanescence has always captivated me. Her mournful laments can cause me to take a deep breath before life can continue. While My Immortal has struck me with the beauty of her plaintive cries, I have never pondered much the lyrics, or their intendment. Having been given this to contemplate I heard it with fresh ears. And the poetry that lies at the soul of this song... well it pierces me.
As a teenage girl finding her life mapped through the words of Brandon Flowers I find my very own meaning in this song. How much time can pass before the wounds do heal? Some inflictions are too deep, the scar still brings pain when one stops to gaze upon it. If you are the one holding the memory dear, how can the person leave? And a lifetime spent with the memory of a phantom does not disappear with mere years of silence. Regardless of the eidolon stemming from a childhood dream, the pain does not disperse simply because there is no reality.
Through sharing I have found new girly guys, heard new poems and rediscovered past loves. The voice of Evanescence has always captivated me. Her mournful laments can cause me to take a deep breath before life can continue. While My Immortal has struck me with the beauty of her plaintive cries, I have never pondered much the lyrics, or their intendment. Having been given this to contemplate I heard it with fresh ears. And the poetry that lies at the soul of this song... well it pierces me.
As a teenage girl finding her life mapped through the words of Brandon Flowers I find my very own meaning in this song. How much time can pass before the wounds do heal? Some inflictions are too deep, the scar still brings pain when one stops to gaze upon it. If you are the one holding the memory dear, how can the person leave? And a lifetime spent with the memory of a phantom does not disappear with mere years of silence. Regardless of the eidolon stemming from a childhood dream, the pain does not disperse simply because there is no reality.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
