Thursday, September 2, 2010

Maybe it's gone.

I've had this idea in my head for a few days toward what I would post next, but I had a pretty difficult time actually getting myself to start writing. First, I was hesitant mostly because I couldn't think of anything recent worth exploring. It was when I realized that unanswerable questions like this one seem to stall more than a handful of processes that I felt almost silly approaching my reaction with more than a "Duh."

I cannot stand misplacing things, leaving plans to spontaneous dictation, and feeling unorganized. It is incredibly stressful to feel as if the solution to a puzzling inconvenience will save you from teetering on the edge of sanity. It has seemed perfectly superficial up until now, but after paying greater attention to my mental to-do list, I've  noticed it has become determinant of the winner between stillness and chaos. There's the calm, and then the storm, like day and night, or black and white.

 Too many times have I been addressed in regards to engulfing news by another person who claims that closure comes after acceptance. Accepting that there may and probably will never be an appropriate explanation to a pain-in-the-ass situation does not bring closure. But when it's really considered, what is so great about closure anyway?

That's the major fallacy here. We're closure-greedy problem solvers who need a fix, answer, or solution to any and all of our problems. While most are well aware that some things cannot be solved within our own worried minds, it's still too common where this fear prevents a person from pushing through and having the privilege to enjoy the recycled value in his or her initial impossibilities.

You will never know why events unfold in front of us the way they do. If it is comforting to believe that you really have as much control over your time-line as your guilt and shame intend you to, then go ahead and enjoy that cognitive highway. I'll warn you though, it's uncertain how far you'll be from the nearest exit.

Misplacing a tedious keepsake may cause you to feel as if you have never experienced such angst until then.  Having no solution to your most pertinent equation, on top of needing to accept that in order to rest, really is unfortunate. It really is. However, it can wait.

Sometimes you have to throw in the towel and surrender to imperfection. Curiosity killed the cat, and it did so before that cat could ever explain how it happened. We can try to explain hatred, heartbreak, disappointments, deaths, failure, and fortune, but like it's like I said: You'll be driving on a dark and windy road, with no clues as to where you're going.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Un, deux, trois.

So, here we go. I've been meaning to start this blog for a long time now... I wasn't exactly sure how to approach it since this isn't one of those "I want to be a writer so please subscribe to me and help get me published so I can feed my dog and pay my rent," type of blogs. This is the type where I vent, rant, and ramble about things, thoughts, and experiences, and maybe some few will come across this and decide to take in a few lines. Maybe you can relate to this, or maybe you think what I have to say is complete bullshit. Either way I'm fine with giving you that choice.

A little over a month ago, a good friend of mine was killed in a car accident. It's hard to believe it's been that long when I still can't even believe it really happened. To say the least, this year has been interesting, and has hit me in more ways that I could ever have expected. Looking back to January, I almost feel as if I am an entirely different person than I was before. If I believed in a god or a tangible higher power of some sort, I'd probably express how I think he/she has been trying to teach me a lesson. Clearly, I've been missing their point because the ball hasn't stopped rolling.

Last night, while texting one of my best friends about the itchy stagnant sadness that has most recently consumed my mind, she replied with some of the best advice I hadn't expected. She told me, "O, life is messy and it fucking blows. But, it's all we have, and it's worth the battle." After reading this, I thought about the incredible sense it made to me right then and there. When life throws curve balls at you, one after another, after another, we really do have two choices. "Either throw your hands up and sit there in the rubble, or take the hard knocks and rebuild." This choice that isn't really a choice is the only thing with which we can engage ourselves before succumbing to the parasitic lifestyles our societies dread. It's a beautiful thing to see someone smile, and it's that much more amazing to witness when it is genuine from left to right.

The heroes of our world were neither given nor handed any part of their legacies, rather they chose to overcome the rubble beneath, above, and all around them. They rebuilt into beauty and their stories show us how. Be a hero to one, or a hero to all. Although, never should you sit in that rubble as if it all's been destroyed. In my opinion, the greatest and most inspiring forms of art emerge from the rejected and recycled debris left behind our greatest battles.