Must Have Forgot My Meds
Man, I wish I could just take a pill and be happy.
You think it's easy being an intelligent, introspective man? Let me tell you, it's a tough gig. I have to engage in so many activities to keep my mind off the waking nightmares that stalk my mind: tsunamis, neoconservatives, office politics, nepotism, what others might think of me, bills, money, mortality (mine), fear of artistic/financial/social/sexual failure.
In order to avoid dwelling on these things I have to go to movies, make movies, work out, play guitar, build or upgrade a computer every six weeks, make and drink pot after pot of gourmet coffee, telephone friends, write songs, sing songs and jack myself off with this blog (and sometimes without it). Even staying busy at my crummy job gets me through the day.
Sitting idle for more than a few minutes turns my mind inward, and it's dark in there. I wonder if other people have that darkness, too, and if they're afraid of it. Is everybody on the treadmills at the gym running from something? (Disclaimer: I don't go to a gym. I see these people through the windows. The whole gym thing is another post.) Or are they just working out? I wish I knew. I wish I knew if the chaos inside me is inside everybody. Sometimes I'm sure it is, and other times I think I'm the only one.
Most Saturdays I spend completely alone, just me and whatever blows through my mind, so if I'm smart I get a few diversions going. Today I was only half-smart, which is what led to this little outburst. I enjoy most of the activities listed above (except for working and working out -- hmm, seems to be some kind of connection there...) but I wonder how I can hit that state of feelin' alright naturally. High on life, as it were, not evading the demons, just not even fucking knowing about them.
And now for some cheery lyrics by Leonard Cohen:
I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
You think it's easy being an intelligent, introspective man? Let me tell you, it's a tough gig. I have to engage in so many activities to keep my mind off the waking nightmares that stalk my mind: tsunamis, neoconservatives, office politics, nepotism, what others might think of me, bills, money, mortality (mine), fear of artistic/financial/social/sexual failure.
In order to avoid dwelling on these things I have to go to movies, make movies, work out, play guitar, build or upgrade a computer every six weeks, make and drink pot after pot of gourmet coffee, telephone friends, write songs, sing songs and jack myself off with this blog (and sometimes without it). Even staying busy at my crummy job gets me through the day.
Sitting idle for more than a few minutes turns my mind inward, and it's dark in there. I wonder if other people have that darkness, too, and if they're afraid of it. Is everybody on the treadmills at the gym running from something? (Disclaimer: I don't go to a gym. I see these people through the windows. The whole gym thing is another post.) Or are they just working out? I wish I knew. I wish I knew if the chaos inside me is inside everybody. Sometimes I'm sure it is, and other times I think I'm the only one.
Most Saturdays I spend completely alone, just me and whatever blows through my mind, so if I'm smart I get a few diversions going. Today I was only half-smart, which is what led to this little outburst. I enjoy most of the activities listed above (except for working and working out -- hmm, seems to be some kind of connection there...) but I wonder how I can hit that state of feelin' alright naturally. High on life, as it were, not evading the demons, just not even fucking knowing about them.
And now for some cheery lyrics by Leonard Cohen:
I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
posted by Larry Jones at 10:58 PM
11 Comments:
Larry, I know that feeling all too well, and I would imagine that most everyone feels the same chaos inside. But, do you do all those things because you are avoiding your thoughts, or are you doing them because you have an exceptionally curious and intelligent way of thinking?
Highly intelligent men jack off about the same way that other men do, but they masturbate with a great deal more imagination. They have to, they can't stand to be bored. I can stand to be alone, but I can't stand to be creatively uninvolved. Once in the past few years, I had no computer and I--gasp!--actually wrote my poems out by pencil. Hell, I'd paint pictures with boogers if I had to. It would just be a slow process.
Good luck with your hamsterbation.
Melissa,
That is certainly the question that bothers me. Option #2 is the more flattering, thus the one I lean toward, and the one I try to make true. But sometimes I have doubts, and sometimes I have thoughts that simply MUST be avoided.
Ron,
Is it warm in here? Yeah? That's what I thought. I'm going outside.
do you have his new album? some fitting lyrics on it as well. but then again, all his lyrics are fitting.
and yes, i think everybody is running from something. it's not so much running, it is just that we're making noise. anything at all so that in the quietude we don't have turn inward. and why should we want to? what's so fantastic there?
j_
I can't own Leonard's new CD, as I am still undergoing therapy from listening to his first two LP's (in the 1960's), and reading "Beautiful Losers."
Why should we want to look inside? Some say that's where everything is. I just wish I could find my way around better in there. My ideas are lying around on the floors of dusty closets, hard to find and organize, and there are scary things lurking at the ends of darkened hallways.
but if it is true, why makes friends? why marry? why go outside, if it's all in there? and what is the point of conquering the world? what does that even me? the best any one can hope for is to control the way he or she sees the world. to create better lies and more pleasing illusions.
L.--Beautiful Losers is a strange read.
And yes, I have the first two albums, and all that came between then and now.
and if you ever reach the point of having conquered yourself, then you'll have nothing more to live for, because that's the essence of life.
and the whole point should be to live life as if you are dying, that way you really experience it, as much of it as you can.
larry, i say to just fucking own your chaos, love it, revel in it, create even more of it, bathe in it, breathe it in, suck it down, lap it up, blow on it, lick it, kiss it, and finally, be it.
me personally, well, i kinda like my little storm surges of chaos...a bit like pig pen on charlie brown, except i've got chaos following me around rather than dust bunnies. ;-)
Kung Pow Pig,
To conquer oneself is truly a huge accomplishment, maybe one that we can only strive for, and never achieve. In the meantime, some are conquering the world around us, and promoting the belief that THEIR victories are the more important ones. Maybe it's a guy thing but it seems as if a lot of us have accepted that belief, and feel diminished because our victories are within, and not readily visible. Oh, you want an example? George W. Bush was a C student at a school that only let him in because of his family's money. He doesn't have an original thought in his head and his life is almost certainly unexamined. Yet he will be remembered in history because he "conquered" Iraq. I may conquer myself or I may not, but either way my memory dies with me. So, even though I wouldn't talk to Bush for two minutes at a party, I envy him.
j_
You're right. The "universe" may be within us, but we still crave to connect outside of ourselves. The impulse is so universal that I'm prepared to stipulate that it is real and we have to go for it.
No good reason to conquer the world -- see my previous comment. We do it because we think it's more important than inner understanding. More tamgible. More babes and Cuban cigars.
Melissa,
Yeah, having fully conquered yourself (I'm starting to lose touch with what exactly that means) seems like a boring state to be in. But then, I haven't achieved nirvana except for that one weekend in a Ketchikan hotel room with a cocktail waitress and a case of J&B, and I don't really remember that, so I can't say for sure that I wouldn't like it.
As for Melissa's Chaos Theory, you are an inspiration to me, and I mean that.
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