The Best Time = The Biggest Joke

Especially right after i graduated college, i had no sense of accomplishment and no sense of grandiosity about having a college education. I feel i breezed through it by the skin of my teeth . . . that i did my absolute best, not to do my best at school. Those four years, being the best of my life so far . . i have no doubt, will be the eternal "best time of my life."

with such an attitude, immortality at my fingertips, the certainity of large and grand unknown things in my future, everything a question and just living in the moment for today's drink specials and tomorrow's big exam. the naive thoughts that allowed me to fall deeply into everything i did. i don't wish i knew then what i know now. because, then, then would not have been as famous as it was.

but on the account of school, i feel that it was sort of a joke. i went to class every now and then, many classes i only showed up for the the syllabus on the first day and then on tests thereafter. for those classes with an electronic syllabus . . well . . it goes without saying . .

i slept and made friends, had philosophical discussions, read, ate, and mostly laughed and felt. i felt things freshly, for the first time ever and immersed myself in those things that had never done, the exploration and extroversian of college is epic.

but again, the schooling was not what i had expected. sure many classes were difficult, but if going to most of the classes and then cramming two (actually usually one) day before the test can get you an A or a B . . well . . what does that tell you . .

any tom dick and harry can get a ba or a bs. even from my college. it's a flipping joke.

the best time of our lives is the biggest joke of our lives.

sarcasm for the gods

in the last blog i made mention of my prior coping mechanism of running, of detachment, of a security blanket.

nowadays, it has become more and more easy for me to look things square in the eye. I think the threat of the rest of my life has hit me . . the threat that the rest of my life is at my doorstep and if i don't grow up, im going to have a shitty life. i'm going to be unhappy, passive aggressive, and aimless in the world.

for all the perfectionistic tendencies in me . . . all the "if it's not perfect, then it's not worth doing," go against my logical thoughts that include "it doesn't matter if it's not perfect, the act of doing is worth more than idealist perfection." perfection may or may not exist. if perfection is relative than it is everywhere, all the time, but only relatively. if it is not relative, by definition, and utopian, than it clearly doesn't exist. unless utopia is relative. :) and round and round we go.

theres some garbar in my stomach.

so advice to myself: don't run. eat better so there's less garbar. stop seeking something that doesn't exist. be real. have faith in myself at all times. find my bliss. try to do more things on my "things to do before I die." get people to stop talking in my office while I'm trying to blog. FRICK . .shut uppp and gett outttt . . . too bad they can't here my thoughts . . maybe i should be passive aggressive. hah.

sarcasm for the gods.

delirium

this is exactly what i wanted to avoid. time between my blogs.

after a week of soul searching, i find myself feeling more adult, more crazy, less composed, more direct, more afraid, more unsure about some things, less unsure about other things . .

when the concept of forever sneaks up behind you, even if you had it in the back of your mind anyway, it can be unnerving.

as i paragraph away through my blog with vague tidbits, just so you know, not everyone knows, and so hey, you know me and privacy.

the fact that magic i have felt and magic i have lost may be lost forever is deafening to my musical life. the fact that "the hourglass is glued to the table" . . well that may just frighten me into mediocrity and dullness. or it may frighten me into excitement and incompatibility.

when there are moments when emotions are so overwhelming that i can't think straight that the difficult moments of my life topple over each other and spill out of my ears and nose and mouth. . and my eyes are so flooded with bad decisions, with neurotic over analyzing, with a barrel of issues that make me incapable of acting like a normal person . . . when there are moments like that . . thats when i find out what i'm made of. in the past, normally for me, i run. maybe not physically, but sometimes yes. mainly i mentally detach, and i run away from any closeness. that detachment has been my blanket, my coping mechanism so the flooding stops, so i can preserve myself and all i have worked hard to become.

the more i thought about how i wanted my life to be, the more i felt i wanted to keep improving and even if i cant master everything, i'd like to keep moving forward. i want to be happy with what i have. i am happy with what i have. but my mind is something that i can't ever find it in my heart to leash. it resembles a wild boar, or a floating leaf, or a gladiator, or jack bauer, or p diddy, something that can't be harnessed or held down for long and longs to move forward and seek out its destiny.

my thoughts about destiny may be a future topic, i cant gather them at the moment.

i want my life to be hard, intellectual (hopefully not pretentious . . but sometimes it seems they do overlap), hilarious, and most of all full of feeling. feelings in my stomach, feelings in my chest. stirring all kinds of weirdness. the absence of stirration is a bad sign.

i have great friends and if i couldnt vent and process with them at the end of the day about my insecurities about the ticking clock, the enmeshed family and the exotic characters in my life . . . well . . i think i'd flood myself to delirium.