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Well, I told myself I was going to keep doing this every few days, and it looks like its that time. Unfortunately, the past several days have been pretty quiet for me lately. It is like one of those moments with a literary quality to it, where you know someone has just about reached a point where their demise is inevitable, and everyone involved is silent; trying to keep distracted. Scenarios play out over and over in the mind, as they try to hold on to the slim hope that things will end up ok.

Tranquility has an unspoken viciousness to it. There’s always hope though. Maybe next time I’ll have more to say.

I HATE CBS! – Why CBS is a worse television network than Lifetime and MTV

Ok, so I’m a little perturbed going into this, because I just wasted 15 minutes on CBS.com, verifying what I already knew. I can’t stand the CBS Television Network. To me, it represents pretty much everything that is wrong with the mixture of art and entertainment that truly good TV represents to me. I will say off the bat– I don’t watch any CBS programming, though I have seen a number of their popular primetime shows once or twice each due to the fact that my parents are saps and dupe themselves into watching such unoriginal crap.

The primetime programming schedule for CBS is a minefield of crime dramas, except I’m not talking about a minefield in the real sense that you could walk and widely spread about are explosives that could unwittingly shuttle your leg off. I’m talking like the game, Minesweeper, on the hardest setting and largest board– the one where every 9 out of 10 clicks blows that yellow smiley face dude into a separate orbit. Basically, it blows. Now, generally, I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt here. I mean, who doesn’t like some good crime drama? As a genre it has produced plenty of classics in all sorts of mediums. Heck, even The Dark Knight was a crime drama at heart. Honestly though, what kind of suicide is it to just rehash the same concept over. Instead of a metropolitan homicide team, let’s switch it with an FBI detective and a mathematical savant. Instead of Lieutenant Dan from Forrest Gump, let’s do the same thing in a different city.. and we can throw in Morpheus from the Matrix! That’ll be cool!

I am reminded of Will Ferrell’s movie career. Now, I think Will Ferrell is awesome, and a very funny man. He has a lot of talent at what he does, but I don’t think anyone is going to deny that a lot of his movies are the same thing masked under a different costume. Forming a loosely constructed premise and plot outline then fueling a lot of the scenes with a strong influx of improv produces a lot of memorable and funny scenes, coupled with plenty of outrageousness, but I don’t think that I’m the only one who has a certain tolerance for it before it loses some of its luster, and there is no coincidence that he had a string of movies that were so highly similar to the other, just with an applied formula. Here is the thing, is it any coincidence that Anchorman is the most quoted and well-known of all of those? It was pretty much the first that truly had the Will Ferrell signature style to it. Maybe it is just better than the others, but it at least begs the question, how much of its success over the others can be attributed to the fact that it was the first to do it?– that when Anchorman came out, the style was at its peak ripeness?

Of course CBS proves me wrong. Dead wrong. Not only are there about 80 different crime drama’s in CBS’ lineup, there are 3 different CSI’s and one CSI crossover, and two NCISes (let’s not forget the fact that Survivor is hitting its bicentennial soon). To top it all off, these shows dominate the ratings. There are a lot of problems I have with all this. For one, it is just plain lazy. Why is imagination so thoroughly punished in our society? I am not saying it always is, but every time I come home at some point I have to sit through at least 5 minutes of one of these trite shows. Of course I never realize that it is a different show, but hey, these shows are all they watch so they are doing something right; exploiting (the elderly).

I think my largest grievance comes from the fact that so many great TV Shows end up overlooked and die off prematurely because by following the same cultural tendencies that music, movies and even best-selling books also follow. We are flooded with a drought– a drought of imagination. We get the same boxes in different wrapping paper every day, every week, every month, every year. You would think that they would occasionally take a risk, at least. For instance, I have never watched Dexter (I plan on it at some point), but I hear a lot about it. From what I can tell, even if I end up not liking it, it is a show that takes crime drama elements and at least incorporates some creativity. I’m not going to look this up, so hopefully I’m not blatantly wrong, but the fact that the main character plays the role of good guy while carrying many elements of a ‘bad guy’ isn’t even light years beyond what we could ever expect to see out of CBS and their plastic bubble-wrap brains, it is in an entirely different universe.

I think this is a good segue too, because I have tons of respect for a show like Dexter– even if I’ve never seen it. To me, it represents a lot of what great TV is supposed to do. It entertains for one. It takes this broad concept (I don’t want to really say genre even) and hones in on it, while adding its unique elements that give the show plenty of space to flesh out the whole premise and also develop it further. Furthermore, it introduces something a little deeper. We have these huge moral implications. You have a forensics dude who is a serial killer of criminals on the side– heck its even ironic. The complexity is almost unavoidable. There will always be various struggles, and I feel like the opportunities to occasionally make the viewer wrestle with the actions, decisions and morality of the characters in the show (specifically main character) and not have it so plainly be this concept of “a criminal did something bad, let’s figure it out, let’s make things right” — because it isn’t that simple. I mean, shoot, this type of stuff has worked in literature and theater since their beginnings.

This isn’t to say that all these other crime dramas have never done this on some level. I’ve seen enough episodes of Law and Order to remember an episode or so that does some highlighting on the fact that our justice system is far from perfect and carries many flaws, but how much room do these shows have? This brings me back to my point. I don’t think that it is necessarily TVs role to really make the viewer work on levels far beyond just watching characters and a plot unfold, because for one there is less investment into each installation in every aspect (time, writing, budget, acting, etc.) than say, film, but on the other hand it is a much more drawn out experience. Because of the stretched out nature, the complexities should be stretched out; thinner or perhaps a more shallow implementation, because of the fact that this element in media are really hard to get right, and because historically, I feel like TV has never been there so much to challenge us as viewers, but more than anything to provide us convenient outlets, escapes and other worlds we can visit for 30 to 60 minutes at a time once a week. There is still a concept of art behind it though, and it is robbery to the masses to just purely entertain; or as I said earlier, it is exploitation.

Of course, you could easily say I’m completely wrong and proven wrong on an empirical level considering how many shows that have really had a lot of balance between the average responsibilities of a TV show and something more for its audience to get involved in have tanked early. Times might be changing, but we are still under the tyranny of unwarranted success. The most financially successful movies, TV shows and music still has a great tendency to be assembly line crap (in terms of imagination, creativity and depth), and gosh, even I have a few piles of crap that I love, but this is just a joke that will always be over my head– I just don’t understand how millions of people continually support and encourage a network like CBS. They seriously have 5 1/2 versions of 2 shows.

Oh yeah– Two and a Half Men SUCKS– but at least most sitcoms these days have ditched the 20th century.

Unfortunately..

Man, this is kind of a bummer. Unfortunately, I had figured that I would get some downtime tonight, after the past two days I was able to stay pretty busy. So I figured I’d stamp some more words down. I had wanted to talk about some stuff I had thought a lot about this past semester, which relates to various things arts and entertainment; most likely TV, film or music related. Instead, I find that I can’t really focus on a thought long enough to reach the end of its trail.

So while it really pisses me off that I have to, it looks like I need to address these other things once and get it out of the way. I don’t like writing so introspectively all the time, especially when it is more down. I don’t even like carrying the portrayal as someone being down or anything. I’m not going to lie, I’ve had a lot of times in my personal life the last year to year and a half that adequately called for feeling down as a response. At the same time, I don’t think I ever lost my ability to be ‘up’ during most of my worst moments. I mean, who wants to be around someone who is down all the time? Granted, I think that, hopefully, we all have a high level of compassion that is going to draw us to people during those times, but it usually isn’t fun.

I think my dad summed it up best one night durign a conversation we had over the Internet. I can’t remember the details on this, but he was about go to sleep and was just checking in on me and I made some remark that made him crack up and he said something along the lines, “at least you never lost your sense of humor through everything.” First off, to be honest, I’m thrilled that I talk to my dad via the Internet probably over every othr mode of communication (unless I’m home), because there is nothing weird about it. My parents on facebook and what not crack me up, and it is easy to mess with their heads on there. Second, I think that only reaffirms what I was saying a second ago, and if I am going to be writing, I don’t want my writing to reflect that. Overall, I still love to laugh and have a good time probably above all other things, even if I’m feeling below plankton on the food chain, I’d like to think that at least for moments I can shake things off and enjoy things.. well, worth enjoying.

As of right now though, I can’t deny my introspective nature, nor the fact that I often feel down lately. But what else could be expected? This is probably the point where I end up writing things that get me into some sort of trouble, but that’s ok, not that I’m intending to get into any trouble, but who wants to live without any risks anyway?– we all know TV is better without the FCC.

My girlfriend of about two years, the very lovely Kara Seale, and I decided to take a break recently, colliding perfectly with winter break starting. I think when I put it that way it probably sounds more mutual than it is, because it is probably 99% me on that and the 1% which consists of her being supportive and loving as opposed to my irrationality, stupidity, insensitivity and selfishness. Nothing associated with this decision is easy, I am starting to become more affirmed as each day hits that it really was necessary though– not that I wanted it to be or ever would have.

In summation, it has really sucked. I’m not used to being this lonely. I’m not used to having this much free time. I’m not used to doing whatever and not having to being guaranteed to have to consider the impact my decision making has on another person. So what do we have? This odd mix of extreme liberation and sadness. It probably couldn’t have happened at a worse time though!

Let’s just pick up with some truths that have developed for me over the past 1 1/2 years. For one– and I really realize and accept this now more than ever– I have undergone a complete social minimalization. As with most relationships, I think some shrinking is expected in that regard, but I’m saying minimalization here because it has come that far. Let me preface real quick and say that this effect was never intentional on anyone’s part, I know that the course of life ultimately dictated it. It kind of reminds me of the spine. I saw this thing on TV a few months ago about tall people. There was this English guy who was 7 feet and some change. His whole life he was self-conscious about how tall he was and hunched over a lot to compensate for it in terms of how he saw himself. After spending a lifetime hunched over, he pretty much screwed his whole back over and shrunk some. It also turns out that even without the messed up spine, he wasn’t 7’5 like he thought, but only 6’11 if you round up– how you are so far off on your measurements is beyond me (and one of the funniest moments I’ve ever seen on TV HAHAHA..). Spines are just like that, if it is twisted, contorted and scrunched up for so long, it is so difficult to reverse it, the only chance is really to take drastic measures.

I guess that is where I ended up. As of right now, I am pretty much beginning to conclude that the structure of the relationship was strained because of lot of weight put on it for so long that it is really a lot to expect to be able to fix things from the inside. I’m not saying that can’t or couldn’t be done, I’m sure it could, but at the same time, to do it that way– surely over a long period of time puts a strain on both people. It could definitely do a lot more damage than just the structure.

Anyway, those are only some thoughts I’m beginning to really muddle through so far, but that’s not even what I’m wanting to get at right now. I was mentioning the collusion with this break– or whatever in the world it could be labeled– with the semester ending. For me, taking out school also took out one of the largest social aspects I had going for me, and it makes me sad. Granted, school and especially classes isn’t really a big social outing for me, nor would I expect it to be, but it was a forced social entry along with just carrying a lot of atmospheric social elements.

Let me expand on that real quick.

Right now, its 10:30 at night and I’m sitting on a futon with a laptop and a dog that needs a bath in complete solitude and silence. There is nobody around at all– not proportionately speaking. Most people have already gone home. Then you have people who are around.. they are all busy. For instance, my roommate is hanging out with his frat buddies right now, and I’m sure that most people I have had any sort of interaction with the last few weeks have something going on. Though there is a small voluntary aspect to where I am tonight, it really highlights that while I have been undergoing a social minimization for a long time, most people have been establishing and/or building on top of previous friendships that entire time. So I am now injected into a situation where to get any social interaction requires a direct effort and also the resources in terms of connections. I’m definitely very thin on the resources. This makes the effort even harder. It doesn’t make much difference how well I know the person or people, to extend myself and express any sort of sociality causes me to feel somewhat insecure about it. I guess I’m just not used to it anymore.

Let’s backtrack real quick. When I first entered college, my first roommate was Josh ‘Big Cheese’ Homer. This is a man who I’m fortunate enough to regard as a brother, and one thing about Cheese is he is an extremely social guy. On campus he was always a legendary social figure, I mean, I don’t think that in the history of Belmont you could really choose anyone who exceeds him in this aspect. My following two roommates really aren’t slouches socially either. Biddle is highly involved and Horse gets the respect of everyone he meets pretty much (except me). Just in this regard, it would have been impossible to go through school so far without a strong link to a very active social life– or at least a broad one. For two years it was certainly like that.

I would never regard myself as a social giant, but I think I usually peak around to a point where I have at least strong acquaintance status with more people than I can keep tabs on. Anytime I go back to my high school in some sort of function (ie to see how the basketball team is looking in any given year or graduation), I always spend a ton of my time getting a little bit of face time with most people I run into (of course it is hard to not know everyone when you go to a small school). I never had any sort of social minimalization in high school. Granted, my senior year I had some tendencies to try and disconnect myself from most everyone, but it didn’t have any drastic effects. Just from mid-point sophomore year to mid-point junior year I had a drastic difference. Even the difference from the present to the beginning of junior year is not unlike the difference between a millionaire to some high school punk working for minimum wage at McDonalds when it comes to friends– whether the inner circle or the loosest use of the term ‘friends’ (most loose?). I think that I am seeking a reboot of sorts in this regard, but it is harder than ever.

If I had to try and make an objective assessment on myself, which is impossible, I’d say that at my social peak I can be a pretty entertaining and funny person. On a side note, it always usually depends on how well I know who I’m around, I think subconsciously I spend a lot of time gauging people and probing around to figure out what their personalities respond to, which is why it can take a long time for me to warm up to people I don’t know that well. I mean, I just think a lot of really good times I had over the years– in big crowds or in smaller and varied groups of people. I have faint memories of this person who once existed.

It is hard for me to speak these days, even with people who have remained closer friends to me through all my losses. I know why this is better than I ever have. It doesn’t matter the context, whenever there is some sort of interaction between me and at least one other person I am always questioning myself.

“What would I have said or done in the past in this case?”

I never come up with anything satisfying.

Instead, I just get locked up in my thought. I remain pretty quiet. I often throw out ‘white flag’ responses that act as a form of self-surrender. It is really frustrating. I know who I was, but I don’t know where he ran off to.  There is a large part of me missing and I’m longing for that, yet there is little I can do to put myself out there right now and try and rediscover my sorely missed self. So I get stuck wallowing, feeling bad for what I’ve done, missing what I’ve, for now, given up, and facebooking too much, ha.

I have always had a weird rift of being my mom and dad’s son. It has worked out real well for me, especially once I started to understand how to take advantage of it. My dad is more prone to be quiet (he isn’t a quiet guy by any means though). He gets sucked into his passions, for him that is music mainly. He has to recharge or build up to go and be overly social. My mom feeds off of what sucks the life out of my dad. She loves to enjoy life with other people, and she loves being entertaining. This is over simplifying it, but these are two ideas that apply to me directly. I haven’t gotten in touch with my “inner mom” for a long time. I think a lot of it is not being limited either. Socially, I know I need variables of uncertainty or at least inconsistency to really have something to feed off of; something to drive me, yet at the same time I need to be able to rely on that tight circle I’ve always had. Working on that inner circle is a lot easier, which leaves me longing for the uncertainty a lot more. I’ve no way to connect with it though.

I’ll probably start summing it up here, because honestly, nobody is really going to read it anyway, and the couple friends and one random person per century who do deserve the courtesy to not have to drag their eyes through miles of word hiking. I don’t want to give off the impression that I’m starting to be affirmed that this break is something that at least I needed for purely social aspects because it is so much more.

What I need to affirm is that this social aspect is the one that is clearly taking the largest toll on me right now, making progress on many of the other aspects has been quick and fulfilling (though they still have a good ways to go too).

This stuff is definitely hard, but I have always welcomed a challenge.

I have realized, or rather remembered, that socially, I am about as welcoming as it comes. Even if it takes me a long time to get in sync with new people, I am always looking for that opportunity just to get to know somebody at least a little bit.

Welcome, friends. My name is James, it is good to meet you.

Tyrannical Dreams

I’m not sure I’ve ever had the same dream more than once. Instead, I’ve had dreams set in the same world or environment, in fact, it is a pretty regular occurrence. Sometimes I like to think of my dreamscape in the same vein as a video game like Zelda (this concept applies to a ton of games), where you have this massive world and it is divided up in to these very distinct and pronounced regions; each with their own separate titles. There is almost a certain reputation associated with each one. As far as the universe I’ve constructed in my dreams, it is an environment that puts such a world you might find in one of the Zelda games into a molecular perspective. With that said, when I have dreams set in these very similar settings, I feel like I’m just in a different region of my dreamiverse.

For instance, I have one series of dreams that has a few defining traits. The biggest player in all of it is the nighttime setting. There is no concept of day, it is a very dark world, the only light is provided from the dim orange glow of street lights and sometimes houses. This leads into another dominant aspect; it is predominantly set in a large suburban neighborhood. Most of the time it is specifically modeled after a neighborhood of one of my best friends– a place where I spent a lot of very memorable times in my childhood. There are two other major characteristics I can identify off the bat too.

First is the concept of powerlines. In a visual sense, they are always of great importance. The angling of visuals in my dreams is often from an elevated view, one that is often high enough to be looking down from power lines, but I also can recall a lot of visuals of just random cut aways to looking up into the night sky as the dimmed grey clouds speed by, sometimes revealing the ruler of this nightened world– the full moon. Finally, and probably most distinctly to me is the presence of what I’d call vampiric creatures.

These aren’t actual vampires I’m talking about, but if you look at characteristics of the fiction of vampire folklore throughout history some of these things are consistent. Also, when I say creatures it is important to note that that they are essentially human in their cognizance and existence, but they represent a more ascendant and powerful figure above what we typically see as humans. In all my dreams in this setting, I’ve never figured out if they were predatory of just observational, but in this vast, dark neighborhood they often scour on the power lines prowling about, camouflaged with the night sky in excessively long black-caped cloaks. They fly about from street light to street light and are seemingly incapable of making a sound. In particular, there is one that tends to be dominant in these dreams, a female of this species who has often given me very uneasy feelings in my dreams– sometimes even terror.

I’ve had dreams in this setting that have led me to going to an absurdly massive neighborhood pool that was packed, wandering around the same block in my lonesome in an endless cycle as I was stalked by the vampiric creatures, a set of dreams that revolved around safely traveling to a caged outdoor basketball court, one where I took refuge in a basement maze that connected my friends house to their neighborhoods, and probably the one that I remember the best: the one where another street wandering leads me to an entire section of the neighborhood that has been engulfed in a cornfield. People’s yards and houses vanished into this small country of corn, except for one house that was a little bit off center in the maze, as a family sat in rocking chairs on the porch in the distance. When I managed my way to the house it was vacated.

What I’m getting at is less a dream recollection, but really the emphasis that when I dream, while a lot happens and there is a very powerful audio/visual presence in my dreams, I believe the most prevalent effect to be an emotional one. Maybe not emotional in the watered down version we know in our consciousness– anger, sadness, happiness, love, etc.– but the more abstract sense of feeling. Just as I, and probably everyone dreams things that are to bizarre for reality, the feelings I dream are the same. I dream feelings that I could never hope to describe or articulate into any form outside of just feeling them.

Even further, if I dream, I usually can remember most of it if I put the effort into it. Though, if I do it takes a long time. If I recall a dream and even go as far to write it out, it usually takes at least an hour to go through the entire thing. The feelings are different. I never have to make an effort, but I almost always remember the feelings I experience. I can think to a dream I remember and I.. feel how I remembered feeling when I dreamt it. It works in reverse too. I think of a feeling I remember having in a dream and I can remember the dream in a very distant sense. Kind of like seeing a painting at a distance that barely makes itself aware to the eye. While with recalling the occurrences it is kind of like knowing the answer on a test but not being able to bring the information out.

Now, when I brought up this suburban night world dreamscape I specifically wanted to point it out because the dreams tend to be rather unpleasant. They really aren’t good dreams at all. I don’t wake up from them and feel good. I wake up from them and if I have the time to soak it in and ease back into reality, I feel like I’m in desolation. A kind of dream that can make my mind take a vacation from the immediacy of reality for hours– I don’t know if other people have them that often, but I’d hope that you’d know what I’m talking about. Most of the feelings I have from these dreams have flavors of terror in these highly abstracted and complex feelings, yet here is the caveat: I love these dreams. If I had a choice, I’d take living in a world like this one that I dream than the reality I know. I think I can live with admitting this because it is simply impossible and will never actually happen. I enjoy my dreams better than reality. It is the only redeeming quality of sleep. The more I learn about my own dreams though, I realize it isn’t just these super surreal settings and scenarios that are so addicting, though they are, but these feelings may be the greatest draw of all. The combined effect of all of this leads to the essence of what dreams are to me. These things you end up aspiring for, but in this case can’t have.

Let me quickly note that I’m not trying to give reality a diminutive quality, but just that dreams are addicting because, well.. I think I’m about to get in part of why I’m thinking they are.

I remember when I was a lot younger, reading up on lucid dreaming. I think there was maybe one time up to that point where I had realized I was dreaming but didn’t wake up, but it was very short-lived. Apparently you can condition or train yourself to have a greater propensity to dream lucidly, or become aware you’re dreaming. Who knows how much legit backing there is to this idea, but I did try it for a few weeks in my teens one summer, and it definitely seemed to work. Funny thing is,  for the most part I always decided to fly and not do much else in these instance, and I never woke up feeling rested. But given this concept, then if you have awareness that you’re dreaming while you’re dreaming, then you are gaining control of a world that nearly has the perception of reality on pretty much all the senses. That’s a pretty powerful thing to consider.

Just thinking about this a little bit really leads me to believe that a lot of why I really have an addiction to dreaming and visiting all these worlds my subconscious has constructed is because I am in control in some sense. I can’t help it that living in a world where Stevie Wonder drives an ice cream truck and sings with joy about killing one of my best friends as he makes constant attempted to obliterate him with his ice cream truck, ultimately leading to us sprinting into the back of his truck which is, in turn, a cafeteria with marble floors and tables that is at least a mile wide is more interesting than waking up every day and going to school, doing the same actions and hobbies on a regular basis, seeing the same faces, interacting with the same things and abiding by the same universal principles.

It is a dynamic escape, an unpredictable and fresh adventure each time. One that provides experiences, sights, sounds, events and feelings that we rarely get in our everyday lives (though there are definitely things that reach and exceed this standard in reality, they are rare events). Though, sometimes I think this represents the tyrannical self. In a physical sense, my body, my mind and so on is generating these dreams. On some level I want to feel and experience what I dream, or else I wouldn’t really dream them. I mean, I like having terrible dreams from time to time because the powerfully intoxicating feelings they give me when I wake up. And I know that I have some sort of preference to my so called dreamscape than what can sometimes be a mundane and limited reality.. so is there some sort of latent desire for a self-generated tyranny? I suppose so, as I have the gall to even think that a world that is heavily influence and even constructed by myself is better than the one I live in. Pretty selfish really.

Good thing they’re just dreams though, right?

Back to zero

Well, I’ve had this hunger to start writing again for a few weeks now. In the past few days it has swelled out of control and feels insatiable, but unfortunately I haven’t had the time until a time just slightly before now– and that time I filled with nothingness and space instead.

There is no empty space left inside my head at the moment though, so its time to call the movers and start unpacking. This is where the count begins, starting from zero. You know, that is a phrase that I’m essentially borrowing from Fight Club, or I guess more of a concept. In the movie there is always this talk of starting over– back from zero. In that case it is resetting the financial system and ultimately society, whereas for me, it is more like resetting my archive of thoughts, the historical remnants of myself, my entire identity. I guess I should take a couple steps back real quick. I used to have a blog, if that’s what you want to call it. It still exists. I have decided to retire it though. Just thinking back on it, it really pulls me back to what now feels like a more trivial life, though I’m sure that if I am going to assert that now that when I’m 28 I could easily end up saying the same thing about when I was 23. Point being, that I am a different person now. Though shaped by who I was back then when I really used it (mainly 17-19 or 20 years old), I am a uniquely different shape than what I once was. Thus, I feel like I should detach from that former and let the past sit as a reminder.

So here we are– on the new blog. You know what? I don’t even really like the concept of blogging. I don’t like journaling either. I do like writing though. I like writing with relevancy to my life and I like writing in exploration of thought. Sometimes I like to write more creatively, but essentially, I thought to myself, well why do I like writing on the ‘blog’ medium? Given the fact that I don’t like the concept or word blog, I came to realize that I like how I am able to write in this format. With a journal, I feel like you’re writing to yourself. Heck, you could write using whatever person and plurality you want, but you’re still just writing to yourself. In this format, I can write to an audience. The audience doesn’t actually have to exist, but just the concept that there could be an audience means I’m writing to an audience. I like writing to an audience. On top of this, I see writing to be the peak of thought’s complexity and clarity. With my mind, I need to write.

Anyway, so I’m back to zero with the whole writing and blog concept, but as of very recently, I’ve began to wonder if I am headed that way in terms of my self; who I am. If I think back, I guess I could identify a few, but probably not all, times where I have started over back at zero. Birth, obviously one; anytime a kid enters school that is a given– when I entered Fairview High School when I was 16 (almost 17) after homeschooling 9th and 10th grade would be another example. My first two years at Belmont were another instance, and quite a process. I guess I should first admit, I don’t know if I really am hitting this sort of resetting or not, and that is part of why I’m feeling the need to write about it.

A week or so ago, the concept was non-existent to me. Actually, I feel like the past month or two has been an internal renaissance. After a long and hard year (but let me note still a very blessed one), I felt like I was breathing fresh air. After taking solace in listlessness and apathy, I noticed that my steps were propelled by hints of motivation and ambition. After being holed up in a small box of a world, I had opened my eyes to a much greater ambience. I wanted to saturate it. I wanted to fill all the little holes and corners I had disappeared from or overlooked. I felt like getting out there and proving myself, whether it be in things that I had formerly gained reputation in or new challenges I could create myself– and for the first time in a long time it all felt possible. I really felt great.

Slip down the time line to what is pretty much the present and I’ve lost that empowering feeling of excitement, but I’m still feeling as motivated as ever. There is something just off with me, or at least that is what is in question. Is the something really off with me? I guess I have certain behaviors and tendencies that I have displayed the past week, maybe two, that indicate that there is something stirring within myself. And I apologize for the highly ambiguous and general tone of things, but I guess that having things brought to my attention, about myself, that I didn’t notice has led me to really try and figure myself out for the past few days. There is nobody who confuses me more than myself; what an inescapable maze I am.

It’s been a long month. I’ve tried harder in school than I have in a long time, but not only have I put earnest effort in, but I’ve sustained it for the longest period since 6th or 7th grade. Usually I just give a small percent of effort and come out pretty well, but where I would usually just tell myself, “I know this is all I need to meet standards,” I’ve kept working. I’ve toiled and tumbled with writing the smallest assignments, over researched topics until I get tangled up in the vast amount of information I have (and probably cause some harm to the quality of my work in the process)– ok, I’m boring myself here. Point being, I’ve been consumed for a pretty long time– given my propensity for laziness, that is (and school is the largest factor). So what I’m getting at is everything could easily be attributed the this sustained sprint, but is it really?

As of right now I’m very uncertain about myself. I’m wondering if I could be at risk for being in denial that I’m undergoing a rapid internal shake-up, but here’s the thing: I have no idea what could have prompted such a thing. See the problem? How can I identify whether or not I really have been entering a phase of internal change if I can’t link anything or any series of things to this. I suppose that if I assumed I was, the only thing that could come close to a catalyst would be this personal renaissance I mentioned earlier, but that just seems to broad and unnecessary.

If I just sit down and try to think I only end up feeling. I feel like a risk. I don’t know how I feel about that feeling. I don’t think I’m in a position in my personal life to be a risk of any sort. I’m starting to feel like I’m turning into a misrepresentation. I feel certain ways. I know the things and people I care about. I know where my love is directed. I am wholly thankful for the bonds I currently have, yet as has been revealed to me, I’m not representing that very well lately. I’m just a misrepresentation. What am I misrepresenting? Am I misrepresenting myself to all of these connections? Am I misrepresenting myself to.. myself? I guess I don’t have a clue.

I’ve become a great danger to the ones I love. I’m purely kryptonic to the ones who love me. I can’t say I’m sure what is going to happen, in the meantime my immediate struggle is figure out if and/or what is going on within myself, yet the caveat is, I can’t afford myself that time.

Because until then I’m just a danger..