Tag Archives: connected

Feb 14 2015
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Diary

Happiness

I’m happy.

Life has arranged itself into what I want it to be; and I feel like I manipulated a good chunk of my life in the right ways these past few years. I must admit, however, I didn’t know I would be here… where ever here is.

I think about death a lot, too. I feel like death is this gift I keep in my pocket to keep my perspective aligned because there is this world outside of myself that pulls on perspective. I’m fortunate that I don’t have to be punctual at work (as long as I get my work done), because it allows me time to bond with my partner… those extra minutes are important. Why should I have to wait to say what I want to say before seeing her again?

I don’t have a lot: I would rather have less than more, and I would rather be homeless and working odd jobs than find myself tethered to the acquizition of things, or be in a position where I could acquire a bunch of things. The thought of homelessness scares the shift out of me, but it also has an appeal… I could be the quintisential dirtbag like Fred Beckey, except it would be in my craft.

And can’t help but think of the misguided dreams fostered by people that have “made-it” as they’re talking to a crowd dreaming of fame and wealth. I think the true success stories are of those that are doing what they want to do. If the fame and wealth overlaps, then that is fine, but I think fame and wealth as a goal is a miserable goal.

I have a happy little life. And though I sit on my chair and think and write, I feel like I have come to understand the language of the birds anyway…

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Dec 17 2014
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Diary

The Quiet Away From People

I deleted my facebook account some time ago. Consequently, I went to other social media sites to stay “connected” through information. The funny thing is that those other social media sites are starting to seem just as inane when you see personas instead of people. You can’t connect with a persona in any other way than something schizophrenic, which is the most insincere form of connection. Knowing the self is hard enough when you are alone. Then, when you enter into a dynamic with other poeple, your self is changed, and that self is further changed when someone turns the screw of their personality and makes it a persona. Eventually, the lies told are believed by the liar, and then by everyone else.

I like being alone. I think being alone cuts down on the extraneous mental noise from other people. If everyone is, in a sense, a brand, then I have turned down the advertisements. I sometimes think the advertisements that inundate our lives are just as toxic as the air on a smoggy day; and, like the air, the smog obfuscates my ability to see clearly. I suppose the question arises how the information in the world influences us and how it is used to hide stuff from us while exposing us to something “preferred.” Furthermore, isn’t an advertisement just repeated information aimed at drilling itself into your psyche to get us to act in a certain way? I surmise people aren’t that different from a billboard you pass on the street in how they affect you in the long run. We are nuggets of information after all.

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