Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Full of It

I am just full of plans that never come to fruition. I was initially planning on seeing the film "Her" at the Crest on Monday night, but that fell through. Then I thought that I had a dinner companion for last night, but I missed out on that too. As John Lennon once sang, "Life is what happens while your busy making other plans."

There is a mere 23 minutes left to my shift. I wish I had something planned for tonight, but tonight is a big empty. The rain has been sliding down from the sky all day, so the sunshine will not be there when I leave tonight. Ah well....plans are made to be broken, but I wish relationships were not made to be broken. I am without a doubt a struggling imperfect human being.

Sometimes

Sometimes one must sacrifice literature for the pangs of hunger. For the first time in my bookselling career, I am going to trade some books in for cash. Going an eight hour shift without anything to eat is silly, and I wasn't too happy with the state of my mind last night. So today, I will trade in enough for lunch and maybe have a little left over for a cookie. I got myself into this predicament, so I'll get myself out.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Dinner

I should have know that Coke doesn't make for a very filling meal. Visions of the one burrito sitting in the freezer at home are dancing in my head. If it's still there. Of course, one tiny bean & cheese burrito won't cut it, so I'll have to scrounge something up, like a grilled cheese and soup. It's no fun being lightheaded due to hunger. I'd much rather be lightheaded for other reasons....or even lighthearted.

Old Dogs

I'm a firm believer that you can teach an old dog new tricks, but try to get an old dog to stop growling at people, and you will not have any luck. Genetics or environment: Which one has the greater impact on me being an asshole for life?

I really wish I had the option of seeing my behavior objectively, but I'd probably be horrified. I have a terrible poker face. Sadness and anger are always in clear view. I beat myself up for being lonely, but then I'm not proactive enough to actually make new friends. I wallow in my decades old depression, rather than creating a life that is new and different...and maybe not so hurtful to those close to me.

Fifty-two years old, and I'm don't see that I've progressed as a human being very much. Granted, being a human is the toughest task I've ever faced. I thought I was up for it. I joined the military at seventeen. I traveled across the country a few times, and ventured to Europe and South America. But in all those past journeys, I have evidently not improved my worth as a person; as a compassionate human being. Beating my self up is just a vain act meant to assuage my own feelings of guilt.

There are plenty of good reasons that I have not found success in life, whether is be through writing or high technology. Lack of confidence and self-esteem are always major factors, but the inability to see beyond the horizon and make the necessary adjustments; the seeming lack of emotional control and direction.

I want to shed some tears, but they would only be for me. Tears in the dark are only wet. The methods I used to utilize to keep myself stable are long gone. I still use weed to de-stress, but I don't take my walking, or conscientiousness very seriously.  I'm full of good intentions, but I'm also full of shit.

The important item in all of this shitty mess, is that I am not intentionally cruel or malicious. That would make me a psychopath/sociopath, and I don't think I'm criminally insane. I honestly feel that I have good intentions, but then something triggers my deep-seated hurts and I lash out like a animal in a steel trap.
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Well, another Tuesday and I managed to scratch out another blog post. I'm not going to bother to post a link to this one on Facebook, because this is a post that some of my FB peeps may not understand, not that they shouldn't read it. It's just that they would be reading it without context. 

It's still sunny outside, so I guess the walk will be pleasant. I'm missing someone terribly today though, and that feeling was brought on by my own actions. I wish I knew how to turn back time to a certain day at Half-Price Books, and had the ability to start things over, but I only have today, and I don't even have the morning left anymore! I best get to work and try to put some good books into reader's hands.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Some Sun Sometimes

Today is a full-fledged spring day. I would need to put sun screen on, if I was going to lounge under today's sunny rays. Of course, I am due to walk to work in about a half hour. I'll only be able to enjoy the sun through the bookstore's windows, and through customer's comments: "Oh, it so beautiful out there! You should get out in it if you can!"

I finished reading Seeing Red last night. As with most books on consciousness, comprehending it is like trying to grasp mercury. Perception vs. sensation. That was the gist of it. Also, that smudge of time again. The fact that we don't experience things as they happen is a tough fact to understand, but the fact is that our past overlaps slightly with our present, as does our future. We live in a smudge of time, which helps us to use our consciousness to reflect on this amazing world.

So next in the reading queue is Blood Will Out by Walter Kirn. It's considered a true crime book, but --from what I've heard -- it ends up being more about Kirn and his constant craving for a higher status in society. His contact with Clark Rockefeller was yet another one of those attempts. Kirn will be reading at the bookstore in our Pub Series, and it can't hurt to read his book ahead of time. The only other thing that I read by him was Thumbsucker, which was quite good. I have avoided seeing the film version of Up in the Air, because I want to read the book first.

I'm trying to make this Tuesday morning post a habit. Sometimes the task is finding things to write about. Oh, I could rant and whine all day long about what irks me in life, but I wouldn't foist that on anyone voluntarily. The amount of "news" that I take in these day is miniscule compared to how I used to soak up information. After the Bush years, I just decided that spending time fretting about world events that I have no control over will just put me in an early grave.

The same goes for religion, as much as I despise the tradition of religion being used to control the subservient masses. These little clubs of fantasists should really be taxed, and they shouldn't be exempt from criticism. But these are my feelings and they are not necessarily shared by the people I know, no matter how much they may care about me. My biases are entirely subjective and I shouldn't hold others responsible for the anger I have built up over the years due to the widespread ignorance I see around me. That being said,............

The sun is still shining. No sudden claps of thunder to prompt us to jump out of our skins. No hail intending dents on various car hoods. The birds are happy, because the insects have woken up. "Food!" And I have 45 minutes until I have to "clock in." Forty five minutes to make believe that I can stay ensconced on my sun-warmed deck, and read, read, read. Life wouldn't be half the fun without my mind.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

When Your Tuesday is Your Monday

The only downside to coming off a three-day-weekend is the prospect of now having to work five days straight. Will there be a nervous breakdown at the end of the week? Probably not. The sun has left and took its sunshine with it. Actually, the sun is still up there somewhere. There is just this thick cottony layer of grey between its warmth and us humans here down below.

It's a Tuesday, which sometimes -- like today -- means having the spare time to write down some nonsense words, throw in some periods and commas, and then call it a blog post. Today is not much different from any other day in my history. I'm filled with unfulfilled passions and desires. I blame work for being in the way of having fun, but truly I am my own worst enemy when it comes to contentment. I've had many opportunities over the years to make different choices, but I'm living with the choices I made and there is no turning back.

I must start to come to terms with the fact that I am veering into my mid-fifties. There is not much time left for this old dog to learn anything new. Well, there is always time to learn something new, but as one ages habits -- bad or good -- become cemented behavior. My mind may dream of being Mr. Zen, but my reality is an anxiety-ridden, unhappy man, who yearns to be in a state of happy solitude, while also desiring the comfort of a close loving friend. The old Yin and Yang of life with all its attendant peaks and valleys.

When I look back through my writings over the years, I discern certain common themes. Freedom is a big theme: my yearning for it, but at the same time trying to define the term "freedom" as more than just a wonderful concept. I have never truly felt free enough to be myself. I may behave now more in a manner pertaining to my true self, but I still feel anxiety and guilt over that. I convince myself that I'm not worthy enough to put my real self out there, yet I admire all those brave souls who do.

Today is yet another day tinged with melancholia. The rain is adding to that feeling. I'm at the point of having to decide whether to carry an umbrella with me or not. I can never tell if I'll be caught in a deluge midway to work. I've been off for three days straight, so I know that there are multiple stacks of books for me to shelve when I arrive. In fact, I will most likely be slotted for shelving time for the majority of the work schedule. It's a mindless task, but I just with I could listen to my music while I shelved.

Well, I have about a half hour until I need to start my walk to work. The plus sides of this day are that I still have a job to go to that is not half bad (except for the rock bottom wage); I still have weed to smoke, which always helps me get through the week; I have enough books to read for the rest of my living days. There are probably some additional pluses that I am leaving out, but it's tough to think of the positive side of walking to work on a rainy day, when it seems to make so much more sense to stay in and finish my book. Oh well, common sense does not rule our lives. Debt and anxiety do.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Whistling Past the Graveyard

The title of my post implies being carefree. That's not me, although I work on that image. Inside I harbor all these dark memories, regrets and resentments. These damaging emotions are like a cancer growth. Try as I may to eradicate these negative thoughts from my daily life, it is a constant battle. I have turned to corporate anti-depressants. I still smoke weed on a regular basis in order to keep my industrial disease at bay. It's a lonely life sometimes, without a like-minded smoking cohort. There's nothing like smoking a bowl or two and then taking in a movie with a friend, or tossing the Frisbee back and forth on a sunny day in the park. Try getting high and tossing the Frisbee to yourself....not so easy.

I sit here at work, trying to kill the remainder of my lunch hour by writing down thoughts that I have written down many times before. I sound like a broken record at this point, or maybe a damaged MP3. I have some wonderful moments on my deck, listening to music, and stargazing, but I have no one to share these pleasures with. The loneliness is stifling sometimes. 

Time to get back to work, continuing to count the minutes until I get to walk out the door on continue on to home. Maybe the rain will stay off my back tonight, when I spend my leisure time outside on the deck. Last night I was able to witness a moon-rise that was worthy of any werewolf movie.