dirty paws.

I'm amused how few are the times that the titles of these posts and the posts themselves have any sort of connection. Right now, Dirty Paws by of Monsters and Men. It's a delightful song. I suggest it, if you have any sort of respect for my taste in music (And I'd understand if you didn't. Mine is a varied set of tastes.)

Anyhoo. Life has been somewhat interesting of late, despite how I typically answer the social pulp "How is everything? How have you been?" "Why, I have been quite fine, old friend. You know the old phrases, work work work, so little time, yes yes?" Perhaps it's more than that. Yeah, work is just that... It takes up around 40 hours of each of my weeks, and I get a handful of cash in exchange to fuel my car, beat back my loans, and attempt to raise just a bit of hell. (I like to consider all the sweat that I build up whilst running as a physical manifestation of all the sin being expunged from my body. In the shape I'm in, there's plenty, and it seems just about right. Running, she's as cleansing as the summer rain, or the shower that typically follows the act.) It's not much, but it's enough for now. Gets my loans paid, and that's really what's important to me right now.

Of course, I really should be looking into that whole college thing again. I keep telling myself that I'll do it now, during these couple days off, but I keep finding ways to distract myself. It's in these ways that I most fear I'm like my father. Like my mother, I can lower my head and bull through most anything, even if it's just doing the same routine every day. She has her own sort of brilliance, but damned she is for her ability to take what she has and live with it. My father... He means well, I think, most of the time. But when I say that I am a creature of indulgence, ever happy to find and sate those hedonistic urges, I can't quite claim to me half of what he is in that regard. I'm a creature pulled in two directions. Duty and Pleasure, neither side of which I care to fall to. I don't want to be either of these. I respect my mother, but understand well my father. But both are so flawed, so held back by those vices or virtues. Has my mother ever been fully satisfied? Ever fully happy with her life? I know my father hasn't. One doesn't sink so far as he if he finds any sort of true happiness where he is. He goes searching far too far where he knows he has no chance of finding it. I don't want either of those. But I am made of them.

And I can see them both, every time I look into myself. I kinda wonder how that will affect My happiness. I try to do both at the same time, because I've never been the best at focusing, so there is a great chance that I'll never manage to fully think this through. What do I want? And how do I get there?

I can see the faint outline of a trail that leads in the direction of a future I want. But I Really need to focus for once. If you know me, though... I wouldn't make much of a bet on me managing it.


Anyhow! Ho hum. I'm sitting in Erick's new front room, with two of the most important people in my life, watching them both idly. Sam's writing poetry she may not show anyhow, but I'm a son of Bacchus. I'll most likely convince her to share. Erick is dressed well, putting finishing touches on something for his work. I'm not certain what it is, but I'm sure it would be interesting to read... But probably because I'll know he's capable of so much more. I can't imagine that any job ahead of him will ever ask for his full. I'm not certain if I find that terribly sad or if I'm content with it. He's got so much in there, I really hope to see it put to a real challenge to overcome someday. That would be glorious.

Pieces of me. I was just thinking on something like this the other day. I put up a little video on facebook of a recent jaunt into an abandoned building for a photo shoot. Watching it, I found that I could distinguish bits and pieces of my friends in everything I said, in every voice I used, the tone and inflection. Is that strange? I feel like I'm such a combination of people at any given moment. A bit of Mark here, some Lauren there... A shit-ton of Erick, a sprinkling of Sam. Alittle bit of Joe, some Dakoda and Sarah. Flashes of Katelyn, Diana. A hint of Lori. Is it part of my personality to do that? Does everyone do that, or just a few? And what does that say about me?

I like to think it's positive. I keep a bit of everyone with me, and everyone makes up a bit of me. There are worse things to be than a portrait of the people you care about.

This music is beautiful.

Fragile Art.

naivete.

Well, it had to happen someday, huh? The whole point of this blog has been for me to occasionally just shout opinions, ideas, and feelings into the void; to vent away some of that in a healthier way then arguing with strangers. I couldn't care less what most think of me, so what's the harm?

The innocent bystanders! The humanity!

Heh, oh, don't mind me. I'm just stroking my ego, acting like these opinions have any effect on the world. But, seriously, I'm going to stop citing people when I'm taking about some sort of alternative style of thinking. I just loath to give people around my friends more reason to dislike me, and bother them about.

I just can't believe how naive I was about it. I never really thought anyone would bother to read it (y'all need to find some hobbies, or somethin'). But a friend summed it up well on twitter. "Google -> Twitter -> Blog." I knew it wouldn't be Hard to find. It's just... I'm actually pretty humbled by the fact that people are interested enough to follow. 'Course, then I'm all "But... But now people that I don't want in my life can keep up with it!" Which is closely followed by a giggle that those people are just proving that I must just be so terribly interesting that they need a bit of me in their life.

But there its a whole range of that sort of thinking for me, each time I open this app on my phone. Do I care to let people into my life in such a one sided way? -Shrugs.- Obviously I must, cause I keep posting.

Anyhow. Do I have anything worth getting worked up in a blog about today... Hmm... Not really, I suppose. Life had been pretty good to me lately. I'm running a good deal, getting trained by a close friend, which is just wonderful. I feel so much better, physically, even with the soreness. Getting into half decent shape just gives me even More confidence, and stealing time, real quality time, with my friend... Haha, I missed it. It's tremendous. I don't think she quite knows how much I appreciate the time, but, I do. It's hard to verbalize these things sometimes, even with all the effort I put towards trying to eschew some typical masculine social behavior. Today, I'll be running my first 5k race, and it's awesome that she decided to do just the 5k with me. Running buddies.

I've also just had an interesting couple weeks in terms of my romantic life, as well. I went to mytrle beach with an old friend, one of those "oh, we missed our opportunity to be with one another" situations. You all know what that is. And... In the week we spent together, it was like we condensed an entire relationship into those 7 days. The beginning was intense, and it sort of relaxed as the days passed. But it was nice. I can find no better way to explain it. It was nice. Both of us knew what we'd signed up for, and with that understanding came the ability to just enjoy it for what it was.

It gives me hope. I've grown so accustomed to people simply losing it when it comes to any emotional matter, that it's really refreshing to see something work out.

Ok, ok. I've gotten sappy. These are exactly the things that I wonder if I'm fine with sharing with some of my friendships (used loosely). Beh. But fuck it. A closer look into my personal life than most will ever get. Feel honored.

It's past time I brought an end to this post. Y'all have a good day.

Fragile Art

past tense

Past time.

It's something on my head tonight, (Mike being nostalgic? Who'd have seen That coming) and it felt like something worth a post. It's starting to feel like time is just... Escaping? Escaping me. That a good enough way to put it. Now that I'm not taking classes, I can just feel the moments road runner-ing past, and I feel like poor Wily, flat against a wall that had been painted to look like a tunnel entrance. I'm just trying to live, you know? It seems so strange to be the bad guy when that's all I'm striving for.

I miss midnight basketball with Boris, Bill, Ajit, and the revolving door of other characters. I miss fooling around in the honors college. I miss reading after school in the public library (among other things). I truely miss coming home and not wondering what my brother was going to do with his life, because there only seemed to be opportunities ahead.

This is not at all saying I'm not content with the way things are moving, don't take it that way. Life is pretty wonderful. I have made friends that mean the world to me, and reconnected with some older ones that used to. I have a relatively clear plan for the next year of my life. I've taken some steps to make Sure I start taking better care if my body, and have gotten plenty of free time to drink my masks away. I'm particularly happy with how I've come to terms with a few things. Admitted things to myself, and become healthier as a result.

Also, I didn't get attacked by rapters on the 22nd, which can only mean I'm doing things right. :] It honestly pains me that there were people that believed that might come to pass. That truely were so Certain that god was going to take the time to pluck them specifically, those true believers, away from the shitstorm he had planned for those darned dirty sinners. Cause it's always fun to be part of the elite. But how did it feel for them, directly after? I'd prefer to never know. How empty that had to feel. And, how could you feel after spending your families life savings? Beggaring yourself and maybe loved ones, only to wake up on the 23rd, still here? Embarassment, disillusionment, guilt, devastation, and feeling cheated all in one? I'll pass on that feeling, if I can.

Ugh. That makes me cringe in sympathy pain. I don't know if I can even mock them, after what they must be feeling now.

Also! My calves Burn and Ache, courtesy of one miss Lauren. I'm starting up some running training with her. See if I can't work off some of these excess pounds I picked up somewhere. But I'm super excited about this. I know that when I used to keep up with my decent workout schedule, I had so much more positive energy. I will welcome it's return, trust me. Also, I would prefer to never look like some of the people that come through my job.

Anyhow! Work!

Fragile Art