Hi guys. If anyone
is out there still checking up, I'm sorry I haven't been around. Writing
lost it's luster to me for quite a while. The last time I checked in was
at the beginning of 2013. Here we are almost 4 months through 2014.
So it has been a year and some months since I dropped by to say hello.
I don't have a lot to talk about (Bullshit. I do.) However, not all
things can be said where anyone can see. So, why don't I just tell you
what I can? Don't look at this as some "year in review" like I
did last time. That isn't the format I'm shooting for. Instead of
that, I think I will just share some thoughts, stories, and maybe an emotion or
two. This may be a long one. Grab a drink and settle in.
Whatcha thinkin bout? Nothin, just stuff.
Sometimes I get super
butthurt that not everyone in the world understands how pricelessly funny the
inside jokes that my friends and I have. Let me tell you about one. I
went to see Flux Pavilion in October with my squad of friends. We have
been going to a lot of shows together since September, and it has been amazing.
Flux is my all time favorite DJ and producer, so it was really special
for me to see him. Someday I will do an entire entry regarding the magic
of an EDM show, but now is not the time. Anyway, if you have been to one,
you know that it is one hell of an event. Just a big, insane,
breath-taking array of lights and sounds. Most people that I have been around
for their first show describe it as "the craziest party I have ever been to."
In the midst of this party. This insane experience of filthy bass and enough lights to blind your mom, I look over at one of my very close friends and I'm surprised to see the most blank expression on his baffled face. First I thought he was just enamored with the fact that the lasers just came on. But on closer examination, I could tell that it was his thinking face. I leaned over to ask him what he was thinking and he looked at me with a half-smile and said "Nothin, just stuff." Being the inquisitive mind that I am, I asked him to elaborate. In a deafening blast of music I heard him spit out an explanation that went roughly like this. "What if it isn't all what we think it is man? Maybe this is just an alternate reality. We may not even be here. What if this is just an alternate reality?" Woah woah woah bro. Ease your mind a little bit. I can't remember exactly what I said to him, but I'm sure I shrugged it off and went back to having my face melted.
It was weeks later that
him and I actually talked about what he was lost in thought about.
Alternate reality is something we have all kinda heard of. He was
thinking so far in the future that it terrified me, mainly because thinking any
time past the next three months makes me scared as hell. This guy was
thinking so far in advance that at that show, he thought he wasn't even there.
Someone else was just experiencing his alternate reality in the future.
To call this guy an over-thinker would be a legendary understatement.
Having this in common with him makes us get along very well.
If you ever ask me what
I'm thinking, I will most likely smile and say "Stuff." That's
the beauty of the inside joke. In my special little circle of people who
get it, the answer is just "Stuff." Maybe it was just the
moment, maybe it is the fact that four or five people understand that I'm just
thinking about stuff sometimes. That is the humor in it for me.
Get past the humor
though. After the giggles subside over "Hey we saw Flux and you were
just standing there thinking about stuff", think about it. In that
sweaty mass of people, at that euphoric event that is called an EDM show, the
stuff is still there. Stuff can strike at any time. It can be as
crazy as pondering alternate reality, or wondering why the hell you are on
earth to begin with. No matter where you go, stuff is one deep thought
away. Stuff is anywhere your mind can take you.
"My deepest fear is
that I'll be a horrible mom."
This is all stuff.
Stuff I've heard from the people in my life recently. This was all
just a rambling, incoherent way to say that your mind will take you so many
places. I think the key is to just keep a leash on your wild mind when it
comes to certain things. But in the end, what the hell do I know about
it? My mind chewed its leash off and it isn't coming back.
Inspiration
What's inspiration
anyway? Well let's see what the nice people over at Mirriam-Websters think.
Inspiration- something that makes someone want to do something or that gives someone an idea about what to do or create.
As I
said earlier, writing lost its luster for me in the last year. I have
always loved writing, and if I sat down and forced it, something would
eventually come out. Forcing it never helped anyone. Everything I
wrote for a long time was shit. On top of already being very hard on
myself when it comes to what I write, I didn't have any fire. I had
nothing of value to say. Any intelligent or somewhat insightful thing
that my mind could muster was so covered in bitterness and uncertainty that the
final product was nothing that I wanted anyone to see. I read stupid
inspirational drivel online to try and spark myself up and nothing happened.
It
wouldn't be entirely true to say that I have only ever had one real inspiration
to write. But I have only ever had one main inspiration. I've been taking
a hard look at losing my inspiration. It isn't just losing a friend,
someone I love, a crying shoulder. It's losing the reason I had for
writing. The reason I had for waking up. The reason I had to hope
that the future was a time to believe in and look forward to and not a place
filled with "what the fuck?" and "how did I get here?"
I
don't fancy myself a "real" writer. I've only gotten paid to
write on a few occasions. I've won a couple lame little contests for
poetry that I'm embarrassed to look at. However, I do look at myself as a
creator. That's part of what the written word is to me. It's a
creation. A story, poem, or blog entry is a house that I built with my
thoughts and words. If writing is like building a house, what happens
when I don't have the materials to build anymore? If I wake up and there's
no more lumber for me to use, how will I build? What happens when there
are no more bricks to be stacked on each other?
I've
been drying up the resources at my main hardware store and its almost out of
what I need to carry on building. I bled my inspiration dry for so fucking
long that I didn't stop to consider the fact that I can get it in every waking
moment of my life. The materials I need to build may not be at the store.
In the old days, you didn't get to go to Lowe's to get your materials.
You took an axe and an ox to the woods and brought that shit back with
you.
This
isn't to say that Lowe's won't be there. Lowe's isn't going anywhere.
But the thing about retail is that it requires currency. The
currency that I used at Lowe's is losing value with every second that ticks
away. I am almost out of time.
I
think that painful reality leaves me with two choices.
You have to find inspiration in anything everything.
The
way the bass feels when the headliner drops it for the first time.
The materials I need to
build are everywhere. Now it's a matter of acquiring them to build.
It is just so damn hard to go out in the woods to get the materials when
I can drive past that house I already built and think "Wow, the front porch
on that one is awesome. I should just make another one like that."
I've gotten almost too
deep into the analogy for me to keep track of so I know whoever is reading
could be getting lost. I'm not 100% what I am even trying to say. I
think the point I want to make is that the inspiration I had was beautiful.
It gave me a reason to breathe when all I wanted was to drown. But
my inspiration is almost out of oxygen to breathe into me. I can spend
the rest of my life gasping for it or I can realize that every living thing on
this planet can breathe into me.
Inspiration is like love
because love is almost always the source of anyone's inspiration. Love
breathes life into everyone. I can find oxygen again, but I'll always
want a breath of the first love I ever had.
In school we were always
taught to conclude what we write. Just a fancy way of the teacher wanting
you to write what you've already written so she can see it in a more concise
way. I have no way to summarize what I have written. In the last 8
weeks I have felt every human emotion from punch-drunk-love-euphoria to the
deepest depths of human depression that I didn't know existed. This entry
wasn't a recap of all that. It was just what I needed to get out about
what's been going on. I hope in some way that whoever comes across this
can make it the materials they need to build something in their life.
Hi guys. If anyone is out there still checking up, I'm sorry I haven't been around. Writing lost it's luster to me for quite a while. The last time I checked in was at the beginning of 2013. Here we are almost 4 months through 2014. So it has been a year and some months since I dropped by to say hello. I don't have a lot to talk about (Bullshit. I do.) However, not all things can be said where anyone can see. So, why don't I just tell you what I can? Don't look at this as some "year in review" like I did last time. That isn't the format I'm shooting for. Instead of that, I think I will just share some thoughts, stories, and maybe an emotion or two. This may be a long one. Grab a drink and settle in.
Whatcha thinkin bout? Nothin, just stuff.
Sometimes I get super
butthurt that not everyone in the world understands how pricelessly funny the
inside jokes that my friends and I have. Let me tell you about one. I
went to see Flux Pavilion in October with my squad of friends. We have
been going to a lot of shows together since September, and it has been amazing.
Flux is my all time favorite DJ and producer, so it was really special
for me to see him. Someday I will do an entire entry regarding the magic
of an EDM show, but now is not the time. Anyway, if you have been to one,
you know that it is one hell of an event. Just a big, insane,
breath-taking array of lights and sounds. Most people that I have been around
for their first show describe it as "the craziest party I have ever been to."
In the midst of this party. This insane experience of filthy bass and enough lights to blind your mom, I look over at one of my very close friends and I'm surprised to see the most blank expression on his baffled face. First I thought he was just enamored with the fact that the lasers just came on. But on closer examination, I could tell that it was his thinking face. I leaned over to ask him what he was thinking and he looked at me with a half-smile and said "Nothin, just stuff." Being the inquisitive mind that I am, I asked him to elaborate. In a deafening blast of music I heard him spit out an explanation that went roughly like this. "What if it isn't all what we think it is man? Maybe this is just an alternate reality. We may not even be here. What if this is just an alternate reality?" Woah woah woah bro. Ease your mind a little bit. I can't remember exactly what I said to him, but I'm sure I shrugged it off and went back to having my face melted.
It was weeks later that
him and I actually talked about what he was lost in thought about.
Alternate reality is something we have all kinda heard of. He was
thinking so far in the future that it terrified me, mainly because thinking any
time past the next three months makes me scared as hell. This guy was
thinking so far in advance that at that show, he thought he wasn't even there.
Someone else was just experiencing his alternate reality in the future.
To call this guy an over-thinker would be a legendary understatement.
Having this in common with him makes us get along very well.
If you ever ask me what
I'm thinking, I will most likely smile and say "Stuff." That's
the beauty of the inside joke. In my special little circle of people who
get it, the answer is just "Stuff." Maybe it was just the
moment, maybe it is the fact that four or five people understand that I'm just
thinking about stuff sometimes. That is the humor in it for me.
Get past the humor
though. After the giggles subside over "Hey we saw Flux and you were
just standing there thinking about stuff", think about it. In that
sweaty mass of people, at that euphoric event that is called an EDM show, the
stuff is still there. Stuff can strike at any time. It can be as
crazy as pondering alternate reality, or wondering why the hell you are on
earth to begin with. No matter where you go, stuff is one deep thought
away. Stuff is anywhere your mind can take you.
"My deepest fear is
that I'll be a horrible mom."
"I'm scared that I
won't ever be able to give anyone 100% of my heart because I gave it all to
her."
"If we opened up
the first Medical Marijuana dispensary in Alabama, we would make millions in
months."
"I just want to
travel after graduation. I'm not sure where to work."
"There's so many
what ifs I want to take care of. I'm still young."
This is all stuff.
Stuff I've heard from the people in my life recently. This was all
just a rambling, incoherent way to say that your mind will take you so many
places. I think the key is to just keep a leash on your wild mind when it
comes to certain things. But in the end, what the hell do I know about
it? My mind chewed its leash off and it isn't coming back.
Inspiration
What's inspiration
anyway? Well let's see what the nice people over at Mirriam-Websters think.
Inspiration- something that makes someone want to do something or that gives someone an idea about what to do or create.
As I
said earlier, writing lost its luster for me in the last year. I have
always loved writing, and if I sat down and forced it, something would
eventually come out. Forcing it never helped anyone. Everything I
wrote for a long time was shit. On top of already being very hard on
myself when it comes to what I write, I didn't have any fire. I had
nothing of value to say. Any intelligent or somewhat insightful thing
that my mind could muster was so covered in bitterness and uncertainty that the
final product was nothing that I wanted anyone to see. I read stupid
inspirational drivel online to try and spark myself up and nothing happened.
It
wouldn't be entirely true to say that I have only ever had one real inspiration
to write. But I have only ever had one main inspiration. I've been taking
a hard look at losing my inspiration. It isn't just losing a friend,
someone I love, a crying shoulder. It's losing the reason I had for
writing. The reason I had for waking up. The reason I had to hope
that the future was a time to believe in and look forward to and not a place
filled with "what the fuck?" and "how did I get here?"
I
don't fancy myself a "real" writer. I've only gotten paid to
write on a few occasions. I've won a couple lame little contests for
poetry that I'm embarrassed to look at. However, I do look at myself as a
creator. That's part of what the written word is to me. It's a
creation. A story, poem, or blog entry is a house that I built with my
thoughts and words. If writing is like building a house, what happens
when I don't have the materials to build anymore? If I wake up and there's
no more lumber for me to use, how will I build? What happens when there
are no more bricks to be stacked on each other?
I've
been drying up the resources at my main hardware store and its almost out of
what I need to carry on building. I bled my inspiration dry for so fucking
long that I didn't stop to consider the fact that I can get it in every waking
moment of my life. The materials I need to build may not be at the store.
In the old days, you didn't get to go to Lowe's to get your materials.
You took an axe and an ox to the woods and brought that shit back with
you.
This
isn't to say that Lowe's won't be there. Lowe's isn't going anywhere.
But the thing about retail is that it requires currency. The
currency that I used at Lowe's is losing value with every second that ticks
away. I am almost out of time.
I
think that painful reality leaves me with two choices.
1.
Tear down everything I've built and reuse the same inspiration for other
creations.
2.
Take an axe and an ox to the woods and bring that shit back with me.
You have to find inspiration in anything everything.
The
way the bass feels when the headliner drops it for the first time.
The
way the wind blows your disk toward the hole when you thought you had a bad
throw in disk golf.
The
way a stranger looks at you when you jump off their car for them.
The
way the American flag looks when stretched over the outfield at Turner Field.
The
deep and uncontrollable inhale when you kiss someone you love for the first
time.
The materials I need to
build are everywhere. Now it's a matter of acquiring them to build.
It is just so damn hard to go out in the woods to get the materials when
I can drive past that house I already built and think "Wow, the front porch
on that one is awesome. I should just make another one like that."
I've gotten almost too
deep into the analogy for me to keep track of so I know whoever is reading
could be getting lost. I'm not 100% what I am even trying to say. I
think the point I want to make is that the inspiration I had was beautiful.
It gave me a reason to breathe when all I wanted was to drown. But
my inspiration is almost out of oxygen to breathe into me. I can spend
the rest of my life gasping for it or I can realize that every living thing on
this planet can breathe into me.
Inspiration is like love
because love is almost always the source of anyone's inspiration. Love
breathes life into everyone. I can find oxygen again, but I'll always
want a breath of the first love I ever had.
In school we were always
taught to conclude what we write. Just a fancy way of the teacher wanting
you to write what you've already written so she can see it in a more concise
way. I have no way to summarize what I have written. In the last 8
weeks I have felt every human emotion from punch-drunk-love-euphoria to the
deepest depths of human depression that I didn't know existed. This entry
wasn't a recap of all that. It was just what I needed to get out about
what's been going on. I hope in some way that whoever comes across this
can make it the materials they need to build something in their life.
No comments:
Post a Comment