Why Share?

Sometimes I wonder, why do I share the personal things, my personal stories?

To help someone get to know me? In that case, why not just share the insights I've come to based on the story, rather than the story itself?

To impress someone? Why not just let people base an opinion on what they see now instead of my history?

Somehow telling our stories is a big part of how we communicate... but why? Any thoughts from my adoring public?

Three Things I Didn't Like

In the past 24 hours three things have happened that I didn't like. I keep kind of stewing about them so I thought maybe putting them here would help. We'll see.

Someone was describing a woman they saw and said "And I mean, ... no offence Sonya... but she was BIGGER THAN SONYA!"

I discovered that there was gossip about me in a group I used to hang out with and trust.

I was at an event that I was choosing to not outwardly participate in, and was asked several times to take part. I politely declined several times because I was not comfortable participating (although I did not voice my reason). I was then asked to participate in a specific manner, and again declined politely. Eventually I said, "Listen, how about if you just let me take care of myself, and if you are uncomfortable with me being me, I can leave" and the issue basically ended, with a bit of conversation about it from people other than me.

No: A Haiku

Spoiler for mild course/graphic language
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No means no, even
If it's not talk about cock.

No always means no.

Disturbing Nights

I haven't slept very well the past 3 nights.

The first night, I thought it was because of a series of documentaries I had watched. They were pretty graphic, about civil wars and cocaine mafias and all kinds of challenges the world faces. Every time I closed my eyes on that first night, I saw corpses. At first they were ones from the documentaries, but then my brain moved on to corpses I've seen for myself as well. All night I was haunted by bodies. So yeah, I didn't sleep well and when I did doze, it was pretty restless and creepifying.

The second night, I'm not entirely sure what happened... although it probably involved some tea I drank that I thought was caffeine free and wasn't. Oops. I just couldn't settle down til about 4am.

Then last night things seemed to be going well. Got to sleep at a reasonable time, no disturbing images or dreams... and then I woke up suddenly at about 2am. I have no idea why. But when I woke up I was shaky, and little dizzy or disoriented. I became very uncomfortable with the dark, and turned on my bedside lamp. For a while I couldn't even close my eyes again though; I had thoughts direct from some horror movie I've never seen, about ghouls and visceral, vengeful spirits being interested in me. This was really different for me. Usually when I have night time fear, it revolves around aliens. So different that I kind of started to think maybe I was right. So yeah... that took a while to calm down from.

Here's hoping tonight goes better.

A Conversation With Myself in Words Not My Own

"Night hath succeeded day, and day hath succeeded night, and the hours and moments of your lives have come and gone, and yet none of you hath, for one instant, consented to detach himself from that which perisheth. Bestir yourselves, that the brief moments that are still yours may not be dissipated and lost. Even as the swiftness of lightning your days shall pass, and your bodies shall be laid to rest beneath a canopy of dust. What can ye then achieve? How can ye atone for your past failure?" 
--Baha'u'llah

"And the dirt beneath my heels in the road
Obeys commands from me and serves me as I go.
And though it helps me knowin' you're never far away
I can't help wondering how you might feel about me today."
--Jack White

Objective

I was just going through a bunch of old documents I have on this computer, many from years and years ago. I found an old list of goals. One said

GOAL: Work during mornings
            OBJECTIVES: eat my own shorts

I have no idea what I meant, but it makes me laugh. A lot.

Great Things, Part 8

Been a while since I did a great things post. Bear with me here, I'm pretty tired.

Good talks with good people

Spider plants (especially their babies)

Tim Minchin

Cream soda

Jack White (and his fantastical word play)

Warm, snuggly beds to be warm and snuggly in

(Good night)

Expansion and Consolidation

It's kind of a buzz phrase around me lately. You know those times when the Universe keeps lining up experiences that point you in one direction? It's been one of those weeks... one of those lives. But lately the signs are pointing to this idea of expansion and consolidation, in and out, inhale and exhale, eat and digest, learn and understand. 

Everything is pulsing constantly. Our bodies are, our cells are, the atoms of the screen you are reading this on all the way out to the universe as we know it... everything is creating this massive intergalactic rhythm, and no matter what you do, you are a part of it.

The key, to me, is remembering that life is a unified (albeit mind blastingly complex) heartbeat. And learning to listen: finding my own rhythm and being true to it; finding people and places and things and ideas that interlock with my rhythm in ways that are nurturing.

I suspect that sometimes rhythms develop a little hiccup. Like breathing sometimes does; an odd little space or an extra long inhale. But if you go with it, if you aren't rigid and controlling, rhythm is restored. If you are listening hard enough, I bet you find that after a hiccup your rhythm is changed, either subtly or not. A new rhythm to explore and find mates for.

Depression

The interesting thing about depression is that when I have it, i don't really care. I guess that's a common part of depression; losing motivation for things you used to love, not being interested in things. I just kinda sit back and wait for it to run it's course. I think I do that with most emotions, actually. "This too shall pass."
I kind of feel like maybe I should care that I don't care. In some part of my stomach I'm concerned about hurting people I care about by being depressed again.
But there's an old ratty flannel shirt kind of comfort to my depression. Like how in the first days of fall you get to wear your favorite hoodie again, and it's heavier than you are used to, but it's warm too. So warm that maybe heavy ain't so bad. At least til spring comes round again.

New Post

My friend told me to put up a new blog post, so I did.

Here are some funny comics. Click to read if they are too small for you.

And now, you should all go watch Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog.