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My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
![]() ![]() ![]() What's up you guys? Might as well start this now and get this out of the way, because history has proven that if I don't by a convenient hour I'll get lazy and lose the will to actually write a halfway decent blog entry. So here we are...welcome to the final week of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ![]() ![]() ![]() He knows all of your first grade sentences, and some of your second grade ones too. Does music influence or affect my blogging? Yes and no. I'll start with the "no" part because that's the easy one to explain. When it comes time to actually sit down and begin typing, I prefer nae, need silence. The thoughts and noises in my head can't compete with people talking or a tv blaring or a device pumpin' beats, because I'm not very organized and they interrupt my stream of consciousness. ![]() ![]() But about the "yes"...see, here's part of my writing process. While I'm laying in bed at night before I go to sleep, I usually catch the next day's prompts. I arrange tabs in the order I want to use them, including any pertinent links I might want to make part of my entry. I try to find an appropriate song, the lyrics, and cue that up...that way I'm ready for whenever I want to start this whole thing. The trouble is, ![]() On top of that, if there's a day like today where I've had to go anywhere that has necessitated me breaking out the iPod, there's a chance that I'll hear a song that better suits a prompt or my mood...which leads me scrambling to reorganize from the previous skeletal sketch I laid out, or basically starting over from scratch. But who cares...I generally need something to do between the time I take my sleeping pills and when I actually fall asleep, so this chaos sorta works for me. And some days, the head start I give myself is perfect. My thoughts align, my mood fits the prompts, and everything's great. But the last few times I thought I might crank out an entry, I've really wound up completely unmotivated. I've had a lot on my mind, I had the slight touch of a stomach bug (which could be related to weaning myself off of medication, or my body rejecting vegetables in an attempt to eat better), and my state of mind has been generally a shit mix of anger, frustration, and...I don't even know what else. So naturally, when I've played music, it's been in that vein. And now that I've actually gotten up the wherewithal to write, because of where my head's at, this entry will take on some of those characteristics. Moody, depressive, etc. Conversely, if I were in some mythical happy place, I'd probably be more interested in the peppy, poppy music in my collection, and that would radiate here as a byproduct of whatever that feels like. And I think I just took a very long, convoluted way around of saying "Yes, music does in fact influence my blog entries, even though you may not see it...it's there, and I know it, so bugger off and leave me the frig alone." ![]() I'll tell you what...if you believe this and you live by it and it works for you, I won't argue with you about it. The concept sounds legit; newspapers, magazines, and the internet are routinely filled weekly with human-interest stories of people who overcome seemingly insurmountable things, and most of them are believable I guess. Meanwhile, on a more personal level, I have problems of a different magnitude. Lateral issues? Maybe, or maybe it's not for me to decide...but if I don't start figuring some shit out soon, I might never achieve the seemingly impossible things in life. ![]() ![]() The gravity of the situations we're faced with that we categorize as "possible" or "impossible" may vary, but the pain behind the thought process is similar. We have to decide, and then act on that decision, and adjust so we can live with the results. Oh, and a lot of us can do that in a fairly reasonable period of time. I wouldn't dare say this is a strength of mine; far from it actually but sure, some have it worse. The real truth is that everything's quantifiable in some way, and everyones' systems of measurement are vastly different. There isn't a way to accurately calibrate them, or drain them down into common denominators...we're just too unalike for simplicity. And maybe that's a complicated way of saying we're complicated creatures with complicated habits and methods, but (and I'll use this line any chance I get and I love it) one man's ceiling is another man's floor...what's possible to many is fallacy to some, and your weaknesses could be my strengths and vice/versa. Maybe that's why the majority of the population can fit together so well...the ability to rely on others to fill in our cracks. ![]() Well, we (my therapist, doctor and I) established that I'm a represser, an avoider, and a conflict runner-away-frommer (I'm pretty sure those are all highly scientific terms, but I haven't cross-referenced them in the DSM-5 ![]() I guess I dream deeply, or somethin'. And mostly what I dream involves heavily the elements of my past, combining different eras of my life in one giant awkward nocturnal motion picture of sadness, bad decisions, and regret...all of which is not a fun way to start off the day, especially when you can't seem to shake the feelings or images for awhile. I could go into detail, but I can already tell this entry's gonna run a lot longer than I intended for it to in the first place (they always do, try as hard as I want to that they don't), and in order for them to sorta make sense they'd require more room and detail than I'd want to give them here. I know, that's no fun for all you armchair psychiatrists out there...but my insurance doesn't cover y'all'es co-pays. But yeah, my dreams pretty much tell me what I already know...that there have been a lot of times that I've been a complete shithead to certain people. It's almost not fair; my dreams never seem to remind me of the good things I've done for people, or take in to account that I mean well or have been at least likeable enough at times to lead to the bad decisions of others that I've had a hand in. I'm not asking for much; I just wanna wake up some mornings with more smiles than regrets. Is that so hard, oh great and powerful sleep thing that I can only control pharmaceutically? ![]() ![]() So I'm laying in bad last night, already medicated and breaking my personal rule of not having conversations with anyone while in that crossing-over state by having conversations with multiple people (see what I said in the first part of this entry about distractions), and at the same time I'm jammin' to "Impossible" by the Wu-Tang Clan ![]() "I kissed your lips and I tasted blood. I asked you what happened and you said there'd been a fight. You said 'I've been fighting for your honor but you wouldn't understand.'" Lyrics. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Ugh...didn't I say something about this being long? Someday I'll figure out why I do this to myself and subject your endurance to all of this. But today is not that day. I've got my own soul to deal with before I start considering yours or anyone else's. Peace, a pizzatarian, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |