9.13.08 - These Days, Those Days

I find myself, unwittingly, in a psychological pickle with things that bring meaning to my life.

Stuck, I find myself, between two conflicting, perhaps complimentary, however elusively so, powers of influence that bring me as close within myself as they do pull me apart. It's definitely exhausting, not to mention confusing, frustrating, and downright disorienting. In one moment, I am reserved to a frame of mind based on raw instinct and intercommunication; the next, I shy towards processes of systematic theory and independence, some would call isolationism. To quote the Clash's eponymous work, "Should I stay or should I go?" That is, should I figuratively remain with my influences of the past, with which I have always found wisdom, solace, and insights into myself, but never felt a true part of; or depart towards the future, wherein lies my own generation of the misunderstood, yet sympathetic 'tweeners of youth and adulthood, and the promise of near-quarterlife crises and continual metacognitive questioning of self?

Alas, the struggle between both is futile, for I am neither there or here. Instead, I am simply living this moment in time, never constant, ever-changing. I, like most, fill the void between the left and the right, the negative and the positive, the white and the black, the hot and the cold. And yet, as I occupy this vast, broadening space between yin and yang, I cannot help but feel as a reactive atom that desperately wants to bond with another, all to satisfy its wanting - no, its craving - to be in communion and become inert. From there, it has no worry, no need to become more than itself; in essence, it has accomplished its purpose in the universe, thus, it is inert.

But I refuse to become inert, static, complacent with likeness. There's yet a yearning in me to see how I can be rather than what, however the former is much more involving and difficult to sort out than the latter, as many would find. I know that I should not feel the need to conform or become one with people but instead the universe, I know this; but there's nothing wrong with taking some of what you learn from everyone towards your journey into unity with all things, right? The thing is, I continually ask myself, 'which will bring me more into unity?' . The Old or the New? Of course some certain amalgamation of the two would have to suffice; balance and moderation between extremes is, after all, an eventual goal of all things. And to be in control of the fact that you're not in control and to have an omni-awareness of being, these are the things we, or at least most, aspire towards, if not for religion then for one's faith and life itself.

But I digress; I must continually tell myself, 'not Old or New, Old AND New.' Sometimes there's more than just a two-fold choice; a middle way, as Buddhists would put it. But then again, is there any distinction? If time is really everchanging, everpresent, everexistent, would there be a difference? Old would be old and new would be new, but only relatively. Despite the culture or society which surrounds it, old and new aren't changed by the fact that they simply are. In other words, I refuse to believe that one point in time has precedence over the other, when it comes to finding one's purpose in being. Wisdom is wisdom; even as it was forged in the past, we still pass it down knowing that it matters, and even as it is born on fresh lips, we know, whether collectively or individually, what to think of it and what kind of effect it has on us.

I suppose that we need to conform and be herded sometimes, thinking that in order to belong, we have to possess certain likenesses and bear certain marks. In fact, one man once said "The mark of greatness is when everything before you becomes obsolete, and everything after you bears your mark." We should absolutely learn from our pasts, but the past will never become obsolete; we learn from the past in retrospect in order to develop ourselves and gain wisdom from all that came before. As for all that follow us, we cannot help that they bear certain distinguishing characteristics of our generations, but I can't help but think that our lives are lived in vain; those that follow us shall meld their generation into their very own, and no doubt be mindful of our influences and their futures.

Upon reflection, and writing this, I come to realize that, just as scientifically the universe infinitely expands and contracts, my feelings of being pulled and pushed in different directions is anything but unnatural. Chaos is present in any system, namely the mind, and the only way to conquer it is to embrace it, knowing that there will continually be a struggle and never a feeling of stagnancy. If anything, one must go with the flow and let the universe do its worst. Best case scenario you find out what you're made of; worst case, you find out what you're made of.

9.12.08 - Win

'Did he say we were winning the war?'

Winning is a relative term. If you were to hear someone declare in glass-half-full fashion that we were winning the war, you might argue contrarily the country can't conceivably win a war on terror, and that to say we are 'winning' is merely a hope, a promising outlook, something indefinite that is compromised by overconfidence or pompous, unrelenting nationalism.

If you were to hear someone say that he was winning at chess, supported merely by the fact that he had captured more pieces than the opponent, then you just may censure him for declaring early victory, because as we all know, or at least those who follow the gentlemen's game, the game isn't won until the King himself is checkmated; that is, exhausted of all other options, cornered by his enemies, and most certainly unprotected.

So what would you say to the man, who jumped the gun and claimed the opponent's loss all too soon, if somehow, unforeseen, he overlooked a major mistake, one even a master of the board would suffer due to cockiness or perhaps too much confidence and too little caution? And if in turn this crucial error led to further withering of your defenses, what would you say then?
What would you do if suddenly, by no fault of your own, those who stood for you fell for you needlessly all because of your pretentiousness, your eagerness, your want - no, your need - to appear superior to your opponent. No, forget your allies and forget safety of those who fight for you; you are too proud to say no, and yet, you know saying the 'w' word is the key to the game you're playing oh-so-wondrously. Take a bow, you've declared nothing but your arrogance, and the ruthlessness with which you edge your pawns to the edge, all so you can save face. So you can 'win' in your eyes. Your blind, ignorant eyes.

Winning is a relative term. How many pawns must be sacrificed before the game you think you're winning ends?

8.30.08 - Alone again and Behind the Curve.

Never before in my life have I felt so isolated, separated, uninspired or unwilling.

My friend and I were discussing something late last night on my IM, and that something was the fact that we feel left behind, as all our friends have so ceremoniously gone off to school already, giving us, now, about 3 weeks to wait until our lives can kick in. It is truly a test of patience, but it is an unfair expectation to ask of someone, especially people as unruly (well maybe not so much unruly as anxious to begin) as her and myself. We long to do, to learn, to experience, to engage; we seek to make friends, find ourselves, and become independent, and not just independent of our parents. Independent from boundaries, which are imposed by overbearing authority figures that standardize and catagorize you into someone they think you should be or, in their opinion, inevitably will be.

But all that shall have to wait. As my friend said, I can't help but feeling that I'm behind the curve, as if I'm a regular Joe Policeman just arriving to the scene of a crime when already the FBI and any other imaginable law enforcement have built a case and running leads on suspects. I'm green with envy and jealousy. Friends have gone off and started new, possibly improved, lives, and we are left here, contemplating how the agony of the wait continues to push. Maybe its just that innate human tendency to belong and live among others like oneself. Or maybe we're just lonely.

Either way, I just don't know what to do with myself.

"I'm stuck in a square, becoming one too/three stories above I hear there's a view/Long way to the ground/But i'll probably stick around"
-'Restart' by Ozma

8.29.08 - Out of Extraordinary

You know something's wrong when you're restless.

Something's out of place or its ordinary configuration, and your normal routine is upset; in fact, the things you would usually do don't seem so enthralling or even worth while. Guitar, in my case, has hopefully, temporarily, lost its seemingly eternal wonder as well as recording songs, which also lack a certain passion that otherwise flows from my gut. Even things that appeal to me during times of boredom and listlessness such as reading and writing aren't near enough to keep me going through the day. Food won't properly satisfy you as it has before, and the incessant heat wave certainly doesn't help one's demeanor by any stretch of the imagination. Everything has the air of disjunctedness, as if the whole world skipped a beat somewhere down the line, and the only way to get back into the groove of things would be to jump start with a hypersized defibrulator. Or maybe it's just you who's out of step? You, whose own distraught self can't help but see the negatives piercing themselves through and between the lines between a good day and bad.

And all this because she's gone off to school, where her life and yours are no longer as entwined as you once knew, as you always loved, as you never fully appreciated. It's not to say that she's gone for good, but there's indeed something missing, maybe not from your heart, or from your head, just... just from your own living presence, like half of your being was placed into her and there's no getting it back. And not until you can reunite will you ever be whole again. Whole, together, in love and in union. Oh, to be whole again, to be with you, to hold you and have you forever, believing as if the day had never met the night that fateful hour of creation. God, oh God, she is forever part of me, and her parting is a beautiful sadness.

You must know, her presence is truly breathtaking, but in her absence, life is out of extraordinary.

"Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep, this air is blessed, you share with me.."
-'Hands Down' Dashboard Confessional