Realization

Do you realize how little it takes to run an organization, a business, a world? You carry a computer and the Internet, and the world is at your fucking fingertips. In the days where it took people, real life human beings--well, those days are limited.

The generations before us knew not of convenience, but hard work and determination. Our generation is the new age. Simplification and portibility define our generaton, cutting out some of the most important intrapersonal relationships one can form. 

In our generation, not only are we constantly going, but we tune out the world in the simplification of making ourselves the only one. It seems that iPod earbuds and cell phones have become a natural adaption to our physical selves, both of which are in our ears at all time. We've lost each other around us. We no longer hear each other, the sound of the wind or rain hitting the dry ground, birds chirping to remind us of the beauty cacooning us.

We have failed ourselves.

Hit me

This composition was wrote on my iPod, after discussing how trivial life is with my Spanish professor and walking to lunch with Erik. I hope you find this an enlightening composition. -A

"Hit me with your Lexus, you son of a bitch. You scream and shout at me with a steering wheel in one hand, a Blackberry in another. Do you not understand how temporary life truly is? To love these things that you hold so highly in importance gives you nothing. 

Do you dream to love something else with a palpitating heart besides your own, or would that hurt too much? The sick realization that your deep fear of loneliness is really true? 

So hit me with your Lexus. I will die knowing the things you will never."

October 13, 2009

October 13, 2009

One of the strangest days of my life, I must say.

You revisit one of the environments that has thrown you out, dejected you from being yourself, and you see all these faces, both with a combination of fear of you as a person while simultaneously confronted with death head on that has struck you personally.

Does anyone really care?

You go through the motions of death being something that makes you angry, upset, sad, makes you laugh, resignation, etc. It just is a mixture of emotions everyone around me is experiencing.

And yet I don't move. I am emotionally sound, yet silent.

I played violin today, maybe not up to the best standards, but I tried my best. People commented that is was wonderful, although the hearing aids were enough for me to realize that for some, just hearing noise is a blessing.

I found myself reflecting on was constants I have in life, both now and for the long term. A list comes to mind:

*Family, Gretchen, Erik, and so many friends disguised as my guiding forces

*Death

And then I sat there and meditated on that. And here is what I found:

Reflecting on my Grandmother's life, I never want to see me or anyone I love placed in a nursing home where the life and the meaning in it is sucked away from you. I don't want my vacation away from "home" to be down the hall in front of a puzzle or in front of a TV while other people groan and make noise from pain they cannot tend to or control, while the individual sits next to you in his or her own piss because no one changed them.

I refuse to accept that fate for anyone. I would rather die.

I reflected on mistakes my Grandmother made, and yet the successes she had that others now recognize. First, that saying whatever you wish to say isn't always the wisest decision, that tact always will help and make you a better individual. Second, hold on to what is important. For Grandma, it was God and a good book. Family was important, but she only realized that in the end of her life. Third, take a walk. My grandmother walked everywhere; cars were the enemy. So take a walk, take in the air, and for God sakes, breathe. Fourth, never be afraid to say "I love you." My grandmother didn't say it enough. So always say I love you to the people you love.

What throws me still is being in the church that I was brought up in and thrown out, one church that when ignorant of who its members are is accepting and accommodating, and yet when exposed is nothing more than something that needs fixing, correcting. If we were all about loving people for people, and loving whatever "God" is for what "God" is, we would be better people. We would have realized that all of us are little peons on this great planet, with no more purpose than the specs of sand underneath us.

So love and loathing came together today. Death and the life that continues to go on came together. They lower a body into the ground today just as another job to do in the day; the people that lower my grandmother's body into her grave did not know her, nor do they care. It is another job, another task they have been assigned. My mother lays in bed tonight, looking at the ceiling and doubting she did everything to be the daughter she aspired to be to her mother, while others are coping in different ways. I sit here writing the words on this screen, fueled only by the reserve energy I have to give after the ordeal that was today.

People are so funny. Life is funny. Death is funny. It is these indescribable things that bring us happiness, sadness, joy, hope, fear, every single emotion.

The following poem was read today, written by Mary Elizabeth Frye:

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

And so Frye's words should conclude any weeping, any sorrow that anyone is experiencing.

Canker Sores

They are the most unattractive, repulsive, and most frustrating bodily problems that can arise.

They are called canker sores.

According to WebMD.com, "Canker sores are small shallow ulcers that appear in the mouth and often make eating and talking uncomfortable. There are two types of canker sores: simple canker sores, and complex canker sores."

They plague people between the ages of 10-20, and can be caused from many things, stress being one of the more suspected causes.

The one that has erupted on my lower lip on the right side has been with me for about five days now. I'm starting to get mildly pissed, and subsequently have started punishing my body for disobeying the command to get better. How do I do this? I bite my lip open.

So this morning, I woke up, with my lip swelled to about three times its normal size. All I could do was drool and yell, "Moooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmm" in the most pathetic voice I could muster.

"What the hell happened to you?! My God!"
(in lispy voice) "Helpp meeeeeee."
"My God, your lip is HUGE!"
"Help me!"
"Oh. Right."

So ointment after cream after mouthwash came out. Salt water, Paroxyl, Hurricane jelly, Colgate Orabase. You name it, it was applied to my lip.

As I sit here, the pain surges through my lip and my mouth. I can eat normally, I can't even drink normally. This has altered my life.

I hate canker sores.

Relationships: Part I of V

On the note of relationships, I have wanted to try and break down the different phases that one couple goes through just to get to a point where they feel comfortable. I call it the Phase V Process. Although not guaranteed to always follow in this sequence, I find it to be pretty damn enlightening to any given situation.

Phase I: Search and Seek

The first obvious step of any relationship is to search out and seek the person that you would like to pursue. This can be in a numerous amount of venues, at different times, in different states of mind. All of these have to be in line with what you truly want, or you will end up with either another night of bad memories, a disease you may not want, or a baby that you will have to take care of. In any case, the Search and Seek is crucial to you finding the person you want to be with.

In many cases, people find that having alcohol in their system's makes this process seemingly easier. This is very dependent on the situation, but 7 times out of 10 it will be a better idea to have no alcohol in your system. Although a drunken mind speaks sober thoughts, your thoughts may come out as unattractive ever for a potential person. Likewise, if alcohol is affecting the awesomeness that the person you would like to pursue truly is, they will be incredibly unattractive. Drunks will find drunks, this is proven.

In the Search and Seek phase, you must be conscious of what you want and desire. HAVE GUIDELINES, not necessarily expectations.

In the Search and Seek phase, you may be flippant and selective. This is the point: to get out there, to see what is available, and to analyze others while simultaneously analyzing yourself. It is the best and worst stage all in one. Some say its a rush, others complain that it is a pain in the ass.

You may feel, at some points, that there are too many options available. If this is the case, you need to make an evaluative decision on which seems to be the best match up for you. If you try to play multiple people, chances are you are going to not only get exhausted, but also burned. It is not recommended if you are serious about going through with the other phases effortlessly.

Different venues include bars, cafes, mutual outings with friends, dance clubs, sporting events, concerts, and the list can go on. The venue sets the genre of people you are after. Keep that in mind.

All in all, the Search and Seek is the most crucial step, and will be the building block for everything that is to come with you and your potential candidate.

Do you know who I am?

I believe confidence is a great thing. I eat it up. I love being confident, and I love interacting with confident people.

But we all know the feeling when two confident people clash. It sucks. Like acid on an open flesh wound, it's going to be disastrous for everyone involved.

But I love confidence. To be able to walk into a room and not care about anyone or anything is a splendid thing. To feign fear and to approach everyone with posture and poise it a great thing. To appear to know everything while you may no nothing is a well-developed skill. And to walk away and appear as though you didn't have a second thought about anything is something that will keep people intrigued.

Allusive individuals are also good. You never know the full story. That's the mystery, it's the fun of it. It's the inkling feeling you'll never get it, but you really want to. To not understand why something is happening and be happy with it, or barely understand what is happening for that matter.

Do you know who I am? I'm confidence knocking.

Getting Old

One day, I am going to get old. This is the fact of life. You have your youth, you have your prime, you have old age.

One day, I fear I won't be able to hear. Or see. Or even control my bladder or colon.

I fear the day when I will shit my pants and have to ask someone to help me.

Getting old is sure going to stink. Because you go through life, thinking you are so high and mighty, when in fact you are nothing special. You are going to face the same fate that everyone else before you has--that you will get old, you will get helpless, and everything that you have worked hard for will be worth nothing.

People will fight over you, where they should put you and your aging body. People will fight over what casket or urn you should be placed in. And people will fight over your last possessions and money.

But getting old is something that youth want so badly. They want the ability to buy alcohol, to be done with the drama of school and education, to have a real job and a real car, to have a home and a family, and to find the extraordinary love everyone deserves.

Getting old--what a twisted thing.

Bags

I love bags almost as much as I love scarves. It an accessory that I pride myself with having a lot of.

I have big bags, small bags, murses, workout bags, duffel bags, luggage bags, messenger bags, tote bags, and of course paper bags.

Paper and plastic is one of the biggest decisions that customers across the world make every day. Bags that will either decompose in a week or that will not decompose for hundreds of years in our land fills.

We put our lives in bags. We meticulously seek out the most stylish and spacious bag, while rationalizing that putting more in it makes us a better person. We have stores that charge us upwards of $500.00 for little "C's" to be on it, making this particular bag superior from the rest.

We carry our business in bags. Books, laptops, pens, pencils, sensitive documents. Bags are the home for all of these wonderful things.

Bags see more of the world than we do. They go from store to store, traveling from place to place. They hold different materials of different importance, and they roll with you through your journeys in life. Whether big, small, ugly, or tall, bags are amazing.

And thus, I justify my bag addiction.

GPS

Let me tell you something: GPS travel is the most screwed up thing ever.

You have two choices: fastest or shortest, each with their own cross to bear. You either go 30 miles out of your way to take all major interstates, or take every ridiculous back road possible to your destination.

YOU JUST CANNOT WIN.

These damn devices scream out orders to brain-dead Americans who couldn't tell you what direction is north from south on a map (like myself). "TURN LEFT IN 2.0 MILES" becomes the only reverberation in your car as your music can't seem to cancel out the cranky voice that booms out of the box mounted to your dash. And you can't forget the dreaded "RECALCULATING" when you screw up its mandates to you.

I took my GPS to Marinette, WI today. A trip that should have taken me circa two and a half hours turned into a four hour ordeal. "Shortest distance" involved going through a populated Iola, WI where the local car show featuring thousands of car enthusiasts was going on, as well as taking every road possible to stay away from any form of civilization or state road that might actually have another car on it at the same time as mine.

Road construction through Oconto also created a problem, seeing as the entire road was completely torn to shit, and I had to retrace a good fifteen miles to get back onto a road that would take me an additional 20 miles out of my way.

And my damn box just kept shouting at me, ordering me around. I can just feel my blood pressure rise as that box gets incrementally louder as you screw up and disobey orders more and more.

AND TO TOP IT OFF, the technology continues to get more advanced, and therefore more "helpful," adding features like Speed Warning, which analyzes what roads you are driving on and alerts you with a trumpet making a noise similar to those heard at horse derbies.

We pay a box to scream orders at us. What a society.

A feeling you just can't shake

Below rests a journal entry entailing a journey I still am embarking on. A journey of acceptance of myself and of unchangeable circumstances.

For every person out there who has given your all and lost it, I think you'll be able to relate. But the penultimate feeling that should resound from this is this: underneath all of this hurt and pain, where does it stem? What is the root of pain in this situation.

I think you'll see what I found my answer to be.

*******

Oh, you make me so upset.

You have kicked me around in one of the worst ways possible, and I just can't seem to forgive myself or you. I can't. I feel like my life is on pause when it needs to be in fast-forward mode just to catch up.

I feel more cautious because of you. I listen to songs that say "You're all I need," but I obviously don't' "need" you. But the addiction of the relationship isn't gone. It won't be.

You were my first love. Forever and always.

All that kissy shit.

Accusatory? Do I accuse you, or should I accuse myself? The competition for the amount of hurt I feel is not the case, but rather just an integral part of me keeping things "black and white" for my understand. Are you hurting or not? Do I miss him or not? Yes or no. Black or white.

"Yeah. The world sucks. But lumping guys into this category will get you nowhere."

Thanks for that slap across the face, friend. I know that. I get it. Lumping "guys" into a category close to the status of "scum of the earth" is going to make me hurt, and it will jeopardize everything I have with anyone else or would like to.

Why do my eyes still water when they should be dry for the next ten years? Why do I look at mementos of you when all I want to do is delete and tear them up?

Why do I seem to be stuck in this rut? It's just full of loneliness, not only because you stepped away, but because the more I dwell on this destruction, the more it pushes others away from me.

What is my worst fear? That I don't trust everyone else, or that I don't trust myself? That taking a chance will put me through this again, or that no one will compare?

I don't trust myself anymore.

Under the Stars

Come take a walk with me,

Under the stars.

Where the crickets chirp,

And Facebook doesn't strip you of your dignity.

Come walk with me,

Where we talk about everything

While we talk about nothing,

And everything feels right.

Come lay by me,

Under the stars.

I hold out my hand,

but wait...it was once your hand that wanted mine.

I lay under the stars,

With your silhouette looking down on me.

And you frown,

Disappointment creeping over both of our faces.

And you walk away.

Leaving me under the stars.

Music

Music: the key to who we all really are.

Whether you are a creeper, a love-sick soul, a heavy-metal headbanger, or just a subdued classical music aficionado, the music that we listen to and greet into our ears defines who we are. What's even more interesting is how it can explain us to people who we don't even know better than our actions.

Let's say that Ralph has a date with a man he recently met. Ralph drives both of them from his place to a fine-dining restaurant in the heart of Chicago, a great little Italian bistro. On the way there, Ralph engages in great conversation while consulting his iPod. He could go into many playlists, but he chooses pop music. The first song that comes on is from the Hannah Montana soundtrack. What has Ralph just done to the date? In my opinion, he just lost.

Why? Because Hannah Montana is not only a little prissy bitch, but also she is completely not right for a male that is age 20+. Ralph just said a lot about his personality simply by a touch of an iPod. His date, although he may appear to enjoy the music playing and laugh about it, makes a mental documentation that Ralph appears to be stuck in childhood in a very creepy way.

This extreme example can only hint at what music says. Mental documentations are made every day about us: our appearance, our hair, eye color, body contour. However, no one processes that what comes out of your iPod headphones, what blasts outs of your car speakers, and what your iTunes decides to serenade your parties with shares a piece of what you with everyone.

Music is empowerment as well as expression. I cry to music, sing and belt it out, and also cringe at some because the words that pour out of the notes and lyrics are so powerful that it makes me hurt. The artists that sing to us are some of the most poetic people out there. They have a gift of expressing the most happiest moments as well as the most painful. We sing to them, we sway to them, and treat the lyrics as if they were our own to nurture.

Music is definition. And it says a lot about all of us.

Driving

I love driving. And driving fast, I might add.

Which is why incompetent drivers really piss me off.

You are going down a stretch of highway, and you clearly know as you are driving that the left lane is for expedited drivers. Drivers who have a destination, and don't have time to settle for a mediocre 65 MPH limit. They know what they are doing, both in terms of time and and terms of the law. It's a risk you take.

And damn it, if I want to risk it, I want every stupid idiot out of my way.

Multiple techniques exist to really make your point clear that you are sick of idiots. Flash your brights. Ride their tailgate (a.k.a. "ride their ass). Honk if necessary. And if really upset, use finger signals and gestures to make your point solidified.

So then why is it that people still do not get that they cannot drive like idiots around non-idiot drivers? It is beyond me.

Who are these culprits of such sinful actions? I hate to say it, but it is typically older citizens, with target groups of ages 55 and higher. They live in a world where time is not of the essence, where they know that their destination is not urgent, nor do they care if it is. It's great tranquility for these people, while I grip on to my steering wheel as I feel the blood flow being cut off to it.

Who do you yell at? What can you do? I find myself belting out my iPod songs louder as I get gradually more frustrated, but really there is nothing to be done.

If I send any message it is this: please pass on the word that driving is only for members of society who deserve the right because they can deduce things like right lane / left lane, and to recognize that if they see a red car with a bunch of hail dents to get the f*@& out of the way.

And I'm done.

Accessorizing a Computer

God damn it. All I want is two monitors.

I want the ability to be a nerd, having two monitors glaring me in the face with all their data, their glamor. And hell, I want to be able to watch a movie on one while being productive on the other. How hard is this?

Well, apparently pretty hard. Accessorizing anything in this American society is pretty damn difficult. We have bags that need to go with the color of our dress. We have an American Eagle shirt that couldn't possibly go with Hollister jeans. And we have a monitor that does not feel like it wants to be with another on the same desk.

Why so hard?

Because some greedy bitch in California, when designing my piece of shit workstation, must have thought that it would be hilarious if someday down the line, that the owner wanted to be a tremendous nerd and have two screens, that he or she shouldn't be allowed such a simple fix. Oh no. They would need to invest more than $99.99 for a monitor, $28.00 for a cord to split the signal, and then watch as the young aficionado struggles to make sense that everything he paid for is useless unless more hundreds are put on his silver shiny magic card, where money vanishes at the swish of a wrist.

ALL I WANT IS TWO MONITORS! HOW HARD IS THIS?

Public versus Private

I recently opened up about a month and a half ago a blog entitled "I Really Got Lucky..." which turned out to be highly therapeutic, but also a tad disruptive to my every day life. I felt the need to channel a lot of emotion, hurt, and anger into that blog that quite frankly none of you want to see, read, hear, or experience.

Thus why I have decided to make another blog, ending this battle of what should be "private" and what should be "public."

Blogging is completely releiving for me. It is a great comfort to be able to flow words onto a screen and have them gone from inside you. Words want to escape all the time--its just how you get them out that makes all the difference.

As some of you may recall way back in the day, I had a newspaper that I ran called Andy's Life 101 which was basically my mock of society and all its stupid little quirks and issues. I think its time to bring that style of writing back, and embrace that cynical and funny part of me again.

So please, enjoy the resurrection of Andy's Life 101!

-A.S. Keating