The sensations of sight and sound were strange and almost unwelcome when i found myself back in the courtyard. My joyous existence was cut short, literally, by a pair of garden shears. I recalled my slow death by starvation as i was deprived of both light and nourishment from my mother plant. I brought joy to someone with my death, and i tried to take solace in that. I avoided thinking of my shriveled body being tossed out when i was wrinkled and no longer attractive.
So much waste in all the lives i'd lived. So much sadness and waste. I wondered for the first time if the brief spikes of joy were worth all the pain and loss i experienced every time i lived. The neatly-dressed woman took my hand and sat down with me.
"It doesn't have to be like this, i think you know that by now," she said matter-of-factly.
"Why are you all doing this?"
She shrugged. "You don't have to choose it. Nobody does."
"But what about The Plan he's supposed to have for us? What about the conveyors. . . the Samsara? You're with-holding God from people! They deserve to know!""
"You still have free will. You have to choose him. And people do know. Some sooner than others," she said, looking pointedly at me. She got up and left me with my thoughts to make my decision. My thoughts returned to the pains and joys of my collective experiences with life. It wasn't worth it, i decided, and then i got the call.
I drifted toward the platform, my thoughts everywhere and nowhere. I felt peaceful instead of numb. I stepped onto the conveyor and i crouched down. I couldn't resist the urge to look at my co-riders. I saw the jumpers and i felt pity for them as i rode toward the light i'd never noticed before.
She was in the throes of the disease and she knew it. She could feel it roiling around in her head, struggling to escape. The knowledge that she wouldn't be able to hold out against the compulsion to spill it out on the next hapless person ate at her, conspiring with the disease to weaken her already diminishing resolve. She didn't want to succumb to it, but she also knew it was the only way relief would come. Sweet relief.
She excused herself to the restroom and shut herself in among the empty stalls and sterile-white walls, locking the door, to take refuge in the solitude. No one here, no one to infect, she thought weakly to herself, knowing the solution was only temporary at best. It wasn't fair to the others and she knew it, taking up the facilities like this. People would wonder why the door was locked, since the restroom was not a one-seater. No matter. It was for their own good. They didn't understand the burden she carried.
"They will soon enough!" the diseased laughed at her and she froze with her back against the door. Is it self-aware? Or was her mind playing tricks on her?
"You could pass it on to one person."
She slid down the door, drawing her knees up against her chest, and laid her head down on her knees. She had promised she wouldn't pass it on to anyone.
"Just one! It's enough to make you feel better, and minimal damage done."
She began rocking back and forth numbly. It had a point. It wasn't like she was going to tell EVERYONE, right?
"This is too much to carry around inside your own head. It'd be better for you to share the burden. Your best friend would gladly help you, and then you could support each other."
That made sense. She knew she was rationalizing, but she was past caring. She didn't even jump at the sharp rap on the door behind her.
"Is everything okay in there?" she heard concern fighting irritation in her best friend's voice from the other side of the door.
"Fine! Just fine, i had to clean up a bit of a mess," she called back, standing up to open the door. She inhaled deeply and fought down the guilt of what she was about to do. The lock slid back with an audible click. No turning back now, she thought, as she composed her face. The disease plastered a smile on it for good measure.
Her friend pushed past her and looked at her strangely. "You don't look too good," she commented critically.
She sighed inwardly and gave in. "I'm fine, really. But you wouldn't BELIEVE what Jessica just told me!"
Her friend looked eagerly at her and leaned in closer. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and the disease flew free from her mouth, into her friend's ear, infecting her mind. Relief and guilt inundated her as she drew her friend in and shared the gossip.
"What?! That whore!" her friend exclaimed, giddy with the same burning desire to spread the gossip that she herself was just fighting with. The intensity of her friend's eyes made her blurt out the thing that had tormented her only moments ago:
"Don't tell anyone, okay?" She could see the struggle beginning behind her friend's eyes. She felt a little pity for her friend and knew that her request was futile.
"Oh, no! I promise! I would never! . . ." The protestations went on. It was like her friend had heard her earlier, similar oaths and was parroting them back at her, a cruel reminder of her own broken promises. She remembered uttering them and truly meaning them. The disease, she shamefully admitted to herself, was stronger than her.
I stopped listening to the radio a couple of years ago when i got an iPod and was given the option to listen only to music i enjoy, and i do not watch MTV or VH1 or any of the other television-based music channels out there (if there are any more). My recent music sources would've been fairly well limited to new releases from bands i already like if it wasn't for Ryan. He's the one who springs music i've never heard before on me.
A few months ago he im'd me this video for a song called Electric Feel. The video itself was fun to watch, but the song was absolutely atrocious. He said he didn't like it much the first time he heard it either, so i gave it a few more listens to see if it'd grow on me. It failed to do so. I don't know why, but it just sounded cheesy as hell to me. He, on the other hand, liked it a lot, and i received more exposure to it when he was over at my house for the weekends. I still didn't like it any better for the extra exposure. I believe he did tell me that MGMT sang it, but it was information i did not retain.
A few weeks ago he played another song by them for me called The Handshake. It was kind of lucky that i didn't remember it was the same Electric Feel people as i tend to reject music by artists whose songs i've heard before and dislike (not one of my better personality traits, but there it is anyway). I was in love with The Handshake before they even started to sing, and after he played it he sent it to me along with pretty much the rest of the CD.
I must say, my first impression of this band was WAY off. It's been a very long time since i heard a band that made me feel like a teenager again, but this one definitely does. By making me feel like a teenager, i mean i can sit and listen to this CD (repeatedly) while doing nothing else and be entertained. It gives me that sense of undefined longing/anticipation that i remember so well from my early teens. . . that feeling that something was going to happen, though i couldn't say what it was, only i desperately wanted it to.
The Handshake remains my favourite for its dreamy, underwater-like qualities. It makes me feel like i'm sinking away underneath gentle effervescent waves when i close my eyes. Its climax (for me) comes at the end, and it pours goosebumps down my spine and arms when it does.
Time To Pretend (once i got past the annoying hook at the beginning) is a close second. It brings a delicious feeling of melancholy resignation over how life should be vs the way it really is.
The rest of the CD doesn't bring about any particular poignant emotion in me. It's milder, but still stirring and complex. I love this band.
Yes it's a free(ish) country, and your blog is your blog to do with as you see fit. Unfortunately for you, that also means i get to rant about it if i dislike it. So i'm now going to bitch about the Video-Message Blogger.
If you're one of those people who finds themselves posting a blog with several videos with a few sentences in between them exclaiming that you think this video says exactly what you want to say, then perhaps you aught to just comment on the video itself and forgo the "blog" altogether. Maybe embed it in a bulletin, if you feel the need to share. But if you have something you want to say, SAY IT! Don't get something/someone else to do it for you. It just makes you look like you can't articulate your own thoughts.
There's nothing wrong with doing that, i suppose. I'm not even sure why it annoys me so much. Maybe it's because if i wanted to watch videos, i'd cruise over to Youtube. It doesn't bother me at all if there's ONE video or a few pictures thrown in to emphasize or illustrate a point (example: The Mad Goat's Moment of Zen is fine with me).
But when it's [video] Omg, this expresses how i feel so much! [video] and this one is so expressive it's exactly what i mean [video] and so does this one omg! [video] and in conclusion, [video] omg do you see what i mean?
Congratulations, you've said absolutely nothing, and taken up a bunch of my time in doing it.
"So skip the blog and don't read it if it bothers you so much! And for the love of God, quit whining about it!", you may be saying to yourself right about now. And, in reply, i say 'reading' it is a bit of a stretch; it's more like 'watching'. I do skip those blogs now. And fuck you, I'll whine all i like.
Are there any?
Say it's someone i don't personally know, and never rly got "close" to. Do i send a message explaining why i no longer want to see their annoying updates and bulletins?
What if they're the people-collector types? Do i de-friends them and hope they don't notice? I doubt they'll miss me out of their 6000 "friends".
What if they're drama-queens? Is it okay to just snub a drama queen?
I've been de-friendsed with, and i never lost any sleep over why it used to say 88 and now it says 87. I didn't obsess over who let me go. I'm probably making too much of something yet again, but i'd like to know if there's a right way to kick someone out of your online life.
Stop reading if i've written this one before. I know i've explained it to people before, but i simply can't remember if i've posted my feelings here or not, and i haven't the desire to sift through everything i've written to find out.
I'm just gonna come right out and say it. I do NOT like Christmas. I'm not one of those Jesus Is The Reason For The Season types, and if you are, that's fantastic, i really hope you actually feel that way. No, i'm much worse. I'm one of those trite-sounding Christmas Has Become Way Too Commercialized people. Have i lost you yet?
The idea of Christmas is an appealing one. It's families gathered around trees, drinking their hot beverages, reminiscing while kids frolic from gift to gift, eyes open in wonder and thrill at Santa's generosity. Or maybe it's a quiet night-time scene with a couple sitting by the open fire with the lights off and the tree lit. Or maybe it's a darkened living room with the tree lit, the stockings silhouetted against the burning embers of the fire of a few hours earlier. Peace. Quiet. Happiness. Anticipation. Desires fulfilled.
For those who make this ideal Christmas their reality, my hat is off to you.
To me, the ideal of Christmas has been corrupted into rushed shopping, over-spending one's budget, and the pressure to appear happy and wealthy enough to fulfill all one's loved ones' desires. In short, this:
As December 25th approaches, people are freaking out because they still haven't bought anything for Barb and John, whom they don't really like all THAT much, but they know they got them something this year and don't want to appear unthoughtful or stingy. There are people out there who aren't happy, but because this is supposed to be the "happiest season of all", they feel the need to put on the happy face. To me, it's all pressure to be what Corporate America has dictated the season should be.
If it were up to me, my family wouldn't buy me Happy December 25th gifts. I'm old enough to go out and purchase something if i want it. I hate having to think of something i want for Christmas because i might be difficult to shop for. I hate having to ask people what they want for Christmas because i find them difficult to shop for.
If it were up to me, people would send Christmas cards, gather if they could, or call if they couldn't. They wouldn't save gift-giving for one day a year, they'd come across something that made them think of me (whether it be in December or March), and send it because they were thinking of me. I'd much rather receive a gift because someone thought of me than because it's the official Day To Give Gifts. It would take the pressure out of gift-giving (especially for those who couldn't necessarily afford it in the first place), and make it much more meaningful. Wouldn't a gift be more special to you if you got it out of the blue with a note that said, "This made me think of you, i hope you like it" than if you received a gift that was just something-anything because that person had to come up with a gift because they didn't want to be the cheap jerk that didn't buy you anything for Christmas?
I guess what i'm trying to say is Christmas is for children. Buy your kids all the things they want for Christmas, because you love them, and it's fun to play Santa Claus. But Christmas for adults should be materially minimized. Bah-Humbug? Maybe. But i can't help feeling this way. So if you're a family member of mine reading this, and you're having difficulty thinking of something to get me for Christmas, then just don't get me anything at all! I promise i won't be upset.
I was reading a blog by Jacob about Thanksgiving, and i was struck by this line:
We all in some way or form feel the need to want to "stay close" or "in touch" with our relatives. Why? Is it because you like them and/or share common interests and ideas? It got me to thinking about the concept of family. Most people i know get along well with a couple of their family members, well enough with more family members if exposed in small doses, and not well at all with the rest though they pretend to for the sake of peace. I was thinking it would be nice if one could get on as well with all the family as they did with the ones they got along with the best. It seems unfortunate that one can't pick one's family members at times.
. . . which got me thinking. What if you COULD pick your family? Imagine having the ability to surround yourself only with people you like, and who like you in return. Gone would be the maternal complaints that you need to settle down and start having a family. No more disappointment from your father that you didn't go to medical school, or become a famous defense attorney. Sibling rivalry? Never again! Your siblings would be supportive of your endeavors, or you could opt for no siblings at all. If you didn't want to work, you could fix yourself up with rich parents and live the socialite life. The possibilities are endless!
It seems like a good fantasy on the surface, but there's one glaring flaw: Just because your new family of people you like are fond of you doesn't mean they'd be fond of each other. Imagine you've picked Martha Stewart as your mom and, say, Gene Simmons as your dad. I can't see those two getting along at all. While they'd think the world of you (assuming they never found out you were the one who paired them in the first place and started resenting you for making their lives miserable), they'd drive you insane with their constant fighting and bickering.
The other major problem with the idea of family member selection is: your current family. Whether you like them or not, they had a major role in shaping you into the person you are today. If you changed your family, you'd also change yourself. Could be a good thing or a bad thing (how would you know till you did it?), but would that be okay with you?Being around people you dislike or don't get along well with can be an exercise in character building. With the family, it's also an exercise in patience and respect, and in the building and maintaining of relationships. These are the people who keep us from being one dimensional with their nitpickiness and their criticisms. We may not always like what they have to say, but sometimes there's truth at the core of the unpleasantness of what they're saying. Not always, but sometimes.
So i don't know if i'd pick my family members even if i could. Would you? Who would you pick?
