|To kill a mockingbird...
||[Jun. 11th, 2006|06:40 pm]
Well, let's give this a second shot, shall we? It's been several days since I posted last, and quite a bit has happened since then, mostly undesireable. Due to the constant, unbelievable puerility of a particular "man" in my life, the road through this week has been a little more than rocky. It is refreshing to learn, however, that I have good friends in places unexpected (i.e.- mr_sunyata). My thanks to you again, friend. Irrespective of the bullshit, I've learned some valuable lessons this week that I soon hope to implement:
The first is a lesson learned long ago, although I still have a lot of work to do integrating it into my everyday practice. I would say that I'm definitely a patient person. I would also venture that I'm easily angered and easily calmed again. However, in this beautiful mystery called life sometimes things happen that push one to one's limits, causing one to reevaluate and push the limits themselves. A thing of this sort happened Wednsday night, stirring the most ancient and primal rage within me. For those friends who've known me a long time and never encountered my temper, and for those brand spankin' new internet pals I've yet to meet, I am a horrible brute when I'm angry, and I tend to hit stuff. Provoked by my current situation, goaded toward rage by His Royal and Most Magnificent Highness the Man-king of the Dismal Weeping, I pushed my fist through a very sharp and painful object last Wednsday night. The lesson that lies herein is that I can't let the idiotic actions and words of others cloud my mind or influence me into hurting myself or damaging things. It's hard to incorporate this into everyday routine when possessed by such anger, but I'm working on it. At least it's things I'm hitting and not people, eh?
Well, after shattering this deadly cutter, my arm and hand were pretty covered in blood. Some other thoughts occured to me then. I'll tell you, friends, there's something in the sight of blood that trickles its way into your brain. Maybe its the harsh red contrast to a world so covered in green, maybe its just that blood usually means pain. One way or the other, blood makes me think, fuels my soul in a way only a few people can. Of course, seeing one's own knuckle on the inside is pretty thought provoking too. The point is, after breaking what I broke, I calmed down quickly, reassessed what had made me angry, and took control of myself. I then apologized to those I had wronged, and went to sleep.
Thursday was filled with far less emotional discontent, but inspired some thoughts nonetheless. Stacey and I went and saw the Lusty Revel Wenches with our friend Krystle at some dive bar in Wicker Park. The show was pretty fun, though brief, and seeing it invoked mixed reactions in me. Their music was a crapulous journey into gypsy-bacchanalia- fun and anachronistic at its best, intensely disharmonic and eristic at its worst- and I felt both pierced and limp by the dissonance, amused by their stage antics, and a little disappointed at the sloppy dwindling that ended their set. I think the show would've been many times better if they hadn't been quite so fucked up. The music was good, the lyrics and stage presense humorous, and the intoxicated ramblings and impromptu shouts into the mic obnoxious as hell. Summary: I have high hopes for these kids if they can get their act together and focus on the music.
Friday I went and packed organic vegetables in a warehouse on the southside- ghetto fantastic! I thoroughly enjoy this job. There's not really a boss, I get paid well- in cash, tax free, and I can smuggle as much organic fruit and as many veggies into my bag as I want. It's beautiful, really, but short lived: I start my job as a bike courier later this week.
Saturday was spent reading Children of Dune; by far the most talkative, longwinded, and action-dessicated Dune novel so far. Goddamn, Frank Herbert, come on! Anyway, with the exception of also having my person completely denigrated, reading pretty much took up the whole day.
And today, Sunday, has been mostly quiet. Stacey Marie brought some concerns to my attention, and I understand and thank her for her insight. I've considered these things well, in the past and at present, and I realize I still have a long way to go on my road to self-discovery and self-improvement. I'm just glad I learned so many long years ago that the only way to improve oneself is to realize one's mistakes. I hope some other, less positive people in this city can learn that lesson before it's too late.
I conclude with a quote:
"A ship should not ride on a single anchor, nor life on a single hope." ~ Epictetus