art

What is art? A question that I've been pondering for a few days. Proposed to me by Jonny. A simple question that has taken hours of my attention. Art to me is language. Literature. Poetry. Words. The use of words can be abused by the ignorant, or can created mental imagery by the artistic. The book I'm reading is called "A Walk through the woods". Written by Bill Bryson, it's a simple 300 page story about his walk through the appalachain trail. For $8 and a dozen hours you can get a vivid recounting of the experiences he endured. Time binding in it's purest form. 300 pages of words can put the imagination of anyone, in any part of the World beside him on that trail. Simply beautiful how words can override the mind like that. Writing will be my artform. I've started to notice the beauty in slogans, signs, and the words my co-workers use to express themselves. I have a tremendous amount of respect for a carefully written sentence. I've always enjoyed classic writings, such as Thoreau, Emmerson, Paine, Smith and I'm starting to realize why. Their books, essays, and short stories have been revered for years because of the time they took to craft each sentence. Hemmingway is the only author I can think of who is more direct in his writing than Thomas Paine, but Paine has a beauty and flow to his writing that I haven't read in much of Hemmingway's writing. I have tremendous respect for these men. This week has been important. I've discovered my artform....

All I saw today was attractive young people together with their attractive significant others. Seeing so many people my age happy, and unconcerned brought me down. Seeing love made me realize I'm missing something. I am not missing having a girl friend. I am missing a way to control my sexual energy and use it for creative purposes. Sexual transmutation. I have been unable to control my energy, my desire and channel that energy into a creative outlet. I've stopped thinking about girls as the end-all solution to my bouts of negative emotion. I need to take the dependancy of having a woman love me and learn to be stable alone. In order to do that I need to figure out a way I can express myself in a beneficial way. I don't think women are evil, and I still maintain the position that I will find a wonderful woman at some point in the future. Depending on the affection of another to feel stable seems a bit silly to me. I must continue to learn to be self-sustainable. For the first time in a very long while I'm going to.....draw! Time to force creativity to start flowing.

Fresh, ripe canteloupe, and fat-free blueberry greek yogurt. It's the little simple things in life that help me find pockets of time where I feel the World is well, and I can relax. 3 weeks ago I was holding a lot of stress about fixing my condo, finding a renter, checking out of my command, and checking in to State Department. Now I'm in the middle of the process and I feel silly about giving time to those worries. 1 week into May and I'm already 50% of the way done. 5 weeks let and I've already found a renter for a 1 year contract, and I've found a safe place to call home in Arlington. I'm feeling a lot of pride, which isn't very common for me. Living the majority of my adult life alone has required me to try and continually impress, and entertain myself. The word of 2011 has been balance. Balance. For me, that means a balance between work, and fun. Personal life, and career. Between study, and relaxing. A successful, confident man has achieved balance in his life. This is what I must accomplish this year.

Cinco De Mayo doesn't mean anything when you're sober...

What determines mood? Quite an intriguing question that I've been thinking about for the better part of the day. External influences? Internal belief? Is it created of a layer in the subconcious, or is mood a concious decision based upon the assumed emotional reaction of sleep/health/external influences? Is mood a congnitive process, or is it automatically generated by a part of the brain we can reach with our inner-dialogue? For the first time in a long time I haven't had an inner dialogue, or any natural pull towards either end of the positive/negative spectrum. The day has been sort of phoned-in. I don't think I've paid attention to a single thing since I woke up.
I received 3 awards yesterday (an unusual amount of awards to receive in less than 1 year in the Navy). On the other hand, my 5 day old car had a dead battery this morning... More of a negative impact, for the first time for as long as I can remember the stock market, gold, silver, and the dollar are all down for 4 consecutive days. I just put $5,000 into an ETF named AGQ that measures the price of silver. I purchased the shares last Thursday, and since then the ETF has lost 50% (or $2,500). I'm not very happy about that. The bubble on silver has burst. And I am at the completely wrong end of the bubble. Now I have to wait for who knows how long... This one actually hurt since I thought silver was a relatively stable commodity. Guess not. My portfolio has gone from $13,000 to a little over $9,000 in 4 days... All against my theory that the jubilation brought about by Bin Laden's death would carry-over into wall street. I'm not panicing, since the market is cyclical, as is everything else in life. I'm just not happy about having my ego put in check, and realizing once again that I don't actually know anything. Time to go put in 5 miles on the track. Time to get excited!

3 May 2011

I've been encouraged to create a blog by several people. When I try and perceive myself from an outside vantage point I can understand how I appear austere, and troubled. I do have quite a history of moodiness, and swings from happy to sad. This must peak people's curiosity. Why do I do the things I do, and what am I thinking? Those are two questions I've been asked quite frequently by people in the military, and strangers I've met over the last 4 years. For those who haven't seen my emotional spectrum, and learned my mannerisms it must be hard at times to experience my behavior. Or not....haha. Played a double header of softball today. We were down by 2 runs in the second game and I was the last out. NOT being the best player on the field, and NOT winning fucking tear me up. I had the opportunity to change the outcome and I choked. That's not like me to fail at a challenge. Especially one as easy as slow-pitch softball. Talking with Jonny today helped me get back into a more positive mind-set, as talking with him usually tends to do. The time has come for me to wrap this post up. Tonight I get to read "Compensation: An Essay" by Ralph Waldo Emmerson. Napoleon Hill says it is a classic. I trust Mr. Hill's judgement.

This blog had no impact on me emotionally. Perhaps the next one...

Written on 10 Mar 2011 in Mosul, Iraq.

--10 Mar 11: Mosul Iraq--

I have no other template to write on, so I'm forced to write on this. One of the rare times I choose a computer over the paper. I have noone that will actually be able to hear what my thoughts are saying, so I must scribble them out to myself to reflect upon at a later date. I'm scared. Scared about many things. My main concern is that I'm losing my friends. I'm losing my ability to love. I no longer have joy in my life. Just daily motions that bring about anxiety, or release. Nothing beyond the constraints of medeocre. I used to be teaming with energy. Emotion. At times I felt like a volcano about to boil over with frustration, or desire. Now.....I honestly can't find a path in life. I feel like if I got all I ever wanted in life, it wouldn't cause a change to anything. We're all stuck in our paths and there is nothing that can change our direction. Will I ever be able to truly love again? The kind of love that consumes the heart, the soul, the mind? My soul is empty. My path is a curt circle. Alone I wander around and around expecting it will lead me out of this melloncholly alcove. There is no going forward. There is no going back. There is just the pitiful now. The human existence is a wasteful mistake. There is no creation. There is only death. Sad, sad death. The point of life is to die. The only truth is death. Sadness....and death. Everything else is a fearful distraction from the truth. The truth that every one of us will die solidly, and soon. I want to die right now. I've always had a problem with patience. 80 years of hollow existence is a heavy burden. When I'm looking at two roads the choice is hard. One....sweet permanent death. The other...uncertain bull shit that will consume and demand me to be what I don't want to be, do what I don't want to do. I only have 1 life and why can't I control it? Why? Freedom has been what I've been seeking my entire life. I will always be a slave to something my entire life. There is no point in reproduction, there is no point in continuance, there is no cocuun transformation waiting. Just death. I'm staring at death and I want it to come. Now is better than later. Now I can get it over with. The sooner I go the sooner I will be forgotten, and the sooner those who knew me can move on with the rest of their lives. They've all been fortunate enough to be blessed with ignorance, and love. Don't know why I was cursed with the truth, and isolation. While I'm still here my hunt for the answer will continue. I wish to fall into a deep coma, and never wake again. What will be able to distract me tomorrow? What illusion of purpose will hold my attention? I hope that one day I have the ability to drain the disease that floods my soul. Now I am tormented with sadness.......hollow....Left to follow.....Desire for alcohol and heroin still call to me at night before I'm able to sleep. Seems the peaceful and proper way to go. Overdose on bliss.....What other choice could a hollow empty life make? Gluttony could be what frees me. I'll never be able to show anyone this writing. I've been able to pretend I can feel up to this point. Quite remarkable. Where does this deep void come from? What is the difference between my life now, and the daily routine of a mental institution? Heavily medicated has an appeal.... For now I'll keep stretching my lower back, because it doesn't help get rid of any pain, and I'll keep writing to myself, because it doesn't do anything to make me feel better. My two releases aren't even for me....I wish to drown in alcohol. The proper way to die.

Fuck everything. This is all a waste of my time. I've been writing this same shit for over 10 years. I hope I choke on a piece of bread tomorrow. At least if I die now my friends/family will get paid. Boo frickin' hoo. More wasted days here we come.