Distance;
Whether a self imposed wall
Or a physical limitation,
It leads to a space where no one can push through.
Doubt. Fear. The crushing desire to run.
To, from. Towards, away.
It depends.
But in the end,
It is not the distance that grows or shrinks;
It is your attitude and your will.
Today was a normal day. Well, not really. I spent it with a friend, feeling safe and happy.
And then something happened. A phrase. A simple phrase took me to a place where I should not be.
I shrugged it off, but even now I can feel it nagging at me and pushing to the front of my mind.
Even now, my hands are shaking. I'm trying so hard to... not let it effect me. Or my actions, my words, my presence.
My friend, a man that would never do to me what my mind is nagging at, doesn't deserve to be attached to anything remotely close to that.
My fear, my topic and my thoughts are; will I ever be able to disassociate men with him?
Some say yes. Some say no.
I just tremble and try to hide it.
I'm sick of hiding.
I'm sick of distance.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Abandon Ship
It's a unique experience to watch a company crumble from the inside, to watch it fall from the ground floor. I work at a retail outlet, one that seems to be on it's last days. Pretty much everyone can see it, economists, stock holders, customers, and even the Managers are now admitting the possibility of the inevitable. There only seems to be one group of people that don't see the company's end, the people running corprate.
From the inside I can see the death pangs all around me, the scrambling of executives to try and keep the business going. First came the changes to stock, the expense easiest to cut down on without any bad PR. Our shipments, once a regular occurrence at the beginning of the week, now come in several deliveries, most coming at the end of the week. Our supplies became limited, orders were not being filled, a long stretch of time passed where my store had no plastic bags for customers, my boss had to purchase generic bags from an office supply store out of his own pocket. When new bags did come, they were of the same make as the ones my Manager had purchased, and had no company logo.
The next on the chopping block was customer policy. Months we heard about this, a change to the store policy, but it never really came. With the coming of the zero hour, it happened, we were given only a weeks notice of it. The policy changed to one with the obvious intent to grab more revenue, worded in a way that made it sound beneficial to the customer. The simple problem with this whole change is that altering a policy when your customer base is steadily declining does not work, chasing away customers who do not like the new policy, while those who stay with the company not being enough to maintain the slight increase to revenue per customer.
Still bleeding money, there was one more place to turn, payroll. Stores began to shut down, and those who remained open began to see a cut in available hours. Employees went from an average of four shifts per week at twenty to thirty hours to two shifts a week at ten to fifteen hours. The company, attempting to entice their employees to stay with these massive cuts to hours and news of the company's impending collapse, gave out incentives. These incentives though, were lacking, no real benefit to an employee losing nearly half of their average paycheck now.
I sit back and I watch these steps play out, I watch as a company desperately tries to cut corners instead of improve business. I think about the people soon to be out of a job, I think of myself being out of a job. Mostly, though, I think about the men and women who run the business from up high, people who refused to evolve with time. These people who clung ignorantly to the old ways while technology made them obsolete. These people who saw their business floundering years ago and refused to update, who chose to try and cut costs instead of trying to draw in business. I get angry at these men and women, who are responsible for the welfare of thousands of employees who will soon be jobless. I get angry at these people who had the opportunity to pioneer the new wave of their business, but instead refused and allowed others to do it instead. Those others who soon became competition, and killed this company... But we handed them the gun through inaction.
When I first took this job I knew it was a dying industry, I gave the company five years before it would fall. After working a while I changed my prediction to three years, I've now been working there for two years, and it doesn't look like this business will last more than another year. I face once again the possibility for unemployment, right now it seems like a certainty, though I may be wrong. Who am I to assume the cost cutting won't work, that we'll retain the gross to pull ourselves out of debt, that this company will be able to stay on it's feet for a while longer?
If it does, I just hope someone in charge understands it's time to evolve.
From the inside I can see the death pangs all around me, the scrambling of executives to try and keep the business going. First came the changes to stock, the expense easiest to cut down on without any bad PR. Our shipments, once a regular occurrence at the beginning of the week, now come in several deliveries, most coming at the end of the week. Our supplies became limited, orders were not being filled, a long stretch of time passed where my store had no plastic bags for customers, my boss had to purchase generic bags from an office supply store out of his own pocket. When new bags did come, they were of the same make as the ones my Manager had purchased, and had no company logo.
The next on the chopping block was customer policy. Months we heard about this, a change to the store policy, but it never really came. With the coming of the zero hour, it happened, we were given only a weeks notice of it. The policy changed to one with the obvious intent to grab more revenue, worded in a way that made it sound beneficial to the customer. The simple problem with this whole change is that altering a policy when your customer base is steadily declining does not work, chasing away customers who do not like the new policy, while those who stay with the company not being enough to maintain the slight increase to revenue per customer.
Still bleeding money, there was one more place to turn, payroll. Stores began to shut down, and those who remained open began to see a cut in available hours. Employees went from an average of four shifts per week at twenty to thirty hours to two shifts a week at ten to fifteen hours. The company, attempting to entice their employees to stay with these massive cuts to hours and news of the company's impending collapse, gave out incentives. These incentives though, were lacking, no real benefit to an employee losing nearly half of their average paycheck now.
I sit back and I watch these steps play out, I watch as a company desperately tries to cut corners instead of improve business. I think about the people soon to be out of a job, I think of myself being out of a job. Mostly, though, I think about the men and women who run the business from up high, people who refused to evolve with time. These people who clung ignorantly to the old ways while technology made them obsolete. These people who saw their business floundering years ago and refused to update, who chose to try and cut costs instead of trying to draw in business. I get angry at these men and women, who are responsible for the welfare of thousands of employees who will soon be jobless. I get angry at these people who had the opportunity to pioneer the new wave of their business, but instead refused and allowed others to do it instead. Those others who soon became competition, and killed this company... But we handed them the gun through inaction.
When I first took this job I knew it was a dying industry, I gave the company five years before it would fall. After working a while I changed my prediction to three years, I've now been working there for two years, and it doesn't look like this business will last more than another year. I face once again the possibility for unemployment, right now it seems like a certainty, though I may be wrong. Who am I to assume the cost cutting won't work, that we'll retain the gross to pull ourselves out of debt, that this company will be able to stay on it's feet for a while longer?
If it does, I just hope someone in charge understands it's time to evolve.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
What Is Beauty?
Looking beyond the colored veil.
You can see the flicker, the shimmer.
The music is there, hiding.
It jumps, excited and overjoyed.
You need but open your mouth,
Open your soul, and let it free.
Looking beyond the awkward limbs,
You can see the graceful flow.
Movement and elegance,
Grow through the muscles,
Out the tips of your fingers and toes.
Close your eyes and dance.
Looking beyond the rustic tools,
See the painting as it can be.
Paint and paper can be so much more,
It is there, just reveal it as Michelangelo did;
Chip away at the marble until you find
The beauty of creativity in front of you.
What is beauty? Is it art, is it music, is it performance?
I can see beauty in most things if I look hard enough.
In the cliche things; music, a painting, a sunset, dance.
In the less admired things; people, books, speech, words.
In the things left behind; equations, mistakes, anger, a smile.
So again I ask, what is beauty?
You can see the flicker, the shimmer.
The music is there, hiding.
It jumps, excited and overjoyed.
You need but open your mouth,
Open your soul, and let it free.
Looking beyond the awkward limbs,
You can see the graceful flow.
Movement and elegance,
Grow through the muscles,
Out the tips of your fingers and toes.
Close your eyes and dance.
Looking beyond the rustic tools,
See the painting as it can be.
Paint and paper can be so much more,
It is there, just reveal it as Michelangelo did;
Chip away at the marble until you find
The beauty of creativity in front of you.
What is beauty? Is it art, is it music, is it performance?
I can see beauty in most things if I look hard enough.
In the cliche things; music, a painting, a sunset, dance.
In the less admired things; people, books, speech, words.
In the things left behind; equations, mistakes, anger, a smile.
So again I ask, what is beauty?
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Equality
In 2008 Clay M. Greene lost a loved one. He lost his lover, his partner in life, his significant other. What makes this story of lost truly heartbreaking, is that the County Sonoma stole this person away from him. They stole his house, most of his belongings, and put him in a retirement home. Because of Sonoma, Harold had to die without his partner Clay by his side.
It started when Harold took a spill down the stairs in front of the couple's house. He was badly hurt, and needed to be taken to the hospital. The two men were not stupid, they had previous to all this made arrangements for just this occasion, with living wills, power of attorney, and medical directives each listing each other. Despite all this, Clay was refused the right to see Harold, nor was he consulted in anything regarding his health.
In the ongoing months the County would go on to petition to a judge for access to Harold's bank account to pay for his medical bills, listing Clay off as simply a roommate. After gaining limited access to the account, they would go on to auctioning off the items in the house, and selling the house back to the land lord. Harold died without Clay, and Clay was left without a home, possessions, or any reminder of his partner save a photo album Harold made while being treated.
Clay is now suing the county, and is likely to receive a lot of money with all the glaringly illegal actions the people of Sonoma made. But is there any amount of money that can make up for losing someone you loved, and not being able to be there due to no fault of your own? It's terrible what these people did, they flat out stole from two elderly men. Reading this story, it got me to wondering... Would all of this, this act of barbarism against these two men, would it have happened if they were married?
Now I'm not about to start ringing the discrimination and hate crime bell. The motives of the hospital are not known, and could very easily be driven by money and not anti-gay sentiment. The fact that Somona voted in a heavy majority against Prop 8 does show that this is not an issue with the area. What I'm talking about is simple equality, the question of if this could possibly happen if, like a man and a woman, these two men who loved each other could be legally defined as married.
A major argument against gay marriage, though more a justification than an actual argument, that gay men and women can gain any rights a married couple can, and there for already have equal rights. The problem with that is that a straight couple can simply make one action, marriage, and gain these rights, where a gay couple must jump through hoops on several legal procedures. More work to gain the same thing is not equal, and without a singular definition, as we can see in this case, can easily be ignored.
These two men, Harold and Clay, did the deeds. They jumped through the hoops, they did everything they could to make sure that their partner could be there and be the one in charge if the unforeseen were to come to be. Yet here it stands, their wishes, their legal rights, all undone with a simple ignorance to their will. These papers meant to equal the rights of a married couple were ignored, they were forgotten. Clay Greene was forced into a retirement home, with the hopes he would never be heard from again.
But what if they were able to be wed, were wed? What if there was a strict definition labeling these two as spouses, as family? Could the abuse these two men endured possible have happened? I find it infuriating that this happened when it could have so easily been avoided with a simple piece of paper.
The fact that these two men were not married does not make them any less to each other. The fact that they were not married does not mean they weren't family. The fact that they were not married does not mean they did not love each other as much as one can love an other. The fact that they were not married meant that the people paid to keep them well were able to rob them of everything they had, including the right to die together.
It started when Harold took a spill down the stairs in front of the couple's house. He was badly hurt, and needed to be taken to the hospital. The two men were not stupid, they had previous to all this made arrangements for just this occasion, with living wills, power of attorney, and medical directives each listing each other. Despite all this, Clay was refused the right to see Harold, nor was he consulted in anything regarding his health.
In the ongoing months the County would go on to petition to a judge for access to Harold's bank account to pay for his medical bills, listing Clay off as simply a roommate. After gaining limited access to the account, they would go on to auctioning off the items in the house, and selling the house back to the land lord. Harold died without Clay, and Clay was left without a home, possessions, or any reminder of his partner save a photo album Harold made while being treated.
Clay is now suing the county, and is likely to receive a lot of money with all the glaringly illegal actions the people of Sonoma made. But is there any amount of money that can make up for losing someone you loved, and not being able to be there due to no fault of your own? It's terrible what these people did, they flat out stole from two elderly men. Reading this story, it got me to wondering... Would all of this, this act of barbarism against these two men, would it have happened if they were married?
Now I'm not about to start ringing the discrimination and hate crime bell. The motives of the hospital are not known, and could very easily be driven by money and not anti-gay sentiment. The fact that Somona voted in a heavy majority against Prop 8 does show that this is not an issue with the area. What I'm talking about is simple equality, the question of if this could possibly happen if, like a man and a woman, these two men who loved each other could be legally defined as married.
A major argument against gay marriage, though more a justification than an actual argument, that gay men and women can gain any rights a married couple can, and there for already have equal rights. The problem with that is that a straight couple can simply make one action, marriage, and gain these rights, where a gay couple must jump through hoops on several legal procedures. More work to gain the same thing is not equal, and without a singular definition, as we can see in this case, can easily be ignored.
These two men, Harold and Clay, did the deeds. They jumped through the hoops, they did everything they could to make sure that their partner could be there and be the one in charge if the unforeseen were to come to be. Yet here it stands, their wishes, their legal rights, all undone with a simple ignorance to their will. These papers meant to equal the rights of a married couple were ignored, they were forgotten. Clay Greene was forced into a retirement home, with the hopes he would never be heard from again.
But what if they were able to be wed, were wed? What if there was a strict definition labeling these two as spouses, as family? Could the abuse these two men endured possible have happened? I find it infuriating that this happened when it could have so easily been avoided with a simple piece of paper.
The fact that these two men were not married does not make them any less to each other. The fact that they were not married does not mean they weren't family. The fact that they were not married does not mean they did not love each other as much as one can love an other. The fact that they were not married meant that the people paid to keep them well were able to rob them of everything they had, including the right to die together.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Poet
The poet drew the line in the sand;
Connecting it to another.
She knew where it began
But not where it was to end.
And so she followed the line,
Searching for the other.
She went through heat,
Through snow and weather violent.
The end never seemed to come,
Her dimming hopes having enough.
With feet so tired, eyes so weary,
How could the gentle poet go on?
So she sank; in spirit, in body,
Her knees hitting sand so rough.
Head falling, hanging in defeat;
And in her despair, the poet missed the gleam.
Connecting it to another.
She knew where it began
But not where it was to end.
And so she followed the line,
Searching for the other.
She went through heat,
Through snow and weather violent.
The end never seemed to come,
Her dimming hopes having enough.
With feet so tired, eyes so weary,
How could the gentle poet go on?
So she sank; in spirit, in body,
Her knees hitting sand so rough.
Head falling, hanging in defeat;
And in her despair, the poet missed the gleam.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Bad Day
Sometimes things just don't work out right. You get up, everything seems fine, you go about your day without any worries, without any problems, and then suddenly it hits you. It comes from nowhere, that first chip in the armor, that first crack before the inevitable break. You may not even see it as bad at first, it's small, inconsequential. Then it starts to grow, a snowball rolling down hill it swells exponentially. More and more pile on, each action leading to a worse consequence, it's overwhelming, it all started out so simply...
I find myself today in a very off mood, which is only compounded by the fact that the day started so well. But then I got a text message from a co-worker, asking for me to cover a shift. Now this in itself wasn't a problem, a simple no would take care of the problem I figured. I had a lot of small chores to handle, a couple movies that needed to be returned today, and I was unwashed and generally feeling at ease and relaxed. Today was not a day for work.
But then the texts continued to come, my co-worker, with no ill intent I could detect continued to pry, asking me why I wouldn't take the shift. Each time I felt my mood dip, my general attitude shift from content to annoyed. He may have had some good points, but the discussion of the virtue of being lazy vs making money was not something I was looking for. I had given him my answer, and each stab at my reasoning just brought me lower and lower.
It soured me, I still feel the general malaise of sullen dullness. I want now to just curl up and forget the day, sit back and do something mindless. I want to vent myself of the weighty emotions, they do nothing for me. Those chores I was supposed to do now seem distant in my mind. I don't want to get a shower, don't want to do laundry, don't want to sit and write. I just want to be... sullen. Be dark, be moody. I want to just stare at the world with a heavy brow. I want to hide away in the darkness of my mind.
These feelings, these emotions, this tainted day. I know they'll all pass, sooner than I imagine I will be uplifted again, feeling lighter, a weight off my mind. Nothing dragging me to the floor anymore, I'll be me again. But for now I just stew in my own soured state of being. I lay around and gruff at things that would normally make me happy. I become a beast that has been awoken, slowly stomping about till I can once again slumber.
All in all, I'm just having a bad day.
I find myself today in a very off mood, which is only compounded by the fact that the day started so well. But then I got a text message from a co-worker, asking for me to cover a shift. Now this in itself wasn't a problem, a simple no would take care of the problem I figured. I had a lot of small chores to handle, a couple movies that needed to be returned today, and I was unwashed and generally feeling at ease and relaxed. Today was not a day for work.
But then the texts continued to come, my co-worker, with no ill intent I could detect continued to pry, asking me why I wouldn't take the shift. Each time I felt my mood dip, my general attitude shift from content to annoyed. He may have had some good points, but the discussion of the virtue of being lazy vs making money was not something I was looking for. I had given him my answer, and each stab at my reasoning just brought me lower and lower.
It soured me, I still feel the general malaise of sullen dullness. I want now to just curl up and forget the day, sit back and do something mindless. I want to vent myself of the weighty emotions, they do nothing for me. Those chores I was supposed to do now seem distant in my mind. I don't want to get a shower, don't want to do laundry, don't want to sit and write. I just want to be... sullen. Be dark, be moody. I want to just stare at the world with a heavy brow. I want to hide away in the darkness of my mind.
These feelings, these emotions, this tainted day. I know they'll all pass, sooner than I imagine I will be uplifted again, feeling lighter, a weight off my mind. Nothing dragging me to the floor anymore, I'll be me again. But for now I just stew in my own soured state of being. I lay around and gruff at things that would normally make me happy. I become a beast that has been awoken, slowly stomping about till I can once again slumber.
All in all, I'm just having a bad day.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Sex: A Reply, A Metaphor and A Ramble
So, Will... It's come time for a reply.
Sex.... What is it? Is it daunting? Is it... beautiful? Is it necessary?
A question I often ask myself, just to see where I am in life, is "Is the relationship making the sex or is the sex making the relationship?"
While it doesn't always need to be taken strictly in those terms (A more open translation being "Is the cake making the icing or is the icing making the cake?"), it helps me realize what is going on around. What is
And for me... Sex is just that. Icing. I don't NEED it. In fact, without cake, I get sick of icing really fast. But on the flip side.... Cake can get a bit boring without icing from time to time, right?
Well maybe you just haven't gotten the kind of cake you need.
Ok, Manda... I get it. You need a balance, right?
Wrong.
Some people can sit down and eat a whole damn tub of icing, fuck the cake. Who needs cake when you've got sugary, amazing icing in front of you?
Some people can sit and eat a cake as is. No extra toppings. They don't need the outside sugar, just what's inside. Who needs icing when you've got moist, delicious cake?
.....And some people get stomach aches from all the sugar. And some peoples' mouths get dry after too much cake.
What is the point of all this obvious, semi-metaphorical rambling, Will?
It's this: Everyone's taste is different. No one is wrong. No one is right. Not when it comes to this basic act. If you leave out all the moral and ethical problems introduced later by humans and their ever-loving need to make things complicated, that's what you get. Variety. The spice of life. The difference between each and every one of us. My brain patterns, just as unique as fingerprints and retinal scans, revealing my thoughts being different from her, her, him and you.
So maybe not everyone wants the icing and maybe not everyone's a fan of cake.
Who cares? You have your body. I have mine. They have theirs.
So, in the end, does it matter; their view?
It doesn't to me. But then... I'm still mixing my batter.
Sex.... What is it? Is it daunting? Is it... beautiful? Is it necessary?
A question I often ask myself, just to see where I am in life, is "Is the relationship making the sex or is the sex making the relationship?"
While it doesn't always need to be taken strictly in those terms (A more open translation being "Is the cake making the icing or is the icing making the cake?"), it helps me realize what is going on around. What is
And for me... Sex is just that. Icing. I don't NEED it. In fact, without cake, I get sick of icing really fast. But on the flip side.... Cake can get a bit boring without icing from time to time, right?
Well maybe you just haven't gotten the kind of cake you need.
Ok, Manda... I get it. You need a balance, right?
Wrong.
Some people can sit down and eat a whole damn tub of icing, fuck the cake. Who needs cake when you've got sugary, amazing icing in front of you?
Some people can sit and eat a cake as is. No extra toppings. They don't need the outside sugar, just what's inside. Who needs icing when you've got moist, delicious cake?
.....And some people get stomach aches from all the sugar. And some peoples' mouths get dry after too much cake.
What is the point of all this obvious, semi-metaphorical rambling, Will?
It's this: Everyone's taste is different. No one is wrong. No one is right. Not when it comes to this basic act. If you leave out all the moral and ethical problems introduced later by humans and their ever-loving need to make things complicated, that's what you get. Variety. The spice of life. The difference between each and every one of us. My brain patterns, just as unique as fingerprints and retinal scans, revealing my thoughts being different from her, her, him and you.
So maybe not everyone wants the icing and maybe not everyone's a fan of cake.
Who cares? You have your body. I have mine. They have theirs.
So, in the end, does it matter; their view?
It doesn't to me. But then... I'm still mixing my batter.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Born to Do
Today I'm going to talk about something very close to my heart. Something very close to all of our hearts, really. Today I'm going to talk about sex. Whether you like it or not, we're all here because of it. Your mom, your dad, they enjoyed a night of carnal bliss, and now you're here. Me, I have a very casual outlook on sex. It's a natural instinct in all men and women to mate, it also feels very good, and if done responsibly, can be done with no unwanted outcomes. So I wonder, in the year 2010, why we're still so hung up about it...
It's not that hard of a question, really. The reason why America is so worried about sex is our founders, the Puritans. A bunch of happy go lucky bunch that felt dancing was too loose and garish a practice. These were the first off the boat of settlers for America, and for it's entire history their influence has plagued us.
It's not a secret that American media displays a harsher outlook of sex over violence. Movies with a single sex scene, or too much lewd reference to sex at all run the risk of getting an R rating, while Sam Killall mows through an entire legion of men with automatic weaponry, and gets a PG-13 as long as he doesn't drop an F-Bomb. In our culture, pretend violence is more widely accepted than pretend eroticism. Doesn't that seem a bit off?
Sex is a natural instinct, the natural instinct. It's the propagation of our species, without it we do not exist, and yet people still get in an uproar when a pop icon shows her breasts on camera. We have had several sexual revolutions in our history whether for a woman's right to sexuality, or just in the name of free love, and yet the puritanical influence of a people who came to this land over four hundred years ago still hold sway over us.
We need to get over it. We need more than just the sexually adventurous to have a healthy attitude about sex. Our bodies are beautiful, and enjoying our bodies is one of the most beautiful acts that can be preformed. Exploration of another, the ultimate act of sharing, the drive and need to be with someone else. It is the strongest display of affection, it is the strongest display of what being human is.
And it's also really fun.
It's not that hard of a question, really. The reason why America is so worried about sex is our founders, the Puritans. A bunch of happy go lucky bunch that felt dancing was too loose and garish a practice. These were the first off the boat of settlers for America, and for it's entire history their influence has plagued us.
It's not a secret that American media displays a harsher outlook of sex over violence. Movies with a single sex scene, or too much lewd reference to sex at all run the risk of getting an R rating, while Sam Killall mows through an entire legion of men with automatic weaponry, and gets a PG-13 as long as he doesn't drop an F-Bomb. In our culture, pretend violence is more widely accepted than pretend eroticism. Doesn't that seem a bit off?
Sex is a natural instinct, the natural instinct. It's the propagation of our species, without it we do not exist, and yet people still get in an uproar when a pop icon shows her breasts on camera. We have had several sexual revolutions in our history whether for a woman's right to sexuality, or just in the name of free love, and yet the puritanical influence of a people who came to this land over four hundred years ago still hold sway over us.
We need to get over it. We need more than just the sexually adventurous to have a healthy attitude about sex. Our bodies are beautiful, and enjoying our bodies is one of the most beautiful acts that can be preformed. Exploration of another, the ultimate act of sharing, the drive and need to be with someone else. It is the strongest display of affection, it is the strongest display of what being human is.
And it's also really fun.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Introspectiveness Sucks
So... today I had a conversation with my mother. We talked about relationships, love and what people need, in general, to be happy with another person.
And it got me thinking or, more specifically, worrying.
I wonder if I'm too picky in what I look for in a person.
I want to laugh, to cry, to argue, to be agreed with, to be given space, to be held, to drive them up a wall, to be loved, to feel hands in my hair, to feel fingers in mine.
I want to be awkwardly comfortable. I want to them to be maturely childish. Cynically hopeful.
I want an impossible balance.
I used to think that love was enough. I've learned differently.
I don't know if what I want is so.... hard to find. I don't know if my standards are too high.
I'm worried they are... but I'm also afraid of compromising and settling for something less than actual happiness.
And then I worry... What if I find them or found them.. and I just am not/was not what they wanted.
What if my balance doesn't mesh with theirs?
I know it fits my personality, but I really don't want to be the crazy lady with all the cats. I don't want to be "Aunt Amanda" forever... I want to be "Mom" someday.
I know humans, by nature, fear loneliness. We are social creatures. I know my thoughts are normal... I also know that sometimes people like me end up just like I am afraid to. Alone.
The poet knelt in the sand,
Her eyes on the grains as they slipped away.
And she knew, feeling the softness contrast
The coarseness she knew could be,
That her fears were validated
By the simplicity of regret.
Have a good weekend, friends.
-Manda
And it got me thinking or, more specifically, worrying.
I wonder if I'm too picky in what I look for in a person.
I want to laugh, to cry, to argue, to be agreed with, to be given space, to be held, to drive them up a wall, to be loved, to feel hands in my hair, to feel fingers in mine.
I want to be awkwardly comfortable. I want to them to be maturely childish. Cynically hopeful.
I want an impossible balance.
I used to think that love was enough. I've learned differently.
I don't know if what I want is so.... hard to find. I don't know if my standards are too high.
I'm worried they are... but I'm also afraid of compromising and settling for something less than actual happiness.
And then I worry... What if I find them or found them.. and I just am not/was not what they wanted.
What if my balance doesn't mesh with theirs?
I know it fits my personality, but I really don't want to be the crazy lady with all the cats. I don't want to be "Aunt Amanda" forever... I want to be "Mom" someday.
I know humans, by nature, fear loneliness. We are social creatures. I know my thoughts are normal... I also know that sometimes people like me end up just like I am afraid to. Alone.
The poet knelt in the sand,
Her eyes on the grains as they slipped away.
And she knew, feeling the softness contrast
The coarseness she knew could be,
That her fears were validated
By the simplicity of regret.
Have a good weekend, friends.
-Manda
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Out with the Old
16. When we're young we want to change the world. When we're old we want to change the young. -Anonymous
Generations come and generations go, but one thing that has always remained constant is the conflict. In the 20s Jazz was corrupting children, the 50s brought the evils of rock and roll, the 70s sexual liberation plagued the young, the 90s rap was turning young men and women into criminals, and now today video games are training kids to murder. With every passage of time, the old look back on the young, and wish it were like the days of old.
With the passage of time our culture grows, it changes and alters itself. It evolves, slowly, but moving forward. Every now and again a hiccup comes along, and we take a step back, but eventually we come to move forward once more. With every passing of the torch from one generation to the next, we lose some of our hatred, we lose some of our ignorance and prejudice. As the young grow old, we as a society become more and more open minded. But only just a little more.
Traditionally our leaders and politicians, those who govern us are of the previous generation. They're men and women in their mid to late years, they remember back to their own childhood, they believe truly that it was the right way to live. They look upon the young, so radical, so different, they fear them. It's not that hard to understand, it is human nature to fear change, to fear the unknown. They see in the young such untempered and untested ideals, they see what the young stand for, but they also see the lack of aged experience. They hold back what they believe is too wild and broad to be stable.
The young look at the old, and shake their head. How could someone be so closed minded, how could they be so wrong about how the world works. Why can't they see that we all have the answers? It would all be so easy, making the world right. With blind optimism, and no knowledge of the complexities of how to make any of our wonderful new ways work. We see the old as tired, we see the old as clinging to the obsolete. We're just as ignorant as them in our inability to understand.
The old against the new, the traditionalist against the modernist, the rigid masters against the radical free thinkers. It's a constant loop, a routine, a dance of the world. As the old slowly pass, as the young slowly age the reigns are given up. The young are now the old, now experienced, their ideals now secured by wisdom. The old now have the ability to make their desired world happen, and watch as the young cry out for new and wild ways.
It's going to happen again and again. It's simply the progression of civilization. It's bitter sweet, really, by the time we young minds gain the ability to control the world, our ways are going to be inefficient to the eyes of the new generation. But we can know, that each time the cycle repeats, the world is becoming slowly better. Always forward, always on a forward path.
I wonder what will be evil to me in thirty years...
Generations come and generations go, but one thing that has always remained constant is the conflict. In the 20s Jazz was corrupting children, the 50s brought the evils of rock and roll, the 70s sexual liberation plagued the young, the 90s rap was turning young men and women into criminals, and now today video games are training kids to murder. With every passage of time, the old look back on the young, and wish it were like the days of old.
With the passage of time our culture grows, it changes and alters itself. It evolves, slowly, but moving forward. Every now and again a hiccup comes along, and we take a step back, but eventually we come to move forward once more. With every passing of the torch from one generation to the next, we lose some of our hatred, we lose some of our ignorance and prejudice. As the young grow old, we as a society become more and more open minded. But only just a little more.
Traditionally our leaders and politicians, those who govern us are of the previous generation. They're men and women in their mid to late years, they remember back to their own childhood, they believe truly that it was the right way to live. They look upon the young, so radical, so different, they fear them. It's not that hard to understand, it is human nature to fear change, to fear the unknown. They see in the young such untempered and untested ideals, they see what the young stand for, but they also see the lack of aged experience. They hold back what they believe is too wild and broad to be stable.
The young look at the old, and shake their head. How could someone be so closed minded, how could they be so wrong about how the world works. Why can't they see that we all have the answers? It would all be so easy, making the world right. With blind optimism, and no knowledge of the complexities of how to make any of our wonderful new ways work. We see the old as tired, we see the old as clinging to the obsolete. We're just as ignorant as them in our inability to understand.
The old against the new, the traditionalist against the modernist, the rigid masters against the radical free thinkers. It's a constant loop, a routine, a dance of the world. As the old slowly pass, as the young slowly age the reigns are given up. The young are now the old, now experienced, their ideals now secured by wisdom. The old now have the ability to make their desired world happen, and watch as the young cry out for new and wild ways.
It's going to happen again and again. It's simply the progression of civilization. It's bitter sweet, really, by the time we young minds gain the ability to control the world, our ways are going to be inefficient to the eyes of the new generation. But we can know, that each time the cycle repeats, the world is becoming slowly better. Always forward, always on a forward path.
I wonder what will be evil to me in thirty years...
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