So hmmm...
I wrote a three-page post earlier that started with exactly that. I hit escape by mistake and it all went away. The "So hmmm..." is all of it that I can actually remember, because of, well, itself.
I've been humming to myself like that for about the past week. I don't mean that I'm actually humming, everyone with ears has learned by now that I whistle in lieu of such. The best way I can think to describe it is mind-static. It's like an over-thoughtful version of ADD, like my consciousness has become a tornado frolicking around various parts of my brain. I move about picking up pieces of ideas, turning them over, and dropping them at random. It's tough to concentrate because there's so much going on at once.
Clearly I left whatever it was that I had to post somewhere in the wake.
That's okay, the blender of my soul has a new concoction to pour, even though it will probably taste less like a daquiri and more like an elephant in a paint mixer.
I'm going to jump out of a plane this Christmas. I'm certain it will be quite the experience. I accept the risk, of course. I discovered recently what that really feels like, and it's surprisingly familiar. I've always accepted risks before, like not doing my homework because the teacher might not collect it, or riding the line 4 above the speed limit because I hope the radar gun will be either accurate or inaccurate in my favor. We accept risks, we gamble, because the perceived benefits outweigh the perceived cost of failure.
To digress, I wrote an essay once awhile ago on how the truly selfless people in the world can only be observed if they have no knowledge of an afterlife. The knowledge that a heaven awaits the pious and charitable child steals away our ability to judge the motivation of a kind person. A truly altruistic individual will display such generosity with the belief that there will be no external reward of any sort. I believe that no person can intuitively commit self-sacrifice. In the end, the mind seeks to preserve itself and only itself. Our ability to put ourselves in harms way to save another is either an artifact of our animal instincts, or an artifact of the soul, depending on your views. Either way, it is a relic we are lucky to possess.
Anyway, I imagine you must see me as one apathetic bastard sometimes, due to the occasional stoicism that is most often observed when something bad has happened to me. I won't cry when my father dies because I accepted his death when I was 12. As an ironic side note, that's how old he was when his father died. I didn't realize it would actually be easier to accept my own death.
I jump out of the plane and my parachute opens or it doesn't. There really isn't much difference. Jackie and Jill will still watch Sailor Moon and go to Rocky's, and they'll still have RDD. Brad will still do something amazing somewhere down the road. Lauren will still feel the same way about life that she has always (lately) felt. Mike will still be anemic but talented, despite what he thinks. Greg will still know a little about everything and everything about a little, his shadow will just be a shade lighter. Philip will still have a heart of gold. Drew will still take over the world. Denny will still be the coolest nerd I know, and TJ will still be a stud. My parents will be sad, just like they are now, they'll just have one fewer financial burden with which to concern themselves. I already know I wasn't going to think of any great ideas or be a great leader or even a great husband or father, in the literal sense of the word. Everything positive that I try to do for others turns to vapor and wafts happily away, either because my motivations are somehow tainted or because chance is somehow tainted. I want a good and successful life, but I'm not talking about suicide, I'm talking about risk. I will never kill myself, and I will never take a risk that will lead to my own death. [EDIT] That excludes, of course, the scenarios when some good can come of my death. I have both instincts and a soul thank you [/EDIT]. When I die, I will either see it coming in time to accept it, or I won't and my last thoughts will be "What the...?" or "Shazbot!" Until then, I will try.
Wow. More like a baby in a centrifuge. Je vais déjeuner. Au revoir!
I wrote a three-page post earlier that started with exactly that. I hit escape by mistake and it all went away. The "So hmmm..." is all of it that I can actually remember, because of, well, itself.
I've been humming to myself like that for about the past week. I don't mean that I'm actually humming, everyone with ears has learned by now that I whistle in lieu of such. The best way I can think to describe it is mind-static. It's like an over-thoughtful version of ADD, like my consciousness has become a tornado frolicking around various parts of my brain. I move about picking up pieces of ideas, turning them over, and dropping them at random. It's tough to concentrate because there's so much going on at once.
Clearly I left whatever it was that I had to post somewhere in the wake.
That's okay, the blender of my soul has a new concoction to pour, even though it will probably taste less like a daquiri and more like an elephant in a paint mixer.
I'm going to jump out of a plane this Christmas. I'm certain it will be quite the experience. I accept the risk, of course. I discovered recently what that really feels like, and it's surprisingly familiar. I've always accepted risks before, like not doing my homework because the teacher might not collect it, or riding the line 4 above the speed limit because I hope the radar gun will be either accurate or inaccurate in my favor. We accept risks, we gamble, because the perceived benefits outweigh the perceived cost of failure.
To digress, I wrote an essay once awhile ago on how the truly selfless people in the world can only be observed if they have no knowledge of an afterlife. The knowledge that a heaven awaits the pious and charitable child steals away our ability to judge the motivation of a kind person. A truly altruistic individual will display such generosity with the belief that there will be no external reward of any sort. I believe that no person can intuitively commit self-sacrifice. In the end, the mind seeks to preserve itself and only itself. Our ability to put ourselves in harms way to save another is either an artifact of our animal instincts, or an artifact of the soul, depending on your views. Either way, it is a relic we are lucky to possess.
Anyway, I imagine you must see me as one apathetic bastard sometimes, due to the occasional stoicism that is most often observed when something bad has happened to me. I won't cry when my father dies because I accepted his death when I was 12. As an ironic side note, that's how old he was when his father died. I didn't realize it would actually be easier to accept my own death.
I jump out of the plane and my parachute opens or it doesn't. There really isn't much difference. Jackie and Jill will still watch Sailor Moon and go to Rocky's, and they'll still have RDD. Brad will still do something amazing somewhere down the road. Lauren will still feel the same way about life that she has always (lately) felt. Mike will still be anemic but talented, despite what he thinks. Greg will still know a little about everything and everything about a little, his shadow will just be a shade lighter. Philip will still have a heart of gold. Drew will still take over the world. Denny will still be the coolest nerd I know, and TJ will still be a stud. My parents will be sad, just like they are now, they'll just have one fewer financial burden with which to concern themselves. I already know I wasn't going to think of any great ideas or be a great leader or even a great husband or father, in the literal sense of the word. Everything positive that I try to do for others turns to vapor and wafts happily away, either because my motivations are somehow tainted or because chance is somehow tainted. I want a good and successful life, but I'm not talking about suicide, I'm talking about risk. I will never kill myself, and I will never take a risk that will lead to my own death. [EDIT] That excludes, of course, the scenarios when some good can come of my death. I have both instincts and a soul thank you [/EDIT]. When I die, I will either see it coming in time to accept it, or I won't and my last thoughts will be "What the...?" or "Shazbot!" Until then, I will try.
Wow. More like a baby in a centrifuge. Je vais déjeuner. Au revoir!
posted by Casey at
12:21
