Monday, January 8

Hit Me

I keep waiting for my moment of enlightenment when the proverbial 2x4 makes a deafening smack against my skull, testing the elasticity of my skin, leaving a pretty healthy lump, and jolting me out of a floundering existence. I don't want to sound ungrateful because, for the most part, I enjoy my life. But this bolt of energy burning a whole inside needs direction. To those I adore... "You are not the ones who make me question my allotted breath. But I had hoped that this life would facilitate, at least a twinge of, large-scale importance." While I await my golden mission, my anxious heart taps an unpredictable beat.

There must still be opportunities for common folk to assist in our evolution. Look at all the great advancements in history, all the wonderful people who have left a mark on humanity: Einstein, da Vinci, the Wright brothers, and Dali to name a few obvious examples. The list goes on, more recent though a bit frightening: President Bush, Hitler, Hussein, and Bundy. Granted, they aren't as glamorous as the first list yet they too shape modern man's perspective. Things would be different had they not lived. (To clarify, the latter influences are not what I envision for myself.)

By now the more realistic reader is murmuring to themselves, "Changing the world doesn't have to happen in such a grand fashion." Those choosing this melancholy approach are correct. Changes don't have to take on the form of world domination. We affect each others lives everyday, often having more power than we take responsibility for. Our moods act as contagious viruses. My mail carrier, for example, is wonderful. She wears a smile everyday, and the packages that wont fit in my box are delivered directly to my door. I love that.

I like to submerge myself into a chosen activity. And I have a hard time keeping tasks manageable in size. Even though I haven't earned the local humanitarian award, somehow I smell rotting potential. I know you have to start small. I'll still recycle, buy low wattage bulbs, wash my dishes by hand, and leave the car parked when I can. But please, let me impact the world like a meteor rather than a loose canon--meandering the neighborhoods in red tights and a cape.

"Doesn't everyone want to make a grandiose contribution," You ask? I don't know. Maybe. Those that might, may not be in a position to allow full submersion into the delegated task. I, on the other hand, have been collecting diving gear for years. I just hope that when I do get to use it, it's not to do my laundry.

Saturday, January 6

Here Goes Nothing

Well, it certainly has been a long time since devoting energy to this medium. Excuses ran rampant at the time of procrastination but vacate my memory now. Momentum stalls with the lack of comments on the blog. Why publish material for myself when I can read my own ramble on the pages of a tattered-spiral notebook? Why waste the electricity it takes to operate my laptop? Good questions. But today I'll utilize technology to force words upon abandoned creativity.

They say that practice provokes progress; if you don't practice your craft you'll never get any better. I believe that--wholeheartedly. But what if you feel that your craft only exists within your mind, and no amount of practice will ever make you any better? Your mind convinces you that you suck and the absence of comments on your blog confirms this logic. Anyone who may have accidently stumbled upon your blog has promptly and involuntarily fallen asleep shortly after arriving there. I'd fall alseep too. The challenge of finishing an article before I tire of it is a task I have yet to master.

During the months of non-writing the tireless nagging has kept me company. I should be writing. I didn't write today. I don't have enough time to write. My mind has become very skilled at demolishing optimism and denying any success of putting words on paper. So practice does make a difference; I'm really good at shooting myself in the foot with an unloaded gun. Lets see you do that Annie Oakley.

The writing bug is here. I cannot ignore the impulse. Truth lies within and stories need to be told. Maybe I don't have to know everthing today or at least during this very minute. And if I don't have to know everything then I can express myself as it occurs trying to avoid boredom and eventual paralization of my organs.

This piece is an offering to the practiced negetivity of "I can't." Well... I did, for now.