Pipe down occum.

I’ve had a twitch, or muscle spasm of sorts, twitching and spasm-ing in my eyelid for 16 days and counting. Just today it became malignant and spread, infectiously, to a small portion of my right external oblique (an abdominal muscle off to the side of your “abs” for those who are not so physiologically inclined). The one in my eye pounds rhythmically and powerfully, probably rendering redundant the service of my heart. The one in my stomach ripples and rolls sporadically in a uniquely nauseating fashion. Signs of fatigue. Warning signs. Physical manifestations of the current state of mind: hyper-tired.

The clouds have just rolled in. “Figures. I just got the damn solar panels installed and it’s dark as shit out here.”
Me: It’s Friday, Sean. Go home.
I want it to rain. I want it to rain big, heavy, freezing cold, Colorado rain drops… smacking the pavement in distinct and individual smacks. Go home, open the window, turn on the ceiling fan, and fall asleep breathing that delicious smell of rain on pavement.

When a lovely mental image gets pooped on, the slang phrase for that is, “bursting your bubble.” I don’t think “bursting” is the appropriate adjective for the feeling that it’s supposed to describe. Yesterday was John’s birthday. We’re celebrating tonight. Last year John didn’t tell us when his birthday was until it was two weeks past. So this year we’re taking him out to have a good time in spite of his protests. He doesn’t believe in the celebration of being one year closer to dead. We let him be morbid because he’s so cute. Dina says it’s not really about him. It’s about him letting us celebrate him. He seemed to buy that, but maybe he was only pretending so Dr. Dina would quit psycho-analyzing him. It's not that I don't want to go out with John and his cute boyfriend and Dina and the gang. I do, I really do. We always have lots of laughs, and I am looking forward to it. But that sleepy-time image is gonna have to pay the price. I’ll be going home, not to slip into blissful slumber, but to "get cute" and see if I can rally for another night out. There’s no bubble-bursting going on here. It’s more like that sound that Mrs. Pac-Man makes when she dies. You know the one? Wee-oo-wee-oo-wee-oo-we-ooooh. Alas.

Jim: Buck up. Sleep when you’re dead.
Me: That may not be too far off.

Some months back I was having dinner with my parents and your name came up. Mom said, “Where is she? I miss her. Get her back.” I don’t know. I miss her too. I don’t know how. Then, the other day, the phone rang and you were there; here; back. Is it possible that you’ve forgiven me for being such a perfect ass?

“Our fears should guide us, I believe – they’re like great milestones in our lives if we face them.”

Brilliant. What have I missed? Knowing someone for a brief time is like a photograph. All you get is a fraction of the landscape taken in an instant. I’m anxious to talk with you again. To pick your brain and see how you’ve grown and changed. Then I will have another little picture. Over time, if we’re careful not to give up on each other, we will be able to collect enough pictures to make a story come alive.

I remember when we first became friends. We wrote back and forth on the email as our primary means of communication. That’s how we got to know each other. It seems we’ve come full circle.

I’m in a big fat funk right now. I have got Spring Fever SO BAD. Boots, Camelback, dog, mountain. That’s all I want. Is that so wrong? The Buddhists believe that enlightenment cannot be achieved unless you can be fully present here; now. Right, so, I’m not a Buddhist… cuz I wanna be anywhere but here; now. All I wanna do is walk away from my car, and into the trees and inhale that most amazing of smells… sunshine on pine trees. But, no. Instead I have to burn through a whole box of paper making copies for plans to build a big freakin highway. I’m going to hell. Mother Earth is gonna to roast me for this.

UPDATE: So I called the "him" from previous story [hows that for not hiding?] and cleared this one up. Apparently I wasn't supposed to read anything into the songs that appeared on said cd. whew!

They keep dragging me out to bars and introducing me to their friends because they are my friends and they know that its time. They know, and I finally know and its time. Then he writes to me to say that he’s sending me music (because we share those sorts of things). And the songs are all about love. The forever kind, and the unrequited kind, and the “can’t you see what I’m trying to tell you?” kind. And, no, I didn’t see, but I do now, and why does this have to be the time for that? And on top of it all, she called the other day, just to say hi and that she misses me and the sound of her voice coming back to me, finally, after an impossibly long time, almost made me cry and I’m reminded of who I once was and how I once would have handled all of this. (I would have hidden. I would have pretended not to notice that he sent me Etta James singing “at last my love has come along”. I would have lied when we were out the other night and said that I “honestly didn’t find any one in the room attractive.”) But I did notice… and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’ve wanted (periodically) for years to fall into him, curled up and wrapped up in him and never… ever… leave. But… the other night... at the bar... she was really cute… and… what the FUCK do I do about that!?!

In other news… a friend will come to visit from Germany tomorrow, and the eldest Sidis sibling will return from her little jaunt to Hawaii and the kitchen isn’t nearly as far along as planned. But it looks good! Hehe. So there I stood in the kitchen last night, Carharts, dew-rag, tank-top, Heineken in hand and his cd in my ears, singing “it feels like home to me” and I had myself a good hysterical fit of laughter. The cabinets are still skeletons; empty frames of their future selves; [hand on hip, swig of Heine] hahahahaaaaa, “Well, here’s the story of my life!” A really brilliant, grandiose scheme, implemented only to the point of no return and then stalled by a fairly good excuse.

Is this enough? Is there more? Oh, yes. There’s more. Sitting in the seat of Uber-Secretary, still not sure if I even want this job, I’ve just been handed the burden of knowledge. I am one of two people who knows how to use the new automated filing system that, if successful, will be installed in all of our offices across the state. Then, (after getting into a pissing match with the Vice President and CFO last week) I was just informed this morning that [I win] we will, in fact, be installing another piece of software, that I alone will know how to run. (Why did I want that?) And, by the way, there had better be a considerable raise in my very near future, or I may have to drop the gloves and go another round with the CFO.

So… this is what happens when you wake up and decide to stop ignoring your life. I have been severely psychologically abused. [self-inflicted] Repressed and neglected for too many years to count. Purely out of curiosity, I opened the peep-hole to the door in my wall that has never been opened and I couldn’t contain or push back the life that came rushing in like a leak in a damn that can no longer contain the water. The flood gate is open and I’m gasping for air and floundering about, battling rip-tide, undertow and wave after endless wave… hehehe… but my thirst is quenched.

Mr. Trinity,

“The greatest obstacle to international order is that monstrously exaggerated spirit of nationalism which also goes by the fair-sounding but misused name of patriotism.”
~ Albert Einstein

Without the dualistic and conflict inspiring notion of “I’m better than you,” where would our world be? I’m just asking.

Regards,
Sidis.

Where.In.The.Fuck.Are.My.Archives?!?!?!

Psychological apocalypse. Maybe I should explain that one a little more. It’s actually kind of a democratic process. (How can an individual psyche be subject to a democratic process?) [schizophrenic multiple personality disorder?] (Hmmm… we’ll examine that later.) So, here is a typical excerpt of a couple of my “personalities” dukeing it out over whether or not oust an idea. X and O will noodle and debate until it is determined whether or not there is opportunity for further thought on this subject. If the potential for further thought or debate is exhausted, it’ll get chucked. If there are still good questions left unanswered, it stays.

O: Aliens do exist, you know. I’m not saying this in a paranoid, government conspiracy revealed, kind of a way; nor in a wake and bake, Trek-e-freak, “They’re really out there, man!” way either. I’m just looking at the odds. Our sun is a star. It has nine planets which it holds in orbit. Of those nine planets, one (arguably two) can support life. There are billions of other stars in our galaxy and billions of galaxies in the universe. What are the odds that of the billions of billions of other stars out there, not one has a planet orbiting it that can support life?
Okay, so jumping way ahead and making, like, 60 different assumptions, lets pretend that some of that life periodically checks out our little planet. How would they be able to tell that there is intelligent life here?
X: We build things.
O: So do beavers. Do we consider them “intelligent”?
X: We use tools.
O: So do monkeys in South America.
X: We have social organization.
O: So do bees and ants.
X: We communicate.
O: Which differentiates us from all other animals in what way?
X: We have weapons of mass destruction.
O: Right. We’re looking for signs of intelligence here. Heh heh. Most animals fight. Animals kill for three reasons: hunger, fear (i.e. self-defense or fear of losing territory), and insanity. I don’t think we’re any different. In fact I’m not sure you can really make a solid argument that differentiates us from the rest of the animal kingdom.
X: Love. We have love.
O: For example?
X: We love our children.
O: Instinct. Lots of animals care for their children and are even willing to die for them. Prove to me that there’s a difference between that and human love.
X: What about faith? We have religion.
O: Ah, Yes. Religion. From a pantheistic perspective, I would assert that religion has done a fantastic job of destroying faith… and it is precisely because animals have no religion, that they are closer to God than we.
X: Explain.
O: Religion (or Christianity at least), as we know it today, is largely concerned with morals. Animals don’t get hung up on morals.
X: What’s wrong with morality?
O: Well, nothing; except that morality has nothing to do with God.
X: What!?!
O: According to the Bible, what was the event that signaled humanities fall from grace?
X: Eve ate the apple.
O: Right, and the Bible says that God knew she had eaten the apple when he saw that Adam and Eve had clothed themselves. Did you ever wonder why they did that?
X: I don’t have to wonder. The Bible says they realized they were naked and felt shame, so they clothed themselves.
O: Ah! So, they ate from the Tree of Knowledge and felt shame for their nakedness. What “knowledge” do you suppose they gained that would make them feel shame?
X: ??
O: What is shame?
X: Embarrassment, humility… feeling that you have done wrong…
O: Yes. All of those things. And what unique circumstance must exist in order for anyone to feel embarrassed or humiliated?
X: ??
O: Are you embarrassed to be naked when you’re alone?
X: No.
O: And if you were always completely alone what “wrong” could you do?
X: ??
O: So, in order for one to feel shame, another must be involved.
X: Yyyess.
O: Good answer. So the “knowledge” that Adam and Eve gained by eating the apple was a knowledge of themselves as individuals. And, in differentiating self from other, they felt shame at their own nakedness in front of another.
X: So?
O: Sssoooo… covering themselves was the first self-conscious act of humanity. Perhaps, prior to that, we, as a species, did not understand that there was a difference between our selves and the whole of creation. And so, after that first realization, and still to this day, it is our notion of separateness that is our sin. And it is separateness that necessitates morality. Sane individuals do not intentionally wrong themselves. If we considered that we are in fact one with everything, morality would be moot. Ergo, “religion” (specifically Christianity), in focusing on the moot, has detracted attention away from truly seeking God (oneness). Thus my previous assertion that religion has wrecked faith.
X: Define your terms.
O: God is the sum of all things. Faith is belief in something (In this case, God).
X: Then it’s not our faith that religion has wrecked, it’s our God.
O: Well said.
X: Wait, back up. God is the sum of all things.
O: Yes.
X: God is this desk?
O: No. God is that which makes the desk a desk.
X: Particle board?
O: no. Lets say you have a bridge made of stones. What is it that makes the bridge?
X: er… stones?
O: [bonk] Thank you. I’ll rephrase. What makes the bridge a bridge and not a pile of rocks?
X: It’s shape?
O: Bingo. There are laws of physics which a bridge must adhere to in order to be a bridge. If it fails to adhere to any one of those laws, the law of gravity will make it a pile of rocks and not a bridge. All of those laws and forces that make a bridge a bridge are the essence of the thing. The sum of the essences of all things is God.
X: What does this have to do with aliens?
O: … I forget, focus.
X: So what are the laws and forces that make human, human?
O: A fine question. Damn fine. I guess we’ll have to keep this one. Oh, aliens… the point was that we’re animals. There isn’t much that differentiates us from the rest of the animal kingdom, and if we don’t think that animals are intelligent, we had better scrutinize ourselves a little closer.
X: I thought the argument was there isn’t anything that differentiates us from anything at all?
O: Too right.
X: We have math.
O: Oooohh…. Uh….. … Yeah, this one definitely stays.