Real Life Impacts on On-Line Life

The title pretty much says it. Done. Signing off now....haha. I locked this blog down for so long and almost deleted it. Then I came back to it. I don't know why. I wonder about all the other bloggers I used to blog with so much in the past. I check in now and then, here and there, on other people's blogs. I'm so busy with off-line life lately though. I'm not keeping up with twitter...I barely check personal emails...I've seen a lot of bloggers' activity decline, I've seen a lot of blogs get deleted. If graphed bloggin activity, I guess it'd be pretty spikey. I guess my life is pretty spikey too. I get into routines and I break them.



You'll notice I've titled this post 'Photos' but there are no photos.

I was just now thinking of the constant activity of my brain as this: Someone is constantly passing me photos and asking me to look at them. My brain is constantly handing me images and asking me to look at them. "Look at them. Watch the story of each unfold. Let it take over your entire attention. Dwell on it. Wallow in it. Fume over it."


I found out today that a lady I work with is going after an MFA in poetry. This lady has two kids and a full-time job (and not an easy job). And she is going after a freakin MFA. I felt a mix of feelings while talking to her about it: jealousy, admiration, regret...blah blah blah

My attitude towards writing has really changed. The compulsion is still there, but my attitude has changed. I am not sure what this means, but this description seems to fit. And I'll probably delete this post anyway, like I do.

I had a fun, long conversation with her, though, about poetry and writing, and then somebody scary came into the room, and I directed the conversation out the door and to a prompt but polite conclusion in the hall. It felt good to talk about all that stuff. First time in a long time. It felt a little silly too though. I used to be all about the writing shit, but now, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. The idea of submitting stuff to journals or going after an advanced degree or doing anything writerly like seems like somebody else's life. But the compulsion to write stuff is still VERY STRONG in this one.

I am not sure exactly what I want to do with this compulsion. I should deal with it like any other disease, probably. Whenever I have relapses, I should seek treatment.

I still have this blog. This is a good place for bloodletting and deal with that nasty writing bug.

You see: I have to write...even if it results in my being homeless and having to write on old Whopper wrappers with pencils stolen from lottery ticket counters.

'The Walking Videos'

I wish I had this attitude when I missed the bus.

I'm really into what this guy has to say lately:

"See we can worry about every little thing that's happening or we can stop being so focused on the individual appearances and their descriptions and the judgements we have about them. You know they just arise and we can either focus on them or we can relax, let them be, rejoice, recognize that awareness is not affected by all the changes, and that all changes are pure confirmation of unaffected presence."


Growth Isn’t Always Linear: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

I posted what I posted last time, and then I came across this article on a site that I read and love a lot,

Growth Isn’t Always Linear: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back


As Sour as I Was When I Started

Am I just as sour as I was when I started? It all started when I realized I was getting way too pissed off at other drivers. This is back when I had that hour commute....and all that time to think. This is back in 2007 I think, or 2008. I read a tall stack of anger management books, writings on depression, anxiety books, i'm okay you're okay and the like, emotional iq, blah blah psychology stuff, Buddhist writings...a lot of it. That's all I read for a while there. Has it done me any good? Did it do me good for a while and then stop doing me good? Did I overdo it? Am I in a temporary funk? Am I good on some levels, but I never did fully lick that road rage thing? My soul is okay, but I'm still a grouch on some levels. No visible change, but underneath, I'm grand? Or.... Still depressed. Still anxious. Am I locked on negative stuff, identifying with LETTING GO valves are clogged. Sometimes it seems like I've made no progress. Or maybe it is this: I lapse. I lapse, and due to the progress I made before, I recover quicker. Or something. Don't know what. You never do away with that negative stuff, I know. But. Why am I sitting here thinking about it and typing about it... Why did I feel the urge to type this?

Lately I'm into this guy below, and maybe the whole problem (or appearance of a problem)is this: It's like other times when I really stirred up my spiritual shakes a lot of stuff loose. Anyway, yes, typing all this stuff is already making me feel better. This blog has always been and will continue to be my dumping ground for garbage in my brains. And my place for personal reminders to myself or anybody who cares to read em: Sometimes you need to revisit the old lessons. Sometimes you find a new source or teacher that rehashes old lessons but who brings new stuff, shaking the whole thing up in your head....