Morning Madness

For the past few days I have been so tired and bored of doing nothing that I started looking to old habits on what I could do for fun. One of the things I used to do regularly was go outside everyday and take longs walks. Seriously, long walks. I used to go for approximately two hours, which somehow amounts to about seven miles at the pace I walk. After those, I would get back and my feet would hurt from the pressure, but I would just go lay down and wait the pain out.

But I want to be a little bit healthier than before, so I decided that instead of just walking I would also start running for short periods of time. In effect, I would not have to take quite as long walks to get the same amount of exercise and I could build up my lungs and muscles again. That was a few days ago.

Today, I went out running and about halfway through my round (which is a randomly set path that keeps me both active and going), I suddenly tripped over a bit of the sidewalk and went down hard. With cat-like reflexes, I caught myself, but at the price of a beaten up hand. I do not think the picture really gives what happened justice, because that happened to both my hands and that was right as I started bleeding, but whatever. You can see I scraped off a bit of the skin on my palms and I now have a large gash, about the size of a dime, on my hand.

So what did I do after this happened? I picked myself back up and continued running on of course. And even with my fall, I still managed to run just under one and a half miles in eleven minutes (that is included the fall). In other words, I do not think I am taking this as a bad omen and I still love that endorphin enriched feeling that comes from exercising. I think I'll keep running, or walking, or whatever.

As an after note, when I got home I immediately cleaned the wound, then started cleaning the house without a bandaid. That includes emptying litter boxes for the cats, cleaning dirty dishes, making coffee (most important chore of all), and some vacuuming. I managed to also break the vacuum by using it so perfectly. Which reminds me, where I vacuumed looks damn amazing now. Anyway, I still have more household work to do now that I've showered. Parents are on their way home tonight!

Return to Normal Sleep

I just have to say for all those that do not understand the title of this post, it is a play on words with the idea of return to normalcy. Not that the idea of returning to normalcy really matters much to what I want to talk about today, but I thought it was creative and I did not want that to slip. So anyway, just wanted to get that off my chest.

For the past month or so my sleep schedule has been all off the schedule and it has sort of been driving me mad, sort of been a blessing. I would go to sleep between 4AM and 6AM and then I would not wake-up until noon. It was sort of nice, a way to have the house to myself while also still sharing it with my parents. But the idea of getting up at midday bothered me, half my time in the daylight already gone and half my day with the puppy was also half-passed. So while my parents were actually away, to dodge the criticism that seems to follow my sleep habits, I actually pushed my entire schedule forward by two to four hours a day until I was finally back to sleeping when the sun is down and getting up at the crack of down. I like it.

I like the idea of getting up with the sunrise so much that I am actually going to set my alarm for 6:30AM every morning just to insure I never get ahead of myself again. There is something truly spectacular about watching the sunrise, like a piece in time that only certain folks can afford to see. It is not like the sunset, many more people are acquainted with the way the sun dips behind mountains here, but not many know what it is like to see the sun rise from the plains.

And for those curious as to what it feels like to completely change your sleeping schedule by moving forward one light-zone a day, it is miserable. When you wake-up for the first time in the middle of the night and feel well rested, your body starts to ache for no real reason except that it is mad at you. And it is depressing as well, to think that you will not get to see the sun until the end of several long hours. On top of all that, what can you do? The stores are all closed, the people you know and love are all tuckered into their beds and fast asleep, and you have to find ways to pass the time. Sure, there is the internet, but that only lasts so long before you realize how much you want to be with actual people. I do not recommend having a sleep schedule where you sleep when the sun is up, it casts a hopeless fate on the soul.

Anyway, whole day ahead of me now I suspect, so I'm off to enjoy it!

A Long Day

After a sleepless night and a kind wait for my parents to depart, I was finally back to a state I had not been in over three months. I was home alone, cast off to do my own bidding in a place that I could arrange as my own temple. And so my first action of the day was to go out and seek breakfast food from a fast food place. I first thought maybe McDonalds, because I was craving their breakfast burritos, but I soon discovered something rotten about living here in subburbia, they actually close down and do not open at four in the morning. And yes, I checked a multitude of locations before finally letting the white flag rise and moving onward. I went to Einstein's instead and had a lovely bagel sandwich, though it did not replace my original want of a good breakfast burrito. The second action I attempted for the day was to start writing.

For the first time in months I have started writing again, working on a fresh story with some brand new ideas. I cannot say that I have made very much progress so far, but that is from both being captivated by other things, having other tasks at hand, and just not being very satisfied with the way my story was beginning. Already I have re-written the beginning at least five times and after re-reading what I had written a little later I am already thinking of re-writing it again. And that saddens me that I cannot find the right footing for my story, which may or may not be the most important part to where this goes. Still, what I have is better than what I had and what I want is but an arms grasp away I hope. So I will continue writing to see where this goes, and hopefully after I purge this start I will be able to more successfully continue on faster.

But that was not the long part of the day. After both the sleepless night and trying time and time again to write that beginning, I grew tired and decided to fall asleep. I do not think I have had such a deep sleep in months, for there were no worries to be placed upon me and nothing to wake me up. I slept for hours, comfortable and confidently as the deep sleep pulled me in. Stress was a thing of the past and when I awoke I was actually sore from sleeping so well. That is right, I woke-up to find that my body was actually more sore then than it had been before I sought off for my dreamy worlds. So I stretched and began the rest of my day, which at that point was at sundown.

I went to the store, something I have not done in a while, and I bought several items of food that have been missing from my parents household since my Dad resumed cooking again. I do not think he understands that if you cook with fresh vegetables and fruits you end up with a more delicious meal. Anyway, I bought several things that I thought I might need in the coming week and then returned back home. Upon getting there, my stomach growled and I felt the fit of hunger that bestows upon a young person of my age who has not eaten in over eight hours. I set forth cooking a spicy chicken recipe that I had invented rather myself and come to love. It came out perfectly and then I felt tired again. 

But before letting the dreamy worlds get the best of me, I also started my laundry. When I would wake, it would be folding time for lots of clothes. On a side note, that was the first time that I had actually proceeded to do laundry in at least a month. Sure, I changed out my pants when they started to feel dirty and I would grab at a clean shirt after every shower, but that was still the longest time I have ever gone without doing laundry before. And then I feel asleep for the second time in the day. After waking up, I folded the clothes and decided to write a blog to explain everything, which looking back feels rather empty of any actual news. Oh well. I have a feeling I will not be sleeping tonight, maybe I will write another. Better yet, maybe I will start back at working on my novel!

Another Abstract: The Same Old Dream

I cannot be exactly sure where in my head I was when I wrote the following piece, but it was yet another late-night writing exercise. It probably was created somewhere in the deeper thoughts of what I am currently thinking about, but still the following is a quick piece I wrote. And after writing it, and maybe because I was just a bit bored, I decided to upload it to my blog. Who knows, maybe someone will read it and think it is brilliant, though abstract and random as it is. So here it is, another abstract I wrote.

The Void of the Same Old Dream
Ever get that feeling like you are just wasting away your time, like your current presence on this planet is about as meaningful as a rock. You get this idea that you are matter, floating through the infinite space and consuming and changing other matter that you bump into, but in the end nothing has really changed. Instead, you have become just a different set of matter that has moved on. In this scenario, time becomes nothing, a separate thought completely since there is no reason to measure it lest you want to know what part of the day you are in. And even that stop mattering, because you stay awake late and night and ponder the many mysteries that man has pondered since the beginning of time.

It is in this state that I am now moving into the third month of my blog's existence and the third month of my unemployment reign. And for what I've got to offer, which is not a whole lot to the world right now since they do not see my piece of mind as more than entertaining (which I should maybe take as a compliment), is just more space for words to fill the void. More space taken up by the thoughts and impressions that I can leave, an implant.

It is that same implant on your bed, the one where you clutch at night as if there is someone there to fill the space that air occupies. It is a strange feeling, to be that amount of nothingness that floats around and exaggerates everything because there is nothing that cannot be exaggerated. And the sense of senselessness becomes the property of the proposition, a dedication to the delegation and a prison of prions. And yet it is still void.

Void. I stare at the paper as blank as the day that it was purchased and I see nothing but the white. There are blue lines running across it, it is notebook paper filled into the spiral notebook I bought from the store. Still, there is nothing on it and it just fills in the space between to slightly thicker cover and the cardboard back. So why does it matter as such, that the paper be empty of a scratch of ink or a dash of the pencil. because of the possibilities that lie beneath every thought that crosses over the page. To press the pen and to give a meaning fills the book, gives it purpose in translating though from one person to the next and from one minute to another. Yet before any of that happens there is an infinity in the void. Because in having an absence of absolution there is actually an infinite amount of possibilities. And that is why I stare at the paper and watch as my mind bubbles up the images off the pages and into my head. Because there is no limit to the thoughts that can fill it until the pen touches.

But it does not matter, because I am not looking at the paper. Instead, I am staring at the void of space next to me in my bed, the thing that could be filled with a person, could be permitted to be something more than just empty space. It is nothing, there is no one there, but it means more than that. Until there is someone lying next to me, filling the void and warming the grasp it is an infinite amount of possibilities. Possibilities and possessions they mean the exact opposite, but only when talking about the bit of air.

And since there is no time, no space, nothing else to stare at because you are matter floating through space, it turns out that there never was a bed there to begin with. Instead, it was just your imagination as you float on to become something more than just the rock. You float on to become more than that, to be a thing that someone else wants to hear about the thoughts and impressions.

Living in the Bubble

You know, it is weird how sometimes comedies and comedians tend to capture the real world with a blown out-of-proportion piece on what the real world is. Take for example the case and lifestyle philosophy presented in the show 30 Rock, where in one episode they start describing certain people as living "in the bubble". For those that have no seen the episode about living "in the bubble" or have never heard the idea, the bubble is a place where beautiful, handsome, and just abnormally over-respected people live their blessed life. They tend to be handed things their entire life, given opportunities that normally would not exist because they live in a superficial world where they already have good looks and so others tend to focus on them more. And the worst part about being in the bubble is that they cannot see that they are in the bubble, but instead wonder why others outside the bubble are treated differently without connecting the two. Like I said, a strange philosophy, but the bubble is actually a real world thing that happens all the time.

Requested Blog: How I Am Driving My Father Insane

Today I did not know what I wanted to write about and I decided to take a request. So I went up to my Dad, who was sitting on his computer in our kitchen, and I just asked him what I should write a blog about. He said, "How about how you are driving you father nuts!" I thought about it for a minute, chuckling at the idea, and decided that it sounds like a great idea. I mean, sure, why not talk about how he is going crazy with me being home.

Great Friends Last a Lifetime

I know that I do a lot of blog posts about my friends, but then again where would I be without them. They are like my family, they shape me into the person I am and they help guide me through the darkest of times. And the one thing I have always tried to do is hold my friendships throughout anything that life might through at us.

But this time, I would like to single out one friend that I have had for years now, one that I've had quarrels with and we've gotten through a lot of weird things that friends do not normally have to go to. This is my best friend (though not my only best friend) Jordan. Let me just give a brief history and then why I'm making this post.

The Elixir of Good Luck

On an earlier article I was talking about how I understood dubstep as being this type of electronic music where the musician takes a bunch of terrible sounds and puts them together as something that comes out amazing. And I started discussing that maybe that is the difference between some people, where there are those that take the worst things in their life and make the best of it. Well, in all honesty that is what this article is about, how there are those people out there that take the worst things and make the best out of it. In hindsight we sometimes call that good luck.

Take the following situation that almost everyone has been in, where they are out with their friend or friends and telling a story. Then they get to the end of their amazing tale of something incredible that has happened. Then one of their friends says that they have "Good Luck" with whatever happened. Well, there might just be some truth behind that statement, but there is also another really good explanation. See, in several recent scientific studies (one included in this link) it was found that people with "good luck" might also have a different outlook on life.

In the following article I've written, I've devised it into two different parts. In the first part, I just want to speak directly about optimism and how it affects good luck. In the second part, I wanted to briefly go over what they call optimistic thinking.

Jobs for Junior

The first time I heard about parents getting involved in helping their children get or keep jobs at certain companies was a small article in the newspaper. In the article, the son went into an interview and apparently blew it. The company sent him a letter a few days later saying that they did not want him for the position and they wished him the best of luck. Instead of taking it as a loss and moving on, the son called up his parents and told them about the interview. Apparently his mother actually went over to the office and started talking with the hiring personnel, asking why they did not like her little boy and what was wrong with him.

What a lunatic!