I’m a terrible blogger. I don’t care about that, but it’s a fact. There should probably be something interesting going on in one’s life in order to provide content for a semi-periodical publication. I’m lacking that. Maybe, in this case, where the stated goal is cheap and ineffective therapy, we’re finally getting somewhere here. For starters, this thing hasn’t cost me a dime. I’ve saved hundreds (maybe thousands) of dollars, and I’m still not a highly functional person.
Progress might be happening…I don’t know. When the bar starts out on the floor, it’s a pretty easy obstacle to overcome. It’s taking a long time to raise the expectations and demands on myself. Maybe I’m doing that right now. I’m not the one to ask. I know nothing about myself, except that I’ve wasted a lot of time, hurt a lot of people (including myself), and really haven’t contributed anything of note to myself, my family, or my friends. It’s good to know where you stand, at least.
Painting gives a person a lot of time to think. It might be a good thing, and it has the possibility of becoming a very bad thing. It’s kind of interesting to think about what the hell I was thinking about a year ago at this time when I was painting. There’s so much time wasted on frivolity—and the very nature of painting is quite temporary—there isn’t much of a chance anything I’m painting will look even decent in a decade. Paint is transient on a continental steppe. As transient as any mood or feeling…
The things going through the mind a year ago make absolutely no sense to me today. I’m getting more confident the things rushing around in there today might well make no sense in even a week. In a year, I might not be able to even decipher the swirling mess that now exists. Today’s stew is notably better than last year’s stew—still inedible gibberish.
I still follow sports, for example, despite the fact that I’m aware it’s one of the very few things that can get me truly bent out of shape. The thing is overwhelmingly out of my control, and I still sometimes get upset about events that occur among people I don’t know doing something better than I ever could, and I get upset because I have chosen a side. I’ve taken some rooting interest, and with that interest comes inevitable comparison/contrast, celebration/damnation, success/failure…and I guess I still care because the good can be pretty damned good. Or because I’m a fool. Or both.
That aside, politics in this country/state/community has become sort of the same type of event. There is one side that seems to be clearly overwhelmed and much dumber than the other. Sometimes upsets (common sense) occur, but more often than not, silliness and stupidity rule the day. I’m not claiming I’m bright at all—I’m not. Given the opportunity, I could rip a page out of the phone book, and within an hour or so find an auditorium of people quite a bit smarter than me about an incalculable number of things. I don’t know shit. So I’ve got to somehow turn that personal deficiency into an asset in the coming years. Unfortunately, I’m quite stupid, so I don’t exactly know how to devise a plan to make that happen. I’m too dumb to even know where to start, except that I’m pretty sure I have to make myself a little smarter, at least, in order to make it happen. It’s a terrific dilemma. I hope, I suppose, to find and listen to what someone has to say about that someday…I’ll likely be too stupid to recognize when it’s happening, and I’ll fail to give the advisor an audience, in all likelihood.
Now that I’m stuck on the subject, I’m not sure I’ve made one good decision in my life. Almost all the “good choices” I’ve made were made more or less on my behalf—my elections were made by default. When a person is backed in a corner without a true choice, or a plan of action laid out and directed as an alternative to demise, I guess that’s not much of a character builder. I guess sticking to the plan is something, but I’m not even sure about that.
It’s the life choices I’m talking about here. I don’t necessarily want to be alone, but I sure as hell don’t want anyone around making me miserable. I’m told by others that it doesn’t necessarily have to be that way, but I honestly don’t think I’d see a good thing if it were right in front of me. I have absolutely no confidence in my own ability to discern good from bad on an interpersonal level. I have to classify everything as categorically “BAD” and work back from that point. I don’t trust people at all. I’m told I do to an extent, but most people out there say the things that they believe are pleasurable to the ear. People aren’t deliberately assholes, usually. There are exceptions to every rule, and I seem to be living my life through being always wary of the exceptional.
There is no guidance, no direction, and no point to this discourse. I know that. This is the everyday state of my existence at this time. Maybe someday I can improve on this.
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