Brain Spastic Outburst

I've got a couple of big projects I'd like to work on. Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure what I need to do to see them out. I spend most of my days doing the Dad thing, and while that is so fulfilling, I can't stand the fact that the rest of my time is spent consumed in the unlofty path of food service.

Sure, it's a job. In some circles that supposedly something you can be proud of. I expect more of myself though. I don't why. I didn't do college, and as for my selected post high school activities, well, I did such a good job of shooting myself in the foot with that, while I could go back, I really can't because all the fun aspects of "real life" that keeps me on this same grease-infested path to nowhere. I shouldn't expect more. I've done nothing to prepare, or I have squandered anything I did have going for me, because I was young, dumb, and full of... well, you get the idea.

As I've come across different sources of "inspiration" over that past few weeks, there's a lot of talk that is just THAT... talk. Too many formulaic equations of "do what I do" out there. We're made of stuff that is inherently unique, and the stimuli that gains favor with our guide is different for each, and yet somehow the same. It's a big circle chase when you come down to it. It's all a frustrating same-but-different foot we step forward with. The tragic part is that most modern-day leadership seems too ill equipped to handle such diversity, or they prefer the proverbial ostrich-like head burying maneuver to drown out the obvious differences that require more attention than their quasi-corporate world building model would allow.

I guess, my thoughts on any of this really do not matter. It makes no difference that I had such a huge amount of help ending up in this unexpected canyon-esque valley. My thoughts on the rivers of BS that flow from those whom we look to for light and inspiration have no bearing as the rest of the world seems content to follow them blindly. The myriad of questions raging about why, how, and what might as well get shelved. I've only the reality of "what is" before me. Unfortunately, I am probably one of the most stubborn people I know when it comes to just about anything but what I SHOULD do.

Perhaps it's rebellion, perhaps it's some internal need to excuse a rapid succession of inaction that has put me here. I suppose it might actually be tinted with a genuine concern whose demands must be met even at the expense of what everyone will see as correct or appropriate. But all of those come together for a big goose-egg zero in the meaning scale when it comes to getting me the heck out of this mess I'm in. And I think that bothers me more than anything to have the wildest raging parts of my emotion boxed for the sake of "getting somewhere."

It's not just about me anymore. When I can close my eyes, spin, and point to any one of a hundred people off living their little happy suburban lives complete with minivans, 2.5 kids, and a little yard I wonder if I can just fall in line with what needs to happen until time to jump ship. Sure, I could play nice until I get somewhere worth being, but I think once you get used to playing the game you're tempted to keep going for the sake of keeping whatever bribes on "Easier" Street the puppet masters send your way.

I know it sounds like a stick-it-to-the-man conspiracy eccentric plea for anarchy. It's anything but I assure you. Because we are such a diverse grouping of humanity the gift of that is, we have so many different circles we can be apart of, thrive, and perhaps not feel like we're selling the best of ourselves to the worst of those who'd have us. I think my biggest problem is that in my shopping I'm not seeing anything worth buying, (at least that's lining up with the availability of resources as it pertains to life's situation) and while my pickyness can only go so far before the half-pint reality sinks in that it's truly not about me, and I'm going to need to find a way to get over it. Even if it cost everything. I just can't seem to make myself fall in line willingly.

So if you're still with me this far into the blog you're either truly interested, bored, or rubbernecking this accident. Either way you've probably got a raised eyebrow with one of the "what the?" looks. It's okay I get all the time. Especially when I wright. To simplify this let me just say I've got some goals, and I've got to make a plan:

- I'm looking to finish the novel.
- I'm looking at going to school.
- I'm looking to get my act back into a certain career saddle.
- I'm looking at beginning a.... LOL... I'm going to keep this one a surprise for later. ;-)

And to do so I've got to quiet the storm raging through the synapses of my spinning mind. You got just a taste with that little barrage. Now imagine putting a "peace be still" on that, times a thousand, to find enough focus to plan and execute those above points. It may seem like nothing to you, but to me you might as well ask me to sprout wings, because that's about what it's going to take for me to do this solo.

Ah, but that's not where this story can end. Because there was this guy whose book I read once. His name was Isaiah-something. And it seems that I read a little ditty about getting something kin to said wings. It would seem then that I will be able to run/walk my way into getting past all the issues, work them out, find a way to get as far away from my life-sucking job as possible, all while etching my thoughts and ideas into a few sacred cornerstones. The points of that book have given me some hope that there may be a way past all of that. There might be something to look forward to, and I finally might be able to feel a little satisfaction at the end of the day.

I don't know about you, but I'm pumped. In a perfect world I would love to have the occasional hand to help me get over a rock or two on the climb up. I sure wouldn't mind some conversation to keep me occupied and focused while on the trip. A few cheerleaders who will clap, scream, and throw those little footballs into the stands when I do something good would be nice too. I was built for many things, but solitude is not one of them, and yet despite all these cool blogs, facebooks, twitters, etc. I find myself feeling like Owen Wilson in BEHIND ENEMY LINES alone, lost, desperately trying to get to the evac helo while enemy snipers are taking pot shots here and there.

Poor me? Ah, not so much. But it's just the truth of what is. I think most everybody feels about the same at some point. Truth is we probably travel on the most crowded "lonely" boat on the water. Yet we do it anyway. Afraid to open up? Not sure who to trust with our pearls? Buying into the commonality that it's truly every man for himself so shut up and drive? Whatever the case, it's a sad but true fact. We don't know who to trust, and sometimes, we just want to be seen as valuable enough to be sought out. After all how cool would Neo have been if he had filled out an application to be The One? It was the fact that more experienced, older, and wiser Morpheus made it his life's goal to find him. Don't we all just want to believe that we possess something good enough for at least one person to look past all our junk, imperfections, and weakness to seek us out like that? Sure, it's a vain tinged fantasy, but one we secretly harbor. At least I do.

So as this mountain of a blog winds down, a smirk is forming at the corner of my mouth, because I know there are a TON of people who will read this and not know what to think. Many won't get it. A few might, some won't make it to the end, or they'll just kind of glaze through it. LOL. For some this will confirm their charges of my oddity, but in the end, at least one person is going to take something that will stick with them beyond the bored net surfing that has most people not in such a heavy mood when they stumble across this.

If you can walk into a room full of people and still feel amazingly alone because you know nobody gets it, they don't understand, they can't understand, and/or it's not their place to understand then I would, with an amusing amount of irony, say you're not alone... but come on, let's face it, you really are. Let's not blow sunshine and call things as though they aren't. Feelings are legitimate. If you have a hole, then you need to fill it... actively. Don't wait for a Morpheus, because he's probably not coming. I've made some request, and I will be making some more here soon, that borderline desperate as far as getting the attention of certain types of people I felt were lacking in my life. Some looked at me like I was strange, some where those who didn't get it and left me hanging, (that felt awesome, let me tell you) but there's some who've really picked up the ball and ran with it. All because I was willing to be transparent with a need and they were kind enough to understand and engage.

If you need more from a friend. Go for it. Tell them. If they can't be what you need, it will let you know so that you can find what you do. The best way to travel is in groups. Unfortunately everyone is waiting on someone else to make the first move. Quit being alone.

Anyway, that's all my craziness has time for tonight. I'm not sure where this particular post falls, so we'll just put in the Simpson category, because we know nothing ever makes sense with that guy, he's just so strange. If there was a part you like, give a shout, if there was a part you didn't like.... keep it to yourself or lie.

I leave you now with this thought:

"Simpson, I love your way... everyday."

YO