All Deep and Meaningful

I've decided that I write in my blog most when I have something deep and meaningful to say, and I don't know who to share it with. Either I haven't had anything deep or meaningful to say, or I've gotten better at sharing it. I'm too busy living to blog.

Overload.

There are too many thoughts in my head right now to sort through. They are piling up and taking over my brain. I need to organize them. I do not have the energy or wherewithal to do so. Warning: Overload.

If you want to help me sort my brain, please let me know. I could use some help. But let me caution you: it is a jumbled mess, and highly ADHD right now.

I saw the light

I was out in the sun today.
I got to work on my vitamin D absorption.
That hasn't happened in a while, so I was happy.

I have a lot of good things happening for me right now.
I have a lot of tough things too.
But I have enough good to outweigh the rest.

As I lay in the grass this afternoon
thinking of how nice it would be
to no longer be nocturnal,
I started counting.

Counting the days
the hours
the minutes.
And it's not so bad.

The things that I'm longing for are soon to come.
The things that I dread are soon to pass.
And from there, I wonder where I will go.
What will I look forward to in 3 months?
Where will I be in 4 years?

Who and what controls who I am?
Every time I update my facebook,
every time I post on my blog,
less of me is personal anymore.
More of me becomes public.
I don't know quite how I feel about that.

And who really cares?
When I put so much of myself on
facebook
twitter
myspace
youtube
blogger
etc
How do I know who really cares?
Who really wants to know how I'm feeling?
Who really wants to know what makes me tick?
Who cares enough to go beyond what's online?
It's no longer work
to get to know someone.

Or is it?
Maybe now, it's more work than ever before.
Because we post a lot of lies on the internet.
Easy way to put only our best foot forward.
And only those who really try
really know us.

I have friends in 8 different countries, and I see
that our cultures are borrowing from each other
dropping old habits,
picking up new.

The world is changing
It's shrinking.
While we all struggle to be different,
this is the point when we're all starting
to come together.
To become more similar.

What does that do to the global society?
What does that do to my generation?
Am I ok with that?
Where will we be in 10, 20, 50 years?
Is it sustainable?
Will it drive us crazy?

The real question,
for my generation is:
Do we define pop culture
or does it define us?

And either way, what do we do about it?

I wrote

I wrote down the words that I needed to say.
Not to you, don't give yourself so much credit.
To me. Yeah you can call me selfish.
Anyway...

I wrote them down and then tore them up.
The shredded pieces falling softly like rain
around my toes, cold on the kitchen floor.
I looked at the paper shredder and laughed.
It was jealous
that I got all the fun of ripping up the words today.
I told my clicky pen and my clackety keyboard
that their services would no longer be needed
(yet here I type).

I said I would be done with words for a while.
I decided I needed action, energy, and life.
As much magic as it takes to breathe life into words,
I figured that spell could be better used elsewhere,
at least for a change of scenery.
So I started to skip using words.
Who needs 'em anyway?
A picture's worth a thousand.
They're dangerous too,
if you've ever read Proverbs.
I wondered if my life was worth any.

And as I started talking, writing, typing less,
everything else started making more sense.
Someone told me once that I spend too much time planning.
Not enough time doing.
He told me to quit learning how.
Quit looking for more instructions in the manual.
I've read it, now do it.
But maybe I was looking for the purpose in all these words.

Well he was right.
It's tough to get stuff done
when all you do is plan for it.
And it's even tougher to carry out that plan
that I so meticulously pieced together
from the scraps of yesterday's hard-learned lessons.

Because the more you plan,
the more likely it is that something will go wrong.
So maybe I oughtta be done with this whole planning thing.
It's working out better so far.

At One Point in my Life

At one point in my life
there was Classic Crime and a truck ride
to my little town
where big things happen.

At one point in my life
there were chocolate ducks
filled with whipped cream
and giggling late at night.

At one point in my life
there were scrubs and masks
as we watched surgery
and got a catheter as a prize.

At one point in my life
there was a walk in the snow
past the goats and bears
and I didn't wear a scarf.

At one point in my life
there were infomercials
and I guessed wrong every time
except once, and I screamed.

At one point in my life,
there was an obedient freshman
and she bowed to me
and I loved her anyway.

At one point in my life,
there were awkward hugs
and impromptu jam sessions
and it made me who I am.

At one point in my life,
there was a youth library
with excellent books and better conversation
and we learned how to live.

At this point in my life,
I have all these experiences
and they shape me
and I am so grateful for who I have become.