She said yes.
After all this time, after everything that should have happened, didn't happen, and did happen, she says yes.
Resignation to the end, huh?
Just like the Vietnamese soldier who kept on walking down the trail into the mist, headed to a village called 'My Khe'.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Carpe Diem
I've been ignoring the blog for a while. I logged into it randomly today to find that I've been getting hits, but no comments. Who the hell is reading this? Probably just random people, passing by. The internet it a big place, you know.
Anyways, I probably should have never stopped in the first place. I like to have a place to spill out all my useless thoughts. Facebook/Twitter just don't cut it..
Carpe Diem. If there is anything I can say has had a true impact on me from AP Literature, it is this concept. It's a Latin phrase that roughly translates to 'Seize the Day'. It's a theme that was at the core of a lot of Romantic Era Literature. It's pretty simple. I love it.
Unfortunately, I haven't been seizing my days very much till recently. And even then, I've only begun to take baby steps. Whether is is regarding my school, hobbies, health, or relationships, I'm ready to make the most out of it. I'm sick of seeing opportunities pass by because I've involved my self in the wrong stuff. From today, I'm kicking out all the junk. I'm glad to say I've already started the process.
Still, the only thing that hurts is that every day, I have to have a banner of missed opportunity waved in front of me. I guess it's for the better. Anger is a strong emotion that can motivate people to do great things.
I could write so much more about this. Right now I feel like spilling out my soul somwhere, like Tim O'Brien did at the river on the border of Canada and the US, (speaking of which, you should all read 'The Things They Carried' by O'Brian.), I want to get rid of this weight that's been sitting on my mind for months. But right now I'm too tired. I suppose that the fact that I came back to this blog is good enough for tonight. Baby steps. Plus, I have lot's for deficit homework to do :P.
Anyways, I probably should have never stopped in the first place. I like to have a place to spill out all my useless thoughts. Facebook/Twitter just don't cut it..
Carpe Diem. If there is anything I can say has had a true impact on me from AP Literature, it is this concept. It's a Latin phrase that roughly translates to 'Seize the Day'. It's a theme that was at the core of a lot of Romantic Era Literature. It's pretty simple. I love it.
Unfortunately, I haven't been seizing my days very much till recently. And even then, I've only begun to take baby steps. Whether is is regarding my school, hobbies, health, or relationships, I'm ready to make the most out of it. I'm sick of seeing opportunities pass by because I've involved my self in the wrong stuff. From today, I'm kicking out all the junk. I'm glad to say I've already started the process.
Still, the only thing that hurts is that every day, I have to have a banner of missed opportunity waved in front of me. I guess it's for the better. Anger is a strong emotion that can motivate people to do great things.
I could write so much more about this. Right now I feel like spilling out my soul somwhere, like Tim O'Brien did at the river on the border of Canada and the US, (speaking of which, you should all read 'The Things They Carried' by O'Brian.), I want to get rid of this weight that's been sitting on my mind for months. But right now I'm too tired. I suppose that the fact that I came back to this blog is good enough for tonight. Baby steps. Plus, I have lot's for deficit homework to do :P.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Leave this here for now
I'm gonna leave this quote here for now, i'll edit the post to talk about it when I time..
"You'll never have that kind of relationship in a world where you're afraid to take the first step because all you see is every negative thing 10 miles down the road."
"You'll never have that kind of relationship in a world where you're afraid to take the first step because all you see is every negative thing 10 miles down the road."
Catharsis
I have to say, this whole blogging things has been quite cathartic. I can't say that it's made me happier, but it does make things easier..
Goodnight, Travel Well.
I feel like crap, sleep isn't an option, and I'm drowning in work. I've taken all these responsibilities that I can't handle. On top of that, I made a ridiculous fool of myself, and totally lost my composure today. Right now I feel like I'm holding on to my dignity by a few strands. The worst part is that I have to face all the same people again, tomorrow. More on that later..
On another note, I've got a show that I've been left in charge of directing and managing while our executive producer is gone to Australia for the week. It's hell. I can't manage to get 5 people to do their part. We're behind schedule, we're not organized, we lack motivation, and Jeremy and I cannot manage to get most people to do crap.
I put the blame on my self, I mean, what can I expect when I lead with such a soft hand? I've exhibited a total failure of leadership, and it's plain embarrassing. I don't feel like I'm in charge of anything..
To be fair to myself, no one aside from maybe 3 or 4 people wants to do anything. They all lie and make dumb excuses so they can sit by while the rest of us running around, trying to keep the ship that is UTV held together. Jeremy and I argued about how we should spend our time. He says we should put the effort in to making sure everyone is doing or contributing something. Obviously that isn't working, or I wouldn't be writing this. Instead we just run around back and forth, trying to drag everyone back to their job over and over again. I say that we stop spending time trying to babysit everyone and just grab the few serious people we have and do everything ourselves. Jeremy says that is me "taking the easy way out". I don't know if it is easier or harder, but frankly, I don't care. I just want the studio ready to film and broadcast a show by Thursday noon.
I get now that when you're in charge, it's best for you to stay distant from the people you work with. My problem is that I've been trying too hard to be friends with everyone, to make everyone happy. I'm afraid of coming off as a dick.. How pathetic of me. I don't know why I act like such a sycophant all the time. If this show is gonna go anywhere, I've really got to stop that. I guess building a distance is something I'm gonna have to start working at. You think I'd be pretty good at it, seeing all the people I've managed to alienate in my life.
Distance. That something I should probably get better at maintaining if I want to get to where I wanna be in life. I've learned the hard way, time and time again, that you cannot rely on anyone. Friendship means nothing. Humans are naturally scummy, selfish, assholic beings. We're proud, we're arrogant, and we're pretentious. We've created a world where the self-absorbed narcissist are on top, and the charitable die alone. No one appreciates the Good Guy Greg's. We can't ever be relied on to do the right thing. As much as it kills me to say it, Thomas Hobbes is right about human nature. I want to believe in people, but I can't. Distance is the only way to keep yourself from being let down again and again by people.
I read a story on reddit from a man who met this 16 year old homeless girl on the streets. She was sitting on some corner, asking for money, but people would just walk by. So he went up to give her a fiver when he noticed that she not only had a child, but a little infant in her arms. She was a teenage mother. So he immediately took her with him, bought her groceries, diapers, baby formula, etc, and then took her to a diner for some breakfast. While sitting there, he managed to get her to open up about her situation. She explained that when she became pregnant, she stole $5000 from her parents and ran away, as she was scared of being punished. Obviously, the money didn't last very long, and soon she found her self living on the streets with a baby. She hadn't talked to anyone she knew or been home in over a year. So the guy convinces the girl to give him her family's number. He calls up the girls house and talks to her mother, who ends up breaking into a crying fit over the phone after learning her daughter is alive/all right. The guy talks to the girl and her parents, and eventually manages to convince the daughter to go back home, so he buys her a bus ticket and sends her back home to her family who take the girl and her baby in with open arms. That's the story (albeit horribly summarized)
I swear to you, when I read this story, I almost cried. I'm not usually one to get gooey over books or movies, but what I think hit me about this story was that true, pure humanity really exists. People are capable of doing proper, real good without any intention or expectations of receiving something in return. It was empathy at it's finest. But now, all this time later, I realize this story wasn't the rule, but the exception. It was naive of me to think that this story was anything but a statistical anomaly. After all, if anyone has been around and seen how brutal humans can be, I have.
In the spring of 2009, I was in one of the outskirt places of pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia, a mountain called Jabal Al-Nur, or 'The Mountain of Light', where the famous cave of Hira is located. There, at a local tourist rest point, a little group of homeless kids came up to us, begging us for money. They weren't regular kids, though. These kids were all missing body parts, whether is be hands or eyes. And no, these kids weren't born like that. If you've seen 'Slumdog Millionaire', you may be familiar with the practice of gangs kidnapping orphans or poor kids, 'disabling' them through amputation, acid, etc, and then sending them out on the streets to beg in order to bring in revenue for their pimps. I tried to take a picture of the kids so I could show people what was going on when I got back home, but the second I pulled the camera out, the kids reacted and started to hide and cover themselves. I assume their pimps trained them to do that. Eventually, I ended up dangling their equivalent of a hundred dollar bill in front of them, something they couldn't resist. They came out wide open after me while I took pictures. That was basically what was going on at one of the 'most holiest' sites of the country.
It's things like that which make me lose my faith in humanity. Everywhere I've been, whether it is Iraq or Italy, I've seen that that same lack of empathy and humanity in people. One summer in England, I find out that my cousin's roommate was stabbed outside their apartment while he was standing out for a smoke. Another summer, my brother is calling me from Pakistan to tell me that there was a huge bomb blast just blocks from where he was sleeping. The entire world is insane. Don't even get me started on all the fucked up things in America alone.
I know I've gone way off track, but I digress. The point is, you can't rely on people. You can't trust people. People are savages. We're animals who let the chemical and hormonal fluctuations that we call 'emotions' take the best of us. In a world of egotists, narcissists, and animals, the best way you can keep yourself from losing it is to keep yourself distanced from all of it. Just do what you have to do, don't lose yourself in the messy entanglements of life.
I guess what I mean to say is that I've come to realize that you can't have your cake and eat it too. When it comes to UTV, I can't try to be friends with most of these people and then expect them to see me as the guy in charge. When it comes to life, I'm done caring what others think. I'm done being the sycophant who makes requests for people to do their damned part. They either do it or they don't. If they don't want to, them fine by me, they can throw yourself under the bus for all I care, cause that's what I'm gonna end up doing with them..
Frankly, I'm done trying taking your shit. I'm done being your therapist and your diary. I'm done taking all the responsibilities you couldn't or didn't want to carry. I'm done believing in fairy tales.
And I am most definitely done chasing you and your ADHD-laced affections.
On another note, I've got a show that I've been left in charge of directing and managing while our executive producer is gone to Australia for the week. It's hell. I can't manage to get 5 people to do their part. We're behind schedule, we're not organized, we lack motivation, and Jeremy and I cannot manage to get most people to do crap.
I put the blame on my self, I mean, what can I expect when I lead with such a soft hand? I've exhibited a total failure of leadership, and it's plain embarrassing. I don't feel like I'm in charge of anything..
To be fair to myself, no one aside from maybe 3 or 4 people wants to do anything. They all lie and make dumb excuses so they can sit by while the rest of us running around, trying to keep the ship that is UTV held together. Jeremy and I argued about how we should spend our time. He says we should put the effort in to making sure everyone is doing or contributing something. Obviously that isn't working, or I wouldn't be writing this. Instead we just run around back and forth, trying to drag everyone back to their job over and over again. I say that we stop spending time trying to babysit everyone and just grab the few serious people we have and do everything ourselves. Jeremy says that is me "taking the easy way out". I don't know if it is easier or harder, but frankly, I don't care. I just want the studio ready to film and broadcast a show by Thursday noon.
I get now that when you're in charge, it's best for you to stay distant from the people you work with. My problem is that I've been trying too hard to be friends with everyone, to make everyone happy. I'm afraid of coming off as a dick.. How pathetic of me. I don't know why I act like such a sycophant all the time. If this show is gonna go anywhere, I've really got to stop that. I guess building a distance is something I'm gonna have to start working at. You think I'd be pretty good at it, seeing all the people I've managed to alienate in my life.
Distance. That something I should probably get better at maintaining if I want to get to where I wanna be in life. I've learned the hard way, time and time again, that you cannot rely on anyone. Friendship means nothing. Humans are naturally scummy, selfish, assholic beings. We're proud, we're arrogant, and we're pretentious. We've created a world where the self-absorbed narcissist are on top, and the charitable die alone. No one appreciates the Good Guy Greg's. We can't ever be relied on to do the right thing. As much as it kills me to say it, Thomas Hobbes is right about human nature. I want to believe in people, but I can't. Distance is the only way to keep yourself from being let down again and again by people.
I read a story on reddit from a man who met this 16 year old homeless girl on the streets. She was sitting on some corner, asking for money, but people would just walk by. So he went up to give her a fiver when he noticed that she not only had a child, but a little infant in her arms. She was a teenage mother. So he immediately took her with him, bought her groceries, diapers, baby formula, etc, and then took her to a diner for some breakfast. While sitting there, he managed to get her to open up about her situation. She explained that when she became pregnant, she stole $5000 from her parents and ran away, as she was scared of being punished. Obviously, the money didn't last very long, and soon she found her self living on the streets with a baby. She hadn't talked to anyone she knew or been home in over a year. So the guy convinces the girl to give him her family's number. He calls up the girls house and talks to her mother, who ends up breaking into a crying fit over the phone after learning her daughter is alive/all right. The guy talks to the girl and her parents, and eventually manages to convince the daughter to go back home, so he buys her a bus ticket and sends her back home to her family who take the girl and her baby in with open arms. That's the story (albeit horribly summarized)
I swear to you, when I read this story, I almost cried. I'm not usually one to get gooey over books or movies, but what I think hit me about this story was that true, pure humanity really exists. People are capable of doing proper, real good without any intention or expectations of receiving something in return. It was empathy at it's finest. But now, all this time later, I realize this story wasn't the rule, but the exception. It was naive of me to think that this story was anything but a statistical anomaly. After all, if anyone has been around and seen how brutal humans can be, I have.
In the spring of 2009, I was in one of the outskirt places of pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia, a mountain called Jabal Al-Nur, or 'The Mountain of Light', where the famous cave of Hira is located. There, at a local tourist rest point, a little group of homeless kids came up to us, begging us for money. They weren't regular kids, though. These kids were all missing body parts, whether is be hands or eyes. And no, these kids weren't born like that. If you've seen 'Slumdog Millionaire', you may be familiar with the practice of gangs kidnapping orphans or poor kids, 'disabling' them through amputation, acid, etc, and then sending them out on the streets to beg in order to bring in revenue for their pimps. I tried to take a picture of the kids so I could show people what was going on when I got back home, but the second I pulled the camera out, the kids reacted and started to hide and cover themselves. I assume their pimps trained them to do that. Eventually, I ended up dangling their equivalent of a hundred dollar bill in front of them, something they couldn't resist. They came out wide open after me while I took pictures. That was basically what was going on at one of the 'most holiest' sites of the country.
It's things like that which make me lose my faith in humanity. Everywhere I've been, whether it is Iraq or Italy, I've seen that that same lack of empathy and humanity in people. One summer in England, I find out that my cousin's roommate was stabbed outside their apartment while he was standing out for a smoke. Another summer, my brother is calling me from Pakistan to tell me that there was a huge bomb blast just blocks from where he was sleeping. The entire world is insane. Don't even get me started on all the fucked up things in America alone.
I know I've gone way off track, but I digress. The point is, you can't rely on people. You can't trust people. People are savages. We're animals who let the chemical and hormonal fluctuations that we call 'emotions' take the best of us. In a world of egotists, narcissists, and animals, the best way you can keep yourself from losing it is to keep yourself distanced from all of it. Just do what you have to do, don't lose yourself in the messy entanglements of life.
I guess what I mean to say is that I've come to realize that you can't have your cake and eat it too. When it comes to UTV, I can't try to be friends with most of these people and then expect them to see me as the guy in charge. When it comes to life, I'm done caring what others think. I'm done being the sycophant who makes requests for people to do their damned part. They either do it or they don't. If they don't want to, them fine by me, they can throw yourself under the bus for all I care, cause that's what I'm gonna end up doing with them..
Frankly, I'm done trying taking your shit. I'm done being your therapist and your diary. I'm done taking all the responsibilities you couldn't or didn't want to carry. I'm done believing in fairy tales.
And I am most definitely done chasing you and your ADHD-laced affections.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Night Makes a Fool of Us in Daylight.
"Dude, people will think you were raised on a farm or something."
Oh, my asshole best friends. Say what you want to them (or about them), they will still act like 9 year olds in the times I need them.. Can you blame them? But more on that later..
So today I basically confirmed something I've suspected for a long time.. I really don't want to get into details. I know no one reads this, but I wouldn't take any chances. So excuse me in advance for being so vague.
Basically, I've learned that despite the fact I have all the opportunity in the world, I don't have the freedom to make the once choice that really matters to me. That one choice that comes to define you, to make or break you (in Mosbian terms), I don't get to make. Nope. It's already decided for me. It was decided before I took my first gasp of air with my own little baby lungs. It's been etched into legal writing of the utmost authority, and is almost literally printed on to my very skin.
One quiet winter night in London in 2010, I was laying in my bed lost in the most chaotic, unsettling, distanced train of thought I have ever been in. I remember that petty things like choosing a major for college was fresh on my mind those days as senior year was quickly creeping up. It was all this thought-of-the-future that made me come up to the easily the most depressing, and lonely realization that I've ever had in my life. Everything I do, everyone I meet, every moment I experience is all for nothing, because I'm shackled to this one specific road. No, this one specific escalator. Going downwards. And I have no choice, because if I bail my self out of this 'escalator', the whole damned building that is my life will come crashing down in a pathetic, yet isolated mess.
Sorry for being so dramatic.. I don't expect anyone to understand what I'm talking about. And I'd rather they never, I want to be spared the looks of pity. All I care to say is that this decision is NOT related to my education, my future occupation, where I live, etc. It's much more important than any of that.. But yeah, it was a big, dramatic moment of clarity I had while laying on a crappy uncomfortable sofa-turned-bed in the room of a one-night-stay cramped hotel room near Canary Wharf on the 23rd of December at 3:39am. God, I still remember the feeling I had when I came to the big 'conclusion'. It as if my heart fell into my stomach, yet kept beating frantically till it simply withered away. I've done my best to forget when I learned that night, but this weekend, life decided to be a bitch and smear the truth all over my face.
All I care to say is that I now have concrete proof that I'm trapped. And It fucking sucks.
It fucking sucks to grow up with this idea that sticks with you and comforts you more than any friend or parent could. It's a thought that helps you sleep at night, a hope that drives you through the day. It's malleable, it'll change to be whatever you want it to be, yet at its core it remains the same. That idea becomes you and the very thing that defines you, all your greatest dreams, hopes, plans, aspirations.
And now it has all come crashing down on my head. The very thing I lived for ceased to exist, simply becoming one of the fairy tales one believed as a child. God knows that if I ever had a low point in life, this moment, this 39th minute of the 3rd hour of the 23rd of December was it. It has come to be the bane of my existence. But I still held on this idea by threads until tonight. This weekend, those last threads (or spinal cord) of hope I had for the future were cut, ending any doubts or hopes I had. It fucking sucked. It hurt bad.
Honestly, I have to admit something: It's this dreadful realization about my self that gave me the final push to decide that medicine really is something I want to pursue. I know now that if I'll never get to truly live for the sake my self, I may as well use that as an advantage and live for the sake of others. Now that the silver lining that kept me in touch with a "regular life" is gone, I know I can live that urgent, married-to-the-job life of an M.D. that has always attracted and yet repelled me. It would probably be the best thing I can do now. It's much better than the alternative dreadful lifestyle of the broken-willed man I've seen so many people (who were once just like me) eventually succumb to.
It's funny. All this time, my parents have always been adamant about me (read in indian/desi accent) "becoming a doctor". Now that I've decided I really do want to, and I know how I'm gonna do it once I'm there, it's going to be the one and greatest "FUCK YOU" statement I'll ever make to them. They don't know it yet. The won't know for years. Hell, they may never know at all. Funny how the world works..
To any poor soul that actually read that (though I doubt there is), I really don't expect you to understand ANY of what I was talking about here. You're missing the key piece to this whole thing. Frankly, I'd rather not tell. It's embarrassing, and too personal to ever talk about to all but a couple people, let alone write about on the internet.
I don't know, maybe I'm just being dramatic. Maybe not..
Oh, my asshole best friends. Say what you want to them (or about them), they will still act like 9 year olds in the times I need them.. Can you blame them? But more on that later..
So today I basically confirmed something I've suspected for a long time.. I really don't want to get into details. I know no one reads this, but I wouldn't take any chances. So excuse me in advance for being so vague.
Basically, I've learned that despite the fact I have all the opportunity in the world, I don't have the freedom to make the once choice that really matters to me. That one choice that comes to define you, to make or break you (in Mosbian terms), I don't get to make. Nope. It's already decided for me. It was decided before I took my first gasp of air with my own little baby lungs. It's been etched into legal writing of the utmost authority, and is almost literally printed on to my very skin.
One quiet winter night in London in 2010, I was laying in my bed lost in the most chaotic, unsettling, distanced train of thought I have ever been in. I remember that petty things like choosing a major for college was fresh on my mind those days as senior year was quickly creeping up. It was all this thought-of-the-future that made me come up to the easily the most depressing, and lonely realization that I've ever had in my life. Everything I do, everyone I meet, every moment I experience is all for nothing, because I'm shackled to this one specific road. No, this one specific escalator. Going downwards. And I have no choice, because if I bail my self out of this 'escalator', the whole damned building that is my life will come crashing down in a pathetic, yet isolated mess.
Sorry for being so dramatic.. I don't expect anyone to understand what I'm talking about. And I'd rather they never, I want to be spared the looks of pity. All I care to say is that this decision is NOT related to my education, my future occupation, where I live, etc. It's much more important than any of that.. But yeah, it was a big, dramatic moment of clarity I had while laying on a crappy uncomfortable sofa-turned-bed in the room of a one-night-stay cramped hotel room near Canary Wharf on the 23rd of December at 3:39am. God, I still remember the feeling I had when I came to the big 'conclusion'. It as if my heart fell into my stomach, yet kept beating frantically till it simply withered away. I've done my best to forget when I learned that night, but this weekend, life decided to be a bitch and smear the truth all over my face.
All I care to say is that I now have concrete proof that I'm trapped. And It fucking sucks.
It fucking sucks to grow up with this idea that sticks with you and comforts you more than any friend or parent could. It's a thought that helps you sleep at night, a hope that drives you through the day. It's malleable, it'll change to be whatever you want it to be, yet at its core it remains the same. That idea becomes you and the very thing that defines you, all your greatest dreams, hopes, plans, aspirations.
And now it has all come crashing down on my head. The very thing I lived for ceased to exist, simply becoming one of the fairy tales one believed as a child. God knows that if I ever had a low point in life, this moment, this 39th minute of the 3rd hour of the 23rd of December was it. It has come to be the bane of my existence. But I still held on this idea by threads until tonight. This weekend, those last threads (or spinal cord) of hope I had for the future were cut, ending any doubts or hopes I had. It fucking sucked. It hurt bad.
Honestly, I have to admit something: It's this dreadful realization about my self that gave me the final push to decide that medicine really is something I want to pursue. I know now that if I'll never get to truly live for the sake my self, I may as well use that as an advantage and live for the sake of others. Now that the silver lining that kept me in touch with a "regular life" is gone, I know I can live that urgent, married-to-the-job life of an M.D. that has always attracted and yet repelled me. It would probably be the best thing I can do now. It's much better than the alternative dreadful lifestyle of the broken-willed man I've seen so many people (who were once just like me) eventually succumb to.
It's funny. All this time, my parents have always been adamant about me (read in indian/desi accent) "becoming a doctor". Now that I've decided I really do want to, and I know how I'm gonna do it once I'm there, it's going to be the one and greatest "FUCK YOU" statement I'll ever make to them. They don't know it yet. The won't know for years. Hell, they may never know at all. Funny how the world works..
To any poor soul that actually read that (though I doubt there is), I really don't expect you to understand ANY of what I was talking about here. You're missing the key piece to this whole thing. Frankly, I'd rather not tell. It's embarrassing, and too personal to ever talk about to all but a couple people, let alone write about on the internet.
I don't know, maybe I'm just being dramatic. Maybe not..
Thursday, February 16, 2012
There's an empty space inside my heart where the weeds take root..
I wonder if anyone (forgetting the fact that no one reads this) could get the references in to my post's title's.. Did I use the apostrophe right?
"My mother is a fish"
So there was a family in in the hospital today.. Family and friends I suppose. They were all here for a man who was in the ER. He was in his 50's-60's, unconscious, all that good stuff. Judging by his state, I'd guess he was in a car accident due to the rain. (I can't be specific on details, I'm legally restricted from doing so. Won't risk it, not even on a blog that no one reads). I suppose he was a hopeless case as the doctor and Charge RN were talking to the (quite large) family/friends group in the 'Family Consultation' room while they all were crying their eyes out..
It's weird. I mean, the guy wasn't very young, but for his 50's he looked pretty young and healthy. And all of the sudden his life is cut short because of a freak accident. (Makes me wanna check out the weird thing my tires do in the rain..). Every time that family wears those same clothes, walks down the hallways of that hospital again, drive in the rain, or look at the date February 15th, all they will see (or at least the wife) is the day he died. I know stopped wearing the jacket that I was wearing the day a friend of mine died.
But that is life. One day or another, we all have to watch people we know and love go.. The weird part is watching them go. As I sat there in the ER a few weeks ago with another patient, and again today with this one, I realized the one thing I haven't gotten used to is just the fact that I'm standing there watching another persons life, their memories, their dreams, their aspiration, their hopes, their fears, their loves, their regrets, their sorrows, their joys, their grief, their beliefs, all of it, end so abruptly, so uselessly, and so pathetically. The Universe simply weeds them without pity, without respect, without any care at all. To watch someone die in front of your eyes, to see the very life from them just fade, to watch their soul dissipate and reduce them to just a husk of dead and dying organic material, a simple piece of meat. It is so strange. That is the best I can describe it. It is so strange, and despite being one of the most human processes of all, it is so alien. Are we really just a collection of electric impulses that "feel" through chemical and hormonal imbalances? Is that our destiny? Or are we something more? Religion tells us a great many things. Carl Sagan poetically states that 'we are a way for the Cosmos to know itself', although that still doesn't work out for us as individuals..
I'm scared of dying, yes. But I don't think I'm scared of death itself. If my faith is based in truth, then I suppose I will be in a great place. If I'm wrong, then there is nothing to fear, I'll never even know I was wrong.
But last night, I dreamt that a couple people I know came back to the realm of the living. No, they weren't undead zombies, just 'back' to living. I remember asking them "What's out there? What happens after you die?". The conventional answer in movies/literature/etc would be some vague answer stating that "you can't know till you're there yourself", but in my dream, my undead friends gave me an answer in the form of a cruel, solid, definite, final "Nothing". "Nothing happens, there is nothing afterwards" they said. I fought the answer with more question and suggestion, but they simply just said "No man, death is it"
I'll tell you, that answer upset me so much, I actually woke up right there and then with this horrible heavy feeling in my chest. It was a mix of hopelessness, despair, and anger. But mostly fear that I've never felt before. Not on that magnitude. I didn't wake up screaming. It wasn't a nightmare, but I've never woken up from a dream feeling that disturbed. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever felt that upset during my normal waking hours either.
And I don't understand. Death is something I've thought about. I've ran from it, I've rejected it, I've grieved because of it. I've accepted it. The thought of BEING dead is something (I thought) I came to terms with.
Here's some depressing food for thought:
Everyone you see, every friend, every sibling, every teacher, every picture. They're all going to one day be DEAD, DEAD, DEAD. Go out and do what you've wanted, DAMN IT!
I need to stop watching people die in the ER.
"My mother is a fish"
So there was a family in in the hospital today.. Family and friends I suppose. They were all here for a man who was in the ER. He was in his 50's-60's, unconscious, all that good stuff. Judging by his state, I'd guess he was in a car accident due to the rain. (I can't be specific on details, I'm legally restricted from doing so. Won't risk it, not even on a blog that no one reads). I suppose he was a hopeless case as the doctor and Charge RN were talking to the (quite large) family/friends group in the 'Family Consultation' room while they all were crying their eyes out..
It's weird. I mean, the guy wasn't very young, but for his 50's he looked pretty young and healthy. And all of the sudden his life is cut short because of a freak accident. (Makes me wanna check out the weird thing my tires do in the rain..). Every time that family wears those same clothes, walks down the hallways of that hospital again, drive in the rain, or look at the date February 15th, all they will see (or at least the wife) is the day he died. I know stopped wearing the jacket that I was wearing the day a friend of mine died.
But that is life. One day or another, we all have to watch people we know and love go.. The weird part is watching them go. As I sat there in the ER a few weeks ago with another patient, and again today with this one, I realized the one thing I haven't gotten used to is just the fact that I'm standing there watching another persons life, their memories, their dreams, their aspiration, their hopes, their fears, their loves, their regrets, their sorrows, their joys, their grief, their beliefs, all of it, end so abruptly, so uselessly, and so pathetically. The Universe simply weeds them without pity, without respect, without any care at all. To watch someone die in front of your eyes, to see the very life from them just fade, to watch their soul dissipate and reduce them to just a husk of dead and dying organic material, a simple piece of meat. It is so strange. That is the best I can describe it. It is so strange, and despite being one of the most human processes of all, it is so alien. Are we really just a collection of electric impulses that "feel" through chemical and hormonal imbalances? Is that our destiny? Or are we something more? Religion tells us a great many things. Carl Sagan poetically states that 'we are a way for the Cosmos to know itself', although that still doesn't work out for us as individuals..
I'm scared of dying, yes. But I don't think I'm scared of death itself. If my faith is based in truth, then I suppose I will be in a great place. If I'm wrong, then there is nothing to fear, I'll never even know I was wrong.
But last night, I dreamt that a couple people I know came back to the realm of the living. No, they weren't undead zombies, just 'back' to living. I remember asking them "What's out there? What happens after you die?". The conventional answer in movies/literature/etc would be some vague answer stating that "you can't know till you're there yourself", but in my dream, my undead friends gave me an answer in the form of a cruel, solid, definite, final "Nothing". "Nothing happens, there is nothing afterwards" they said. I fought the answer with more question and suggestion, but they simply just said "No man, death is it"
I'll tell you, that answer upset me so much, I actually woke up right there and then with this horrible heavy feeling in my chest. It was a mix of hopelessness, despair, and anger. But mostly fear that I've never felt before. Not on that magnitude. I didn't wake up screaming. It wasn't a nightmare, but I've never woken up from a dream feeling that disturbed. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever felt that upset during my normal waking hours either.
And I don't understand. Death is something I've thought about. I've ran from it, I've rejected it, I've grieved because of it. I've accepted it. The thought of BEING dead is something (I thought) I came to terms with.
Here's some depressing food for thought:
Everyone you see, every friend, every sibling, every teacher, every picture. They're all going to one day be DEAD, DEAD, DEAD. Go out and do what you've wanted, DAMN IT!
I need to stop watching people die in the ER.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
We are the Dollars and Cents, We are the Pounds and Pence
Sleep is the one thing I haven't been having much of..
I've been having disappointment. Regret. Headaches. Annoying people. Work. Stress. M&M's. Teddy grahams. Check engine indicator lights.
But not sleep.. I wish I hadn't been a cocky bastard and checked off the classes I did last spring. That plus responsibilities for UTV and the studio plus the extra hours I'm trying to get in at the hospital is just becoming this one, massive, annoying clot. And unfortunately that clot is blocking my sleep-time artery.
But, I'm just ranting. So, what's been up with you? Oh yeah? To be honest, I don't care anymore. I'm tired of hearing people's bitching about their lives. I'm not saying I have it any better or worse, and yes, it is hypocritical of me to point out their bitching, but hey, I'm just doing it on a blog no one will ever read. Not everyday at the restaurant when I'm trying to eat my damned sandwich, or in class when I'm trying to work, or in the car when I'm taking you somewhere. And as a matter of fact, I don't want to constantly hear you brag about your successes either. Yeah, I've always been the 'go-to' guy to tell shit to, but for once, would someone just shut up about themselves and just say "oh, what about you?" Fuck... Now I'm forced to vent on the damned internet with the attention-whores, social-phobes, and weird people..
I've been having disappointment. Regret. Headaches. Annoying people. Work. Stress. M&M's. Teddy grahams. Check engine indicator lights.
But not sleep.. I wish I hadn't been a cocky bastard and checked off the classes I did last spring. That plus responsibilities for UTV and the studio plus the extra hours I'm trying to get in at the hospital is just becoming this one, massive, annoying clot. And unfortunately that clot is blocking my sleep-time artery.
But, I'm just ranting. So, what's been up with you? Oh yeah? To be honest, I don't care anymore. I'm tired of hearing people's bitching about their lives. I'm not saying I have it any better or worse, and yes, it is hypocritical of me to point out their bitching, but hey, I'm just doing it on a blog no one will ever read. Not everyday at the restaurant when I'm trying to eat my damned sandwich, or in class when I'm trying to work, or in the car when I'm taking you somewhere. And as a matter of fact, I don't want to constantly hear you brag about your successes either. Yeah, I've always been the 'go-to' guy to tell shit to, but for once, would someone just shut up about themselves and just say "oh, what about you?" Fuck... Now I'm forced to vent on the damned internet with the attention-whores, social-phobes, and weird people..
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Give me heart and give me soul
I'm a bit of a hypocrite. I use to have a friend. More than friend really, but I don't talk to her much anymore..
Back when she was going through hard times, I used to tell her that it's unhealthy for one to bottle up all their emotions and thoughts up. "Venting is a natural thing, it helps us cope" I used to say to say to her.
And really, who likes to sit there with all their problems, thoughts, and worries shoved up inside of them? No one. It doesn't matter if you're worrying about paying the bills, or if you have a date for prom, or if you have cancer. I'd say that you lie if you say you don't feel the need to vent once in a while. Some take more traditional routes, like writing. Others express what they feel through music. Others push themselves at the gym or on the trail. But the most of us talk, whether it be to friends, family, counselor, teacher, therapist, or that random attentive person you met on the train.
And really, who likes to sit there with all their problems, thoughts, and worries shoved up inside of them? No one. It doesn't matter if you're worrying about paying the bills, or if you have a date for prom, or if you have cancer. I'd say that you lie if you say you don't feel the need to vent once in a while. Some take more traditional routes, like writing. Others express what they feel through music. Others push themselves at the gym or on the trail. But the most of us talk, whether it be to friends, family, counselor, teacher, therapist, or that random attentive person you met on the train.
"So, vent" I used to tell her. You keep all those feeling bottles up and they become prone to exploding in a brilliant champagne supernova in the sky. Come a couple years later, and I find my self bottling up everything. One can only post so many ambiguous Facebook status's hinting at the despair they feel. One can listen to OK Computer so many times to find something they can relate to. I needed to vent. Problem is, I don't know anyone that I could fully vent to about everything without feeling weird about it, or without facing consequences for it later. Or maybe I'm just uncomfortable with opening up to people in that manner. Who knows.
All I know is that my problems are stupid and pretentious compared to a child in Africa or the president of the United States, but that piece of knowledge doesn't help dull the 'bad feeling' no matter how much I try to convince my self otherwise.
So, I found twitter. It was awesome. There were hundreds of thousands of people constantly micro-blogging, or tweeting if you will, about everything and anything. It was like standing on top of the Empire State Building and yelling out all your secrets. Obviously, anyone could listen if they wanted to, but who would? In a city of millions of people with millions of problems, you voice just drowns out. I sort of liked it. I felt I was being upfront about the things i wanted to say, without having anyone actually have to know about them. Stupid faulty logic.. (people ended up reading my tweets and interrogating me about them).
Of course, after a while, Twitter made it to the big leagues, and everyone and their grandmother was soon tweeting their stupid catch-phrases and inside-joke quotes. It be be douchebaggery at it's finest to impose the deep, chaotic, insensible working and ideas of my mind upon those people. So I stopped the tweeting. At least the vent-blog-therapy-tweeting.
I wrote for a little while. Just would pick up a pen and write what ever came to hand. That felt good. Sometimes i would just lose awareness and this subconscious part of me would start writing. That got freaky. I shuddered at the thought of anyone reading that stuff, so I burnt it all. Don't go looking for it. You will die.
Music, specifically the guitar has been and remains a way for me to vent ever since I started to play it. Love it. It's the best thing I ever picked up. But again, with my severely limited musical knowledge, I can only do so much.
It didn't help that i always had all these thoughts and ideas floating in my head that just needed to escape, to be recorded, and kept safe. I knew i didn't want to write them, not on paper at least. And so we arrive here. I've been reading a couple blogs for a while know (most notably the work of Dr. Ifinding), so the idea of starting my own isn't something that was spontaneous or new. So here we are. Hopefully I'll keep this up.
I hope it can serve not only as a way for me to vent, but also to just record my thoughts and ideas, keep a way to track my progress, and eventually reflect.
Of course, after a while, Twitter made it to the big leagues, and everyone and their grandmother was soon tweeting their stupid catch-phrases and inside-joke quotes. It be be douchebaggery at it's finest to impose the deep, chaotic, insensible working and ideas of my mind upon those people. So I stopped the tweeting. At least the vent-blog-therapy-tweeting.
I wrote for a little while. Just would pick up a pen and write what ever came to hand. That felt good. Sometimes i would just lose awareness and this subconscious part of me would start writing. That got freaky. I shuddered at the thought of anyone reading that stuff, so I burnt it all. Don't go looking for it. You will die.
Music, specifically the guitar has been and remains a way for me to vent ever since I started to play it. Love it. It's the best thing I ever picked up. But again, with my severely limited musical knowledge, I can only do so much.
It didn't help that i always had all these thoughts and ideas floating in my head that just needed to escape, to be recorded, and kept safe. I knew i didn't want to write them, not on paper at least. And so we arrive here. I've been reading a couple blogs for a while know (most notably the work of Dr. Ifinding), so the idea of starting my own isn't something that was spontaneous or new. So here we are. Hopefully I'll keep this up.
I hope it can serve not only as a way for me to vent, but also to just record my thoughts and ideas, keep a way to track my progress, and eventually reflect.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Death and All His Friends
"No I don't want to battle from beginning to end, I don't want to cycle or recycle revenge, I don't want to follow Death and all of His friends"
I don't know what it is about that line, but I love it. It's from a song called Death and All His Friends by a little band that has more name recognition then I care to mention. It sucks that all of their most amazing work like this song don't receive the kind of recognition their more pop-ish song do.. They really have an amazing collection of work..
But I digress. That one line from that song was so profound, it tugged at some deeper sense of self and understanding in me. That line has stuck with me since I first heard it, becoming a sort of tacit motto of mine.
In the end, I feel it says 'Live and let live'. It's a rejection of the never ending cycle of violence, of contempt, of rejection, and of misunderstanding. It is sympathy and empathy for your fellow man. It's bare-bone humanity, pure, uncorrupted, and true.
And its all just idealism. There's nothing practical in it. I'm not very old, I haven't seen very much, and I understand very little. But I understand the world isn't black and white. There aren't always simple wrong and right choices, and you cannot trust people to make the right choices, because in the end, what is right is only relative to you and your interests.
Still, it doesn't hurt to cling to an ideal, it gives us something to strive for. But I talk non-sense. Utter non-sense.
Again, I'm barely even of voting age yet.
I don't know what it is about that line, but I love it. It's from a song called Death and All His Friends by a little band that has more name recognition then I care to mention. It sucks that all of their most amazing work like this song don't receive the kind of recognition their more pop-ish song do.. They really have an amazing collection of work..
But I digress. That one line from that song was so profound, it tugged at some deeper sense of self and understanding in me. That line has stuck with me since I first heard it, becoming a sort of tacit motto of mine.
In the end, I feel it says 'Live and let live'. It's a rejection of the never ending cycle of violence, of contempt, of rejection, and of misunderstanding. It is sympathy and empathy for your fellow man. It's bare-bone humanity, pure, uncorrupted, and true.
And its all just idealism. There's nothing practical in it. I'm not very old, I haven't seen very much, and I understand very little. But I understand the world isn't black and white. There aren't always simple wrong and right choices, and you cannot trust people to make the right choices, because in the end, what is right is only relative to you and your interests.
Still, it doesn't hurt to cling to an ideal, it gives us something to strive for. But I talk non-sense. Utter non-sense.
Again, I'm barely even of voting age yet.
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