I started another blog, the abyss. It is my second jump into the deepest and darkest of thoughts and expressions. I will, I hope to, I can't remember, I don't hear to well, I hear to much but it is all without the filters others have.
I can't was my early mantra because I would get so frustrated with all the inputs into my brain that I couldn't function even with the simplest of actions. Then I would say, "I can't!" People used to say things like of course you can, now try. They didn't know, I couldn't tell them and even if I did tell them, they weren't hearing what I said.
I continue to relive moments from my past because that is the way my brain works. My brain throws out memory bites of the past and that part of my recollection is as though it were a moment ago. On another note, I don't recollect what I read, what I watched, what you said, what I said. It is the way I am and I have been living with this way for at least 58 of my 63 years of age. I am trying to navigate around it because my condition causes me to blurt out inappropriate expressions from my past, appear not to be paying attention, distractions. I am bored here writing about this because I write about it over and over. I don't seem to make much head way with writing it down and moving on.
I'm planning on going to the gym tomorrow. I am starting slow and working into a routine. I have to go at actions slowly, work into them or I get fearful or bored or self conscious. Part of my on going issues are low self esteem from all the abuse I got as a kid mostly from my dad, from gym class and the punks who used to beat me up there. That is my old gym fear. And the coaches.
Now the gym is a completely personal experience. It is something I am doing for myself, to feel better and I do. I get the endorphins and they add to my confidence, my self esteem. Ah, you say, you are 63 and you should be over that. Those are all things we grow out of. I think there are people who don't grow out of a lot of things that happened in their past. We can replace the bad feelings with better feelings and those better feelings will shine over the old feelings and that is how we survive.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
365 or 366 days ago and onward from there
I must note, that if you read my writing on occasion you will notice that it is not very organized. I jump all around with it. I heard once that a real writer will organize what they intend to write, editing all in their heads before putting it to words in a document. I'm not like that at all and for a long time considered that I was not a real writer. Unpublished, barely considered, but a writer no less. What I am attempting to point out here is that although I am not an organized writer, I am not an organized anything. Not an organized mechanic either. This is what this is about, plus what happens because of circumstances of a person who is unorganized doing the best he can with what he has. I have gone bak and reviewed some of my other writings on this subject and it looks like I didn't give as many details about this situation.
On Dec. 30, 2011 I was trying to determine what was wrong with my van. It had died at the auto parts store and wouldn't start again. I couldn't get it going, so I called the two company and had it towed to the front of the house I lived in at the time. Not my house, if it was, I would have put it in the driveway.
I didn't do the things I should have to determine what was wrong with it but decided it was the fuel pump. I ordered a used one and it had to come from Salem. I proceeded to block the tires and jack the van up off the ground. At the time I only had two jack stands and decided that the back would be jacked up because the drain for the fuel tank was in the front area of that tank.
Having accomplished the jacking and putting stands under the support points I got the drain pan and proceeded to drain the nearly full tank of fuel from my van. This was not a very well planned project on my part obviously if I had a nearly full tank of gas. I had never attempted to do this particular job on any vehicle, but had the maintenance manual guiding me along.
I didn't make a tool list and bring all the tools I thought I would need on this job up from my basement room where they were living along with my cat and I. I had brought tools I thought might be needed, but overlooked some and hence made a couple of excursions back into my basement room to retrieve more. It had been raining out earlier and was on and off through out the day. Swell, rain, cold and laying down in the street under my precariously looking jacked up van draining gas and loosening holding straps and all. In order not to tramp through the house with wet feet I opened up the side entrance and used the back door that leads to the stairs that go to the basement.
As the fuel continued to drain into the containers I had lined up for that task I went to the house to make another pot of coffee. I went to the back door entrance and wiped my feet good on the rug I had there for that purpose. I made the pot of coffee and drank a cup. Then I went back out to the van and the flow of gas had stopped. It took me about 2 hours to drain all of that without spilling large quantities on the street. I inspected the tank and there was an extension to my ratchet wrench that I needed and I proceed to go back to the rear entrance and back to the basement tool box. I stepped inside the door, wiped off my feet and took 2 steps down the stair and then I lost my footing and there was a huge pain in my right knee! I described it to people as 15 on a scale of pain 1-10. This must have been the one of the worse pains I have ever felt. Time was suspended with me hanging in the air and then just as unexpectedly gravity to over and I was laying on my back on these hard concrete stairs with a huge pain in my right knee. When I was able to get back my senses other than the pain, I realized I was in trouble, big trouble!
I had to get myself upright and continue down the stairs. I had to find something to help me walk and found it as a bamboo staff that I had hanging around having found it on my school bus route. Then I had some assistance walking, but my knee was really painful. I got a couple of slats of plywood I had accumulated from projects and made a splint and wrapped these with duct tape on the outside of my pants to keep my knee supported. I had to go back up the stairs and that was extremely difficult and painful now having a useless right leg that was now immobilized by a splint. 9 steps to the top, slowly.
Once upstairs had to put all my tools into the van, lift my 60 pound floor jack into the van and generally clean up my mess. That took about an hour or so it seemed. I still had to figure out how I was going to get to the doctor. This was serious and needed some attention from medical professionals. I noticed my neighbor two doors away and hobbled over to him and asked him if I could get a ride to the clinic.
I got the ride and then a ride home from another friend and my landlord made a detailed incident report. He was very annoying taking an hour and a half to write down all that had taken place, trying to cover his ass for the situation, suggesting reasons for me slipping on the substandard stairs that we had discussions about in the past. He tried suggesting that I stepped in some gas and that I was at fault for the whole thing. I was just like in an auto accident, not admitting fault. He was grilling me and I told him a couple of times he was asking for to many details and working on to many assumptions. I should have just told him I'm sorry, I fell and the pain in my leg is tiring me out. You have the general picture of my situation. You see he is a manager in a production company and feels that he had to get all the details, get me to admit to some fault perhaps so if I sued him, he would have my statement from the day of the accident to refute anything I might say later down the road.
I had friends who advised me to sue his ass, take his house etc. I am not like that, I was just hoping his home owners insurance would cover my medical expenses and my loss of work wages. I found out later the insurance doesn't cover that. He would need to have another policy, a business policy because he was renting to me. Of course, it was essentially an illegal rental situation and I was shit out of luck. He did admit 50% responsibility, but in his way of thinking my 50% cancelled out his 50% and he didn't owe me shit. I'm sure his friends and family are telling him he is lucky that I was so dumb for not suing his ass. I already told him at some point that is not who I am. It is important to me to be who I say I am and not change my mind. I did go to a mediation service who essentially told me I would have to get him to come in too. I decided, since I was still living there that I didn't want to make it more uncomfortable by getting him to take time away from his time to haggle over him compensating me for some of my costs. That was what was suggested by my sisters. After hobbling around town seeing people I decided it was more trouble than it was worth in stress.
Today, on the last day of a rather tough year, I have regained about 85-90% of the use of my right knee. It will likely never be 100% of what it was, but I am now walking with more stability than I had up until about July-Sept. of this year.
My living situation changed back in Oct. when I moved back to SE Portland renting space from some friends. It is rough, but way better than I was doing a for the previous 2.5 years. Onward to the next year, another birthday. Going to be 63 in 30 days, oh woot! I hope that the President will address climate change and end all war that USA is involved in! No more drone strikes, no more polluting fossil fuel companies, no more rain forest devastation! No more plutocracy, back to democracy!
On Dec. 30, 2011 I was trying to determine what was wrong with my van. It had died at the auto parts store and wouldn't start again. I couldn't get it going, so I called the two company and had it towed to the front of the house I lived in at the time. Not my house, if it was, I would have put it in the driveway.
I didn't do the things I should have to determine what was wrong with it but decided it was the fuel pump. I ordered a used one and it had to come from Salem. I proceeded to block the tires and jack the van up off the ground. At the time I only had two jack stands and decided that the back would be jacked up because the drain for the fuel tank was in the front area of that tank.
Having accomplished the jacking and putting stands under the support points I got the drain pan and proceeded to drain the nearly full tank of fuel from my van. This was not a very well planned project on my part obviously if I had a nearly full tank of gas. I had never attempted to do this particular job on any vehicle, but had the maintenance manual guiding me along.
I didn't make a tool list and bring all the tools I thought I would need on this job up from my basement room where they were living along with my cat and I. I had brought tools I thought might be needed, but overlooked some and hence made a couple of excursions back into my basement room to retrieve more. It had been raining out earlier and was on and off through out the day. Swell, rain, cold and laying down in the street under my precariously looking jacked up van draining gas and loosening holding straps and all. In order not to tramp through the house with wet feet I opened up the side entrance and used the back door that leads to the stairs that go to the basement.
As the fuel continued to drain into the containers I had lined up for that task I went to the house to make another pot of coffee. I went to the back door entrance and wiped my feet good on the rug I had there for that purpose. I made the pot of coffee and drank a cup. Then I went back out to the van and the flow of gas had stopped. It took me about 2 hours to drain all of that without spilling large quantities on the street. I inspected the tank and there was an extension to my ratchet wrench that I needed and I proceed to go back to the rear entrance and back to the basement tool box. I stepped inside the door, wiped off my feet and took 2 steps down the stair and then I lost my footing and there was a huge pain in my right knee! I described it to people as 15 on a scale of pain 1-10. This must have been the one of the worse pains I have ever felt. Time was suspended with me hanging in the air and then just as unexpectedly gravity to over and I was laying on my back on these hard concrete stairs with a huge pain in my right knee. When I was able to get back my senses other than the pain, I realized I was in trouble, big trouble!
I had to get myself upright and continue down the stairs. I had to find something to help me walk and found it as a bamboo staff that I had hanging around having found it on my school bus route. Then I had some assistance walking, but my knee was really painful. I got a couple of slats of plywood I had accumulated from projects and made a splint and wrapped these with duct tape on the outside of my pants to keep my knee supported. I had to go back up the stairs and that was extremely difficult and painful now having a useless right leg that was now immobilized by a splint. 9 steps to the top, slowly.
Once upstairs had to put all my tools into the van, lift my 60 pound floor jack into the van and generally clean up my mess. That took about an hour or so it seemed. I still had to figure out how I was going to get to the doctor. This was serious and needed some attention from medical professionals. I noticed my neighbor two doors away and hobbled over to him and asked him if I could get a ride to the clinic.
I got the ride and then a ride home from another friend and my landlord made a detailed incident report. He was very annoying taking an hour and a half to write down all that had taken place, trying to cover his ass for the situation, suggesting reasons for me slipping on the substandard stairs that we had discussions about in the past. He tried suggesting that I stepped in some gas and that I was at fault for the whole thing. I was just like in an auto accident, not admitting fault. He was grilling me and I told him a couple of times he was asking for to many details and working on to many assumptions. I should have just told him I'm sorry, I fell and the pain in my leg is tiring me out. You have the general picture of my situation. You see he is a manager in a production company and feels that he had to get all the details, get me to admit to some fault perhaps so if I sued him, he would have my statement from the day of the accident to refute anything I might say later down the road.
I had friends who advised me to sue his ass, take his house etc. I am not like that, I was just hoping his home owners insurance would cover my medical expenses and my loss of work wages. I found out later the insurance doesn't cover that. He would need to have another policy, a business policy because he was renting to me. Of course, it was essentially an illegal rental situation and I was shit out of luck. He did admit 50% responsibility, but in his way of thinking my 50% cancelled out his 50% and he didn't owe me shit. I'm sure his friends and family are telling him he is lucky that I was so dumb for not suing his ass. I already told him at some point that is not who I am. It is important to me to be who I say I am and not change my mind. I did go to a mediation service who essentially told me I would have to get him to come in too. I decided, since I was still living there that I didn't want to make it more uncomfortable by getting him to take time away from his time to haggle over him compensating me for some of my costs. That was what was suggested by my sisters. After hobbling around town seeing people I decided it was more trouble than it was worth in stress.
Today, on the last day of a rather tough year, I have regained about 85-90% of the use of my right knee. It will likely never be 100% of what it was, but I am now walking with more stability than I had up until about July-Sept. of this year.
My living situation changed back in Oct. when I moved back to SE Portland renting space from some friends. It is rough, but way better than I was doing a for the previous 2.5 years. Onward to the next year, another birthday. Going to be 63 in 30 days, oh woot! I hope that the President will address climate change and end all war that USA is involved in! No more drone strikes, no more polluting fossil fuel companies, no more rain forest devastation! No more plutocracy, back to democracy!
Sunday, November 11, 2012
This might just be to personal, but so what?
I'm sure I've been in love in the past. In the not to distant past as well. I've never known how to qualify love, having not understood exactly what it was. One of the age old questions is how to define love. Those who are in love, fallen or grown into it don't seem to find the need to have it defined. Those of us who are or may not have been and lost it seem to keep seeking it out perhaps. Some of us don't.
Some of us just remain isolated not know that the love has always been in our hearts. It was put there before we were born. Being born is a shocking experience for many of us and we lose track for a while. Some of us grow up into households that don't know about love and ours is pushed way down. Some of us are nurtured and we know what love is.
Sharing love is the tough part I believe. I am sure I was in love in my 20's with a woman who shall remain anonymous. At least, I thought it was love. But how could it have been, when she just thought of me as a friend. I was infatuated for sure. I remember calling out her name when I thought I was going to die the second time.
I made a vow when I was 12 to never get married and have children and kept true to that vow. Maybe I cursed myself and that is part of why I never did. I never felt responsible enough to barely care for myself, let alone another person or two. I have always felt immature and as though my peers were growing up and I was still 12 years old, except my body was aging, but my mind didn't feel older. When I was around people my age or a little older, I had no confidence and that really was part of the problem, then the lack of focus was a huge issue and it was compounded by drinking. But the worst part was my confusion and chaos that circulated in my head.
My mind is still giving me that same old story, but it has aged, now it is thinking like I should have been thinking at 32. I am 62 and here is what I wrote about that the other day on a napkin no less:
It is obvious to others from my grey beard, wrinkles and age spots, I am an old guy. It only became obvious to me when I turned 60 & 2. Years later and still resisting age in my mind. This is probably something we all experience. I am no different in that respect. Of course, who can say what my chances of companionship are, because that is really all I am after for the most part. I am not really looking for it. My thing is to become infatuated with someone who is not available either by distance or emotionally or something. Infatuation, imagination something else we all share. And can someone at my age actually find a person who is attractive to more than my retirement account? That is an issue. Can we just be friends, without fear of becoming to close or to distant? Can we let the guard that surrounds our hearts down a little to actually take a risk.
You see my 32 year old brain doesn't really look closely at me and when I go shopping for instance and a young woman smiles at me, it is my 32 year old who is flattered and I am now learning that she could be smiling because I am an aging old guy who might have once been 32 but I am not going to ask her out or for her phone #. That happened yesterday and I discussed it with my male friend who was shopping with me. I said she could have been smiling for the stated previous reasons and because she saw my long hair and that I was with someone that I am not just a boring old guy, but one who has been pushing against the system for longer than she has been on the planet. I am not interested in a woman who is half my age. I have nothing to prove nor the retirement account to put on a flashy front. I am just a guy who never figured out until the last 20 or so years what my relationship with the rest of the world is supposed to be like.
Some of us just remain isolated not know that the love has always been in our hearts. It was put there before we were born. Being born is a shocking experience for many of us and we lose track for a while. Some of us grow up into households that don't know about love and ours is pushed way down. Some of us are nurtured and we know what love is.
Sharing love is the tough part I believe. I am sure I was in love in my 20's with a woman who shall remain anonymous. At least, I thought it was love. But how could it have been, when she just thought of me as a friend. I was infatuated for sure. I remember calling out her name when I thought I was going to die the second time.
I made a vow when I was 12 to never get married and have children and kept true to that vow. Maybe I cursed myself and that is part of why I never did. I never felt responsible enough to barely care for myself, let alone another person or two. I have always felt immature and as though my peers were growing up and I was still 12 years old, except my body was aging, but my mind didn't feel older. When I was around people my age or a little older, I had no confidence and that really was part of the problem, then the lack of focus was a huge issue and it was compounded by drinking. But the worst part was my confusion and chaos that circulated in my head.
My mind is still giving me that same old story, but it has aged, now it is thinking like I should have been thinking at 32. I am 62 and here is what I wrote about that the other day on a napkin no less:
It is obvious to others from my grey beard, wrinkles and age spots, I am an old guy. It only became obvious to me when I turned 60 & 2. Years later and still resisting age in my mind. This is probably something we all experience. I am no different in that respect. Of course, who can say what my chances of companionship are, because that is really all I am after for the most part. I am not really looking for it. My thing is to become infatuated with someone who is not available either by distance or emotionally or something. Infatuation, imagination something else we all share. And can someone at my age actually find a person who is attractive to more than my retirement account? That is an issue. Can we just be friends, without fear of becoming to close or to distant? Can we let the guard that surrounds our hearts down a little to actually take a risk.
You see my 32 year old brain doesn't really look closely at me and when I go shopping for instance and a young woman smiles at me, it is my 32 year old who is flattered and I am now learning that she could be smiling because I am an aging old guy who might have once been 32 but I am not going to ask her out or for her phone #. That happened yesterday and I discussed it with my male friend who was shopping with me. I said she could have been smiling for the stated previous reasons and because she saw my long hair and that I was with someone that I am not just a boring old guy, but one who has been pushing against the system for longer than she has been on the planet. I am not interested in a woman who is half my age. I have nothing to prove nor the retirement account to put on a flashy front. I am just a guy who never figured out until the last 20 or so years what my relationship with the rest of the world is supposed to be like.
This is actually something I wrote to a woman I was dating back in 2001
(I met this woman through on line dating service. We dated, that is to say, we had phone conversations, met for dinners and had conversations. That is as far as it went. We would meet in Petaluma which was about 1/2 the way between where we both lived. I think we stopped because of the distance.)
Woman of the universe, strong, vibrant, full of energy and love. You are a scintillating star. I've been attracted by your energy. I can feel the heat that emanates from the burning fires in your heart, the center of your essence. I have been traveling for eons through the vastness of space, cool crystals of frozen water, a shooting star, explosive with a twinkling brilliance. I gather my energy from the surrounding space. In this time and existence, I hope we can both grow in strength and spirit and benefit from the knowing existence of each other.
Woman of the universe, strong, vibrant, full of energy and love. You are a scintillating star. I've been attracted by your energy. I can feel the heat that emanates from the burning fires in your heart, the center of your essence. I have been traveling for eons through the vastness of space, cool crystals of frozen water, a shooting star, explosive with a twinkling brilliance. I gather my energy from the surrounding space. In this time and existence, I hope we can both grow in strength and spirit and benefit from the knowing existence of each other.
11-09-2012 (My Sister's 54th Birthday)
This is not about my sister MCC though, just random ideas, thoughts and it happens to be today, her birthday.
Probably a few months ago I said I was going to stop washing my hair with shampoo or perhaps not washing it altogether. Well, I have been washing it with water only and then once in a while, when it feels right, use conditioner on it. It is working out well. I mean, why use shampoo that strips ones hair of all it's natural qualities generated by our bodies that are better balanced to handle our hair issues?
I was thinking about what our relatives of not so long ago and how they washed their hair without all the modern marvels that are now available to us through consumerism and advertising by those who are pulling on our strings? How indeed? Some of the daily chores of being a human are likely lost to those of us who are walking similar paths. There are plenty of lessons I did not hear or ask questions about when growing up. Plenty of practical questions that went unasked and unanswered!
That was short, I have just revisited and reread it. Can't add much more should send it on it's way into cyber-publication. Today is 11/11/12
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Changed this post to more ramblings.....and the continuing Chaos.
I used to just write whatever I was thinking, still do sometimes. Then some said why do you write that way and I had to look it up. I have to look up almost everything many times. It took me 30 years to figure out the keys to learning the difference between using the waxing and the waning moon. Waxing means it is getting bigger, like applying wax to your table, you increase the shine and protection, putting it on. Waning is the opposite and therefore it is getting smaller, dimmer, less shiny. It took me 30 years to figure that out. It took me into my 60's to know the kind of writing I do. I didn't learn the types of writing in the writing classes I took back in the 1990's. Of course, I just wrote, read a couple fo books and wrote. The 40 year old in classes with very young people. I am attempting to use html language again to post this link to wikipedia. Let's see if it works.
Stream_of_consciousness_(narrative_mode)< /a>
Well, it didn't work and I could get all hung up on trying to make it right, but my link will get you to wikipedia and then you can enter stream of consciousness into the search field. With this partial entry, it is almost a reflection of how I think, which is what I have been struggling with all my life. I struggle with my thinking because it is partially complete and I am left with a lot of dead ends, like incomplete sentences. When I don't think about what I am writing, which was my initial writing technique I have a lot of incomplete or run on sentences. It is tapping into my process. It is why I took touch typing so many years ago, because I couldn't write fast enough to get all my thoughts out. Driven by frustration and desperation, I took typing so that I could write more effectively for myself. Sometimes it seems to me or has seemed to me in the past that if I can just purge myself of all these transient thoughts I could think more clearly. That is not what turned out to be the case. Now, I feel less motivated to write, but have to do what most writers do, take breaks. I read once and it kind pissed me off that good writers will compose the whole book in their head, organize it and then write it. Pissed me off, because I very little ability to gather my thoughts and put them in order. Sometimes I tell people the inside of my van which if more often than not unorganized, a pigs stye sans the mud is a direct reflection of the inside of my brain.
Also, jumping from one topic to another, a symptom of my disjointed thinking. The chaos and confusion is a reoccurring theme in my writing because it has played a main part in my inabilities to communicate effectively throughout my life.
Here's how it is with me. I'm 62 years old and when I was growing up my thinking was damaged. I dont' know when it was damaged, perhaps in the forming of my brain, something went arye When adults tried to fit me into their way of thinking and I couldn't do it, I would say I can't do it. Then they would say sure you can, just apply yourself, I would try again and fail and say I can't do it. Can't do it was my growing up mantra. By refusing to further attempt to perform whatever task they requested of me, I was put in the trouble maker box. He can't do it because he choses not to attempt it. The thing is, I couldn't do it because I couldn't visualize or imagine it! Their inability to see my frustration and road blocks was either a system wide failure such as funding or training or whatever agenda the school system operated under at the time.
My ability to conceptualize is almost non existant. Today, I am attempting to reconstruct my bed frame, one that I designed and built in place at the North Portland residence initially, deconstructed it and transported it to SE and have attempted to reassemble it. I marked all the pieces and of course, marked them over markings from initial assembly. Good God, no wonder I struggled so with it, but that is not all, I just struggled with it. I did take it with a sense of oh well, before I got to upset with my own inabilities. I took it into my room to finish it and found part of my problem was left outside because of uneven ground. I was using shims, but a more level surface helped me finish my task.
My struggles, because I process how I think it should go, but when I execute, something goes wrong and I don't pay as close attention as I should and it doesn't go together right! I remember similar times when working on various car projects, taking something apart and not getting the whole picture and putting it back together wrong and then having to do it again and again, until at some point the switch goes off in my head and Oh, now I see! All this takes a heavy toll on my confidence! I don't have the confidence that others have and am hesitant to jump into a large project on my own. This is important to me because I am considering and planning a large project. Probably the largest project of my life other than going back to school and earning my aviation maintenance licenses! That was a project I could attempt because it was already set up, structured in a community college setting. That was a huge undertaking for me, going back to school and it started shortly after I got cleaned up. I have issues around school from the past, but those melted away, but not at first. With my aviation licenses I really wanted them. I wasn't apparently going to let anything stand in my way. When I was in my second year, my truck was stolen and I got on the bicycle and started riding to school being about 3 miles away and work about 4 miles. I was going to school and working like so many of my peers and at 48 years old. See how I got distracted by that and wandered off. That happens all the time.
It is similar today and although I have been able to identify my behavior challenges, I still practice the wrong ones. When I worked on the line on airplanes others could see some of my challenges and gave me jobs that didn't require to much visualization.
But what I am talking about here. What indeed, ramblings. I got back here after reading about Neil Young's latest Album a 2 CD set in the Rolling Stone #1169. The title is Fuzz and Fury on Planet Neil. In the article Neil says he writes songs "to make sense of my inner rage." This simple statement struck a chord with me. My inner anger is deep seated and as I stated before somewhere, may have actually published it here. I have always had an affinity for Neil and will probably purchase something of this latest two albums since they were done with his often used band Crazy Horse. I am wrapping this up because I can always add, but I must move it along. I have several drafts that I keep getting distracted away from and the words keep coming. I need to do tasks in the real world with one of my pals.
Stream_of_consciousness_(narrative_mode)< /a>
Well, it didn't work and I could get all hung up on trying to make it right, but my link will get you to wikipedia and then you can enter stream of consciousness into the search field. With this partial entry, it is almost a reflection of how I think, which is what I have been struggling with all my life. I struggle with my thinking because it is partially complete and I am left with a lot of dead ends, like incomplete sentences. When I don't think about what I am writing, which was my initial writing technique I have a lot of incomplete or run on sentences. It is tapping into my process. It is why I took touch typing so many years ago, because I couldn't write fast enough to get all my thoughts out. Driven by frustration and desperation, I took typing so that I could write more effectively for myself. Sometimes it seems to me or has seemed to me in the past that if I can just purge myself of all these transient thoughts I could think more clearly. That is not what turned out to be the case. Now, I feel less motivated to write, but have to do what most writers do, take breaks. I read once and it kind pissed me off that good writers will compose the whole book in their head, organize it and then write it. Pissed me off, because I very little ability to gather my thoughts and put them in order. Sometimes I tell people the inside of my van which if more often than not unorganized, a pigs stye sans the mud is a direct reflection of the inside of my brain.
Also, jumping from one topic to another, a symptom of my disjointed thinking. The chaos and confusion is a reoccurring theme in my writing because it has played a main part in my inabilities to communicate effectively throughout my life.
Here's how it is with me. I'm 62 years old and when I was growing up my thinking was damaged. I dont' know when it was damaged, perhaps in the forming of my brain, something went arye When adults tried to fit me into their way of thinking and I couldn't do it, I would say I can't do it. Then they would say sure you can, just apply yourself, I would try again and fail and say I can't do it. Can't do it was my growing up mantra. By refusing to further attempt to perform whatever task they requested of me, I was put in the trouble maker box. He can't do it because he choses not to attempt it. The thing is, I couldn't do it because I couldn't visualize or imagine it! Their inability to see my frustration and road blocks was either a system wide failure such as funding or training or whatever agenda the school system operated under at the time.
My ability to conceptualize is almost non existant. Today, I am attempting to reconstruct my bed frame, one that I designed and built in place at the North Portland residence initially, deconstructed it and transported it to SE and have attempted to reassemble it. I marked all the pieces and of course, marked them over markings from initial assembly. Good God, no wonder I struggled so with it, but that is not all, I just struggled with it. I did take it with a sense of oh well, before I got to upset with my own inabilities. I took it into my room to finish it and found part of my problem was left outside because of uneven ground. I was using shims, but a more level surface helped me finish my task.
My struggles, because I process how I think it should go, but when I execute, something goes wrong and I don't pay as close attention as I should and it doesn't go together right! I remember similar times when working on various car projects, taking something apart and not getting the whole picture and putting it back together wrong and then having to do it again and again, until at some point the switch goes off in my head and Oh, now I see! All this takes a heavy toll on my confidence! I don't have the confidence that others have and am hesitant to jump into a large project on my own. This is important to me because I am considering and planning a large project. Probably the largest project of my life other than going back to school and earning my aviation maintenance licenses! That was a project I could attempt because it was already set up, structured in a community college setting. That was a huge undertaking for me, going back to school and it started shortly after I got cleaned up. I have issues around school from the past, but those melted away, but not at first. With my aviation licenses I really wanted them. I wasn't apparently going to let anything stand in my way. When I was in my second year, my truck was stolen and I got on the bicycle and started riding to school being about 3 miles away and work about 4 miles. I was going to school and working like so many of my peers and at 48 years old. See how I got distracted by that and wandered off. That happens all the time.
It is similar today and although I have been able to identify my behavior challenges, I still practice the wrong ones. When I worked on the line on airplanes others could see some of my challenges and gave me jobs that didn't require to much visualization.
But what I am talking about here. What indeed, ramblings. I got back here after reading about Neil Young's latest Album a 2 CD set in the Rolling Stone #1169. The title is Fuzz and Fury on Planet Neil. In the article Neil says he writes songs "to make sense of my inner rage." This simple statement struck a chord with me. My inner anger is deep seated and as I stated before somewhere, may have actually published it here. I have always had an affinity for Neil and will probably purchase something of this latest two albums since they were done with his often used band Crazy Horse. I am wrapping this up because I can always add, but I must move it along. I have several drafts that I keep getting distracted away from and the words keep coming. I need to do tasks in the real world with one of my pals.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
trying to get the full and complete picture or the whole ball of wax!
It is Sunday morning and I have been listening to and viewing You Tube video's from Carl Perkins 25 year reunion with friends to Johnny Cash that was shown on BBC 2004, wow!
What do I have in common with musicians other than being human beings and having a set number of days from birth to death. I look at where I have been in confusion all my life, up to and including now. The past was always confusion and I had no idea really of the complete picture. I had glimpses of being 70 years old and flashing back and forth from then to the past in my 20's. I often felt I was telling someone the story of my life and my reality was 70 and the past was like a dream. My past was a dream and a nightmare.
I struggled just like many young people struggle and I didn't find the key to the complete picture until I stepped into the idea that I could get an idea and follow it. The idea was to appreciate what I have now and how to be grateful, to turn away from the negative impulses I had been living with for so long. Each of us must find balance and it takes some of us longer than others, that's for sure. I am still out of balance but a lot closer to feeling equal with all part of my personality and parts of my life. I am still living in confusion and chaos, because it just doesn't go away. I have learned I can take other actions than the out of balance ones.
I don't warm up to everyone and they don't warm up to me, but I am still pursuing the notion that I was taught long ago by my parents, not to judge a book by it's cover. I am doing that by pushing against the expected societal norms with the initial actions that I used long, long ago. I am growing my hair, now for a little over 3 years, from a very short buzz cut to now much longer. I was imagining growing it for 5 years. Often in the past someone would say something to me and I would get pissed off. Someone would say you are a throw back to the past with that long hair and I would resort to self destructive behavior and cut my hair thinking I would show them, but that would only affect me deeply. That impulsive behavior was often my down fall.
I have learned now after driving a school bus for 5 + years to temper my impulsive nature a little. I have been learning through this important driving that which is associated with getting some patience. I believe that patience is a quality that is talked about in our society, but is not given that much weight. We are living and have been living in a society that tells us quick, quick, hurry up and you can have it now. It is a societal norm, but a false image that has lead many of us down the wrong path. It has taken me a long time to figure out what I want to do with my life. It has taken me many inventories and assessments of what have I done the most of in my life. The answer has been to write. I have done writing the most of anything. I discovered this a couple of years ago, but have not been able to organize my writing to any great extent. I was thinking this morning again what I need more to do is transcribe my past writings and put them into the electronic media and go from there. This is almost more of my journal of what I want to do, but it is all connected.
All of this is part of my inability to stay focused on my own time. That time without the structure of a project that has an important role in my life. I am planning a large project, but have some smaller ones that have lost my attention and I need to get back on track. And so it goes. I am nearing that time when I may live to 70 years of age. Just 8 years away and what will I have accomplished? That is a question many of us ask ourselves as we come closer to the ends of our lives than the beginnings.
What do I have in common with musicians other than being human beings and having a set number of days from birth to death. I look at where I have been in confusion all my life, up to and including now. The past was always confusion and I had no idea really of the complete picture. I had glimpses of being 70 years old and flashing back and forth from then to the past in my 20's. I often felt I was telling someone the story of my life and my reality was 70 and the past was like a dream. My past was a dream and a nightmare.
I struggled just like many young people struggle and I didn't find the key to the complete picture until I stepped into the idea that I could get an idea and follow it. The idea was to appreciate what I have now and how to be grateful, to turn away from the negative impulses I had been living with for so long. Each of us must find balance and it takes some of us longer than others, that's for sure. I am still out of balance but a lot closer to feeling equal with all part of my personality and parts of my life. I am still living in confusion and chaos, because it just doesn't go away. I have learned I can take other actions than the out of balance ones.
I don't warm up to everyone and they don't warm up to me, but I am still pursuing the notion that I was taught long ago by my parents, not to judge a book by it's cover. I am doing that by pushing against the expected societal norms with the initial actions that I used long, long ago. I am growing my hair, now for a little over 3 years, from a very short buzz cut to now much longer. I was imagining growing it for 5 years. Often in the past someone would say something to me and I would get pissed off. Someone would say you are a throw back to the past with that long hair and I would resort to self destructive behavior and cut my hair thinking I would show them, but that would only affect me deeply. That impulsive behavior was often my down fall.
I have learned now after driving a school bus for 5 + years to temper my impulsive nature a little. I have been learning through this important driving that which is associated with getting some patience. I believe that patience is a quality that is talked about in our society, but is not given that much weight. We are living and have been living in a society that tells us quick, quick, hurry up and you can have it now. It is a societal norm, but a false image that has lead many of us down the wrong path. It has taken me a long time to figure out what I want to do with my life. It has taken me many inventories and assessments of what have I done the most of in my life. The answer has been to write. I have done writing the most of anything. I discovered this a couple of years ago, but have not been able to organize my writing to any great extent. I was thinking this morning again what I need more to do is transcribe my past writings and put them into the electronic media and go from there. This is almost more of my journal of what I want to do, but it is all connected.
All of this is part of my inability to stay focused on my own time. That time without the structure of a project that has an important role in my life. I am planning a large project, but have some smaller ones that have lost my attention and I need to get back on track. And so it goes. I am nearing that time when I may live to 70 years of age. Just 8 years away and what will I have accomplished? That is a question many of us ask ourselves as we come closer to the ends of our lives than the beginnings.
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