i prefer private bathrooms

i prefer bathrooms in which i can close the door and even lock it and know that nobody is coming in after me. i like to stand a comfortable distance from the urinal for once. i like to not bother with buttons and belts and zippers and just pull my pants fully down to mid-thigh and take aim. sometimes i like to actually sing a little.

people like us. human like me

my ears receive information and it's processed.

tragedy breaks. on the other side of my computer screen somewhere.

then it hits me. they're people like us. human like me.

suddenly my heart feels heavy in my chest. my eyes feel hot and my stomach tightens.

winter storm warning

the rain rolls down the gutters and street rims. i couldn't stop it if i tried.
it would build up behind my tired eyes until it spilled around the edges.
what can i do but watch it glide effortlessly by.
feel it swish and swirl around my irregular eddies.

i'm not the only one

sometimes i wake up from a nightmare and consciously realize i was only dreaming. i usually feel relieved.
sometimes i wake up from a really good dream only to realize it was only a dream. then i think, "well, shucks."

today i woke up from a nightmare... and realized it wasn't just a dream.

wordsmith

i'd like a block of cheese.
and a 12 ounce cup of cream

what are apologies even worth? only words, they can't change what's been done. words can cause wounds, but can they heal them? some people believe words can change the world - words have transformational power, they claim. under other circumstances words can be empty and meaningless. what's really going on here? why can't words just make everything better. i'm better with words than i am with life.

"if i had a magic wand of my own...
i would wave it over me and over you
and over all this crazy world
and make it right."

"oh, there's so much i'd change
if i could take the easy way."

in my weaker moments i want the easy way. but i guess the easy way leaves me empty and lonely. some things take time and process. it's difficult to respect the process. i don't want to study hard in these boring classes. i want to jump right to being a good physical therapist. i don't want to put in the time. i want to get right to the end goal.

i struggle against this perspective. what if life doesn't exist at the end of the road at some point of arrival? what if life is here and now, in the process? what if life is the process (the process is life)?

for now words will be what they will be. empty or meaningful. and i will continue not understanding. the need for apologies will continue to rise from me. and i will continue not understanding.

thank god i don't have a magic wand. life would be so void of struggle. and struggle refines/defines/shapes me.

i would like a sliver of cheese.
and 3/4 of an ounce of cream

math

there are certain laws in life. they're clear. they're reliable.
1+3=4
F=mA


tomorrow when i wake up these laws will still be truths. just as much as they were when i laid my head down to sleep.
this is true, and i can count on this.
yes. i can.

i found

i found myself skitting around between the living room, dining room and hallways chasing all the children i had produced. they were running in, around, out, and back in again. they would not stop running. i yelled, i grabbed, i spoke softly, i tried offering them treats. they continued sprinting. stress began to find a place in my person. tensing muscles, tightening chest, panicky mind.

we shared a...face

sometimes i want to loudly take credit for everything i can take credit for. just shout it out in people's faces. "you're welcome!" i just envision myself running around to all these people - "you know that "thing" you value so much? yeah, you're welcome." and then to another person, "hey you like that extra point on the quiz? you're welcome." 

nobody is saying thank you to me though. so then i'd come off as an angry little man with a mustache who feels taken for granted.

once in high school an off campus student spoke up in class about how much they needed home leave to come. i almost lost it. they thought they needed home leave?? "they go home every f-ing day!" i thought. if it weren't for us dorm students, living in prison every day of our lives, they wouldn't even have five day weekend every month or whatever it was. but no one was thanking me for putting the time in.

...

wow. maybe i am an angry little man with a mustache...

full heart (large and full)

is there nothing a full heart will not do for the ones that fill it?
i received a photo this morning of my precious niece that filled my heart so full i had to shut my eyes to hold in all the love i felt. still some of it leaked out through my eyelids, but it was just some of the overflow. my full heart swelled to fill my whole core and then my whole person and i swear to you, in that moment i would have LAID DOWN MY LIFE for her!
i felt whole.
THIS is it. this is what i live for. it's why i wake up in the morning.
i wonder if this is how jesus constantly lived his life - so filled up with love he could scarcely keep it in.
i want to cultivate this way of living life. i want to plant my tree next to this river and live.

let my heart be deeply moved and let not my doubts and fears inhibit me.

"lord, put love in my heart,
and stop short of ripping apart."
       -   aaron roche

Fitter Happier -Radiohead

more productive
comfortable
not drinking too much
regular exercise at the gym (3 days a week)
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries
at ease
eating well (no more microwave dinners and saturated fats)
a patient better driver
a safer car (baby smiling in back seat)
sleeping well (no bad dreams)
no paranoia
careful to all animals (never washing spiders down the plughole)
keep in contact with old friends (enjoy a drink now and then)
will frequently check credit at (moral) bank (hole in wall)
favours for favours
fond but not in love
charity standing orders
on sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants)
car wash (also on sundays)
no longer afraid of the dark
or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate
nothing so childish
at a better pace
slower and more calculated
no chance of escape
now self-employed
concerned (but powerless)
an empowered and informed member of society (pragmatism not idealism)
will not cry in public
less chance of illness
tires that grip in the wet (shot of baby strapped in back seat)
a good memory
still cries at a good film
still kisses with saliva
no longer empty and frantic
like a cat
tied to a stick
that's driven into
frozen winter shit (the ability to laugh at weakness)
calm
fitter, healthier and more productive
a pig
in a cage
on antibiotics

addendum

unfortunately, you can't always choose.
and sometimes even the drunkard gets injured.

drinking and driving

it's been said that in the case of an automotive collision involving a drunk driver, it's always the young sober valedictorian girl wearing her seatbelt who has the worst outcome. and the drunk driver escapes with minor scrapes and bruises.

you might think that's the universe's arbitrary way of teaching that poor young girl that life is just not fair. but i would disagree. it's all about choices.

who would you rather be? the sober responsible one getting crippled by the drunk, or the drunk guy who walks away relatively unscathed? i mean, leaving the burden of guilt aside, the choice is easy! if i'm gonna be in an accident involving drunk driving... i'd like to be that drunk driver. thanks.

app.

darkness has much to show

silence has much to say

if i could just listen

if i can open myself to it

life is beautiful

swimming/life

breathe deeply
be disciplined
focus
find a rhythm
let it flow
relax
stop fighting
feel that rhythm
let it flow
relax
enjoy

all the sounds of earth are like music

i noticed the songs of the birds outside my window have begun to change.
i used to hear only a shrill chirp that bordered on a screech. sometimes as soon as 3 am. lately i've heard a much more melodic and cheerful song (each song being improvised on the spot and unique from every song before and every song that will ever be sung.)
i like to say the birds have begun to change their songs.
alex pointed out that it's probably the bird population that's changing.
i still like to say the birds have begun to change their songs. collectively. like a choir when the altos take the melody from the sopranos.

dishes

the other day, i was washing the dishes thinking to myself, "why don't roommates do dishes?" then "what if i was roommates with my clone who was taking different classes and stuff? who would do more dishes?" then i thought, "why is oatmeal so sticky?"

the peeps and the dude

one time a few peeps were trying to earn some money so they found this farmer with a bunch of work on his hands and struck a deal. the farmer was like, "hey, here's the deal, if you work for me today, i'll give you each $200 for the days work."
the peeps said, "sounds good farmer man"
so they worked. the changed irrigation lines, built two fences, stacked close to 1000 bails of hay, and repaired one tractor and a pickup truck. at one point late in the afternoon, another dude showed up and wanted to work. The farmer, wanting all the help he could get, put the dude to work with the peeps. a little while later the peeps and the dude were done with their projects and it was pay time.
the farmer man gave the peeps and the dude 200 dollars each.
the peeps saw the dude take the 200 dollars from the farmer. "hey man! you only worked a couple hours!!!" they said angrily. then they said, "hey farmer man, that dude only worked a couple hours! what the heck is the deal here? how come he gets $200 too?"
the farmer said, "peeps, a deal is a deal. did i short change you in some way?"
and the peeps went home really upset with their 200 dollars.
and the dude went home with his 200 dollars too.

sleight

it's people like you, bearded man, that make me avoid social pretense
i was so right about so many things, but you had to be right
even down to the very end you were right
after i was long gone you reach through some fifth dimension to slap me in the face again and again
somehow you knew
you were right and i was wrong
and you're the one with the beard

short

life is short. but exactly how short is always relative.

i had a dream last night in which i was diagnosed with some kind of degenerative brain disease. i remember that the prognosis wasn't pretty and that i was basically given a death sentence. i think i took it well at first, but then my brother walked in the room and shot me in the head (a pretty bold move i'd say). it would have been better if he had better aim and actually killed me, but instead it only barely hit the very top of my head. i remember looking in the pillow and couch i was sitting on for the bullet (maybe it only grazed my head) but i couldn't find it and so, came to the conclusion that it indeed pierced my skull and that i was probably hemorrhaging. suddenly i had this list of things that i would have died and never experienced.

i'm afraid to die and i'm afraid to admit it.