Rock Star Hour

Hi. Long time no talk.

I've been having a panic attack for what seems like the last two hours, so this may not be the best time to write. But what else can I do with all this anxious energy?

I haven't written on this thing in so long. I haven't written anything for myself, even, in what seems just as long.

I have not written a complete song in two years.

But I've been busy. The busy part has been spent making mistakes, and then picking up the pieces of past mes, and trying to break patterns in both thought and action.

Sometimes all this is easier than others.

I thought I learned several years ago that things never get easier, that they never stop changing, that bad things can continue to happen, that people constantly come and go ... I thought I knew a lot. I even thought I was an idealist.

But what I have learned since is that "knowing" things doesn't get you very far between where you are and where you want to be.

So here I am, starting over like so many other times, while knowing this will not be the last, and pushing the envelope, trying to develop a new sense of self, a positive one, trying to not only dream, but to act, and trying to make decisions.

I am finding out how many decisions there really are.

I guess maybe I should start over, and let you know what is new, to catch you up, for whatever reason:

I have been to jail.

I've totaled two vehicles in my life.

I've made countless mistakes, and learned from some.

I've been in a fight.

I've been a camp counselor for now six out of the last seven years.

I've been the editor-in-chief of a daily newspaper.

I've been in love.

I've been in lust.

I've said things I didn't mean.

I've meant things I shouldn't have said.

I've hated myself. And a lot of other people. And the world, sometimes, and acted accordingly.

I've had dreams I wished were real.

I've had realities come at me and feel as if they were nightmares while they were happening.

But I've found that situations repeat themselves and can be presented as tests for your so-called new and improved self.

I have found that wisdom neither comes from experience nor age.

I have found that I prefer to believe that the body's natural state is one of calm, and a form of happiness, when not interjected with nonsensically emotional thoughts manifested from personal systems shaped by separate realities.

I have come to a place where I can set goals and surprise myself at accomplishing even the smaller ones.

I have come to appreciate, when I remember, that the differences between individuals are often as vast as those between nations.

I have come to recognize the past while consciously shooting for a present that I can own, and when I say I, I mean me, and the me I mean is the purest form of me, the one I like to believe is strong and good.

I read today in Les Mis, which is wonderful -- and I agree with Victor Hugo, or at least the narrator on this, completely -- that within every human being is an animal, and not just one animal but all animals ... because the last few years have shown me that within me is a turtle, a lamb, a rabbit, a wolf, a lion, a sheep, a black widow spider, a bluebird, and many more I have yet to discover.

This thought is distressing sometimes. Because these animals within humans all comprise an orchestra of virtues and faults; and all virtues have faults, and all faults have virtues. It bothers me as much in one vein as it motivates me in another. It gives me hope in still another. And at times this realization, whether in a moment of release or even in contemplation, is enough to chill my bones and palpitate my heart.

And doing "what is right" is such a broad yet narrow way of thinking, isn't it?

I've made mistakes that others would be proud to make, and have told me so.

And some of the good things I've done, the ones I am acknowledged for, amount to almost nothing in my own eyes when scrutinized underneath my microscopic system of values.

So I guess that's everything, without saying much, all the issues I've been thinking about while not really. All that a few good books, good deeds, mistakes, and a little therapy have taught me so far.

But I will say that all in all, I'm working my way toward a form of happiness I've never quite felt before -- the kind that you can get to no matter what your circumstances ... a kind of comfort I would love to feel for any length of time in my own skin, hopefully, forever ... the kind that allows you to love and give and receive, and be good to others no matter what is going on at the moment ... the kind that would just feel peaceful.

That's what I want very, very much. And that's all I'd like for the present and future. So that's all I feel like writing. I'm gonna get back to finding something to laugh at, or somethin' .... cause that's all I need. That's all anybody needs.

Labels: Books, Camp, Jail, Les Miserables, Mistakes, Music, Regret, Therapy