I really should be asleep by now. Normally I would be, but I just spent the last hour helping my friend by bringing her some of the drug I take. She too is bipolar, and currently In quite a manic. She was prescribed what I take, but there's no where to fill a perscription at four in the morning.
She should be asleep by now. I made sure not to leave until she was well on her way to being passed out. Normally my drugs get taken by somewhere around eleven thirty. That I didn't take them umtil ten minutes ago is mostly because of the sort of night I've had.
I went to a friends party. It was great. I ended up drinking more than I have in quite a while. I haven't been drunk enough to puke in months. I'm pretty sure that I went off to puke and after a bit of puking was given a ride back home. I do hope I wasn't any trouble for them. That tends to happen when I loose control over things.
I rather hate not being sure what happened to me for the bulk of the night. It's bothersome. I've no reason to be particularly worried about anything I may have done, but it's bothersome to even thing that I may have.
There's a reason I don't really drink so much anymore, and I feel like tonight is meant as an affirmation of that fact.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Introversion.
I have a threshold for dealing with people. I may have gotten the hours down. 4.5-8 hours is my limit. Within that window I start to get really annoyed and unpersonable. I can still be a nice person, but it's really hard. Those hours don't have to be spent in the same room either. If for thirty minutes of that I'm watching tv and the other person is in my room I still am going to get a little peeved. It's nothing personal.
I get energy from the inside. I stay in and read, and play music, and write, and these things recharge me. Being out with people, no matter how much I enjoy it, is draining. That's true of everyone from my family to my best friends. I've occasionally had girlfriends who I could put up with for longer, but that's an exception to the rule.
I hate to make people feel put off or unhappy because I'm getting annoyed, and I really do try to prevent it. I just have to have a refractory period before I can start going again. I love people (well sometimes I hate them, but for the most part I love them). It's not a function of my like or dislike of someone. My favourite people annoy me after a while.
Such is Introversion. No matter how personable someone is when you meet them, or how nice they are, they still may be introverted. One may still get their energies from the quiet spaces of home. I live in my head, and I'd rather not do anything about it.
So if you know someone like me, give them a break every once in a while. If they get snappy after a few hours of time with you, it's probably not personal. Rationality is hard when you're drained.
I get energy from the inside. I stay in and read, and play music, and write, and these things recharge me. Being out with people, no matter how much I enjoy it, is draining. That's true of everyone from my family to my best friends. I've occasionally had girlfriends who I could put up with for longer, but that's an exception to the rule.
I hate to make people feel put off or unhappy because I'm getting annoyed, and I really do try to prevent it. I just have to have a refractory period before I can start going again. I love people (well sometimes I hate them, but for the most part I love them). It's not a function of my like or dislike of someone. My favourite people annoy me after a while.
Such is Introversion. No matter how personable someone is when you meet them, or how nice they are, they still may be introverted. One may still get their energies from the quiet spaces of home. I live in my head, and I'd rather not do anything about it.
So if you know someone like me, give them a break every once in a while. If they get snappy after a few hours of time with you, it's probably not personal. Rationality is hard when you're drained.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Some thoughts on Death and Life.
It's hard to not think of death when the sun sets. I'm never sure how afraid to be. It's something that's bothered me ever since I stopped believing in a god. That's something no one can deny about religion; it sure is comforting.
I still cross myself when I hear sirens. When I was daft I used to pray a rosary to calm the fuck down. I didn't think anyone was listening, but the repetitive action felt good. I was raised with religion. Hell, I worked at a church camp for most of my highschool summers, and two of my college ones.
Belief isn't really something we chose though. My dad believes in god because of a vision during a psychosis. I do have to admit that if I saw something like that I'd probably be swayed, even if only to make myself feel better about the impending END that awaits us all.
I always read before I go to bed. Lately I've been rereading a collection of Philip K. Dick stories. I don't know why these tend to bring thoughts of death up more than anything else I read before bed, but the simple fact is they do.
I haven't been having the horrible experience I used too; wake up scared and breathless, having a clear realisation that after this there is nothing. It's more been a feeling of death looming and then a desire to be sharing my bed with someone, anyone really.
That whole experience of finding oneself alone at night, the reaper knocking at your door, and your heart beating out of your chest is something I've heard described by other non-believers as well. It's not a pleasant experience, but there's not much I can do about it.
I really do think I'd believe if I had a choice. Once you're out there's no getting back in though. So what I want to get at here is on how I've been thinking about death lately. I don't know how I feel. I'm not afraid of it for the most part. I do think it's the end, and I've only got the time I'm alive to experience and be. That's bothersome but like so many other things I can't help, I just deal with it.
The reason this comes up, besides the fact of the thought coming to me at night, is that I don't feel like I have time to put up with pointless things. There are so many trivial things that one does to keep on in this world, but frankly, most of them aren't worth my (or your) time. Dealing with the busy work parts of classes, working in jobs we don't like in order to pay bills.
That's part of why I usually say fuck it to all the things that seem trivial. I don't tend to study so much, though some of that is just because I don't usually need too. I don't care about administrative things. I spend more of my time playing music, writing, consuming stories. I do things I enjoy because I must. It's not something I want to negotiate. We tend to negotiate our lives away. We don't ask someone out because we're afraid of rejection, but the more time we waste being wallflowers the less time we have between now and death to find happiness.
I don't know that long life is really a great thing unless you're really living. I want to find out how we tick, and unless I'm doing that what good is my life. I want to make music that no one else can make, and if I'm not doing that what's the point. I want to write things that only I could write.
Do you see a theme here. I want to be fully. I've experienced more in 21 years than most people do in forty. I don't say this because I want to make you feel guilty or worried, I don't say this because I think everyone is wasting their lives. I say this because I want people to think a little. If this is all there is, what are you going to do with it.
If you live your life fully and then you get heaven, then great. If there's an afterlife you're not going to be penalised for living well in this life, but if there isn't one, you've penalised yourself.
Now is when you can make a difference, and now is all that you know for sure you've got. Tomorrow is unsure. Death is unsure. Maybe sorrow is all that awaits us, but something that we can all be sure of is that we are alive now.
I'm afraid of death, because no mater how bad life gets, it's still life. I want to be tired by the time I die. I want to have experienced so much that I'm simply tired of being here. I can't see that happening any time soon. And that won't ever happen if I don't just grab life by the balls.
Tonight I'm going to think about death, and I'm going to worry about sleeping alone, But tomorrow, I'm going to go to try to enjoy things. I'm going to stop being so cautious about everything. I'm going to stop treating things as if they are just hazards to be crossed. Routines should be thrown by the wayside unless you can make them enjoyable.
Tomorrow I should stop worrying about falling asleep alone and do something about it. Instead of waiting all day to get to writing, I'm going to write. Instead of waiting for permission to do what I want to do, I'm going to do what I want to do.
That's basically been my philosophy thus far, but I feel like right now is a crystallising moment. The Episcopalian in me wants to bring up the confession of sins, I have not loved you with our whole hearts. Apply that to life. I have not loved life with my whole heart. I've been cynical and disappointed. The world has made me look down on this life, but it's all I have.
My bicycle is not the best one there is, but it is my favourite because it is what I have. The same is true of life. I have not loved thee with my whole heart. I have sinned in thought word and deed. The only person I was hurting was myself.
Now's the time to stop all that.
I still cross myself when I hear sirens. When I was daft I used to pray a rosary to calm the fuck down. I didn't think anyone was listening, but the repetitive action felt good. I was raised with religion. Hell, I worked at a church camp for most of my highschool summers, and two of my college ones.
Belief isn't really something we chose though. My dad believes in god because of a vision during a psychosis. I do have to admit that if I saw something like that I'd probably be swayed, even if only to make myself feel better about the impending END that awaits us all.
I always read before I go to bed. Lately I've been rereading a collection of Philip K. Dick stories. I don't know why these tend to bring thoughts of death up more than anything else I read before bed, but the simple fact is they do.
I haven't been having the horrible experience I used too; wake up scared and breathless, having a clear realisation that after this there is nothing. It's more been a feeling of death looming and then a desire to be sharing my bed with someone, anyone really.
That whole experience of finding oneself alone at night, the reaper knocking at your door, and your heart beating out of your chest is something I've heard described by other non-believers as well. It's not a pleasant experience, but there's not much I can do about it.
I really do think I'd believe if I had a choice. Once you're out there's no getting back in though. So what I want to get at here is on how I've been thinking about death lately. I don't know how I feel. I'm not afraid of it for the most part. I do think it's the end, and I've only got the time I'm alive to experience and be. That's bothersome but like so many other things I can't help, I just deal with it.
The reason this comes up, besides the fact of the thought coming to me at night, is that I don't feel like I have time to put up with pointless things. There are so many trivial things that one does to keep on in this world, but frankly, most of them aren't worth my (or your) time. Dealing with the busy work parts of classes, working in jobs we don't like in order to pay bills.
That's part of why I usually say fuck it to all the things that seem trivial. I don't tend to study so much, though some of that is just because I don't usually need too. I don't care about administrative things. I spend more of my time playing music, writing, consuming stories. I do things I enjoy because I must. It's not something I want to negotiate. We tend to negotiate our lives away. We don't ask someone out because we're afraid of rejection, but the more time we waste being wallflowers the less time we have between now and death to find happiness.
I don't know that long life is really a great thing unless you're really living. I want to find out how we tick, and unless I'm doing that what good is my life. I want to make music that no one else can make, and if I'm not doing that what's the point. I want to write things that only I could write.
Do you see a theme here. I want to be fully. I've experienced more in 21 years than most people do in forty. I don't say this because I want to make you feel guilty or worried, I don't say this because I think everyone is wasting their lives. I say this because I want people to think a little. If this is all there is, what are you going to do with it.
If you live your life fully and then you get heaven, then great. If there's an afterlife you're not going to be penalised for living well in this life, but if there isn't one, you've penalised yourself.
Now is when you can make a difference, and now is all that you know for sure you've got. Tomorrow is unsure. Death is unsure. Maybe sorrow is all that awaits us, but something that we can all be sure of is that we are alive now.
I'm afraid of death, because no mater how bad life gets, it's still life. I want to be tired by the time I die. I want to have experienced so much that I'm simply tired of being here. I can't see that happening any time soon. And that won't ever happen if I don't just grab life by the balls.
Tonight I'm going to think about death, and I'm going to worry about sleeping alone, But tomorrow, I'm going to go to try to enjoy things. I'm going to stop being so cautious about everything. I'm going to stop treating things as if they are just hazards to be crossed. Routines should be thrown by the wayside unless you can make them enjoyable.
Tomorrow I should stop worrying about falling asleep alone and do something about it. Instead of waiting all day to get to writing, I'm going to write. Instead of waiting for permission to do what I want to do, I'm going to do what I want to do.
That's basically been my philosophy thus far, but I feel like right now is a crystallising moment. The Episcopalian in me wants to bring up the confession of sins, I have not loved you with our whole hearts. Apply that to life. I have not loved life with my whole heart. I've been cynical and disappointed. The world has made me look down on this life, but it's all I have.
My bicycle is not the best one there is, but it is my favourite because it is what I have. The same is true of life. I have not loved thee with my whole heart. I have sinned in thought word and deed. The only person I was hurting was myself.
Now's the time to stop all that.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Costs/Benefits.
It's not always easy to come up with new things to write. That's particularly true of draining days. Matt and I played a show. It went well, but it still drained me of a bit of energy. That's the primary deficit I've felt since going on my drugs, I don't have thoughts going on all the time.
There are now times where I don't have more than one thing going on in my head. It's odd, and it seriously hinders my ability to produce more creative output. so I try to wrack my brain, but it just doesn't want to cooperate.
It's a little maddening. I already knew I couldn't rely on my brain for accuracy in perception, or for stability of moods, but finding that I can't rely on it for creative output is seriously disheartening. Of course I had months where no creation occurred, during depressions. I suppose the daily decrease in great ideas is part of spreading my uncreative state over a longer period, as well as spreading my really productive periods over a longer time span.
I don't know if the maths work out for that though. If I produced more in the earlier condition where I had my ups and downs or if I'm likely to produce more now that I've got everything even.
It's hard to know if the trade off is worth it.
That is the central question of my life right now. I'll have to figure it out eventually, but it's hard to have perspective on something so close to oneself.
I could deal with it if the products of this lack of creativity didn't irk me so much. Posts like this where there isn't a whole lot of outside interest make me feel a little like that creative decline isn't worth it. The saddest thing is I can't immediately do anything to stop all this. I have to keep on working with my brain hindered.
So I may keep writing these horrid posts with so little to offer. I may continue to feel the effects of declining creativity. It's something I haven't come to peace with.
There are now times where I don't have more than one thing going on in my head. It's odd, and it seriously hinders my ability to produce more creative output. so I try to wrack my brain, but it just doesn't want to cooperate.
It's a little maddening. I already knew I couldn't rely on my brain for accuracy in perception, or for stability of moods, but finding that I can't rely on it for creative output is seriously disheartening. Of course I had months where no creation occurred, during depressions. I suppose the daily decrease in great ideas is part of spreading my uncreative state over a longer period, as well as spreading my really productive periods over a longer time span.
I don't know if the maths work out for that though. If I produced more in the earlier condition where I had my ups and downs or if I'm likely to produce more now that I've got everything even.
It's hard to know if the trade off is worth it.
That is the central question of my life right now. I'll have to figure it out eventually, but it's hard to have perspective on something so close to oneself.
I could deal with it if the products of this lack of creativity didn't irk me so much. Posts like this where there isn't a whole lot of outside interest make me feel a little like that creative decline isn't worth it. The saddest thing is I can't immediately do anything to stop all this. I have to keep on working with my brain hindered.
So I may keep writing these horrid posts with so little to offer. I may continue to feel the effects of declining creativity. It's something I haven't come to peace with.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Achille's dilema.
Well Matt and I have another show tomorrow. This one will be acoustic. I'm really looking forward to more playing. I like having shows. Besides that I've two tests tomorrow.
But of course that's not what you're reading for. Information about what I'm doing tomorrow isn't really important in this paradigm. Giving info about what I'm doing isn't worth shirking off studying. So I have some larger goals with this post.
Partly to remember why I'm writing this blog at all. Of course my life is less tumultuous now, my drugs working, my sorting out of the world coming a long a little better, but that doesn't mean that the centre of all this needs to be left behind.
All the while I've been intending to ask serious questions about my nature and where I fit in things. With the coming of better days I'm having to redefine that. My days are largely a set of things that need to be done, and the time that before filled with a million thoughts now only fills with one or two. The slowing of my cognition, though to some extents useful, has somewhat hindered the sheer volume of ideas I used to have.
I've written too many times about what it's like finding out how to be oneself in a different situation to not know where this ends. I'll find some small truth and latch onto it hoping to avoid finding more. It's a continual process and surely enough after explaining it, it will continue.
So what may be more important is what is going on in my past rather than my current life.
Today wasn't wild. It was nice and slow, and eventful but in a good way. That isn't how my days used to be. I had a few different descriptions of my thought. I almost forget them now being so far removed from Sane and un-medicated thought.
I used to think in probabilities. In the book Dune Paul Atriedes through the drug Melange and a genetic gift found the fabric of space time and could see the golden thread that led through the weave. Before my drugs, and before my madness (sometimes during as well) I could see the weave. No golden thread stood out, but the whole weave was visible to me. Within three weeks I could see the repercusions of an action. All this went on while my brain processed tens of other things.
All the time a song was playing as well. If I wasn't singing, it was playing in my head. I cannot know if my mental experience is like someone else's, and being mildly dyslexic, I'm rather sure that what I see as a P probably looks a hell of a lot like a q would to anyone else. I know that through madness I have a different perspective than just about anyone.
The change of that perspective on drugs is so drastic. I am no longer the person I was. I had such a view on the world. I could see everything as the parts that make up other things. Objects broke down for me. Stories filled my brain and all the time things were flying by waiting to be grabbed back up.
I wrote on my arms because there was so much I needed to know, and there wasn't space in my brain to remember assignments or appointments. I had pages everywhere of various thoughts and Ideas. While everyone else was paying attention in class or leaving it alone entirely, I was half attending and half reading.
A teacher would call on me while I was reading to try and trip me up, and I would still answer the question correctly. When I actually payed attention in class Teachers often had to add a caveat to their questions "What is the bla bla bla , Someone other than Patrick this time."
So having a brain that is otherwise so disordered is a change. A drastic change that I haven't really talked about before.
I often wish that I could just go crazy for just a little longer. Make enough money to support myself for a few months and then go off of my drugs, induce mania, and go back on them before I hit a depression. I could create so much. The rate of thoughts will be maddening, and I'll have so much to produce. Not just these nightly posts of maybe three pages. I could make something amazing.
I can't do that though. I have too much to lose. I don't know If I could take another depression. I don't know if I could live through it. And frankly, if I have a mixed episode there's a gauranteed suicide attempt in the works. I'm not someone who wants that, but I know what depression is like and I don't think I could take it.
God if I only could get both. I have to dull my brilliance to keep my life going. I get to choose a long life of moderate (or realistically, very minor) brilliance and productivity, or I get a short life of wild brilliance that may end before I'm thirty.
The Worst thing about this paradigm is how tempted I am to aim for the short but brilliant life. I know I could produce amazing things on my drugs as well. Just my continuation of this blog and my music and writing is a sign of that. However I can't help but feel a bit worried. Look what this blog has devolved into. I tell you about the happenings of my day, and give analysis. The people still reading are doing so in hopes that they will find something exicting or interesting like the things I used to produce. I have a feeling I'm letting them down.
It's not all my fault though. I still have all this information filling my brain, I still have all these thoughts to be had, but I just can't keep them going at the same rate. I can't just close my eyes an have ten things going on at once. Where before I had writing problems because I had too many Ideas now I have problems because I've too few.
There has been a significant cognitive twist. I don't think that it is the worst possible side effect, but I don't know if I can keep going accepting this hindered brain as mine. It's only painful to think the way I do now because I know the brilliance I once had. I know how unique my mind could have been. My life short, and wild, but oh so productive. Were I just to stop taking my medicine it would be mine in a week. It is hard because that life is so close.
People don't adhere to their drugs because of this, because their minds aren't theirs. There are places where I've arguably improved because of the changes in cognition my drugs have afforded, but it's not all about thinking, a lot of it is how I feel.
It doesn't matter if my writing is more connective and cogent if there's so little of it. It doesn't matter if I can put effort towards something if I don't have that inspirational spark.
While in a hypomania I can produce half a book. And I could do it again, and again any time I get in that state. Without hypomania I have to work everyday for a year to produce half a book. With my new brain I have to sit down every day and write just to know what my mind is.
Though I'll keep taking my meds because I believe I'm smart enough, hell, even brilliant enough, to overcome the cognitive deficits that now befall me, and because If I can be brilliant with drugs I have 80-100 years rather than 30-50 in which my life can unfurl and my works can be written and played.
I don't want to die, and I'm confident (or overconfident) enough to think that I'm still smarter than most people even when my drugs slow me down. So my drugs will keep being taken. My life will keep on going, without suicidal thoughts, and days where I cry for no reason.
That doesn't mean I have fully forgiven fate, or genetics, or that God I don't believe exists, for giving me a taste of brilliance and then making me choose between a short life that leads to fame, or a long one with no notoriety.
The mother of Achilles gave him the same choice. To die in battle, famous, strong, forever remembered, or to live on a farm and be remembered by only his family. We know which choice he made. His rage, His pride, are things of legend.
Perhaps I'm less proud. Perhaps I'm humble enough to take the offer of the farm. Or maybe I'm more fully taking on the mantle of pride and thinking myself above the choice. Thinking of myself as able to create my future despite all the evidence to the contrary.
But of course that's not what you're reading for. Information about what I'm doing tomorrow isn't really important in this paradigm. Giving info about what I'm doing isn't worth shirking off studying. So I have some larger goals with this post.
Partly to remember why I'm writing this blog at all. Of course my life is less tumultuous now, my drugs working, my sorting out of the world coming a long a little better, but that doesn't mean that the centre of all this needs to be left behind.
All the while I've been intending to ask serious questions about my nature and where I fit in things. With the coming of better days I'm having to redefine that. My days are largely a set of things that need to be done, and the time that before filled with a million thoughts now only fills with one or two. The slowing of my cognition, though to some extents useful, has somewhat hindered the sheer volume of ideas I used to have.
I've written too many times about what it's like finding out how to be oneself in a different situation to not know where this ends. I'll find some small truth and latch onto it hoping to avoid finding more. It's a continual process and surely enough after explaining it, it will continue.
So what may be more important is what is going on in my past rather than my current life.
Today wasn't wild. It was nice and slow, and eventful but in a good way. That isn't how my days used to be. I had a few different descriptions of my thought. I almost forget them now being so far removed from Sane and un-medicated thought.
I used to think in probabilities. In the book Dune Paul Atriedes through the drug Melange and a genetic gift found the fabric of space time and could see the golden thread that led through the weave. Before my drugs, and before my madness (sometimes during as well) I could see the weave. No golden thread stood out, but the whole weave was visible to me. Within three weeks I could see the repercusions of an action. All this went on while my brain processed tens of other things.
All the time a song was playing as well. If I wasn't singing, it was playing in my head. I cannot know if my mental experience is like someone else's, and being mildly dyslexic, I'm rather sure that what I see as a P probably looks a hell of a lot like a q would to anyone else. I know that through madness I have a different perspective than just about anyone.
The change of that perspective on drugs is so drastic. I am no longer the person I was. I had such a view on the world. I could see everything as the parts that make up other things. Objects broke down for me. Stories filled my brain and all the time things were flying by waiting to be grabbed back up.
I wrote on my arms because there was so much I needed to know, and there wasn't space in my brain to remember assignments or appointments. I had pages everywhere of various thoughts and Ideas. While everyone else was paying attention in class or leaving it alone entirely, I was half attending and half reading.
A teacher would call on me while I was reading to try and trip me up, and I would still answer the question correctly. When I actually payed attention in class Teachers often had to add a caveat to their questions "What is the bla bla bla , Someone other than Patrick this time."
So having a brain that is otherwise so disordered is a change. A drastic change that I haven't really talked about before.
I often wish that I could just go crazy for just a little longer. Make enough money to support myself for a few months and then go off of my drugs, induce mania, and go back on them before I hit a depression. I could create so much. The rate of thoughts will be maddening, and I'll have so much to produce. Not just these nightly posts of maybe three pages. I could make something amazing.
I can't do that though. I have too much to lose. I don't know If I could take another depression. I don't know if I could live through it. And frankly, if I have a mixed episode there's a gauranteed suicide attempt in the works. I'm not someone who wants that, but I know what depression is like and I don't think I could take it.
God if I only could get both. I have to dull my brilliance to keep my life going. I get to choose a long life of moderate (or realistically, very minor) brilliance and productivity, or I get a short life of wild brilliance that may end before I'm thirty.
The Worst thing about this paradigm is how tempted I am to aim for the short but brilliant life. I know I could produce amazing things on my drugs as well. Just my continuation of this blog and my music and writing is a sign of that. However I can't help but feel a bit worried. Look what this blog has devolved into. I tell you about the happenings of my day, and give analysis. The people still reading are doing so in hopes that they will find something exicting or interesting like the things I used to produce. I have a feeling I'm letting them down.
It's not all my fault though. I still have all this information filling my brain, I still have all these thoughts to be had, but I just can't keep them going at the same rate. I can't just close my eyes an have ten things going on at once. Where before I had writing problems because I had too many Ideas now I have problems because I've too few.
There has been a significant cognitive twist. I don't think that it is the worst possible side effect, but I don't know if I can keep going accepting this hindered brain as mine. It's only painful to think the way I do now because I know the brilliance I once had. I know how unique my mind could have been. My life short, and wild, but oh so productive. Were I just to stop taking my medicine it would be mine in a week. It is hard because that life is so close.
People don't adhere to their drugs because of this, because their minds aren't theirs. There are places where I've arguably improved because of the changes in cognition my drugs have afforded, but it's not all about thinking, a lot of it is how I feel.
It doesn't matter if my writing is more connective and cogent if there's so little of it. It doesn't matter if I can put effort towards something if I don't have that inspirational spark.
While in a hypomania I can produce half a book. And I could do it again, and again any time I get in that state. Without hypomania I have to work everyday for a year to produce half a book. With my new brain I have to sit down every day and write just to know what my mind is.
Though I'll keep taking my meds because I believe I'm smart enough, hell, even brilliant enough, to overcome the cognitive deficits that now befall me, and because If I can be brilliant with drugs I have 80-100 years rather than 30-50 in which my life can unfurl and my works can be written and played.
I don't want to die, and I'm confident (or overconfident) enough to think that I'm still smarter than most people even when my drugs slow me down. So my drugs will keep being taken. My life will keep on going, without suicidal thoughts, and days where I cry for no reason.
That doesn't mean I have fully forgiven fate, or genetics, or that God I don't believe exists, for giving me a taste of brilliance and then making me choose between a short life that leads to fame, or a long one with no notoriety.
The mother of Achilles gave him the same choice. To die in battle, famous, strong, forever remembered, or to live on a farm and be remembered by only his family. We know which choice he made. His rage, His pride, are things of legend.
Perhaps I'm less proud. Perhaps I'm humble enough to take the offer of the farm. Or maybe I'm more fully taking on the mantle of pride and thinking myself above the choice. Thinking of myself as able to create my future despite all the evidence to the contrary.
A good show and Hot day.
Tonight I just played a show. It was hot and sweaty despite being outside. I described it to my room-mates as sweating the pacific ocean. I really enjoyed playing but the sweat ran down my face and it still was for a while afterwards while I sat watching the band that followed us, with a beer by my side.
It was nice having a beer and some relaxation. The band that followed us was good for that. I'm not really into them, and Matt and I left before their set was over, but they're good. I don't listen to them on my own because they aren't really my thing.
We publicised a lot, so plenty of people who we knew came. Not as many people as we had hoped took our free demos. If anyone wants one let me know and I can get you one some way or another.
I wrote a little verse in my notebook while the other band was playing
the sun is down, the heat remains
my head is clogged and I'm bereft of all compose
Or metered rhyme
I can't control the tongue of mine and on I go though meaning's gone.
I'm hoping tomorrow isn't as how, but I don't expect it to get cooler. The sun was out so hot yesterday and today. I'm not ready for the heat of summer. maybe this will get me there, but one is never prepared for the drastic heat of a Davis summer.
I would like more nights like this though. I like playing shows. The more we do the happier I am. Matt and I are playing one on Tuesday, just the two of us. That should be fun. Have some work to do tomorrow, on top of practising. Looking forward to playing, but I should probably be focusing on the classes a bit more.
Oh well.
It was nice having a beer and some relaxation. The band that followed us was good for that. I'm not really into them, and Matt and I left before their set was over, but they're good. I don't listen to them on my own because they aren't really my thing.
We publicised a lot, so plenty of people who we knew came. Not as many people as we had hoped took our free demos. If anyone wants one let me know and I can get you one some way or another.
I wrote a little verse in my notebook while the other band was playing
the sun is down, the heat remains
my head is clogged and I'm bereft of all compose
Or metered rhyme
I can't control the tongue of mine and on I go though meaning's gone.
I'm hoping tomorrow isn't as how, but I don't expect it to get cooler. The sun was out so hot yesterday and today. I'm not ready for the heat of summer. maybe this will get me there, but one is never prepared for the drastic heat of a Davis summer.
I would like more nights like this though. I like playing shows. The more we do the happier I am. Matt and I are playing one on Tuesday, just the two of us. That should be fun. Have some work to do tomorrow, on top of practising. Looking forward to playing, but I should probably be focusing on the classes a bit more.
Oh well.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Picnic Day.
Picnic day was good. I woke up and had a nice breakfast with friends, and then drank some, then went and wandered campus with them. I ran into other people I knew and hung out with them as well. The whole day was pretty nice. It was the hottest it's been in Davis this year. I was really glad I'd worn shorts.
I've been thinking about a lot of things. Mostly I'm just excited about the show my band is doing tomorrow. It should be good.
I had some nice conversations with a few people, some of them about neuroscience, some of them about mental illness, some about the value of translations of literature. I'm not sure how many of them were anything more than time wasters, but that's fine by me at the moment.
I still feel rather warm, and feel like I may have gotten a sunburn. That's not a farfetched idea. I don't much like sunburns, but I dislike sunscreen more. I don't know where I got the dislike from, but I just really don't like sunscreen. I'm not built for the heat. I'm far to white for that to be my ideal environment.
I left campus around 10 and I felt like I was going to come home and play guitar and write, but by the time I got back I didn't feel creative anymore. I hate it when that happens. The creativity is sometimes sapped out of me by hanging out with people. I really can't put up with people for more than 4 or 5 hours without getting really tired and out of it afterwards. I have a bit of a refractory period, where I need to rest and recover. I'm not particularly moody anymore when I've spent to much time around people, but I do feel drained. I just sat about and watched an hour of Ashes to Ashes. I didn't create anything and I feel somewhat deficient for that.
It's something I would have kicked myself for in the past.
I want to make things, but somehow I don't get to it.
I don't really want to live a life where making things is a side project to all of my other goings on. I don't really feel real except for when I'm making things. That's a problem for me when I have classes and other things to do. I don't want to live by just doing things and getting by. I want to thrive rather than just exist.
I'm ok with my life right now though. Things are amazing and I'm happy about it. Sometimes I just get in a funk. I can't hang out with people for so long without feeling at least a little misanthropic.
It's one of those things that's genuinely me rather than whatever is wrong with me.
It felt good just spitting out a post. That's usually true. I still feel uncreative, and out of it, but I'm guessing that'll pass after a while. I'm guessing all I need to do is eat a little bit and then I'll feel right as rain. It's hard to tell these things. I still don't fully know how I react to things. I guess it's just a matter of time.
I've been thinking about a lot of things. Mostly I'm just excited about the show my band is doing tomorrow. It should be good.
I had some nice conversations with a few people, some of them about neuroscience, some of them about mental illness, some about the value of translations of literature. I'm not sure how many of them were anything more than time wasters, but that's fine by me at the moment.
I still feel rather warm, and feel like I may have gotten a sunburn. That's not a farfetched idea. I don't much like sunburns, but I dislike sunscreen more. I don't know where I got the dislike from, but I just really don't like sunscreen. I'm not built for the heat. I'm far to white for that to be my ideal environment.
I left campus around 10 and I felt like I was going to come home and play guitar and write, but by the time I got back I didn't feel creative anymore. I hate it when that happens. The creativity is sometimes sapped out of me by hanging out with people. I really can't put up with people for more than 4 or 5 hours without getting really tired and out of it afterwards. I have a bit of a refractory period, where I need to rest and recover. I'm not particularly moody anymore when I've spent to much time around people, but I do feel drained. I just sat about and watched an hour of Ashes to Ashes. I didn't create anything and I feel somewhat deficient for that.
It's something I would have kicked myself for in the past.
I want to make things, but somehow I don't get to it.
I don't really want to live a life where making things is a side project to all of my other goings on. I don't really feel real except for when I'm making things. That's a problem for me when I have classes and other things to do. I don't want to live by just doing things and getting by. I want to thrive rather than just exist.
I'm ok with my life right now though. Things are amazing and I'm happy about it. Sometimes I just get in a funk. I can't hang out with people for so long without feeling at least a little misanthropic.
It's one of those things that's genuinely me rather than whatever is wrong with me.
It felt good just spitting out a post. That's usually true. I still feel uncreative, and out of it, but I'm guessing that'll pass after a while. I'm guessing all I need to do is eat a little bit and then I'll feel right as rain. It's hard to tell these things. I still don't fully know how I react to things. I guess it's just a matter of time.
Making a Demo and waiting for picnic day.
I spent most of the evening Burning CDs making CD cases, and drawing on said CDs and CD cases. All this for my band Osabear. It was a fun little night though. Matt, Nico (his girlfriend, my friend) and I worked on these things and a poster. We're getting ready for our show on Sunday. I'm really looking forward to it. It'll be really nice playing a show with the whole band rather than just Matt and me.
I'm also really psyched because some of the art on our demo's is really tight Nico did an awesome job on all the ones she did. I did ok, and Matt did pretty well. It was a good use of time. Next time we're totally designing one and just printing it out. Of course this way they're all unique.
The demo isn't bad. Not as good as us live, but that's to be expected until we can get a recording with a really good engineer or producer.
I'm also pretty excited because I found a CD on my windscreen under the wiper, along with a note and a pretty case. It was from a cute girl who walks by my car from time to time and likes my bumpersticker. What's doubly surprising is that it's good music. It's a nice ecclectic mix, and I'm just really happy with it. I always end up making mixtapes for grils, but I've only ever gotten one or two, so it's really exciting.
I was looking for something to get what I can't have off of my mind, and sure enough, here it is.
Life is good right now. Tomorrow is picnic day, so that means lots of people on campus and generally lots of drinking. One nice plus of my drugs is that if I drink in the morning it takes far less alcohol. Tomorrow is a traditional day to drink in the morning, so don't think it's becoming a habit or anything. I'm still being nice and responsible. It's all part of figuring out the balance.
The whole figuring out of my balance is getting easier and easier, and it's nice that life is so good. I like it quite a lot. Things haven't been this good in a while, and I'm really glad to note that.
I tend to be a bit wordy (confirmed by Matt) so I'm gonna stop it around here. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and it's nice to be doing that again.
I'm also really psyched because some of the art on our demo's is really tight Nico did an awesome job on all the ones she did. I did ok, and Matt did pretty well. It was a good use of time. Next time we're totally designing one and just printing it out. Of course this way they're all unique.
The demo isn't bad. Not as good as us live, but that's to be expected until we can get a recording with a really good engineer or producer.
I'm also pretty excited because I found a CD on my windscreen under the wiper, along with a note and a pretty case. It was from a cute girl who walks by my car from time to time and likes my bumpersticker. What's doubly surprising is that it's good music. It's a nice ecclectic mix, and I'm just really happy with it. I always end up making mixtapes for grils, but I've only ever gotten one or two, so it's really exciting.
I was looking for something to get what I can't have off of my mind, and sure enough, here it is.
Life is good right now. Tomorrow is picnic day, so that means lots of people on campus and generally lots of drinking. One nice plus of my drugs is that if I drink in the morning it takes far less alcohol. Tomorrow is a traditional day to drink in the morning, so don't think it's becoming a habit or anything. I'm still being nice and responsible. It's all part of figuring out the balance.
The whole figuring out of my balance is getting easier and easier, and it's nice that life is so good. I like it quite a lot. Things haven't been this good in a while, and I'm really glad to note that.
I tend to be a bit wordy (confirmed by Matt) so I'm gonna stop it around here. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and it's nice to be doing that again.
Friday, April 17, 2009
an obsession with stories.
I'm a bit disappointed that the sharks lost the first game of their series against the Ducks. That was sort of a cap to my night. The bar was nice though. had two pints, groaning along with about 20 other sharks fans.
I don't know why I've lost so some of my abilities of observation. I haven't had a whole lot to write about, part of it might be that I've started keeping this comic diary thing. It's pretty tight. I'm not very good at the drawing just yet, but it's nice to make observations with a visual component.
It's an entirely different sort of thing than just writing a journal, or posts. The character of it, even with the large amount of writing that I do next to the drawings, is one which better suits to logging events. I don't feel quite so narcissistic when I have drawings to go along with the stuff about my day.
On a different note, I want stories. I get sort of obsessed with stories. Be it television, or books, or music, or comic books. I love reading stories. I love watching stories. I don't really know where it came from, but stories just fill my head. I know a whole bunch of stories, from all mediums. I love trying to make stories too. It's hard to come up with something that hasn't been told one way or another, but it's fun sorting through all the possible events and lines.
Most kids like stories when they're growing up, I guess I just never grew out of it. I spend most of my time (excepting a lot of the time I spend on music) consuming and producing stories. Even some of the music has to do with stories as well, but that's more about the tune and the variability.
This caries over to myths. I've read a lot of different ranges of myth. I'm particularly fond of Irish Myth. the overlaps between these myths and greek myths, and norse myths are interesting. It's interesting to see what sorts of things crop up more than once. There's a lot of stuff that consistent in myths of all sorts.
All of the crossovers and all of the consistencies may be able to tell us something about ourselves. I like having a window into the anals of history, and the stories we've told for so long.
I'd love to figure out what my obsession came from.
I feel like I've not been writing very interesting posts the last few days. If I'm right about that I apologise. I'm likely to produce something interesting eventually.
I don't know why I've lost so some of my abilities of observation. I haven't had a whole lot to write about, part of it might be that I've started keeping this comic diary thing. It's pretty tight. I'm not very good at the drawing just yet, but it's nice to make observations with a visual component.
It's an entirely different sort of thing than just writing a journal, or posts. The character of it, even with the large amount of writing that I do next to the drawings, is one which better suits to logging events. I don't feel quite so narcissistic when I have drawings to go along with the stuff about my day.
On a different note, I want stories. I get sort of obsessed with stories. Be it television, or books, or music, or comic books. I love reading stories. I love watching stories. I don't really know where it came from, but stories just fill my head. I know a whole bunch of stories, from all mediums. I love trying to make stories too. It's hard to come up with something that hasn't been told one way or another, but it's fun sorting through all the possible events and lines.
Most kids like stories when they're growing up, I guess I just never grew out of it. I spend most of my time (excepting a lot of the time I spend on music) consuming and producing stories. Even some of the music has to do with stories as well, but that's more about the tune and the variability.
This caries over to myths. I've read a lot of different ranges of myth. I'm particularly fond of Irish Myth. the overlaps between these myths and greek myths, and norse myths are interesting. It's interesting to see what sorts of things crop up more than once. There's a lot of stuff that consistent in myths of all sorts.
All of the crossovers and all of the consistencies may be able to tell us something about ourselves. I like having a window into the anals of history, and the stories we've told for so long.
I'd love to figure out what my obsession came from.
I feel like I've not been writing very interesting posts the last few days. If I'm right about that I apologise. I'm likely to produce something interesting eventually.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tax Day.
I'm busy watching south park. I've been letting my TV watching take a lot of my day up. While watching though, I've been drawing while watching though. I'm not too bad at drawing objects but my pictures of people are pretty bad. I've been working on comic like drawings. I'm pretty pleased about what I've figured out today.
I've started keeping this big notebook, with drawings and notes. It's a nice thing to get started on. I've been keeping notebooks for years, but it's really nice to start keeping one with pictures. The only times I've let people read through my notebooks they've said I should do more drawing. I think it's mostly because people like to see drawings in notebooks, but besides that, It's a nice skill to have.
I really do need to stop watching so much TV. I don't really know why I've been watching so much.
Part of it's the stories. Easily consumed stories. Of course we don't process most of what we see on television. Id really like to do some studies about it in the future, but still. TV really does get to be addictive.
I'd love to have more interesting things to write about today, but I was a little neglectful about the fitting everything in on time. I filed my taxes today. I made so little money. That's not a horrible thing, it just makes me feel like all that time wasn't worth much.
It's nice to finally be twenty one so when I finished my taxes I could just go down to the store and get a pint of new castle brown ale. It was very nice. Having something to relax with after being done with taxes.
It's been a busy, but not busy day. It's like I did a whole bunch, but didn't do anything at all. I guess the TV watching was basically a reward for finishing stuff I needed to get done.
Sorry for the disinteresting post, but that's what Tax day with do to me.
I've started keeping this big notebook, with drawings and notes. It's a nice thing to get started on. I've been keeping notebooks for years, but it's really nice to start keeping one with pictures. The only times I've let people read through my notebooks they've said I should do more drawing. I think it's mostly because people like to see drawings in notebooks, but besides that, It's a nice skill to have.
I really do need to stop watching so much TV. I don't really know why I've been watching so much.
Part of it's the stories. Easily consumed stories. Of course we don't process most of what we see on television. Id really like to do some studies about it in the future, but still. TV really does get to be addictive.
I'd love to have more interesting things to write about today, but I was a little neglectful about the fitting everything in on time. I filed my taxes today. I made so little money. That's not a horrible thing, it just makes me feel like all that time wasn't worth much.
It's nice to finally be twenty one so when I finished my taxes I could just go down to the store and get a pint of new castle brown ale. It was very nice. Having something to relax with after being done with taxes.
It's been a busy, but not busy day. It's like I did a whole bunch, but didn't do anything at all. I guess the TV watching was basically a reward for finishing stuff I needed to get done.
Sorry for the disinteresting post, but that's what Tax day with do to me.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
maturing perhaps.
Sometimes when I don't knoo what to write about, or what to sing about, or what notes to play, I just babble and something comes out. I write a few sentences which don't have any meaning, and they'll just open up the floodgates.
It doesn't always work so well, but prodding myself doesn't work any better, so I tend to treat writing as writing, no matter what it's about. That's the best attitude I can muster when it comes to feeling uninspired.
Having fewer thoughts in my head has been something to get used to. That's a topic I'm talking a lot about, adjustments and the such. It's interesting that these things are so up on the foreground for me. I'm markedly different than my peers, but I don't really mind. I like this adjustment. I've been doing far better than I would have expected too. I haven't smoked marijuana since getting on my pills. I don't think it would be a problem if I did, I've just come to realise that when I did smoke it had no purpose. I didn't do it to calm down, or to relax, or to improve my social interactions. I just did it with no real rhyme or reason. So I've just decided I don't really care to anymore. Perhaps on occasion I will still, but I don't really feel like it's something that will fit into my weekly life like it used to.
I think maybe I did use marijuana to calm myself down in the past. Self medicating almost definitely occurred. I don't need to anymore though. The things that gradually go by the wayside are interesting. Certain tendencies are mostly gone. I've replaced the me that has a serious difficultly waking up for classes with one who goes to bed at a reasonable hour. It's not to say that those prior tendencies were entirely my fault, or even all of them bad, just that some of these old things have fallen by the wayside.
It's wrong to associate this change solely with drugs though. Some of these changes are me growing up. I don't like to think of my drugs as the actors in the changes going on with me, but more as helpers. I can do certain things because of my drugs. I don't wake up early because of my drugs, but I am able to because of them. It's like the lyrics of a song I wrong "It's my music that keeps me sane, My morning pills just help me to play"
That's not a huge thing to realise, but it does make me feel more in control. Thinking of my drugs as tools that I'm choosing to use rather than as these things that force me into a very particular box. I guess that's one of the key changes in my view of things, I am viewing myself as the one in control rather than seeing myself as someone blown about on moods, and wills and whatever else have you.
I don't know if it matters, but I want to know what of this change is my drugs and what of it is simply me maturing. I doubt I'll ever find out, but it would be nice to have some sort of idea what I have control over and what is just the effect of all the things surrounding me.
On another note. My mental length metre may be broken if I consider seven paragraphs painfully short.
It doesn't always work so well, but prodding myself doesn't work any better, so I tend to treat writing as writing, no matter what it's about. That's the best attitude I can muster when it comes to feeling uninspired.
Having fewer thoughts in my head has been something to get used to. That's a topic I'm talking a lot about, adjustments and the such. It's interesting that these things are so up on the foreground for me. I'm markedly different than my peers, but I don't really mind. I like this adjustment. I've been doing far better than I would have expected too. I haven't smoked marijuana since getting on my pills. I don't think it would be a problem if I did, I've just come to realise that when I did smoke it had no purpose. I didn't do it to calm down, or to relax, or to improve my social interactions. I just did it with no real rhyme or reason. So I've just decided I don't really care to anymore. Perhaps on occasion I will still, but I don't really feel like it's something that will fit into my weekly life like it used to.
I think maybe I did use marijuana to calm myself down in the past. Self medicating almost definitely occurred. I don't need to anymore though. The things that gradually go by the wayside are interesting. Certain tendencies are mostly gone. I've replaced the me that has a serious difficultly waking up for classes with one who goes to bed at a reasonable hour. It's not to say that those prior tendencies were entirely my fault, or even all of them bad, just that some of these old things have fallen by the wayside.
It's wrong to associate this change solely with drugs though. Some of these changes are me growing up. I don't like to think of my drugs as the actors in the changes going on with me, but more as helpers. I can do certain things because of my drugs. I don't wake up early because of my drugs, but I am able to because of them. It's like the lyrics of a song I wrong "It's my music that keeps me sane, My morning pills just help me to play"
That's not a huge thing to realise, but it does make me feel more in control. Thinking of my drugs as tools that I'm choosing to use rather than as these things that force me into a very particular box. I guess that's one of the key changes in my view of things, I am viewing myself as the one in control rather than seeing myself as someone blown about on moods, and wills and whatever else have you.
I don't know if it matters, but I want to know what of this change is my drugs and what of it is simply me maturing. I doubt I'll ever find out, but it would be nice to have some sort of idea what I have control over and what is just the effect of all the things surrounding me.
On another note. My mental length metre may be broken if I consider seven paragraphs painfully short.
Monday, April 13, 2009
probabilites
I really need to get this order of when I take drugs and when I write down. Today was a bit odd because I had actual work to do, so I guess that's an excuse, but It's not a good one. I've been rather good about the scheduling thusfar, but tonight I just missed the ball. On the upside, I'm not so out of it that I can't write. I did take my pills and I was laying down rather happily, ready to just drift off to sleep, but I feel like it's important writing this, It's also important brushing my teeth, which seem to always have problems.
So I guess this goes under the heading of taking care of myself. That's a rather unusual way to treat writing, unless I'm completely out of touch with writers everywhere and secretly that's all writing is for anybody.
I think I've come to the conclusion that my solution for anything should be either writing a post about it or writing a song about it. Whatever it may be. There are some obvious exceptions, like bills, and gaping head wounds, but for the most part, a song or a post are the best tools I have to deal with the world around me.
This is a little disconnected, but anytime a message, or a phonecall isn't returned I entertain the idea that whoever isn't responding may be dead. I end up sort of figuring out how I would find out, and if I really am close enough to the person and their family and friends to be notified if they were to die. It's epically morbid, but it's not done in any depressing way. It used to worry me endlessly, at least when I was still suffering from OCD, but now it's just an interesting exercise in thinking about how closely I am connected to people I know. Just whether you would be able to get a hold of someone's parents if you had to is an interesting indicator of how closely interrelated you are. Of course it's not the only one, but it's an important one for the whole them dying scenario.
It's one of the options for why someone doesn't call back, I always end up thinking in possibilities. All the little probabilities of certain things ocuring flutter through my brain. It used to be, before my drugs, and before my madness, that I had a very unusual representation of probability. I now know how biased it was, but I could see all the eventual events pretty well. I'm not sure I remember exactly how it worked, but there was something unusual about the way I imagined the future.
Things don't tend to surprise me. I always feel like I've already accounted for events. I've already figured out what the possibilities are so when one of them occurs I'm not surprised. I'm pretty unsurprised by everything. I'm not sure if the possibilities plotting is an adequate explanation.
anywho. I need to be getting off to bed. Buenas Noches.
So I guess this goes under the heading of taking care of myself. That's a rather unusual way to treat writing, unless I'm completely out of touch with writers everywhere and secretly that's all writing is for anybody.
I think I've come to the conclusion that my solution for anything should be either writing a post about it or writing a song about it. Whatever it may be. There are some obvious exceptions, like bills, and gaping head wounds, but for the most part, a song or a post are the best tools I have to deal with the world around me.
This is a little disconnected, but anytime a message, or a phonecall isn't returned I entertain the idea that whoever isn't responding may be dead. I end up sort of figuring out how I would find out, and if I really am close enough to the person and their family and friends to be notified if they were to die. It's epically morbid, but it's not done in any depressing way. It used to worry me endlessly, at least when I was still suffering from OCD, but now it's just an interesting exercise in thinking about how closely I am connected to people I know. Just whether you would be able to get a hold of someone's parents if you had to is an interesting indicator of how closely interrelated you are. Of course it's not the only one, but it's an important one for the whole them dying scenario.
It's one of the options for why someone doesn't call back, I always end up thinking in possibilities. All the little probabilities of certain things ocuring flutter through my brain. It used to be, before my drugs, and before my madness, that I had a very unusual representation of probability. I now know how biased it was, but I could see all the eventual events pretty well. I'm not sure I remember exactly how it worked, but there was something unusual about the way I imagined the future.
Things don't tend to surprise me. I always feel like I've already accounted for events. I've already figured out what the possibilities are so when one of them occurs I'm not surprised. I'm pretty unsurprised by everything. I'm not sure if the possibilities plotting is an adequate explanation.
anywho. I need to be getting off to bed. Buenas Noches.
Avoiding and Arduous research paper.
I'm trying to work on a really arduous paper right now. It's for my cognitive development class. The problem I'm having it sorting through all the studies that are about subjective shit, and trying to find some that are more empirical. I'm also having trouble finding research on the things I know about, language and the such.
It's hard searching for research papers in a topic one doesn't know a whole lot about, and even harder when that topic shows up a whole bunch of qualitative, subjective studies, even among the peer reviewed material. I would think that Cognitive Development could be a vitally interesting topic, but only if the topics breached were done so in an empirical fashion.
I may be dismissing it too soon, but it is disheartening thus far to look through the available research. The really clever research seems to be done by people who are outside the field of development looking in. It's a bit like sociology so far as I can tell. I'm still willing to give it a chance, but thus far the available resources are not promising.
It's hard searching for research papers in a topic one doesn't know a whole lot about, and even harder when that topic shows up a whole bunch of qualitative, subjective studies, even among the peer reviewed material. I would think that Cognitive Development could be a vitally interesting topic, but only if the topics breached were done so in an empirical fashion.
I may be dismissing it too soon, but it is disheartening thus far to look through the available research. The really clever research seems to be done by people who are outside the field of development looking in. It's a bit like sociology so far as I can tell. I'm still willing to give it a chance, but thus far the available resources are not promising.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
The Importance of Forgetting songs.
after my recounting of that argument I had with Matt, I had an interesting realisation regarding my writing process. I'm someone who writes songs, and then leaves them never to be heard. I've forgotten more songs than most bands have. That's not a qualitative analysis, doesn't make me any better, just different.
Tonight I played 6 songs. Two of which I have distinct parts to, and the other four which I made up on the spot. 3 of those made up ones were relatively good. I didn't record any of this, and I can't remember the four I made up.
These were complete songs, with lyrics and full construction an everything, but I won't ever play them again because I can't remember them. Not a single part of them has survived except whatever has gotten into my brain.
That's why the whole forgetting of a song doesn't bother me. I do it every night. I have hundreds of songs I'll never play again. Most of them are what I think of as songs for the moment. Some of them are only good once, because they are so heavily tied to whatever time I wrote them at.
One of the songs I wrote was a song to that girl I can't get out of my head. It had some clever and yearning lyrics. It's good that she won't hear it. It made me feel a bit better about the whole thing too.
That's a lot of what these songs I do by myself are for. What I'd really like Exactly to do is to just do songs like that and just be together enough that we can do performances where the songs are never the same. Just whatever we do right then, and whatever lyrics come out of my mouth. I've gotten good at just blurting out these things over all this time that I write songs most nights.
I can just produce a song if you give me my loop pedal and a guitar. 9 out of 10 times the songs are good, and that's better than the hit and miss ratio of most bands pre written songs, so I feel good about it. I guess sometimes I lament the loss of good songs that I should have recorded, but as I said before, all the songs I forget are scrapped for parts. So I have the good things from songs I've forgotten and those good things go towards my new songs. It's a lot like the Improvisational methods and improv practices of really good jazz musicians. There are things that they pick up on from prior improvisations that make their solos better.
Each song, and each solo, though done on the spot, is actually the product of many different solos played and forgotten. All those lines one's heard and played and taken note of influence the parts that they play. My guitar parts don't all sound the same because I have so many old ones to work from. The things that were good about my old songs come out, and the things that were bad gradually get filtered away.
That's the logic of the songs I just make up on the spot.
The lyrics are another thing. I'm unproven when it comes to that sort of improvisation on stage, but in my room (for all that that's worth) I tend to be pretty good at putting together interesting melodies and lyrics. Sometimes quite affecting, Often with a cogent theme. That's something that could be told from the times I have recorded things.
I like that method of loosing things. That's why Matt's worry about it doesn't resonate with me. Loosing songs, and having all of this material that will never be heard is just part of my process. It's somewhat a part of a lot of musician's process.
That's one thing I like about what we do with Osabear, we record the random songs we just make up, but we throw away most of it, so the interesting things from the old songs can be taken up and used again. That's probably the reason I've stuck with it, besides the performance of good songs we already have.
The whole point is that loosing a song isn't something that bothers me. It's not quite like having something you want to figure out on the tip of your tongue but not quite out, it's more like having all these cool ideas just below the surface waiting for the right stimulus to pull them out.
Tonight I played 6 songs. Two of which I have distinct parts to, and the other four which I made up on the spot. 3 of those made up ones were relatively good. I didn't record any of this, and I can't remember the four I made up.
These were complete songs, with lyrics and full construction an everything, but I won't ever play them again because I can't remember them. Not a single part of them has survived except whatever has gotten into my brain.
That's why the whole forgetting of a song doesn't bother me. I do it every night. I have hundreds of songs I'll never play again. Most of them are what I think of as songs for the moment. Some of them are only good once, because they are so heavily tied to whatever time I wrote them at.
One of the songs I wrote was a song to that girl I can't get out of my head. It had some clever and yearning lyrics. It's good that she won't hear it. It made me feel a bit better about the whole thing too.
That's a lot of what these songs I do by myself are for. What I'd really like Exactly to do is to just do songs like that and just be together enough that we can do performances where the songs are never the same. Just whatever we do right then, and whatever lyrics come out of my mouth. I've gotten good at just blurting out these things over all this time that I write songs most nights.
I can just produce a song if you give me my loop pedal and a guitar. 9 out of 10 times the songs are good, and that's better than the hit and miss ratio of most bands pre written songs, so I feel good about it. I guess sometimes I lament the loss of good songs that I should have recorded, but as I said before, all the songs I forget are scrapped for parts. So I have the good things from songs I've forgotten and those good things go towards my new songs. It's a lot like the Improvisational methods and improv practices of really good jazz musicians. There are things that they pick up on from prior improvisations that make their solos better.
Each song, and each solo, though done on the spot, is actually the product of many different solos played and forgotten. All those lines one's heard and played and taken note of influence the parts that they play. My guitar parts don't all sound the same because I have so many old ones to work from. The things that were good about my old songs come out, and the things that were bad gradually get filtered away.
That's the logic of the songs I just make up on the spot.
The lyrics are another thing. I'm unproven when it comes to that sort of improvisation on stage, but in my room (for all that that's worth) I tend to be pretty good at putting together interesting melodies and lyrics. Sometimes quite affecting, Often with a cogent theme. That's something that could be told from the times I have recorded things.
I like that method of loosing things. That's why Matt's worry about it doesn't resonate with me. Loosing songs, and having all of this material that will never be heard is just part of my process. It's somewhat a part of a lot of musician's process.
That's one thing I like about what we do with Osabear, we record the random songs we just make up, but we throw away most of it, so the interesting things from the old songs can be taken up and used again. That's probably the reason I've stuck with it, besides the performance of good songs we already have.
The whole point is that loosing a song isn't something that bothers me. It's not quite like having something you want to figure out on the tip of your tongue but not quite out, it's more like having all these cool ideas just below the surface waiting for the right stimulus to pull them out.
a bit about moods and band dynamics.
Just had a bit of an argument with matt. He had a chord progression he started working on. By that time we had been done with practice for about half an hour, and we were sitting around basically doing nothing. Jason was in his room studying, and matt while playing this chord progression asked if I had my recorder. I didn't have it with me, and using the vocal mic through the computer didn't work. So that went wrong.
anyway, he went into Jason's room to try and get him to play a beat to it. Jason wasn't much for that, and I was feeling a bit dazed too. So I went in and messed around a little bit, and matt got a little pissed cause he lost the thought that he had.
He was still talking about it while we left te apartment and in the car ride back to my place. He didn't really accept the point that by going in and just interrupting Jason's studying he was making it seem like what he wanted was more important than what Jason wanted. Ironically earlier in the day right before practice he was talking about some of the people they were hanging out with last night and how he dislikes dealing with people who are so set on what they want to do that they don't consider the opinions of others.
I can understand where he's coming from with the fact that he'll loose the song if he doesn't get to it just then, but I don't think he really accounts for other's enough. I know that a song will disappear, but when he wondered how often that happens, I wasn't that interested. I know how songs get lost that way, but it doesn't bother me so much, if only because the stuff that disappears ends up integrated into other songs. We sort of pick up all the stuff from songs that we've lost and forgotten and we incorporate it into our new songs. So I'm not just dismissing his thought, and his disappointment at loosing a song, I'm just not bothered by it because the song's aren't lost, just parts of them are. Each song we forget is put into our other songs. Every song that we don't use can be an influence on the songs that we do.
So while my terse, and sommewhat annoyed answer of "that doesn't interest me" seems insulting, I don't mean it to be, I just mean that the phenomenon isn't one which I can A: do anything about B: that seems to cause a whole lot of detriment to the overall writing process or C: one that I care to discuss at length.
Today I just haven't been in a mood. I don't really know what that means. These moods affect me more than other people. So when I say I'm not in the mood for something I mean it. It's not something I can easily change by some active process, it's something that I have to either let pass, or just sit with.
I'm not just copping out when I say that. I was just sitting down and feeling despondent, and wishing that I had more to do. Matt was playing the guitar, and I didn't have a guitar or a recorder, or a penny whistle. I was there with a ukulele that I wasn't used to, and expected to feel involved and creative. It's not a situation that makes me feel particularly like playing and singing.
I always end up feeling like an outside observer. I feel like I can understand more than one point of view. I also end up feeling like Matt can't. Or like he can but doesn't.
he doesn't feel like he's asking all that much, and most of the time he isn't, but that's not always true.
All I wanted right then was my loop pedal and my guitar. I didn't want to just sing over guitar, or just play along on a little ukulele. That's not something that I could do a whole lot about.
Matt often talks about the way a location or an orientation can change the music produced, but he doesn't seem to be able to incorporate that into his understanding of how other people can be out of a mood. People have moods that vary based on situation, and he understands that, he just doesn't seem to fit it into other stuff.
Of course I have my own issues, so don't take this as a general boo matt thing. I just feel like stating all this stuff that I can't really manage to say in actual conversation. I don't have much patience for people when It comes to explaining things. So I much prefer explaining in writing. it's far easier, and it allows me to take more time to deal with comments and refutation. It's useful.
Anyhow, that's all I had to say. Will likely post sometime tonight as well, but I felt like I wanted to get this whole little explanation out.
anyway, he went into Jason's room to try and get him to play a beat to it. Jason wasn't much for that, and I was feeling a bit dazed too. So I went in and messed around a little bit, and matt got a little pissed cause he lost the thought that he had.
He was still talking about it while we left te apartment and in the car ride back to my place. He didn't really accept the point that by going in and just interrupting Jason's studying he was making it seem like what he wanted was more important than what Jason wanted. Ironically earlier in the day right before practice he was talking about some of the people they were hanging out with last night and how he dislikes dealing with people who are so set on what they want to do that they don't consider the opinions of others.
I can understand where he's coming from with the fact that he'll loose the song if he doesn't get to it just then, but I don't think he really accounts for other's enough. I know that a song will disappear, but when he wondered how often that happens, I wasn't that interested. I know how songs get lost that way, but it doesn't bother me so much, if only because the stuff that disappears ends up integrated into other songs. We sort of pick up all the stuff from songs that we've lost and forgotten and we incorporate it into our new songs. So I'm not just dismissing his thought, and his disappointment at loosing a song, I'm just not bothered by it because the song's aren't lost, just parts of them are. Each song we forget is put into our other songs. Every song that we don't use can be an influence on the songs that we do.
So while my terse, and sommewhat annoyed answer of "that doesn't interest me" seems insulting, I don't mean it to be, I just mean that the phenomenon isn't one which I can A: do anything about B: that seems to cause a whole lot of detriment to the overall writing process or C: one that I care to discuss at length.
Today I just haven't been in a mood. I don't really know what that means. These moods affect me more than other people. So when I say I'm not in the mood for something I mean it. It's not something I can easily change by some active process, it's something that I have to either let pass, or just sit with.
I'm not just copping out when I say that. I was just sitting down and feeling despondent, and wishing that I had more to do. Matt was playing the guitar, and I didn't have a guitar or a recorder, or a penny whistle. I was there with a ukulele that I wasn't used to, and expected to feel involved and creative. It's not a situation that makes me feel particularly like playing and singing.
I always end up feeling like an outside observer. I feel like I can understand more than one point of view. I also end up feeling like Matt can't. Or like he can but doesn't.
he doesn't feel like he's asking all that much, and most of the time he isn't, but that's not always true.
All I wanted right then was my loop pedal and my guitar. I didn't want to just sing over guitar, or just play along on a little ukulele. That's not something that I could do a whole lot about.
Matt often talks about the way a location or an orientation can change the music produced, but he doesn't seem to be able to incorporate that into his understanding of how other people can be out of a mood. People have moods that vary based on situation, and he understands that, he just doesn't seem to fit it into other stuff.
Of course I have my own issues, so don't take this as a general boo matt thing. I just feel like stating all this stuff that I can't really manage to say in actual conversation. I don't have much patience for people when It comes to explaining things. So I much prefer explaining in writing. it's far easier, and it allows me to take more time to deal with comments and refutation. It's useful.
Anyhow, that's all I had to say. Will likely post sometime tonight as well, but I felt like I wanted to get this whole little explanation out.
a conundrum.
I do write every day, but the timestamp changes at midnight. I'm writing saturday's post right now. Saturday was good. I enjoyed the weather and the music and the nighttime. I don't have much to say though. That doesn't happen to me often. Being at a lack for words isn't a state I've often found myself in.
So tonight I went on a date. It was nice, the fellow I went out with was very nice and rather cute. I don't know how I feel about it because the whole time, and for most of the last week, and the week before that, and if I'm not mistaken the week before that I haven't been able to get this girl out of my head. I've tried. I've tried more intensely now that I've found that she's going out with this guy that she was tentatively with earlier. That paradox where trying to forget something makes you remember it took effect.
I don't like it when this sort of thing happens. I like the sweet joy of infatuation, but not the sting of unrequited love. I don't have any idea why she's gotten stuck in my head. I'll do my best to excise the thought, but it's not coming out.
I feel like telling her that. Just a simple "I can't get you out of my head" but I know the question that follows that, "what does that mean" and frankly I'm not ready to answer that. Best case scenario is she leaves the guy she's seeing and runs off with me, worst case she's horribly offput by it and then I don't ever see her again. The best way to play it is just to keep in touch and keep trying to hang out with other people and get her off my mind. If I can't seem to manage then I guess I'll just have to either grow some balls or live in limbo.
I miss when things were simple. I feel fine about myself right now. That's important. I feel more ok than I have in ages. I feel like I'm in a good place, and the only thing that's really bothering me is that when I go to sleep I feel cold and alone.
Of course I need to try to avoid giving in to my generally co-dependent tendencies, but besides that, it would be good for me to not fall asleep alone anymore. I'm tired of it, and there's just something about this girl that sticks to me. That just happens sometimes. It's not any one thing, just something get's lodged in my brain and I can't shake it.
I don't really know what I'm going to do, and I don't want to keep playing the field and having dates that I enjoy, but am not fully there for. I guess I'll figure it out eventually, but for now I'm stuck.
So tonight I went on a date. It was nice, the fellow I went out with was very nice and rather cute. I don't know how I feel about it because the whole time, and for most of the last week, and the week before that, and if I'm not mistaken the week before that I haven't been able to get this girl out of my head. I've tried. I've tried more intensely now that I've found that she's going out with this guy that she was tentatively with earlier. That paradox where trying to forget something makes you remember it took effect.
I don't like it when this sort of thing happens. I like the sweet joy of infatuation, but not the sting of unrequited love. I don't have any idea why she's gotten stuck in my head. I'll do my best to excise the thought, but it's not coming out.
I feel like telling her that. Just a simple "I can't get you out of my head" but I know the question that follows that, "what does that mean" and frankly I'm not ready to answer that. Best case scenario is she leaves the guy she's seeing and runs off with me, worst case she's horribly offput by it and then I don't ever see her again. The best way to play it is just to keep in touch and keep trying to hang out with other people and get her off my mind. If I can't seem to manage then I guess I'll just have to either grow some balls or live in limbo.
I miss when things were simple. I feel fine about myself right now. That's important. I feel more ok than I have in ages. I feel like I'm in a good place, and the only thing that's really bothering me is that when I go to sleep I feel cold and alone.
Of course I need to try to avoid giving in to my generally co-dependent tendencies, but besides that, it would be good for me to not fall asleep alone anymore. I'm tired of it, and there's just something about this girl that sticks to me. That just happens sometimes. It's not any one thing, just something get's lodged in my brain and I can't shake it.
I don't really know what I'm going to do, and I don't want to keep playing the field and having dates that I enjoy, but am not fully there for. I guess I'll figure it out eventually, but for now I'm stuck.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
a changing attitude towards parties.
I should be asleep now, but of course it is Friday so I've a reprieve. Went to a show and a party. Both were good. I'm getting much better at being the designated driver. That doesn't seem like it would be very hard to get used to, but the associative nature of memory does tend to make me feel odd when not drinking at a party. Of course the nature of parties in Davis is very drink heavy, conversation or other activity light.
This is a problem to a certain extent, but I've gotten over the problem with the putting on of an English accent, and a healthy sense of apathy. The whole purpose of a party changes when you no longer are drinking and trying to get laid. I tend to make the party into a time to meet people, and a time to be entertained by the stupidity of others. I tend to be straightforward no matter what, but drunk people don't notice this, so a statement about how they are being stupid is taken as a joke, or a chide. It makes my conversations much more interesting. So though I feel a little bad about it, I essentially enjoy parties because I get to fuck with people. I don't always intentionally do so either, sometimes I just try to talk to people and be entertained, but that always gets boring.
I much prefer the sort of gathering where it's just friends and there's a hanging out aspect to all of it. That is always far more enjoyable, sober or drunk. Meeting people at parties doesn't make much of a difference. I've met many people at parties, and I know them, but I know them in the context of parties, rarely do the connections go beyond that. It's a hard thing to figure out.
Honestly I'm getting to a point where I'd rather hang out alone with people I know. It's a seminal moment when one realises that.
I'm only twenty one, but I feel a little too old for those sorts of parties. I'm more suited to drinking with friends, or going out for a pint or two. I can understand both of those things, but the wild parties of my youth seem so shitty now. When I was really drinking a whole lot it was just with friends anyway. That's the way of things for me. This larger set of connections doesn't work. I'd rather meet someone at a dinner party, or at a little gathering that's quiet and a little boring than at a loud party where there's nothing but tumult and drunkenness.
I guess realising that can be seen as a particular milestone. I'm certainly likely to try to get smaller gatherings going. When I move into my new apartment next year, I'll try to get smaller gatherings like that together. It will be a better space for those.
Having to go to other people's events is a bit of a hassle. It'll be nice to have a place that's more resolutely my own.
This is a problem to a certain extent, but I've gotten over the problem with the putting on of an English accent, and a healthy sense of apathy. The whole purpose of a party changes when you no longer are drinking and trying to get laid. I tend to make the party into a time to meet people, and a time to be entertained by the stupidity of others. I tend to be straightforward no matter what, but drunk people don't notice this, so a statement about how they are being stupid is taken as a joke, or a chide. It makes my conversations much more interesting. So though I feel a little bad about it, I essentially enjoy parties because I get to fuck with people. I don't always intentionally do so either, sometimes I just try to talk to people and be entertained, but that always gets boring.
I much prefer the sort of gathering where it's just friends and there's a hanging out aspect to all of it. That is always far more enjoyable, sober or drunk. Meeting people at parties doesn't make much of a difference. I've met many people at parties, and I know them, but I know them in the context of parties, rarely do the connections go beyond that. It's a hard thing to figure out.
Honestly I'm getting to a point where I'd rather hang out alone with people I know. It's a seminal moment when one realises that.
I'm only twenty one, but I feel a little too old for those sorts of parties. I'm more suited to drinking with friends, or going out for a pint or two. I can understand both of those things, but the wild parties of my youth seem so shitty now. When I was really drinking a whole lot it was just with friends anyway. That's the way of things for me. This larger set of connections doesn't work. I'd rather meet someone at a dinner party, or at a little gathering that's quiet and a little boring than at a loud party where there's nothing but tumult and drunkenness.
I guess realising that can be seen as a particular milestone. I'm certainly likely to try to get smaller gatherings going. When I move into my new apartment next year, I'll try to get smaller gatherings like that together. It will be a better space for those.
Having to go to other people's events is a bit of a hassle. It'll be nice to have a place that's more resolutely my own.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Still settling in.
New drugs don't equal perfect neurochemistry. Of course that statement is obvious, but one doesn't expect the actual effects of that truth. I guess I should have realised earlier, but a new set of drugs doesn't mean complete removal of symptoms. The thing that made all this apparent was my despondent mood most of last night.
I don't like that I'll still on occasion have horrible moods for absolutely no reason. Of course I don't know how much of it is because of the world genuinely sucking and how much is from my chemistry, but I'm awfully tempted to blame chemistry considering the whole character of the despondency.
The real question here is just about what my continued life is going to be like. I still don't fully know. I know how much better things are, but sometimes the inability to think in the same way, and the loss of manias just irks me. Now that I realise that sometimes I'll get little bouts of unwarranted sadness as well, I'm not as pleased with my situation. I'll keep on with the drugs, and I'll keep living a bit better than I had, but I still have my doubts.
In a related note, I'm going to quit smoking. I don't really smoke very much as it is, but when I feel really fucking bad about something, the best option is to smoke. I have a few cigarettes and I feel better. It's not a happiness thing, it's just a coping thing. I know that If I keep it up though I'll end up just being a smoker like any other. I have one more cigarette in the pack I've got, and I'll smoke it, and then I'm done. I've said this before, but frankly I was in a much different mental state at the time. What I need to do now is figure out another way to cope. Of course I have other coping mechanisms, but that oral fixation, and the plugging of my nicotonic receptors is a great way of dealing with things.
I'm changing. It's gradual, this getting used to being the drugged me. I'm getting used to being a little more predictable, and a little crankier over time. I'm getting used to being less able to pick up nuance, and to track someone's use of nonspecific referents (saying those people to refer to some group earlier referenced by name)
Of course these deficits aren't all drugs, the inability to pick up on certain nuance is just one of my normal problems, and the referents problem seems to only happen with my bandmate who tends to generalise all over the place. I'm fine with generalisation I just need referents to be clear. people isn't specific enough. He'd expect me to understand these things and I seem like I'm being anal when I ask for clarity, but I really don't understand. It's hard.
I'm not sure if I made that problem clear in the last paragraph, so it may not be understood, but I don't feel like trying to explain it better.
I just need to keep getting used to everything. I'm tired of having to get used to it on my own. I have my band which is wonderful, but that's not the sort of partnership that would make this whole process better. The only person who's seemed fitting for such a role is with someone else. It's so much harder to do everything on one's own. That's anotehr problem with all this. I'm not so good at all the courting and the finding someone to share shit with. Maybe I'll figure it out eventually, but It's hard to figure that stuff out as well as get used to myself.
It's a bit of a catch 22, To get used to myself it would be helpful to have someone as a partner, but to get someone as a partner I have to be more used to myself.
That's one of those problems that's bothering me now. I do prefer this problem to the possibility that I'd feel so horrible I'd want to take my own life. I'd rather this than to feel as bad as I've felt, but it's sad that I have to compare it to such horrid things in order to feel better about it.
I don't like that I'll still on occasion have horrible moods for absolutely no reason. Of course I don't know how much of it is because of the world genuinely sucking and how much is from my chemistry, but I'm awfully tempted to blame chemistry considering the whole character of the despondency.
The real question here is just about what my continued life is going to be like. I still don't fully know. I know how much better things are, but sometimes the inability to think in the same way, and the loss of manias just irks me. Now that I realise that sometimes I'll get little bouts of unwarranted sadness as well, I'm not as pleased with my situation. I'll keep on with the drugs, and I'll keep living a bit better than I had, but I still have my doubts.
In a related note, I'm going to quit smoking. I don't really smoke very much as it is, but when I feel really fucking bad about something, the best option is to smoke. I have a few cigarettes and I feel better. It's not a happiness thing, it's just a coping thing. I know that If I keep it up though I'll end up just being a smoker like any other. I have one more cigarette in the pack I've got, and I'll smoke it, and then I'm done. I've said this before, but frankly I was in a much different mental state at the time. What I need to do now is figure out another way to cope. Of course I have other coping mechanisms, but that oral fixation, and the plugging of my nicotonic receptors is a great way of dealing with things.
I'm changing. It's gradual, this getting used to being the drugged me. I'm getting used to being a little more predictable, and a little crankier over time. I'm getting used to being less able to pick up nuance, and to track someone's use of nonspecific referents (saying those people to refer to some group earlier referenced by name)
Of course these deficits aren't all drugs, the inability to pick up on certain nuance is just one of my normal problems, and the referents problem seems to only happen with my bandmate who tends to generalise all over the place. I'm fine with generalisation I just need referents to be clear. people isn't specific enough. He'd expect me to understand these things and I seem like I'm being anal when I ask for clarity, but I really don't understand. It's hard.
I'm not sure if I made that problem clear in the last paragraph, so it may not be understood, but I don't feel like trying to explain it better.
I just need to keep getting used to everything. I'm tired of having to get used to it on my own. I have my band which is wonderful, but that's not the sort of partnership that would make this whole process better. The only person who's seemed fitting for such a role is with someone else. It's so much harder to do everything on one's own. That's anotehr problem with all this. I'm not so good at all the courting and the finding someone to share shit with. Maybe I'll figure it out eventually, but It's hard to figure that stuff out as well as get used to myself.
It's a bit of a catch 22, To get used to myself it would be helpful to have someone as a partner, but to get someone as a partner I have to be more used to myself.
That's one of those problems that's bothering me now. I do prefer this problem to the possibility that I'd feel so horrible I'd want to take my own life. I'd rather this than to feel as bad as I've felt, but it's sad that I have to compare it to such horrid things in order to feel better about it.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
I hate police, but love Detective shows.
I was feeling despondent, but I'm out of it now. I'm pretty pleased to be out of it. The way I got out of it was by watching some new police procedurals on television.
I hate police as an institution (and often as people, though that is more on a case by case basis) but for some reason I love police procedurals. up to about 2005 I watched ever single episode of law and order, including the spin offs. Watched it with my family a whole lot. I also have ended up watching a few different detective procedurals. Some of them are different than others, but some are just good old fashioned cop glorifying bullshit.
But as the new show Castle has been helping me realise, It's all because of the stories. For those not in the know, castle is a show in which the main character is a mystery writer who tags along with a detective to crimes to get ideas for his books.
So of course Castle thinks of all of the cases in terms of what the best story would be. That gets me to thinking. In these sorts of shows it's all about the storyline. I used to predict the results of Law and Order episodes. I was pretty accurate. My parents actually strongly encouraged that I not tell them anything during the episodes because if I talked I would pretty consistently ruin it.
That's the point though, I love these shows because they're just that, procedural. The whole thing is based on how a story works. There are very strict rules to set up and to how the story goes about after that. All of the little twists and turns are part of the formula, and what's exciting is seeing how the writers twist the formula.
The best procedural dramas make you believe that the end result was the only possible end result. It doesn't matter if it was a twist or if it was the butler all along, it just matters that you believe that it was the only option.
Modern police procedurals in many ways are our current myths. Often they're the most popular shows on television, be it CSI or NYPD Blue, and they always have characteristics that are similar to classic myths.
The modern Achilles', all rage and power, hamstrung by pride. That describes so many of the most compelling police characters in television.
I hate the ideals that they put forth, and the assumption that police are necessary or that their tactics are just, but I can't help but love the stories.
So there it is. I love my procedural dramas, no matter how prejiduced and misinforming they are, because they're an avenue for telling stories that are comfortably the same, but which differ Just enough.
I love Ashes to Ashes, and Law and Order, and Castle, and a few new ones that are coming up. I love the way the stories fit together so well, and the consistencies and inconsistencies. It's fun to second guess the writers. It's fun to see the interpersonal relations. No mater what I think about the faulty morals that these shows espouse to a largely influencable public, I can't get past how good the stories are.
I don't like violence but I love Achilles, and Cuchulain. I don't like police, but I love detective fiction. I can't get enough of Philip Marlowe, and Sam Spade. I can't get enough of Seely Booth and Temperance Brenan. It's tricky, balancing my dislike of the attitudes these myths may be strengthening in us and what wonderful stories they are.
I hate police as an institution (and often as people, though that is more on a case by case basis) but for some reason I love police procedurals. up to about 2005 I watched ever single episode of law and order, including the spin offs. Watched it with my family a whole lot. I also have ended up watching a few different detective procedurals. Some of them are different than others, but some are just good old fashioned cop glorifying bullshit.
But as the new show Castle has been helping me realise, It's all because of the stories. For those not in the know, castle is a show in which the main character is a mystery writer who tags along with a detective to crimes to get ideas for his books.
So of course Castle thinks of all of the cases in terms of what the best story would be. That gets me to thinking. In these sorts of shows it's all about the storyline. I used to predict the results of Law and Order episodes. I was pretty accurate. My parents actually strongly encouraged that I not tell them anything during the episodes because if I talked I would pretty consistently ruin it.
That's the point though, I love these shows because they're just that, procedural. The whole thing is based on how a story works. There are very strict rules to set up and to how the story goes about after that. All of the little twists and turns are part of the formula, and what's exciting is seeing how the writers twist the formula.
The best procedural dramas make you believe that the end result was the only possible end result. It doesn't matter if it was a twist or if it was the butler all along, it just matters that you believe that it was the only option.
Modern police procedurals in many ways are our current myths. Often they're the most popular shows on television, be it CSI or NYPD Blue, and they always have characteristics that are similar to classic myths.
The modern Achilles', all rage and power, hamstrung by pride. That describes so many of the most compelling police characters in television.
I hate the ideals that they put forth, and the assumption that police are necessary or that their tactics are just, but I can't help but love the stories.
So there it is. I love my procedural dramas, no matter how prejiduced and misinforming they are, because they're an avenue for telling stories that are comfortably the same, but which differ Just enough.
I love Ashes to Ashes, and Law and Order, and Castle, and a few new ones that are coming up. I love the way the stories fit together so well, and the consistencies and inconsistencies. It's fun to second guess the writers. It's fun to see the interpersonal relations. No mater what I think about the faulty morals that these shows espouse to a largely influencable public, I can't get past how good the stories are.
I don't like violence but I love Achilles, and Cuchulain. I don't like police, but I love detective fiction. I can't get enough of Philip Marlowe, and Sam Spade. I can't get enough of Seely Booth and Temperance Brenan. It's tricky, balancing my dislike of the attitudes these myths may be strengthening in us and what wonderful stories they are.
Who am I
I'm sure it's been noticed, but I have a tendency to be a little long winded. In my responses to people and my statements about things, I tend to speak over the necessary length. I tend to feel that more details are necessary than everyone else seems to. I'm not sure what to make of that.
Something else as of late that's been coming to my attention more and more, is how literal I've become. I take so many things literally, and I just don't catch nuance the way I used to. I don't know why that is. Perhaps since I haven't as many things going on in my head the track that once was devoted to nuance is no longer active.
It's hard to figure out, and I'm not worried enough about it to do some serious exploration, but I have been taking things very literally far too often lately. Of course some of this is based on my bandmates tendency to over generalise and a few of his verbal quirks.
The way we interact with others tells us so much.
This is entirely unrelated, but I'm not sure what to refer to myself as. Labels never seem to work quite right. Of course I'm bipolar, but that doesn't quite cover it, and then there's the bisexual bit, but that also doesn't do it. If we add in the musician bit, I'm still not covered, and then we add the writer bit (and I call myself a writer because I write ever day, and try to produce something). That also falls short. So we can go with more general terms, such as Californian, but I'm not like the most of the rest of California, having been from the far north of the state. I also am not like most estado unidensens. I lived in Japan when I was little, but I'm not Japanese. So perhaps we can define me by some heritage aspect. So I'm English, French, German, Chezch and Irish. None of those quite cover it either.
The fact is I can't figure out how to quantify myself. Anytime I've tried to really figure out who I am, I've come up short. Usually I don't bother with the labels and generalisations, but they work well as an example of not fitting into the mould. Of course no one really does, but some fit better than others. The point is that I can't figure out who I am.
I've been trying for a while and the complex answer hasn't gotten any clearer. I'm ok with having a difficult answer to the question, I'm not as ok with having no answer. One would hope that having been in so many situations would give one more data about how I react to situations. It hasn't I've been in the worst and the best of much of human existence, and yet I don't have any idea who I am because some of that worst and best was part of me and some of it was whatever malady I'm suffering from.
Just the role of drugs in my life is a difficult thing to figure out.
I Just sort of want to know who I am. And I don't yet.
Something else as of late that's been coming to my attention more and more, is how literal I've become. I take so many things literally, and I just don't catch nuance the way I used to. I don't know why that is. Perhaps since I haven't as many things going on in my head the track that once was devoted to nuance is no longer active.
It's hard to figure out, and I'm not worried enough about it to do some serious exploration, but I have been taking things very literally far too often lately. Of course some of this is based on my bandmates tendency to over generalise and a few of his verbal quirks.
The way we interact with others tells us so much.
This is entirely unrelated, but I'm not sure what to refer to myself as. Labels never seem to work quite right. Of course I'm bipolar, but that doesn't quite cover it, and then there's the bisexual bit, but that also doesn't do it. If we add in the musician bit, I'm still not covered, and then we add the writer bit (and I call myself a writer because I write ever day, and try to produce something). That also falls short. So we can go with more general terms, such as Californian, but I'm not like the most of the rest of California, having been from the far north of the state. I also am not like most estado unidensens. I lived in Japan when I was little, but I'm not Japanese. So perhaps we can define me by some heritage aspect. So I'm English, French, German, Chezch and Irish. None of those quite cover it either.
The fact is I can't figure out how to quantify myself. Anytime I've tried to really figure out who I am, I've come up short. Usually I don't bother with the labels and generalisations, but they work well as an example of not fitting into the mould. Of course no one really does, but some fit better than others. The point is that I can't figure out who I am.
I've been trying for a while and the complex answer hasn't gotten any clearer. I'm ok with having a difficult answer to the question, I'm not as ok with having no answer. One would hope that having been in so many situations would give one more data about how I react to situations. It hasn't I've been in the worst and the best of much of human existence, and yet I don't have any idea who I am because some of that worst and best was part of me and some of it was whatever malady I'm suffering from.
Just the role of drugs in my life is a difficult thing to figure out.
I Just sort of want to know who I am. And I don't yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
