Thinking beyond yourself

Ever have a night that you think too much?

I think I'm tired of living. I'm tired of breathing, eating, waking, sleeping... all the stuff that is about surviving and not about surviving. Maybe I need a vacation or a change of scenery or something... Maybe I just haven't found a place of content, a place of belonging, a place where I fit. Maybe there isn't a place. Maybe I need to change my thinking. Maybe I need to peel back the layers I've added over time to my scope of perceptions. Maybe I need to alter the patterns I've created for reasons I can't recall.

Why did I think about this? Babies and happiness. Money comes and goes, as does all material resources, but caring and the continuation of life... that's what we do with or without happiness, but the rewards are usually sweeter than not. And no more babies for me... because I'm in a place where I feel... like not.

Maybe I just need to get on a bike and ride somewhere, away from cars. I don't like bike rides waiting for disaster at someone else's hands... or wheels.

Monsters

I've been trying to wrap my head around the professor of question of late.

I was also wondering where all the monster stories, fables and legends come from. Most likely parents trying to scare their children into obeying them. "Listen to your father. Don't go into the dark woods or baba yaga will get you and eat your heart!"

I was tempted into monstering a child to bed the other night. "Stay in bed or the spiders will come out. Spiders only attack children who are awake at bedtime. They are completely harmless towards good little sleeping children..." But I did not.

Anyways, what starts as a harmless story to get children's attention turns into a mythos that gets passed on through generations and takes on a realism. Thanks to some story, now we have goth kids that wear bat rings and get weird tattos and hang out all gothy in the malls. They are sooooo undead and scary, I think I will respect them and their dark ways... in the mall...

But what lays in the realm of perversions? Where did these grains of seediness come from? What would cause a grown adult to tie up children? Sure, cowboys and indian films... boy scout knots... one's own feelings of being trapped at a younger age, a psychosis of keeping deep laden secrets... But how could one project those perverse inflictions upon a trusting youth. A corruption bordering on sexual predation?

Then I must confront myself. Feelings of never allowing myself to trust such a person, if found guilty. Never accepting apologies and such. Yet I have allowed other people of other crimes a second chance. Why can I accept the "recovery" of one monster and yet not another? I am a hypocrite, or atleast, someone who has not defined the black and white of crime in my mind.

Today, soon to be tomorrow and then last week

Nearly ten hours of sleep for the past two nights.

Happy camper, I am.

My world does seem smaller. Not because of the sleep, because of what I've seen lately. Nothing like a little broadening of the horizons to stretch out the mind's eye of the possibilities.

With that said, there may be a trip to Colorado taking place in August.

edit: And just like that, it all changes. Like a flood of water washing all the pebbles down the stream. Suddenly, AdMom wants BioMom and friend to go to Tennessee in August to go to a cabin. I'm the carryon baggage of this trip... except I've been offered to chauffuer the trip... Hmmmm... nothing like doing all the work to make everyone else happy... that's what I do... ugh.

selfishly fishy

So, I've never shyed away from being selfish. I love time to myself and retreating from the glare of the world. Hiding in my own shadow so to speak. But last night I did something I rarely ever do. I tried to be gratious. It seemed to cause a bad reaction.

Let me retrace my steps for a better comprehension of where I've travelled from.

Back in the day, my formative years if you will, my parents bought a condo in Colorado. I thought that was the coolest thing ever. We were truly upscale or rich or something owning a condo in a ski resort. Long story short, it was awful. It was a money pit and it took my parents nearly ten years not to sale the thing away but to just give it away with no compensation. I'm not sure how much money that sinkhole cost my parents, and I hope I never will. It caused them great anguish, financially. Add to that, my grand parents had all their saving in a bank that closed, without FDIC, in the late 80s. They had to sale the only house they'd lived in in Lincoln and downsized to a two-bedroom bungalow. That's probably all they needed, but their hopes and their pride seemed hurt by the scandal. They'd hoped to pass on more to their kids and ended up needing help from them.

These and other things led me to believe people are greedy. In a way that hurts people. I try to do things that don't benefit me, as a result. I try to do things that are not necessarily selfless, but not self-gaining. I've never wanted to be rich because I'd feel bad for the poor. I've never been one to take at another's expense. I've never been the first to take when others were in need. While that in no way helps in the long run, it's just the way I am. And yes, looking back at my comments, never is a strong word. I'm sure I've done plenty that would seem hypocritical. But not subconsciously... or wait... my psychology fails me.

Hmmm... I've been interupted so many times in this composition that I can't keep my scattered thoughts in line more or less than usual.

I think I was going to comment on why I don't strive. I don't want to be greedy, to have more than the have nots. I don't want to even feel better than anyone else. Some people would say I don't have goals or think I am crazy because I'm not trying to be better. I guess I don't feel the need to need more than what I have.

So, there I was. I thought I'd be friendly and do what I've seen and had other people do for me. I bought a round, a drink, for all my friends, a la le barfly. What I got in return was not a smiley gesture of appreciation. I had put upon a feeling of guilt on them. Like now they felt indebted to me. There were no happy faces. There were no good tidings. There were hectic offers of compensation or some sort of attempt at re-acquiring equilibrium. All I was trying to do was save some time, pay the tab and head out the door. Instead, I feel like I've tilted the balance of freedom and somehow my friends feel less free. I've tipped the scale and now there's something. A pay back weight sitting on the scale. A thing I didn't intend to place, but they sense it's there. This is why I rarely give compliments, give favors or do good deeds. I don't care about the return, but some people feel their lives are not even until the field is even. I just don't understand interactions sometimes because I care not for what some do.

Well, I've lost the train, it's off the tracks. The conductor has quit and I have no one to get my message to the station. I will stop for now and continue on with other inklings at a later date.

Say or no say, that's all I have said

I guess I'll have to do something before I can talk about it.

Write what you know.

All I know is that the price of stamps is going up again.

Just another day

I celebrated cinco de mayo yesterday...

Today will be my quatro de mayo instead.

Sorry about leaving a may day basket on Saturday. I was in a hurry, had a couple left over that didn't fit so I left them. Maybe plain sight isn't the best place for them.

I will try to be more contemplative and thought provoking tomorrow... on ciete de mayo... my ability to read and write spanish is imaginary.

I quitted

Went on a ride to Beneto yesterday. I was feeling frisky. I can't believe Mr. I Broke My Ribs Three Weeks Ago was out on the highway. WOW!

After reading Cornbread's and MG's descriptions of TI, I had a thought that maybe, just maybe, I could do something similar, on about a third of the scale.

While I was feeling good, I pushed from group to group, then from rider to rider. I was thinking, "Yeah, I can catch the tete before they get to Kabredelo's, or whatever it's called." Heading up the last hill I saw the distance, felt the wind, heard my legs yelling from outsaddling for two minutes... just shut'er down. A few moments later I saw the front runners had drastically taken their feet off the pedals, so to speak. I could have dug a little deeper and matched them, but then again, they could have looked back, hit a notch and laughed at me.

Oh well, no reason to push beyond on a recovery ride... eventhough the only thing I'm recovering from today is a little hit on my wallet from last night. Oh well, "That's what money is for..." as my grandma used to say when she'd spoil me just a little bit... or a lot.