2.5.11

If every blog I started began with “Life changes” I think I'd start to feel like I was beating a dead horse. Then I could start saying, “The more it changes, the more it stays the same” and more of those lovely fucking phrases we like to throw about like rice at a wedding.

Do they still do that?

But anyway, the truth is I mostly blog when there's some big fuckin' event that sends my little ass spinning down the rabbit hole, clad in that familiar blue and white (to help push the comparison along). And life does change, even if it changes back to something in a slightly different form with the same hairstyle but different color. Life events seem for me to feel like a Salvador Dali film. I'm never really quite sure what I'm looking at right after I watch it, and all my thoughts and emotions seem far away and dream-like. It takes a good deal of time for me to pull meaning and sense from the splashes of images my fading memory slowly puts back together like a badly configured puzzle that comes with a pair of scissors.

Reflection is kind of like an art in that way. Subjectivity pulled from subjectively experienced occurrences. You think there's a right way to go about it, so you start to place piece after piece next to each other, but soon find there are certain parts that are just too small, or is a square instead of a semi-circle. To make matters worse, the puzzle is a copy of a Hans Hoffman painting, and it's one where you don't really remember what it looks like. So you have to improvise. It's your own Hoffman painting, uniquely tailored to your satisfaction.

Which is the trouble, isn't it? It isn't always about your own satisfaction, but at the same time, sometimes it must be. Definitions, definitions, what kind of damn satisfaction are we talking about? Just because the Rolling Stones can't seem to find it doesn't mean I can't. And here we find the balance between ego satisfaction and what is really needed to be happy.

Tricky, tricky. So it seems! It's not really, but we like to make it seem it is. Understandably so, our schedules and our patterns are of great comfort to habitual creatures like us. Simplicity underscores most of our experiences, I think, but it's simplicity that is the most easily disguised.

All of his is very convoluted (how ironic) and vague. But, the details will remain with me for a time, and I'll simply leave you with abstract philosophizing for you to ponder or to read and wonder what the hell I'm on about.