I mean, I can only write what I write, eh?
Sometimes I manufacture an internal pressure based on expectation that I should be writing ‘better’ or creating content more poignant, meaningful, entertaining.
But all I can do is reflect on my life.
So what if it’s not world changing, spectacular, of pristine quality? None of that is me, anyway. I’m just an ordinary guy making my way through life, taking it as it comes. Definitely not plotted out or polished.
Much of my time is spent just trying to deal with the challenges - physical, emotional, mental and circumstantial - that life presents me. As I am sure you know, and probably concur, it’s a full time job.
On top of all that administrative dealing - between the gaps, when I can, when I am able to/compelled to - I cruise into Creativille and check out what’s happening. Do a little composition, splash some paint around or play with some MIDI note sequencing.
This is my escape, my salvation. Getting into creative projects is one of my main sources of soothing distraction, uplifting hullabaloo, temporarily elevating salvation.
I know that in the long run none of it will mean anything - but what are you going to do? Lay down and die? Eventually, yes. But until then? Gotta do something. Everyone finds their thing(s), eventually.
Much of a life is just a reaction to what has happened already. Our childhoods - the time when we are least equipped to understand, adequately deal with complex emotions and demanding situations - is when reality comes crashing in and often overwhelms us. With our resilient, hopeful, naive little minds we do our best to makes sense of things and deal with what comes.
From when we hit our teens we begin to form our identities more succinctly and formulate through trial and error, instinct and deep consideration, contemplation strategies to carry us forward into the expansive unknown called our futures.
The thing is that much of what has happened, occurred during our early years is so random and essentially indecipherable that our young selves are not really capable of fully or properly resolving things. Of course, we do our best, but it’s a rare person who does not transition our of youth with a bevy of skewed perceptions, phobias and emotion packed time bombs that will have to be unpicked and disarmed over the next few decades.
On top of all this, there will be the ongoing, surging flow of incidents and accidents across the spectrum from delectable to horrific that will require thought, attention and action.
Essentially, we are not properly equipped. It’s a loaded game.
Sure, there are times of relief, chill, uplifting. Life can treat us royally for a time, as well.
Undoubtably, there is some magic, mystery, romance. Hopefully, the balance tips in favour of the positive. But some days, some weeks, some years - it’s difficult to believe this.
This is all just my perception, but it comes not just from self experience but from observation as well. I try to be accurate in my assessment and intuitive in my understanding of the life experience.
There’s nothing new in what I am talking about but I am not trying to write anything new. I am quite simply attempting to honestly transcribe my sequence of thoughts.
We think of writing, written works as being elevated, illuminating, polished. We read things that are written by people we believe know a little more than we do, can tell us things that will help us on our journeys.
But my writing - it’s not like that. I’m no professor, no expert, no preacher.
I have way more questions than answers. I’m more an off-the-cuff speculator/spectator than a sanctimonious expert. I’m a muddy, ruffled, fellow soldier down the trenches rather than an order-wielding officer acting like I have the answers. It is a war out there (in here) and in a way it’s every man and woman for themselves. (But, thankfully, most of the time - when we most need it, someone else is sometimes there for us.)
Sometimes it feels over the top. Cruel, even. Writing stuff like this helps me come to terms with things - even though I present no resolution, offer no tips or suggestions. If I could, I would. But like I have been saying; I’m no expert.
Like you (maybe), I just make things up as I go along.
Life goes in waves and for me, at the moment, due to a concerted effort in pursuing positive activities and showing behavioural restraint as well as a run of fortune that seems to be close to 50/50 (I’ll take it!), I am feeling mostly able to deal with where things are at. Some days, naturally, feel decidedly more challenging than others but if I consider things - like say this last week for example - I have had more good days than bad.
Is this constant barrage of burdens, small, medium and large, part of some bigger plan? It seems not. Then - why?
I don’t know. I really don’t.
But if I stumble upon anything prophetic, enlightened, if I suddenly become a saviour, a guru or even a more eloquent, informed and incisive writer all of a sudden; I’ll let you know. Until that time, I guess we are both just going to have to make do with this kind of casual confessional/conjecture, this candid, unsophisticated deliberation.
Make the best of what is.
Sometimes I manufacture an internal pressure based on expectation that I should be writing ‘better’ or creating content more poignant, meaningful, entertaining.
But all I can do is reflect on my life.
So what if it’s not world changing, spectacular, of pristine quality? None of that is me, anyway. I’m just an ordinary guy making my way through life, taking it as it comes. Definitely not plotted out or polished.
Much of my time is spent just trying to deal with the challenges - physical, emotional, mental and circumstantial - that life presents me. As I am sure you know, and probably concur, it’s a full time job.
On top of all that administrative dealing - between the gaps, when I can, when I am able to/compelled to - I cruise into Creativille and check out what’s happening. Do a little composition, splash some paint around or play with some MIDI note sequencing.
This is my escape, my salvation. Getting into creative projects is one of my main sources of soothing distraction, uplifting hullabaloo, temporarily elevating salvation.
I know that in the long run none of it will mean anything - but what are you going to do? Lay down and die? Eventually, yes. But until then? Gotta do something. Everyone finds their thing(s), eventually.
Much of a life is just a reaction to what has happened already. Our childhoods - the time when we are least equipped to understand, adequately deal with complex emotions and demanding situations - is when reality comes crashing in and often overwhelms us. With our resilient, hopeful, naive little minds we do our best to makes sense of things and deal with what comes.
From when we hit our teens we begin to form our identities more succinctly and formulate through trial and error, instinct and deep consideration, contemplation strategies to carry us forward into the expansive unknown called our futures.
The thing is that much of what has happened, occurred during our early years is so random and essentially indecipherable that our young selves are not really capable of fully or properly resolving things. Of course, we do our best, but it’s a rare person who does not transition our of youth with a bevy of skewed perceptions, phobias and emotion packed time bombs that will have to be unpicked and disarmed over the next few decades.
On top of all this, there will be the ongoing, surging flow of incidents and accidents across the spectrum from delectable to horrific that will require thought, attention and action.
Essentially, we are not properly equipped. It’s a loaded game.
Sure, there are times of relief, chill, uplifting. Life can treat us royally for a time, as well.
Undoubtably, there is some magic, mystery, romance. Hopefully, the balance tips in favour of the positive. But some days, some weeks, some years - it’s difficult to believe this.
This is all just my perception, but it comes not just from self experience but from observation as well. I try to be accurate in my assessment and intuitive in my understanding of the life experience.
There’s nothing new in what I am talking about but I am not trying to write anything new. I am quite simply attempting to honestly transcribe my sequence of thoughts.
We think of writing, written works as being elevated, illuminating, polished. We read things that are written by people we believe know a little more than we do, can tell us things that will help us on our journeys.
But my writing - it’s not like that. I’m no professor, no expert, no preacher.
I have way more questions than answers. I’m more an off-the-cuff speculator/spectator than a sanctimonious expert. I’m a muddy, ruffled, fellow soldier down the trenches rather than an order-wielding officer acting like I have the answers. It is a war out there (in here) and in a way it’s every man and woman for themselves. (But, thankfully, most of the time - when we most need it, someone else is sometimes there for us.)
Sometimes it feels over the top. Cruel, even. Writing stuff like this helps me come to terms with things - even though I present no resolution, offer no tips or suggestions. If I could, I would. But like I have been saying; I’m no expert.
Like you (maybe), I just make things up as I go along.
Life goes in waves and for me, at the moment, due to a concerted effort in pursuing positive activities and showing behavioural restraint as well as a run of fortune that seems to be close to 50/50 (I’ll take it!), I am feeling mostly able to deal with where things are at. Some days, naturally, feel decidedly more challenging than others but if I consider things - like say this last week for example - I have had more good days than bad.
Is this constant barrage of burdens, small, medium and large, part of some bigger plan? It seems not. Then - why?
I don’t know. I really don’t.
But if I stumble upon anything prophetic, enlightened, if I suddenly become a saviour, a guru or even a more eloquent, informed and incisive writer all of a sudden; I’ll let you know. Until that time, I guess we are both just going to have to make do with this kind of casual confessional/conjecture, this candid, unsophisticated deliberation.
Make the best of what is.
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