harold_maude's journal

Thoughts on play

# 30671

In this very grown up world that we find ourselves in, there is an expectaion that permeates most everything that hits the eyes and ears as you move about in daily life, that one should be this or that and if you haven't begun your career by a certian time in life than you are wasting time.

As the information age morphs more and more into something that resembles an asembly line for uniformity, the loss of childhood and the freedom of play takes out younger and younger individuals as time goes by.

Children are pushed to be adults faster and faster, and as they are thoes who are at the far end of the aging scale are viewed as having less and less value.

The clothes, the toys everything is designed to shape the next generation into sheep who will be enslaved to the uniform way of life.

The other day at work, I decited to be superwoman. Everyone at work, without fail missed the humor of the decision.
I wanted to put on the tights and cape and boots and walk around for the day being superwoman.
I got tired of being expected to be this together in control fix everything person.
I wanted to have play time.
One woman replied to my decision with this response "Well if you get everything done you have to do."
She missed the point completely.
I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and ask her when was the last time she decited to be something different, even for a day.

I finally explained to one of my co-workers my thoughts on being superwoman and she started laughing because her view of me is that I'm eccentric and that's about my speed.
I don't know if she realized that laughter is about the best revenge against feeling like your being swallowed up by the pressures of modern living that there is.

It was a wonderful day. I got off work full of energy and it was then that I made the decision that I need to enter that world of play more especially when the world screams at me "Be this or be that, and do your job!"

I'm sure by now that it's clear how I feel about corporations and how dehumanizing they are at the heart of things.
I can't blow them up or make them go away, but I can listen to the beat of the drum that calls me.
It says "slide" Just like the penguin in Fight Club...

I wish everyone, everywhere would take one day off of being so bound and gaged by the pressures of the world and play.
I'm not talking about going on vacation or going out somewhere or even spending any money.
I'm talking about taking a break from the box. Be something wonderful today or tomorrow. Be silly. Be stupid. Be goofy and laugh. Give your self permission to be a kid and play.
It's ok. The only thing it will cost you is a break away from the stress you normally live your life in...

Monday morning

# 30546

In the early morning hours, when the stars are still visible, my day begins.
This morning I turned off the alarm and crawled back to bed.
Not a normal activity when the alarm is involved.

The alarm means that someone is working and so I get up and start the day by doing something completely relaxing.

I was the driver this morning and that means that the day off isn't a day off in so many words, but has work attached to it.

I was dreaming that I had made dinner and everything was ready and people in my dream were upset because the food I was making was late.

I wanted it to be perfect. But no matter what I did, it wasn't, even though it actually was. The people who were going to eat it complained insessently about it.
Everything was done to perfection and because it was a few minuets late it was no longer perfect.

That's what I woke up to as the alarm went off. I was still dreaming when I turned off the alarm, and still dreaming when I got back into bed.

I fought to wake up, and ended up getting up a half hour later than normal. It wasn't a restful time.
In fact it was extreemly uncomfortable.

I've been thinking over the last few days that I seem to be angry underneath all the time now. Everything makes me angry and I don't know why.
I've thought about any possible reasons and there are quite a few that could be the underlaying cause.

But more than anything I realized I don't like to be in a constant state of anger.
So I'm looking for a way to get rid of it.

Tonight won't help, someone is comming over to visit for a while and this person I have no use for.
They drive me nuts, but other people here enjoy the dumb blonde mindset of this person.
That's ment as no offense to any blondes out there.

This person is truely a dumb blonde. They are under the impression that you can see hawaii from california.
They also belive that the word gulible is a made up word, and that it's okay to be a tease all the time.

I could deal with it for a long time, but after awhile it got old and annoying.
I understand this person is just 20 years old and there are some 20 year olds that you meet that you expect a box of pampers to be somewhere in their possession.
But their generally not the type of person I enjoy hanging out with. I don't have anything to talk to them about,
and playing drinking games until you puke is not high on my list of entertaining things to do.

They are generally just a step above the type of people of roughly the same age group who are still doing the same dumb stuff as they were doing when they were first in highschool, like trying to get someone to pretend they are a parent and making a phone call so that they can stay out later than 9:30 pm.

We had a group of that last group show up out here at the farm a few weeks ago. They came with a couple of people that Kevin works with.
A friend of ours was out here when the group got here.
I stayed in the room about three minuets. The friend who was here stayed in the room about 5 minuets, and then decited to leave because these three brain dead people who were of the group I just discribed above were making her angry too.

Then kevin gets this bright idea to ask me if we can open one of the bottles of wine that a friend of ours made, and he's all excited, and I'm thinking " how stupid are you"
I looked at him and said no. These three girls were obviously under age, and brain dead and touble from the word go.

I got more and more pissed off. I came down stairs and sat down to write in my journal to calm down, and I'm getting more and more pissed off and am about to not be in control anymore and fly up the stair and bodily throw these three people out.
They are up stairs being stupid and trying to talk kevin into buying them beer.

These three get into some kind of stupid argument and decide to leave. I'm greatful at this point because I would hate to go to jail for what I'm wanting to do.

I find that kind of anger rising up alot lately, and tonight it may end up that I spend most of the night down here.
I have to find a way to get rid of the anger.

There is something that has occured to me on several occasions that may be ultimately what's going on.
I have this...gift, and I call it a gift, because it's designed to give me insight as to how to help people who are hurting.
They show up when they are in pain, or near death or have lost someone and are grieving.
In the right situations it has allowed me to be a support and a help.

But at the same time, I have to watch myself so as not to take on what other people are feeling. This gift allows me to see things about people, good or bad. Not everything. It's not that extensive. I've met one person with the same gift who it was extreemly devloped in and when we talked they made it very clear that they had to be very careful not to let what other people were going through crawl inside of them.
It clouds the vision and takes the ablity to see clearly away.

A couple of the people I'm very close to, have a lot of anger issues, they go deep.
I think I may have taken on their anger. From both people.
Both of these people are male.
And both of them, I can see below the surface of. I see deep wells of frustration in, and no way out.

One of them, the anger is so deep that it scares them. And rightly so.
If not delt with in a safe manner, the people they are angry at would end up in the hospitial or worse.
But they don't know how to deal with it in a safe manner.
And they won't listen to me.

The other person's anger has old roots too, and because of that they live in a world of cinisim and frustraion.
This person knows some of what they need to do, but because of circumstances they are unable to do what they need to do.

I think I have allowed their anger to seep inside me. And it's been going on for quite awhile now, and I don't know how to plug up the holes where it's getting in.

When it hits areas that are in process of healing in me, ones that at one point were filled with rage, they trigger old ghosts of mine.
For a long time in my life I lived in a state of repressed rage.
This rage would surface now and again, and when I was aware of what was going on, I wasn't a pleasant person to be around.

I remember one particular incident in highschool that scared both me and this girl who was the cause of the trouble.
She was my locker partner.
I bought the lock and she lost her key. Insead of comming and finding me so that I could open the lock, she had the janitor saw the lock off.
I found out. I hunted her down. I found her in one of the class rooms that was on the second floor of one of the buildings.
I picked her up by her shirt, slammed her against the wall and got in her face and told her if the lock wasn't replaced by morning she would go out the window head first.
I wasn't kidding, and because I tend to keep my word, even back then, she knew I would do it.
I remember her shaking and the terror in her eyes.
In the morning there was a new lock. She came and found me and with many appoligies she gave me the other key.
After that she stayed out of my way.

After many years of dealing with many types of coping mechinisms that allowed me to function, I got rid of my rage. I couldn't live with it anymore.
It was so violent that I remember wanting to take this girl that I hated and tie a rope around her neck and then go for a drive on the freeway for a while, at least until she was in seveal parts.

It was shortly after comming to terms with that understanding that I was truely capable of that kind of hate, that I made the decision that the anger had to die.
I couldn't live with it anymore. It was killing me inside.

I spent a night wrestling and praying and crying and dealing with the want for the rage to die.
The next morning, I felt different. Lighter, and more importantly free.

That was almost two years ago. Now this. There are things about my job that frustrate me, and make me mad.
But that's work, and at the end of the day I can walk away from thoes things, and I've made it a point to take on the mindset that when I'm not at work, I'm not at work.
I've thought long and hard about the things that are work related that have that effect on me, and there is nothing that makes any sign of rage rise up.

But what's been happening lately is that I feel this ugly anger rising up and it feels forigen, like it's not related to me even though it takes hold of me and makes me want to do the same kind of damage that I was capable of doing before.
I have to figure out a way of seperating myself from it so that I can be ok, and that I don't end up hurting anyone.

Funny thing, if I did end up being consumed by it now, I would end up hurting myself, to protect thoes people who are closest to me.
Anyway, that's about all for the moment....hopefully I can figure this thing out and soon.
I'm in pain because of it, and I don't like being in this kind of pain. It sucks.

The smell of money is

94% | 6

# 30394

Says one to the other, "Next year I'll have enough money saved to go on that vacation I've been promising my family for years"
Says the other "That will be wonderful."

The next day the first one on his way to work spies a car he's been in love with since highschool.
He cannot resist. And it takes all the money he has and more.
At that moment he has enslaved him self to two things, and given much more away than just a vacation.

He has given away part of his life to fulfill a want that should maybe have been left in highschool.

The next day, his wife and children are killed while driving to the market to buy food. They had been talking about where the ideal vacation would be. You see he had told his family that next year there would be enough money saved for them to take a real vacation and there would be no work attached to it, like the other "vactions" over the years where the cover for a few days here and there was that it was connected to business.
The driver who hit them was a business man in too much of a hurry and too busy talking on a cell phone.
He was discussing the next violent take over of the company the man worked for.

And in the dark shadows the monster grins, and rubs it's bony hands together.
And eats another and more. Death to all who oppose it, it knows what it has taken...it smells of money..

He hadn't figured out how to tell them about the car, and after buying it, was having regrets and trying to decide which was more important, the promise he had made to them or his own desire that hadn't died since he first saw that car.

Now it was too late. The car which he gave their vacation up for now represented so many terrible things. Each one was pre-empted by the faces of thoes he loved.
Now they were gone.

He hated that car now. How selfish he had been.

Too late.

The smell of money, the lure of it...that's where this all started. Thinking about corporate things. How it promises much and delivers only a shadow that is vacant when you get close enough. It enslaves you than robs you of yourself and your freedom. It is a selfish whore who eats humans and spits out bitter withered bags of bones.
Nothing left but to burry them all.

So it is with the man who gave it all to have something that made an illusionary promise in highschool. That he would be admired and wanted. That he would be cool.
It took from thoes he loved, and then he lost more.

All that is left, is the shell of a man. Alone. Given a few days to take care of business, and then is expected to return to work and perform so that the company makes more profit. More money.
If the man cannot do his job efficently he will be fired. There will always be another body to replace him.
The corporate world doesn't care if you face death, or loss.
The only thing it wants from you is your life's blood. That smells like money to the corporate world.

It loves eating humans. It gets fat off our lives and then when we are too old to be of use it disgards us.

The man sits at the bar. The first one says to the second, "I have nothing left, except bills, and a car that I hate. My bed is cold and the laughter of my children haunt me.
The company I work for is about to be taken over, and I'm about to loose my job. How much more can I loose?"

Says the second man to the first "Things may get better, you never know. You put in a lot of loyal service to the company, and they have to reconize that....don't they"

Meanwhile, in a plush office there sits another man who looks over the lists of empolyees of the company that is about to be aquired and sees the man who has lost the most important things in the world. Sees how old he is, and writes these words over the top "Although he is very skilled his age is an impediment to our sucess, we are interested only in someone younger who has these same skills. He will not be rehired."

...somewhere in the dark shadows the creature laughs...

Tis the seaon....

# 30378

Hopefully this will post. We've been having major problems with the computer and getting it do what it's suppose to.
It's just a machine after all.

Sometimes it acts almost human.

So here we are. Christmas in just a few days and then it will be New Years and all in a rushed few days.
Someone asked me if I was ready for Christmas today and my answer was whether I'm ready or not it will come. And how do you prepare for something that should be all year long?

Somewhere what it's suppose to mean got lost amid the turkeys and toys.
The idea of Christmas which I believe to be about giving of yourself without thought of yourself should be practiced all year long.
It doesn't need bright colored ribbons or lights or decorations to turn it on.
It should be there. All year.

Think about this: Everytime you do something for someone else your celebrating Christmas. A smile. Holding the door open for someone.
Talking to someone who is hurting and trying to comfort them.
Visiting someone who is alone. Baking cookies or anything and then give them away, just because, your celebrating Christmas.

When someone is ugly to you and you just let it slide, realizing that where they are is maybe just having a crappy day, you've just celebrated Christmas.

Every time you do something for someone else and don't think about you or what it's going to cost you, you celebrate Christmas.

So the next time you feel that by spending a ton of money or wearing your self out because you having finished your Christmas shopping, be kind to yourself. It's not about the money you spend, it's not about buying the perfect thing.
That's something else entirely, and somewhere along the line we forgot.

We get bitchy, and impatient and ugly and spend the holidays making the rounds, fullfilling obligations and hating the rushing around like crazy people, and we overload ourselves so much that we can't even begin to relax and enjoy the day.

I love the lights. I would leave lights up all year if this was our house and we owned it.
I would have strings going everywhere. Through the trees and decorations from every holiday up everywhere. I think their pretty.
But they don't make the holiday for me.

What made it for me this year was a couple of kids that come to class on Saturday morning and their smiles and the hug I got from the 4 year old.
They gave me a card that I will keep forever. It's an awesome treasure.
They said that I was a wonderful artist, and that I was a kind person and that they loved comming to the class.
It blew me away that they would give me this treasure.
How do you find that on a shelf? You can't.

That made my whole holiday season. I don't know if I will ever be able to tell them how it made me feel or that it made me cry and still does.

Over the years I've been given awesome gifts like that. They are the one's I remember. The pottery my kids made me when they were in grade school. The coupons for different things. I never had the heart to spend them, they were too special.
And the smiles and laughter, and the hugs.

The last Christmas my dad was alive. It was the first time we all were together that no one was fighting. Making decorations with my kids out of this and that.

The smell of the first snow, and pine trees.

And some not so pleasant memories. Setting my hair on fire accidently on Christmas morning because I didn't know your suppose to light the match and then turn on the gas in the fireplace of a place we were staying at. Having very little to eat and later that day having to drive myself to the emergancy room because there was a huge hole in my stomach.
And finding out I needed emergancy surgery, and being terrified that I wouldn't wake up from it.
Praying with a stranger for strength, and then waking up and the terrible days after, having no money, and being labled indegent by design.

That was just a year ago. Seems longer than that.
I will never forget thoes feelings and how alone and terrified I felt, and how cold my caregivers were.
When I think about it, I know that there were people who slept outside under bridges on that Christmas, or in tents, or wrapped in newspaper.
They were alone too. I wish I could have been able to take them in and I still do.
I wish we owned this property. I would have a place that's safe for them to be. And warmth and food too.
And great company, and it would be an awesome Christmas.
Maybe someday that will happen.

I can dream until then.

The time between

# 30255

When the alarm goes off, there is a door that is slamed shut.
But it's still there. The lovely place of sleep.

Sometimes it seems that time slows and our perception of things shifts and bends and seconds take hours.
So it would seem. Maybe what's happening is that you've just entered into a twilight type zone of the waking world.

Sort of a hypnotic place of going through the motions, but never really being able to recount much of the day. A few highlights maybe, the same kind of thing as when we dream while we're alseep.

It would be interesting to find out if our brain waves are the same in both situations, and if this is what we experience in the waking type state of sleep that we fall into on some kind of regular basis, than maybe that would explain some of the experiences of thoes who loose time if you will.
Only in the people who are not so fratured the memories of the passage of time would be something they were aware of.

People who are fractured, i.e personality disorders, would more than likely not remember the times of waking dreams because they comparmentalize their experiences.
Somthing triggers something with an unusally strong bad feeling association to it, and the main person or the most constant personality of the fracture, the whole, if you will, or the house that contains much...
And the response is to retreat. Then the fracture surfaces, and takes over, and responds.
It could be looked at like a job where each fracture, or personality, takes a shift, and has a schedual according to the triggers.

The triggers are made note of at the time of the event. Our senses take it all in. Our brain which is the fastest computer on the face of the earth, records and stores everything.

Example: You smell something. It's sweet, and somehow familiar. But you can't put your finger on what it is. As you smell it, you begin to feel happy, but don't know why.
You feel comfort, and safe, at least you regester it, at least for a moment or two.
But what the smell is you can't define.

It's something your mind has on record. Maybe before your earliest memory you were in a garden where there were beautiful flowers and your parents were there and they were happy, and you came up to some pretty flowers that smelled so wonderful.
Everything about this is able to surface because of a single smell.
You don't remember the incident, but your mind does. It reacts to everything your senses records, and responds.

If we activly use only 10% of our brain, what is the other 90% doing?

What of de javu? I can't figure out how to remember to spell that word...
I wish there were a better word for it. The only time I've ever experienced anything to close to how it's been discribed to me is when I'm between the doors of waking and asleep.
That's when all the familiar things come back. Then they vanish.

And what about all thoes people who have memories of living at a different time?

The only thing that makes resonable sense is that what is going on in the other 90% would blow us away if we were able to see it all.

If we are made of star stuff, and we are energy housed in ever changing bodies, and they are only held together along with everything else that exists, by mear thought, and collective thought, it would seem reasonable that every cell in our bodies and every thought in our mind contains all the memories of everyone who has ever been here.

Maybe sometimes they surface, through all the layers, through all the confusion and order of our currant waking thoughts.

Maybe what's going on in our dreams, both waking and sleeping, is activity with in the other 90%.
That would be an expaination of why sometimes we have flying dreams, and when we wake up we are exausted.
It takes alot of energy to fly. Especially when the bones of the human body are so dense.

It would also explain why there are other experences we have that make us wonder.

Maybe, just maybe, we carry some of that back to the waking world of only 10% activity.

Maybe that's where brilliant human thought comes from.

...it all sounds so clinical. I guess I'm in one of thoes moments of overload...
well, maybe more than just a moment.

Over flows into the waking world

?% | 1

# 30177

When bits of my dreams are so real that it makes me ask those who are awake if certian things happen, when I do come fully awake, I ususally feel a bit shaken.

This afternoon was no exception. Everything in my dream was in vivid color. Brilliant and real. What woke me was the sound and glimps of a man walking behind me and away from me. I was asleep and I saw and heard him.
My eyes poped open and I sat straight up. There was no one there. A few minuets earlier, as I found out, there had been someone there walking behind me and out the back door.

In my dream the house we are in was elongated sideways but when you looked at it, it was elongated from front to back.
An optical illusion for the mind, I think would be the best description.
We had somehow turned all the walls into gallery walls and every creative work I've ever done was there.
Some of the things, like the quilts, were folded and stacked on chairs.
The lighting was so bad on the main floor and the basement was all dirt on the floor and there was old lumber strewn about.
The beams that held the upper floors up were rotting.

It was hard to see the art on the walls where the lighting was bad, but everything was framed and behind glass.
The frames were very ornate.

There were two women trying to go through the basement to see the art in the darkest corners of the room, and they kept tripping over boards, and then I fell asleep in my dream.

I woke to find someone I work with waking me up and telling me that I needed to get up, and finish hanging up the art.
But all the room on all the walls were filled.
I asked her if the man who wanted to take the art class and because he was the only one, the class didn't go, was angry.

She said no as she began to unfold the quilts and hang them from the ceiling.
That's when I heard the man behind me.

As I think about it, I think the whole dream has to do with the stress I'm feeling most of the time. Everything seems like it's never enough, no matter how much I do.
It's kind of like having sheets on your bed that are three sizes too small.
All the time. There is no break. No way to catch my breath. No way to stop the feelings of falling so short.

I've tried. But it always ends up not enough. I wonder if the feelings of my father have come to settle on me.
That no matter what I did, or where I went, it would never be good enough.

Some days I feel like I'm being chased by wild dogs. Some days I wake up feeling like I'm being smothered.
It takes a while to get my self in gear so that I can go to work, or even do things around here.
I would love to find a key that would stop the feelings.

Another weird thing has been happening lately. I will turn the oven on to a certian tempature, and walk away, and no one goes near it, but when the time for what ever to be done, and go to take it out the temprature has been changed. Either lowered or highered.
No one has been anywhere close to the oven. I think we have a ghost or two in this house. I think they have been here a while and are just getting bold about the things they do.

The foundation was laid in 1909, and kevin found papers in the wall from 1923, and this farm has seen it's share of death. Unnessary death.
Like the sheep that someone tried to raise and neglected and the lambs got wet tail and started dying and then the adults got sick and then there had to be bon fires to take care of the dead bodies.

Just down the road, or up the road is a house. There has been at least two people who have commited sucide there. Maybe it's just some dead people passing through here who like to mess with things.

Maybe it's all nothing, or maybe it's all connected. I don't know. I know I feel at home here. And I love this farm. Maybe some things are comming back. Like doing things and not remembering. I hope that isn't happening. Out here it could be bad if that's what's going on.
One thing is sure, that sooner or later the answer will come.
Answers to why my dreams have been like the one today, why I wake up feeling like I do, and why the oven temprature changes on it's own. It just started doing this a couple of days ago. The oven is only a few years old and the nobs take a bit to turn them.

Anyway....I think I'm just really really stressed out. And too tired to do anything about anything.


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