harold_maude's journal

The hounds of midnight

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# 28061

He sat watching the clouds passing. The stars were still there as was the moon.
It reminded him of something he'd read so long ago as a child.
A nursery rhyme.
Somthing about a wooden shoe and going to sleep.

Sleep was the last thing on his mind tonight as he felt the place where just a few hours earlier the sharp teeth of a wild dog had been planted.

It still burned. The pain won as he let loose a deep howl. It seemed to catch the animal off gard for just a moment. That was all it took for him to break free and knock the animal away.

Of all things to encounter on a late night walk, a dog was the last thing he expected. It was bigger than most dogs that he had ever seen before.
Even as the dog attacked him, the color of it's eyes burned through him, as though it wasn't interested in his skin and what lay beneath.
In that moment right before the dog bit, he was sure that it wanted the living thing inside him. His soul.

He could still feel the eyes burning through him. That terrifying gaze that held him motionless in time.

Hours passed by. He dozed in and out of jagged sleep, jumping awake, heart pounding so loud he heard it in his head.
Somthing made him believe that the animal would come looking for him. What it was after it hadn't gotten, and so it would find him.
The knock on the door woke him with a start. Sitting straight up but not answering, he could feel the sweat trickling down his forhead.
He looked down at his leg, expecting to see it swollen and red.
But to his amazement there was no sign of the wound.

He must have been dreaming he thought, after examing his leg.
He heard the knocking again, and this time a voice followed.
"Mr. Glass, this is your wake up call, just as you requested."

He answered that he was awake, and heard footsteps walking away.
Was he dreaming? Had he been asleep all night?
It had been so real.

...to be continued as the story unfolds. If anyone would like to continue and take it further before I do, feel free to.

Passages and passing points of interest

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# 28031

In the movie "The runaway bride" there is a conversation between Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in which he asks her, "how do you like your eggs?"

The reference being of course was that she defined who she was by the man who was in her life.
Outside of that, she had no idea who she was or what she wanted.

In life there comes points to which we loose all defintion of who we are, what direction we are going and the question of "is this all there is" generally tends to come up somewhere in the mix.
When a person gets close to or somewhere in their 20's it's often refered to as figuring out what you want to do with your life.
When a person hits their 40's it's refered to as a midlife crisis.

But I tend to think it can happen at any age. Somthing bigger than the ordered world you live in and are surounded by comes along and smashes it all to peices and your left standing there not knowing how to deal with it.
And nothing makes sense, and there is nothing but questions that you can't escape from.

Life crisises. Those wonderful moments when you get to find out how you really like your eggs, or even if you like them at all.
It's easy to and very normal I think to want to try to flood the space with stuff. It's far too painful to look square in the eye and say "ok" to.

Thoes who are fortunate enough to not be able to flood their life with stuff and have to deal with every unrulely emotion that pokes and prods us get to find out tons of stuff about themselves.
What is real, what's crap and what is important.

It doesn't feel like a good thing at the time. In fact outside of a few events that cause a life crisis to occur, it hurts deeper than you can stand most of the time.
Sometimes it feels like life is over and there is no point in going on.

But if a person can get into the mindset that it's ok, and not only ok, but important, then you can survive it.

If you think about it, everything is suddenly moved out of the way and you get to find out about you.
That's something alot of people try to figure out alot of time while their busy doing things that they think will answer that question.

The truth that I've found out it that the only way to get the answer is to not try to fill the space with crap or deversions, but face it, feel it, and find out about you.
The pain is going to be there. And the confusion will pass, and what you have a choice about changing you get the opportuntiy to make the choice whether or not to change.

If you can see it that way, than it's ain't so bad. You get a fresh start in a sense. And get new socks and maybe new shoes too, so to speak.

I'm pretty sure when people go off and do what seems totally nuts to those who love them, that's what's happening.
Their taking their sabatical from "the way things are suppose to be" and going to a place where all the nets are gone, and doing battle with everything inside them.

They may or may not come back. If they do, people tend to say, "you've changed" which is translated, "I'm pissed at you because you were part of my comfort zone and when you left you fucked my world up."

Granted it's not always that way, but it's part of it.

Crisis forces change. Life forces change. It's not static.
Even if we go our whole lifes and there are few life crisises that come, when thoes we love die or leave it happens. It happens, and there is not alot we can do about it.

Except maybe embrace it, and let it do what it's designed to do, help us figure out how we like our eggs.

Passion v.s taking up causes

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# 28008

The really amazing thing about people who are passionate about anything is that it's a part of of their lifestyle.
It's as natural as breathing.
And it's awesome to watch. It's very infectious watching someone who is passionate about something. Makes you want to do something yourself.

Thoes who take up causes on the other hand, seem to be only really functional when they are part of a group,
outside of what ever cause it is, they just seem to wander aimlessly.

They kind of remind me of the mom's you see who have their kids in all kinds of programs and when their not busy running all over the place they belong to every kind of what ever they can.
I wonder if they ever sleep.

Passion feeds the soul. Causes make people overly zealous, and obnoxious.
They are the salesmen that you hide from when they come to your door.
They are the people who get offended when you try to lighten things up a bit.

Passionate people are often a bit eccentric because they view the world through the filter of their passion. That, I do believe makes them far more interesting to hang out with.

There have been times of both in my life. And I have to say without hessitation that when I was involved with a cause, no matter how good the cause, I was exausted all the time.
In the times when I have been lost in my passions I have tons of energy, and can loose all track of time.
I may not get a lot of sleep, but I'm a whole lot happier, and I tend to get things done, and somthing else I've noticed,
people like being around me more when I'm lost in my passions than when I've been caught up in a cause.

Passions stay almost always your whole life, causes simply fade away and become part of your past.
I've met a few people who's passions have become their causes, and they are really different.
In a good way.

On thinking about it all, I think I'd rather live in the mist of my passions any day of the week than in the lastest, most desperate cause that anyone could ever come up with.

On pain, age and other stuff

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# 27851

I woke up this morning, as I do other mornings and found that pain is usually the first thing that greets me after the alarm.
Since, by nature I tend not to lay in bed after the alarm, I get up and my body is not wanting to do what it used to.
It's somthing that I've been dealing with for a while now and it sucks.

The problem with age is that you have all this great stuff, like skills that take years to aquire, patients, the wisdom not to react so fast, stuff like that, and your body is at the point where it doesn't move as fast as you need it to so that you can do as much as you know you should be able to do, or at least think you should.
It sucks.

It's not fair, and I know that life isn't fair. But the things that require time to learn take so much time that by the time your proficciant at them your body is in the state of massive revolution.
But by this time you are so steeped in all this stuff that you can't quit.
You just go forward. And all the time you know that each day makes you one day older in the process and there is only so much time left before you don't win with getting out of bed so easy.

It's the nature of life here on this planet.

Now don't misunderstand me here. I'm the type of person who wants youth back so that I can do it all over again, or the type of person who is freaked out about getting gray hair or wrinkles or whether gravity has it's way or not. Thoes things to me arn't important. They happen.
But fighting my body is a problem.

I'm comforted by the knowledge that my mother who is 86 this year is still incredibly mobile and up until a few months ago was climbing around on step ladders and into things somewhat like a monkey. Her knees have finally stopped her, and the pain in her body that she has fought for years is finally making her slow down.
She still does lots of the creative things she's done for years, but it just takes more time now than it did before.

If I'm doing that good when I get to be 86 it won't be too bad.

There are times I find myself wishing I could go back to be 19 again, but have all the skills and wisdom time gives you, intact.
It would be nice to have that time again with the focus about things I do now.
I wouldn't want the emotional crap I had back then, just the skills I do now.

But time travel of that kind doesn't happen. At least not in real life. So I'm doing the best I can with what I've got,
and hoping when all is said and done, that I will be able to not have any regrets about my life.

The past, the present

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# 27725

Last night a few of us got into an intersting disgussion. The Roman Empire and the similaity of the United States to the Roman Empire when it fell.

The middle class had disapeared, the morals of the women were gone, and only the rich and the poor existed.
The roman empire was at that time in the process of trying to take over the world, and the state of focus was on pleasure.
The economic structure was failing.
It's amazing the similarities.

It seems that every major society that has suffered a collapse has gone through similar events in the process.
Last night wasn't the first time that someone has brought up the subject.
It won't be the last I'm sure.

The difference is how far away from being hunter-gathers each society has been when the collaps occured.
The romans were about two steps away.
We are light years away.
Our technology is so advanced in terms of our being dependant on things rather than on ourselves to survive.
We suffer from a sever lack of patients. Nearly everything is based on how fast it gets to us, and if it goes beyond a certian time frame, then frustration ensues.

When the collaps comes it will be far more devistating than any other collapse before it.
We have basicly put ourselves in a place that the things that will help us survive have become lost to several generations.

A prime example of this is the organic farm. Many, many years ago to farm with out the aid of chemicals or gentics people planted seed, and when it was time to harvest they did.
They had learned how to preserve the harvest from their parents and so it was something that was just part of life.
Today, the organic farm is somewhat of a unique thing, and most people arn't quite sure what the term organicly grown means.

Many children in this country believe that the only place to get real food is from the supermarket or some fast food place.
They have no idea that it comes out of the ground on a farm, and it goes to a processing plant and has things added to it to make it taste a certian way, and if it doesn't taste a certian way, then it's not good to eat.

If their parents grow a garden, and they have to pull weeds they see that as some terrible thing, some kind of punishment.
And would rather be spending their time doing more usefull things like playing video games or going to the mall or riding their bikes, or watching t.v.
For several generations the children growing up have had less and less direction, more and more access to serogate activites and end up as adults asking themselves at one point or another, is this all there is.
We are a nation that is saturated in bordom, and in a constant battle to keep ourselves entertained in one way or another.
We have lost the ablity to survive.

The people who have the most knowledge of survival are the thoes who live in rural areas, and the homeless. We have enslaved ourselves to money.
One way or another it rules this society. And thoes who choose to walk away and live delibertly are an odity.

One of the things that came up last night was a study done by an anthropologist who went into a village to study the habbits of a certian tribe of people.
They hunted, ate, played drums and spent hours laying in hammocs just looking up.
He asked one of the men if they ever got bored. The man had no idea what bordom was.
It was a foriegn idea to the people of the tribe.
They lived life, and knew what their life was and it was good.

Bordom drives alot of people to find things to fill their lives because there is an empty space and they can't figure out why.
We've lost our ablity to survive and exchanged knowing who we are for a wandering state of discontent.

When this society collapes, there will be a kind of madness that the world has only seen in smaller degrees.
People will head for the larger cities where they have come to expect food and jobs are, and no one living in thoes cities will be safe.

When it comes, I want to be as far away from the populated areas as I can. I know some other people who feel the same way.
Maybe we will become a tribe. And once again gain what we've lost.

I don't know how soon it will occur, but it reminds me of Mt. Rainer, it's not a matter of if it will blow, it's a matter of when.

The cycle of things

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# 27694

Things have a way of repeating themselves. The patterns may take on different colorings, but the underlaying pattern is still there.

Sometimes it's hard to reconize the familiar pattern at first because how it looks may be unfamiliar, but what tips you off that it's something familiar is the reconizable feelings that come with it.

Behaivor is a good example of this. If you've ever been observant of people that you know for a while, you can begin to reconize things that are part of a type of signiture of that person.
You can after awhile tell just by looking at them what they are looking for, or if their angry or sad or excited.

And if you continue to observe them you begin to notice even more subtle things that they keep doing over and over.
Like getting excited when they know that someone they like is comming to visit, or if something is comming up they really don't want to do.

It soon feels to that person like you can read their mind, that your on the same wave length as they are.
When in reality they were an object of deep study by you.
This happens between people when one is attracted to another person.

It's often not ment in a harmful way, and very often if the person who does this every time they meet someone they like it becomes a habbit that can be almost impossible to break.
And when that happens it can and sometimes does cause problems.

I've watched people for a long time. It's part of what I've done over the years. It's helped me be more aware of people around me and when someone is angry I can then give them space so that they can be angry as long as they need to and I don't end up in the middle of that anger.

It's also kept me for a long time from letting people too close. Now that doesn't mean that there arn't people I'm close to but I'm very careful as to who I let close.
Too many emotions comming at you can really mess with your life.
It's easier to watch from a distance and keep a clear perspective.

It's been hard too because I can see things that will attract themselves to certian type of people who tend to go looking for the same things over and over again and often with out realizing they are.

I can honestly say that I've ended up in more pain this way, than by all the stupid things I've ever done in my life.
Stupid things I can deal with. I know I did something stupid and now I have to face what the result is. It's simple.
I deal with thoes feelings in a different way than I do if I'm watching someone else doing stupid stuff and no matter what you try to do or say you know their going to do it all over again.
They don't listen, even though they ask everyone they know the age old question "Why do I keep doing this?"

The answer to that and many other puzzling life questions is this if you don't know yourself very well your gonna keep doing the same old things over and over again.

I've accused myself of talking too much, and so to alieveate the problem I have kept journals for several years now.
But how do you deal with too many thoughts?

I guess journal alot for that too.
The only problem is the end result is the same.
The words are still there, the thoughts are still there having ended up in the same place.

The really nice things about journals is that the person reading or listening can always walk away with out hurting anyone's feelings.
It's not so clean when the preson is right there in person.
It's awkward and people get that I've spent ten minuets here too long, now if the conversation were about something that interested me, than I could go on for hours...kind of look in their eye and body mannerisms.

I know I talk and think to much. And I know that I have my journals, so even when I get sick of the sound of my voice and I still need to get rid of the overflow I can come and write and then walk away in to sweet silence away from myself and all the overload I live alot of my life in.

I'm greatful for a place to dump it all. And no one ever has to read it or listen to me ever again, even me.

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