Warning: author completely full of shit. - Bigford Smeckler's Cool Ideas
I lose my place quite often, I will write something brilliant up in my head, I'll turn it on the lathe and polish it until its smooth and shiny and then I'll lose it to the next piece of shit idea that jumps in the way of my thought train. I wish it didn't, I want a vault for all the brilliant ideas that I would write out and an auto save function so I never lose out on the tiny bits of progress I make in this life.
I have been being more honest with myself lately. Trying to sort out my bullshit from my real shit and convince myself they I can actually tell the difference. Its a hard thing at the moment as both mountainous peaks are showing signs of collapse which will almost certainly end in my own demise due to lungs full of crap instead of oxygen. I recently achieved some form of a goal as you may have read, I passed the are you smart and healthy enough tests to get into the army, which to my former reckoning would have given me access to clean slate and fresh playing field for my emotions and life goals. You have one mission, get you ass moving and your stomach shrinking. Push, push, push. How I convinced myself it was ever going to work that way I don't know. It doesn't, just in case that wasn't clear. There are still two mountains of shit that I need to scale before I get where I need to be to make this work. They are big, they are shaky and they smell like three month old hobo vomit. its a little graphic I agree but if you cringed then you get the point. I don't have climbing gear, I have mentally stability, there are no ropes only confidence that I can get the job done. There is no falling back on anyone this time, the only person that can fuck this up is me.
Which brings me to the second shittiest realisation of my life. It doesn't matter who is here and who I have and who cares about it all. This, all of this is on me. The rest of my life is on my shoulders.
"Well" you say "Lee that's just what being an adult is about."
No. Fuck you. See getting a job, that was on me. Finding a place to live, that was on me. Doing the washing, that's on me. BUT and it is a big but, they were problems of a repeatable nature. If I didn't get the job at JB then I would have somewhere else, if I didn't get the house I did I would have found somewhere else to live. THIS, this is the rest of my fucking life. This is the one shot I have to get where I want to be going. "So go out there and do it?" Ah no thanks, I'm going to stay here and hide under my blankets until life starts knocking on someone else's door. See in my head I'm out there kicking ass and taking names, I'm doing all of the things I need to be doing right now in the moment, and then I get home and I sit for a moment in silence and I can hear it. That little voice in your head, the one that tells you, you are doing something wrong. You are killing your life one day at a time.
So why write it here? Why not just change it if you have noticed this thing about yourself? Ah well there it is, the real conundrum laid out in plain English. I am a stubborn fool. I deny and lie and cheat and fight with my own brain until I am comfortable sitting on the couch for the weekend smashing out Watch Dogs eating ice-cream and pizza. So I plaster my bullshit here. For all the world (so like six or seven people) to see, and more importantly for me to read. Over and over and over again until I have got it all sunk it and learned and shit. Until I am ready every day to get on my bike and ride to work instead of driving. So that the packet of chips in my cupboard doesn't look more desirable then cams and a slouch hat.
I lose my place quite often, I will write something brilliant up in my head, I'll turn it on the lathe and polish it until its smooth and shiny and then I'll lose it to the next piece of shit idea that jumps in the way of my thought train. I wish it didn't, I want a vault for all the brilliant ideas that I would write out and an auto save function so I never lose out on the tiny bits of progress I make in this life.
I have been being more honest with myself lately. Trying to sort out my bullshit from my real shit and convince myself they I can actually tell the difference. Its a hard thing at the moment as both mountainous peaks are showing signs of collapse which will almost certainly end in my own demise due to lungs full of crap instead of oxygen. I recently achieved some form of a goal as you may have read, I passed the are you smart and healthy enough tests to get into the army, which to my former reckoning would have given me access to clean slate and fresh playing field for my emotions and life goals. You have one mission, get you ass moving and your stomach shrinking. Push, push, push. How I convinced myself it was ever going to work that way I don't know. It doesn't, just in case that wasn't clear. There are still two mountains of shit that I need to scale before I get where I need to be to make this work. They are big, they are shaky and they smell like three month old hobo vomit. its a little graphic I agree but if you cringed then you get the point. I don't have climbing gear, I have mentally stability, there are no ropes only confidence that I can get the job done. There is no falling back on anyone this time, the only person that can fuck this up is me.
 |
| Step 1 - Hide under blanket Step 2 - Continue hiding under blanket for the rest of time |
"Well" you say "Lee that's just what being an adult is about."
No. Fuck you. See getting a job, that was on me. Finding a place to live, that was on me. Doing the washing, that's on me. BUT and it is a big but, they were problems of a repeatable nature. If I didn't get the job at JB then I would have somewhere else, if I didn't get the house I did I would have found somewhere else to live. THIS, this is the rest of my fucking life. This is the one shot I have to get where I want to be going. "So go out there and do it?" Ah no thanks, I'm going to stay here and hide under my blankets until life starts knocking on someone else's door. See in my head I'm out there kicking ass and taking names, I'm doing all of the things I need to be doing right now in the moment, and then I get home and I sit for a moment in silence and I can hear it. That little voice in your head, the one that tells you, you are doing something wrong. You are killing your life one day at a time.
So why write it here? Why not just change it if you have noticed this thing about yourself? Ah well there it is, the real conundrum laid out in plain English. I am a stubborn fool. I deny and lie and cheat and fight with my own brain until I am comfortable sitting on the couch for the weekend smashing out Watch Dogs eating ice-cream and pizza. So I plaster my bullshit here. For all the world (so like six or seven people) to see, and more importantly for me to read. Over and over and over again until I have got it all sunk it and learned and shit. Until I am ready every day to get on my bike and ride to work instead of driving. So that the packet of chips in my cupboard doesn't look more desirable then cams and a slouch hat.
I am never entirely sure how this will affect me. Some days it brings the biggest ups, it lets me think nothing for a few moments and have peace and silence in my head and other days it brings out all the very best fears I have. Tonight it has done a bit of both, it clears me up and then shakes me down, the end scene, song and credits bringing with them a torrent of eclectic emotions. Sadness, loneliness, freedom.
We are infinite.
I have had moments like that, moments of where the world fades away and everything is still alright. moments that played back would appear in black and white with the perfect background music. Where nothing matters, not even what is on screen only whatever it is you are feeling right in that moment and to make it last as long as is possible. I miss those moments as they can very rarely be made, it takes a special place in my head that I cant get too at the moment. It needs a key that I no longer have, lost somewhere in the house of my mind. Not stilling, or missing but lost and I know I will find it and I wait for that day. Where my confidence is not a fleeting thing and my emotions are stable enough to walk on again. I am limping most days and running the rest, but I would give up the run if I could just have the chance to walk tall again and trust myself. I don't see that coming around again soon unless I can kick off this rut I seem to be standing in. Gym, work, home, work, home, work, home, gym, home, work. It is a bad loop with too much work and not enough gym. The pattern up stairs does not look much better.
I am growing tired of my own duality. I want to be the better half but the weaker one holds my strength for ransom. He has no demands only the want to see me fail and finally have an excuse for my own impending depression. I would cast him aside like a poorly fitting organ if he wasn't sown into my insides. I hope I get through this alive, without more burns or insanity, without hurting anyone else, without losing myself again.
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