just wondering.

music and words carefully penned by faceless strangers often cooperate together to unlock the distant stirrings underneath my surface self - bridging the gap between real emotion and the projected self.  tonight is yet another night in a long, yet scattered, consistent march towards acknowledgement of those scattered thoughts.  somehow, almost magically, that deadly combination unleashes what i would - most often - call the best of me.  the salient, rational continuation of a thread of thought that i grasp for all the time but only feel once written openly.  it's painfully ironic to realize that these musings can only be captured in the release of all else.  that the striving only completes itself in letting go.

i find myself desiring for that perfection of phrase in normal unaided times, yet can only complete it when it's most useless to me.  for, these very words only serve me once the moment passes anyway.  and then, only when i look back over my shoulder to see what i wrought in those lucid moments of release.

irony.  once again, playing a major role in everyday existence.

i wonder, too, if i should italicize more to lead quiet resolution and reflection to my own ponderings.

don't worry - i know this makes no sense.  but i do get it... tonight, at least.

muse

Ignorance is bliss, said the mind's eye to the fly that buzzed the deck before the wreck

craving that simple solitude of flight carefully watched by too many unseen forces

at work against the sun beating down for the fun of what may come or had already been

and guessing at the insolent patience of life plodding on at fixed rate despite my tivo capabilities

speeding up and slowing down to receive my crown carefully crafted when noone was looking

cobbled together with fragments of perceived gain and fake fame that now seems lame in the light

what a fright of delight to see that sprite dash across my consciousness and shake the webs

forgetting the forgotten moments that once poignantly pointed me directly up where i didn't want to go

and now treads loudly on the cabin pressured coffin that i bought at discount those years ago

reciprocrocity

there are many days that i wonder if i will find love again...

... quickly followed by the realization that it may not even matter

Memories

In many ways, memories highlight true experience while also coloring the past in unexpected delusion.  A memory can simply exist as enhancement to past reality, or can twist into an inexact expecation of current or future events.  Same memories surely become a map of behavior, though, if carefully considered and stripped of hyperboly to extract the truth of life moments.  And, certainly, the reaction to such memories definitely open the door to realization of the current moment - reminding of how emotion and human need strips away reason at critical times.  Memory aids in digestion of clouded hearts and bodies in piecing together past experiences with backward reasoning and analysis, and certainly that remains the best tool of this device for memory unbridled removes our ability to live forward.

I speak simply of the huge pull of memory to forget the present while still ackowledging the incredible lessons gained through the journey.  My memories definitely battle the present sometimes.  Without a doubt, great memories assault life with adventures lost while belittling the pain experienced, yet through that I do strive so hard to recognize the lessons contained within the imperfect clouds of life past.  A simple memory remains fragmented of its immediacy.  The impact of joy untempered by its lost surroundings and equally the destruction of sadness untempered by survival.  And, journels exist for this captualation - to go back and read unfettered (let's not argue the point here) accounts of true "present" back then.

A memory can heal.  Sadden.  Provide wistfulness.  Mislead.  Enlighten and even hopefully teach.  Factual memories tend to teach more in a real sense, yet emotional memories teach in significant nuances of the heart.  Memories most often refuse to exhibit reality.  And, sometimes, that is for the best.

Yearbook Pictures

This is one of the funniest and most entertaining websites I've seen lately - you go and upload a picture of yourself and then you can browse through what you'd look like in different yearbooks from different years:

http://www.YearbookYourself.com

Here are some examples using my own photo - and yes, I currently have some facial hair going: