It was relentless outside
the snow ravaged his coat
It fell and fell until
every part of him grew cold
The ultimate lie from science
is that what's outside
could never wreak havoc
within the observer
He dissected him
and drugged himself
Fed himself backwards loops
with diminishing results
The scientist became
his own experiment
And his experiment
failed
What I'm About
April 4, 2020
March 11, 2019
The symbolic win
What does it mean that you finally did it?
I've been reeling on a thin line that is the hedonic treadmill. I know that it's happening to me, and I know that in spite of my conscious awareness it will eventually eat me whole. Maybe it already has.
But (yes... that ever present but) ...
Can you really put your fire on the back-burner? Can you really take the only thing at the moment that gets you excited like a little kid at Disneyland and just say "no bro, time to stop".
Is this the youthful ambition of life? Will I eventually lose this to a content-yet-yearning stasis? It's as if it's no longer a battle of good-or-bad (*red flag one*) but a matter of following that self-zeitgeist to its end. A wayward spirit to boot. Taken further, an insidious possession.
What did the creator of Future Bass say having discovered this new sound? "Idk if this will slap but man it sounds good and I'm going to go with that". And now, here I am listening to future bass in all its glory.
I'm resolved to follow through. And then I'll look out into the sky on some bright day and look back at all the moments that led up to it. Happy that I did it and that I can do so much more.
I've been reeling on a thin line that is the hedonic treadmill. I know that it's happening to me, and I know that in spite of my conscious awareness it will eventually eat me whole. Maybe it already has.
But (yes... that ever present but) ...
Can you really put your fire on the back-burner? Can you really take the only thing at the moment that gets you excited like a little kid at Disneyland and just say "no bro, time to stop".
Is this the youthful ambition of life? Will I eventually lose this to a content-yet-yearning stasis? It's as if it's no longer a battle of good-or-bad (*red flag one*) but a matter of following that self-zeitgeist to its end. A wayward spirit to boot. Taken further, an insidious possession.
What did the creator of Future Bass say having discovered this new sound? "Idk if this will slap but man it sounds good and I'm going to go with that". And now, here I am listening to future bass in all its glory.
I'm resolved to follow through. And then I'll look out into the sky on some bright day and look back at all the moments that led up to it. Happy that I did it and that I can do so much more.
June 8, 2018
I deserve...
*This blog was written on Good Friday this year but has been in queue. -Aaron
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The idea that "I deserve... this" is an incredibly complicated idea simply because we can't really gauge how much someone is worthy of something. All we know about another person is what we've seen them go through or, even less convincing, what we've heard that person go through. The better solution (if there is any one solution) is to let one's reality of the situation have more weight than other people's opinions.
This conundrum is often considered cut-and-dry because nowadays anytime someone says "I deserve this" it's usually met with the retort "you're entitled". But this can't be the only answer because this sidesteps someone's entire struggle (unless you believe that no one is entitled to anything... then this entire blog is completely useless to you).
I found myself in tears during Good Friday service today [sic]. Because I realized that for the times when I said "I deserve [ ]" the blank was only filled with good things. I believed I deserved good things coming into my life because I've suffered so much already. I believe I deserved it because I've been so patient. I believed I deserved that the tables to turn and my luck to change. I believed that I deserved things to go my way because I was "a good person".
And it hit me, during Good Friday service, that I'm not as good of a person as I thought. And I knew in the pith of my heart the child that I was before would never have wanted to become me now.
And I realized that the exact opposite thing happened to Jesus. He actually deserved good things and a happy life (unlike me). He did not get what he deserved. And I contrasted that with me and some of my predicaments and how, miraculously, many times I actually got it good when I didn't deserve it.
I didn't deserve the love He gave to me -- his life and (many many many) chances for redemption. Yet he gives it to me anyways.
There's an understanding within me now that I deserve a lot more bad than good in my life, so whatever good I do receive I must never take it for granted.
And I'm so, so thankful.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The idea that "I deserve... this" is an incredibly complicated idea simply because we can't really gauge how much someone is worthy of something. All we know about another person is what we've seen them go through or, even less convincing, what we've heard that person go through. The better solution (if there is any one solution) is to let one's reality of the situation have more weight than other people's opinions.
This conundrum is often considered cut-and-dry because nowadays anytime someone says "I deserve this" it's usually met with the retort "you're entitled". But this can't be the only answer because this sidesteps someone's entire struggle (unless you believe that no one is entitled to anything... then this entire blog is completely useless to you).
I found myself in tears during Good Friday service today [sic]. Because I realized that for the times when I said "I deserve [ ]" the blank was only filled with good things. I believed I deserved good things coming into my life because I've suffered so much already. I believe I deserved it because I've been so patient. I believed I deserved that the tables to turn and my luck to change. I believed that I deserved things to go my way because I was "a good person".
And it hit me, during Good Friday service, that I'm not as good of a person as I thought. And I knew in the pith of my heart the child that I was before would never have wanted to become me now.
And I realized that the exact opposite thing happened to Jesus. He actually deserved good things and a happy life (unlike me). He did not get what he deserved. And I contrasted that with me and some of my predicaments and how, miraculously, many times I actually got it good when I didn't deserve it.
I didn't deserve the love He gave to me -- his life and (many many many) chances for redemption. Yet he gives it to me anyways.
There's an understanding within me now that I deserve a lot more bad than good in my life, so whatever good I do receive I must never take it for granted.
And I'm so, so thankful.
March 17, 2018
Finding what makes you unhapy
I've never written too much about what makes me unhappy. It's only because such things seemed fairly obvious to me. Things that make me unhappy are probably things that make us all unhappy. For example, here's a short list of things that make me unhappy (in no particular order):
- Injustice
- When things don't "go" my way
- When people are upset with me
- When there's no more coffee in my cup
And this is all fairly straightforward.
Rather, most people spend their time trying to find what "truly makes them happy". So we try a lot of different things to see what makes us happy. And by extension, most people spend their time trying to find someone "who makes them happy" -- this almost sounds selfish to write but it's true.
And that's all good and all.
But an interesting thing I've recently discovered about myself is that the things that make me happy don't make me feel as happy as I thought they would. Or maybe those things truly make me happy but happiness is naturally transient, yet if this is truly the case, then the rest of the blog doesn't make sense... so let's say this isn't the case. Still, in the midst of all this trouble trying to find out what/whom makes me happy, I forgot to spend time and effort on trying to mend the things in my life that make me unhappy.
And the kicker is: I realize now that a lot of things about myself make me unhappy. These are truths about myself that have been built and layered upon the large -- and small -- mistakes that I've let fester and run amok in my life. These are things that were fairly benign at first, but left alone for a while... they grew.
So I started to ask myself very existential questions like "why can't I be happy?" and "why do I do things that make things worse?" And I've come up with two not-mutually-exclusive possibilities:
1. I try so hard to be happy that I've neglected the parts of myself that make me unhappy.
2. I try so hard to be happy in order to avoid the aspects of myself that make me unhappy.
Both possibilities are probably true (and probably the same or correlated). But the more I reflect the more I realize this truly terrifying thing: the crappy parts of me really do control my life and behavior far more than I imagined. And it's a real mind-bender.
*****
It's hard to accurately describe the aspects of myself that make me unhappy -- besides the fact that they are really personal. If I had to typify these aspects, they're clearly things to do with self-doubt about oneself that seem immutable. Perhaps they really are objectively immutable or unlikely to change. And the fact that I can't control these aspects really frustrate me... to the point where I sputter that sad surrender: "what's the point? what's the use?"
Maybe I can't change these things. But being aware of them and how great their impact is on my mental/emotional game (they have tremendous impact) can help me move on... can give me a better chance for change or successful coping methods. Maybe all along all I needed was just to be able to pin-point the true source of my inability for lasting happiness: the unhappiness at my core.
March 8, 2018
A clean, well lit place indeed
Hemingway is a powerful author.
That probably goes without saying given his name. He has one of those names that people instantly connect to genius (like Einstein? Michelangelo? ... Trump? wait... definitely not the last one haha). Ever had a Hemingway cigar a lá Fuente? Ah I remember my first Short Story... I smoked it in my backyard, but I had just turned 18 and was still hiding my smoking from my parents. My backyard connected to my room's window so I crawled out my window just to smoke it. What a great cigar. And what a childish way to have smoked it haha.
Anyways, back to Hemingway. There's one story of his I always go back to.
A Clean, Well Lighted Place
(and Hills Like White Elephants come to think of it but not...right now).
I go to cafes all the time. I resonate with that place. A clean, well lit place. Sometimes I just go to go and feel like I'm a part of something -- I'm a part of life. I like to see people talking to each other, and smiling at each other. Going about their lives and I get to take a peak. I see emotions on people's faces. Some I wish I could change. Frankly, sometimes I go to forget my life. Either way, when I'm there things get better. Maybe it's just the caffeine but things do get better. Even just for a little while.
I wish there was a cure to loneliness. I wish there was genie who could grant wishes when you're feeling trapped and feeling like there's no way out of your situation. I wish I could have more strength to deal with and overcome all of my shitty weaknesses and pesky quirks. Everyone has these moments. I'm almost sure of that.
And why yes, a clean, well-lighted place helps. In a modest, small way. But it helps.
That probably goes without saying given his name. He has one of those names that people instantly connect to genius (like Einstein? Michelangelo? ... Trump? wait... definitely not the last one haha). Ever had a Hemingway cigar a lá Fuente? Ah I remember my first Short Story... I smoked it in my backyard, but I had just turned 18 and was still hiding my smoking from my parents. My backyard connected to my room's window so I crawled out my window just to smoke it. What a great cigar. And what a childish way to have smoked it haha.
Anyways, back to Hemingway. There's one story of his I always go back to.
A Clean, Well Lighted Place
(and Hills Like White Elephants come to think of it but not...right now).
I go to cafes all the time. I resonate with that place. A clean, well lit place. Sometimes I just go to go and feel like I'm a part of something -- I'm a part of life. I like to see people talking to each other, and smiling at each other. Going about their lives and I get to take a peak. I see emotions on people's faces. Some I wish I could change. Frankly, sometimes I go to forget my life. Either way, when I'm there things get better. Maybe it's just the caffeine but things do get better. Even just for a little while.
I wish there was a cure to loneliness. I wish there was genie who could grant wishes when you're feeling trapped and feeling like there's no way out of your situation. I wish I could have more strength to deal with and overcome all of my shitty weaknesses and pesky quirks. Everyone has these moments. I'm almost sure of that.
And why yes, a clean, well-lighted place helps. In a modest, small way. But it helps.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)