Monday, August 16, 2010


I have figured something out about my life, and it may or may not apply to others. As I'm trying to write my blog for me and only me, it's no concern of mine whether it's true to others or not. But since this is MY space and it's the only thing that's completely all about me, I'm throwing it out there.

I have come to realize that I like dreams. And I don't mean the stories that populate the brain while sleeping. I mean dreams as in desires or fantasies.

In the book "The Alchemist", there is a part that I loved so much that I wrote it down in my Thought Book- where I write down the sentences or paragraphs that strike my fancy from books that I've read or things that I've heard or even thoughts that I've had myself that I realized were great. In this book, basically, this boy is on a journey and has a conversation with an older man. The boy asks the man why he's never been to "Mecca" as the man has always dreamed of going there. The man explains to the boy that he does not want to actually go to Mecca because he likes to dream about it. That the reality would ruin the dream. That actually being there and seeing it would make the dream itself worthless.

I love that.

There are those things that I dream about but would never actually want to happen since it would make the fantasy a reality. And I don't care how many people want to believe that realizing your dreams is the only happiness in the world, it's not mine.

I personally believe that we all need something to hope for while fully knowing it will never happen. Or for the more intelligent people, knowing that if it does happen then there's no possible way it could measure up to what we set ourselves up for.

Some of these "dreams" that I have could be complete realities if I chose to make them so. Most of them would involve an extraordinary amount of time to see realized. And the thought of spending so much time just to have a wonderful ideal crushed is absolutely not worth it to me.

Like the older man in "The Alchemist", I like having my dreams remain pure and untainted. Which makes them unattainable. Yet I feel absolutely no sadness in that. I feel that by holding on to those dreams and keeping them pure, I am paying them more respect than I would if I actually obtained them and no longer had that sparking light to fantasize about.

Nobody can take away your dreams but yourself.

Much Love!

Friday, August 13, 2010

Change In Direction

So I'm sitting here in my little work-chair with wheels on it (which is usually at my work computer, not this old POS laptop I'm typing on now that sits on my filing cabinet) and realize that my floor is slanted. Every time I try to type I slide a little further back. Go Go Gadget Arms! Nope. Doesn't work. If only our fantasies were our realities.

Anyway...... I haven't blogged in far too long. I haven't written poetry or song lyrics or anything the slightest bit interesting in far too long. Did I lose my writing ability? Did I forget how to express myself? No.

I have realized that the things that have been on my mind lately are either silly little things that possibly only I find funny, or deep serious thoughts that I haven't felt like explaining/conveying. My mind is still there, my ability is still there, the words are still there. The only thing lacking is my motivation.

So I have decided that I don't care what I write. I used to have some crazy expectation of what my words would mean or how they would come across. I'm done with that. The title of my blog is "Not So Personal Diary". So I am going to start writing again. Writing with no expectation of myself. Nobody has to read it or care. I'm going to just write (type) and write (type). Anything I damn well feel like writing. Anything that pops into my head. Forget structure. Forget anything to do with normality. I'm tired of making sense. I'm done trying to write a blog post that means something.

From now on, my blog is nothing. Meanderings of this and that, opinions on the world, etc.

So........... thought this has already been long enough, I don't care. This is MY space. And I feel like saying something. Hate me for it all you want, I don't care. (Plus, I can just delete your angry and/or ignorant comment... Haha!)

I want to express my complete craving to punch kids in the face. Yes. You read that correctly. I don't have children. I don't like children. The only kids I like are the ones that are actually related to me. Other than that, shut them up. The whining, the crying, the pouting. Seriously? Yes, I know that it happens and you can't control them. I don't have any anger or hatred towards the Momma of said horrible children. I just hate kids. Keep them away from me. Unless they are funny and scream "She farted!!!" and then laugh. At Smith's. That's just comedy. Those are kids I like.

I got Cable TV. But I really wish I could just pick and choose the channels that I actually watch and pay only for them. Here's my reality that I'd actually pay for: The normal local channels (2, 4, 5, 11, 13), the History Channel, the Food Network, trueTV, Oxygen, MTV, Hallmark (yes, I need the occasional cheesy movie), Travel channel, the Soap channel (again, I do have a vagina and need some girl stuff every now and then), MTV2 (I LOVE Jackass.......), the Syfy channel, the Gameshow network, and................ that's it. Though I would need to keep the whole "On Demand" thing because I love me some stupid horror movies. But read on-

I went on the whole Cable TV issue because I am 31 years old and have Cable TV for the first time in my entire life. My childhood was a little interesting, to say the least. I learned how to adapt and change and be "acceptable" from a young age. I could complain and bitch and cry and be angry about it all now that I'm older and see everything in its sad reality. But I won't and I don't. I don't remember a time when I didn't feel loved. And isn't that what it's about? Yes, it was hard. Yes, it was messed up. Yes, it hurt. But.... I am capable of deciding what my past makes me. Do I decide to be pathetic and turn inward like every single person is just out to get me and attack me because I'm not good enough? Or do I decide to be simply ME. I (obviously) choose to be me. I am a little screwed up, a little distrustful, a little cynical, a little possessive, a little jealous, a little angry, a little upset. But I am also a lot centered, a lot loyal, a lot caring, a lot
strong, a lot capable of anything, a lot together, a lot confident.

Balance. I honestly believe that you can't be centered and balanced if you don't have doubt to match your faith. If you don't have a little self-doubt to match your complete self-confidence. If you don't have a bit of worry with your acceptance. Living is not living without risks.

Wow. I haven't written for a long time because I felt like I was writing for an audience that expected these amazing stories or poetic interludes or funny antics.

I'm writing for myself now. And it feels great.

Much Love!