after running around like the man on a mission i was, i found myself in the position where i didn't have anything left that needed to be done yesterday, and wound up slumped on the couch, much like a mechanical man with a dead battery, searching my head for what the next task had to be. i couldn't find anything, so i had a beer which didn't help. the second and third didn't help any either.
most of my stuff has now been moved out of RPM now and is spread out between the little unit i'm in now, and another little unit in the next block. there's still a fair bit at the house, but it wasn't crucial that i get it out so i prioritised what needed to be shifted now and got it done while i chase other options. i've just about run out of storage space in the places available to me, so the rest is going to take a mixture of patience and strategy.
i have the next week to tidy up around the edges, anyway, since i'm officially on holiday between jobs. i finished up at the old job half-way through friday and now have a week to... um... i don't know, actually. i have plans for wednesday, but that's all i have set in stone at present. bearing in mind that for the last 4 months i've pretty much always known where i was going to be for the entire week ahead this is disconcerting, if remarkably relieving. i haven't had a holiday where i've just bummed around and done Sweet Fuck All in forever so i really am going to try it this time. i'm going to have to try to relax.
relaxation didn't want to come today. after slumping for a while i started pottering around, playing with the network here which was causing a few issues. i was almost glad when it took me an hour or two to fix because it meant that i didn't notice the passage of time until my metabolism politely informed me that if i didn't eat SOON it would eject my spleen out through my side. i've not been eating much, or regularly, of late and my body seems to be getting rapidly and heartily sick of it. i'm hoping that banana chips help since it's currently all i have at hand.
my ability to relax seems to have taken a vacation generally of late. i was forcibly relaxed the other day, left sitting on a couch in a pose which i'm certain must have looked like a puppet with its strings cut, arms by my sides, head resting on the back of the couch, mouth gaping open, body refusing to respond to commands. this state took 20 minutes the achieve, and lasted 3, maybe 4 minutes afterwards. it was the closest i've been to actually passive in far too long.
now i just need to polish off all the loose ends i've left hanging while i got the main body of work out of the way. i was a little stupid about it - i took on a couple of tasks i maybe shouldn't have bearing in mind that i had my own shit on, but i'm glad i did them anyway. they made people happy... or at very least reduced their burden some. they seemed... perplexed at my willingness to assist, and determination that i'd continue until the job was done. i wanted to Help, and feel he validation of having provided Assistance. when people tell you that the work is its own reward they're usually a wanker trying to con you into doing something remarkably unpleasant. i just wanted to feel good about having done something which made some people i likes lives easier. well, one person in particular, but there were two of them involved so i'll count them both.
the concept seemed alien to them. i'd ask "so, when are we going back to finish this off?" at which point she'd give me a confused look and say "you know you don't HAVE to do this?" and i'd reply "i know that. meanwhile..."
oh well. it's done now, and that was satisfying. i'm achy and sore, but i achieved something and that makes it worthwhile.
right now i'm tired and need sleep which i know won't come for another hour or so so i'm trying to distract myself. i might see about installing a new game on my laptop and playing that until my body's ready to pass out again. certainly, gaming will make the coming week pass by more quickly, i'm sure. i know the way these things go - it'll be gone before i know it regardless of what i do. i won't mind as long as i get something constructive done in the meantime...
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
i am about to swear a lot. you have been warned...
i am so fucked. seriously fucking fucked. i've found myself in what you might call "something of a pickle" if you were a polite sort, or if you're more... well, like me: "a steaming pile of shit up to my fucking eyeballs". the nature of my problem may be amusing to some, confusing to others, or if you're The Becca, So Very Raven. my problem is as follows:
i've been in a good mood. things have been going... well. i have, in fact, been something approaching "happy".
no, seriously, this is an issue. happy is bad. happy is counterproductive. i have too many things to get done to waste my time being the happy little centre of my own universe.
the problem, dear friends, is that when i get happy i get complacent and when i get complacent i don't have the drive to make the difficult decisions or to effect changes that need to be made and right now there are a lot of changes i need to make. what i actually need in situations like this is a stockpile, or steady influx, of raw and barely contained rage.
let me try to explain. you'll have seen those movies with the guy who's going out after the mob, or taking on the drug cartel, or working valiantly to bring down a corrupt government official. picture that guy in your head. odds are he's going to be a gestalt of Bruce Willis from Die Hard, Denzel Washington from Man On Fire, Aragon and (if you're a gamer) Max Payne. is that a happy man? fuck no! he's pissed off! his family's been killed or threatened, or he wants to save a little girl from kidnappers or he's had a really bad day, doesn't get to have sex with the elf and really needs a shave and a bath. now, you're not going to wake up on a bright sunny morning, kiss the wife, have a nice cup of milky tea on the back balcony with your pipe and slippers and think to yourself
"hmm. you know, today i think i might put on my dirty old mack and go out and fight terrorists barefoot in the mud with a spade and a toothpick and likely get shot."
no! you're going to finish the coffee, go for a nice drive in the country and make sweet sweet lurve to the missus and her friend-from-uni-who's-open-to-experimentation in your airy Studio Apartment with View of the Fucking Harbor and Easy Access to Local Facilities. you're fucking happy with your nice, neat little shit so why the fuck would you care enough to change anything?
happy people do not sell off their belongings, quit their job and buy a one-way flight to the other side of the goddamn world so they can go adventuring! they buy a fucking package holiday, save up some cash or get a loan and go off with a hawiian shirt and their camera around their neck while wearing sensible shoes and a floppy fucking hat! if they bother to go at all.
i'm resigned to the fact that i have a different viewpoint on all this. i've been told enough times that i'm wired up wrong that i take it as a compliment these days. take my taste in music - In Flames (screamy swedish melodic-death-metal) puts me in a great mood. Death Cab For Cutie (easy-listening fairy-boy semi-emo alt-pop) makes me marginally irritated. anything by Andrew Lloyd Motherfucking Webber (purveyor of the musical equivalent of sawdust-bread to the masses) makes me want to confiscate people's thumbs using power-tools and a butane torch. my brain works differently to yours. be grateful for this.
the thing is that when i need to Get Things Done i need to have the stockpile of rage that i've captured and distilled into a crystaline ball of utter malevolence which i can then draw upon at appropriate moments to give me the strength to stand tall and smash through any obstacles in my path. a happy man does not go out and change his life, and that is what i need to be doing right now. i need to move out of the house i've lived in for nearly 4 years. it hasn't been a good house - it's been a fucking great house. i have some staggeringly awesome memories attached to this place and it has been Home like nowhere else has been in most of the last decade. i do not want to leave this house, but i have to leave this house. similarly, i have some really nice stuff i've collected this stuff over the years, a piece here and a piece there and put myself together a comfortable environment where it's all pretty much how i want it.
it has to go.
i need to do things which i will not want to do if i am happy. i need to be angered to the point of insanity and frustrated to a level of madness so that i can do these things and not look back, or think too hard before i do them - draw upon my wellspring of hate and drown everything before me in screaming rage and bile. i cannot afford to be complacent lest i lose momentum and not achieve the escape-velocity to actually go through with the plans i have put in place.
the other big killer is that when i'm happy i get stupid. i'm pretty sure i've discussed this idea before, in a previous life. when i'm angry i'm situationally aware. i'm alert and i'm on the fucking ball. get me in a good mood and i slip and when i slip up i screw up. i've done it before - let things slip and suddenly the whole house of cards collapses around me. i need the stress somewhere in my life to keep the balancing act alive. now i've gone and managed to get everything rolling beautifully and there's a smile on my face. how in hell am i going to maintain clarity when i'm in a warm fuzzy place?
it makes me so fucking mad i could put my face through concrete...
.
.
.
actually, that'll about do it. much better.
i've been in a good mood. things have been going... well. i have, in fact, been something approaching "happy".
no, seriously, this is an issue. happy is bad. happy is counterproductive. i have too many things to get done to waste my time being the happy little centre of my own universe.
the problem, dear friends, is that when i get happy i get complacent and when i get complacent i don't have the drive to make the difficult decisions or to effect changes that need to be made and right now there are a lot of changes i need to make. what i actually need in situations like this is a stockpile, or steady influx, of raw and barely contained rage.
let me try to explain. you'll have seen those movies with the guy who's going out after the mob, or taking on the drug cartel, or working valiantly to bring down a corrupt government official. picture that guy in your head. odds are he's going to be a gestalt of Bruce Willis from Die Hard, Denzel Washington from Man On Fire, Aragon and (if you're a gamer) Max Payne. is that a happy man? fuck no! he's pissed off! his family's been killed or threatened, or he wants to save a little girl from kidnappers or he's had a really bad day, doesn't get to have sex with the elf and really needs a shave and a bath. now, you're not going to wake up on a bright sunny morning, kiss the wife, have a nice cup of milky tea on the back balcony with your pipe and slippers and think to yourself
"hmm. you know, today i think i might put on my dirty old mack and go out and fight terrorists barefoot in the mud with a spade and a toothpick and likely get shot."
no! you're going to finish the coffee, go for a nice drive in the country and make sweet sweet lurve to the missus and her friend-from-uni-who's-open-to-experimentation in your airy Studio Apartment with View of the Fucking Harbor and Easy Access to Local Facilities. you're fucking happy with your nice, neat little shit so why the fuck would you care enough to change anything?
happy people do not sell off their belongings, quit their job and buy a one-way flight to the other side of the goddamn world so they can go adventuring! they buy a fucking package holiday, save up some cash or get a loan and go off with a hawiian shirt and their camera around their neck while wearing sensible shoes and a floppy fucking hat! if they bother to go at all.
i'm resigned to the fact that i have a different viewpoint on all this. i've been told enough times that i'm wired up wrong that i take it as a compliment these days. take my taste in music - In Flames (screamy swedish melodic-death-metal) puts me in a great mood. Death Cab For Cutie (easy-listening fairy-boy semi-emo alt-pop) makes me marginally irritated. anything by Andrew Lloyd Motherfucking Webber (purveyor of the musical equivalent of sawdust-bread to the masses) makes me want to confiscate people's thumbs using power-tools and a butane torch. my brain works differently to yours. be grateful for this.
the thing is that when i need to Get Things Done i need to have the stockpile of rage that i've captured and distilled into a crystaline ball of utter malevolence which i can then draw upon at appropriate moments to give me the strength to stand tall and smash through any obstacles in my path. a happy man does not go out and change his life, and that is what i need to be doing right now. i need to move out of the house i've lived in for nearly 4 years. it hasn't been a good house - it's been a fucking great house. i have some staggeringly awesome memories attached to this place and it has been Home like nowhere else has been in most of the last decade. i do not want to leave this house, but i have to leave this house. similarly, i have some really nice stuff i've collected this stuff over the years, a piece here and a piece there and put myself together a comfortable environment where it's all pretty much how i want it.
it has to go.
i need to do things which i will not want to do if i am happy. i need to be angered to the point of insanity and frustrated to a level of madness so that i can do these things and not look back, or think too hard before i do them - draw upon my wellspring of hate and drown everything before me in screaming rage and bile. i cannot afford to be complacent lest i lose momentum and not achieve the escape-velocity to actually go through with the plans i have put in place.
the other big killer is that when i'm happy i get stupid. i'm pretty sure i've discussed this idea before, in a previous life. when i'm angry i'm situationally aware. i'm alert and i'm on the fucking ball. get me in a good mood and i slip and when i slip up i screw up. i've done it before - let things slip and suddenly the whole house of cards collapses around me. i need the stress somewhere in my life to keep the balancing act alive. now i've gone and managed to get everything rolling beautifully and there's a smile on my face. how in hell am i going to maintain clarity when i'm in a warm fuzzy place?
it makes me so fucking mad i could put my face through concrete...
.
.
.
actually, that'll about do it. much better.
Friday, March 14, 2008
g33k bliss...
ah, this is the life. sitting on the balcony of the flat i'll be (un)officially moving into in a week, laptop burning my crotch, glass of scotch to my left, phat pipe streaming internets to me via the wireless. ah, the geeky joy. i've just asserted my techie dominance by setting up my router and linking all the computers and game consoles through it.
geekiness. i has it.
that's all i really wanted to say at this point. it's a friday, which is ordinarily the sweetest of all days. today it's just moderately sweet, but that's ok too. i have promised myself a nice quiet weekend, so i only have 3 or 4 things to do. for me that's impressive.
next weekend will be far far more busy, which is why i'm doing naff all over the next 24 or 36 hours. if i'm really REALLY lucky i'll get to sleep, too. won't be much of THAT next weekend...
geekiness. i has it.
that's all i really wanted to say at this point. it's a friday, which is ordinarily the sweetest of all days. today it's just moderately sweet, but that's ok too. i have promised myself a nice quiet weekend, so i only have 3 or 4 things to do. for me that's impressive.
next weekend will be far far more busy, which is why i'm doing naff all over the next 24 or 36 hours. if i'm really REALLY lucky i'll get to sleep, too. won't be much of THAT next weekend...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
it's waning raven...
i've never been particularly good at doing the things that are good for me. at the moment it's all about sleep, rest and regeneration. i think it's fair to say that i've been busy. i've been pretty much permanently on the go since late november. there was a brief period in January where i spent any time i had spare lying in bed reading books, but apart from that it's been go go go. while i was overseas the last time i kinda forgot how to sleep, which knocked me around for 3 or 4 weeks until i remembered how again. this means that i got some rest, but didn't slow down the pace of activity any. this last week's been so damn busy that when i try explain it to people i go into oratory hyperspeed, and even then people have to shut up for 12-14 minutes before i get to the end of it all. by the time i'm done with my monologue they're usually sitting there with their mouths open while they process just how much i've been fitting into my days.
not that i'm trying to brag here. i've been busy, and a lot of what i've been up to has been really interesting, even for people who aren't me. the thing is that at some point i know i'm going to crash out and get really sick because my body will decide that enough is enough and pull the pin. it does that on occasion. i'm already feeling the shutdown in my head - the thoughts come slower and less crisp. like they've crawled through treacle and then a sandpit before they get to me. i know that i want to take a break and chill out but then... there are things i "have" to do. i make commitments which get called on. i miscalculate when things need to be done and wind up shoving them into my schedule. and then there are the opportunities which crop up which are too good to miss out on. the next thing i know, i've organised my week through to sunday by tuesday afternoon.
this is taking a fair amount out of me. i've been "tired" for a while, but i'm rapidly moving into the zone of "weary". i'm hoping that i can survive the next 2 and a half weeks. i have a week off. the first week in April. the back of my mind is already looking for ways to fill it with activities it considers productive, which means that i'm fighting a read-guard action so that i can fill it with as little as humanly possible. play a couple of games that have been piling up. read a few books. drink some beer. that sort of thing.
in a week and a half i move, thus negating a chunk of the joy of the coming Easter Long Weekend. a week after that i finish up at the job i've been in since July. at 5PM on March 28 i'm officially free as a bird for 9 days. if pieces keep falling into place the way they have been up until now then maybe, maybe i'll get some rest. maybe, maybe i'll last that long. there's always a price to be paid. i'm just hoping it defers until then.
not that i'm trying to brag here. i've been busy, and a lot of what i've been up to has been really interesting, even for people who aren't me. the thing is that at some point i know i'm going to crash out and get really sick because my body will decide that enough is enough and pull the pin. it does that on occasion. i'm already feeling the shutdown in my head - the thoughts come slower and less crisp. like they've crawled through treacle and then a sandpit before they get to me. i know that i want to take a break and chill out but then... there are things i "have" to do. i make commitments which get called on. i miscalculate when things need to be done and wind up shoving them into my schedule. and then there are the opportunities which crop up which are too good to miss out on. the next thing i know, i've organised my week through to sunday by tuesday afternoon.
this is taking a fair amount out of me. i've been "tired" for a while, but i'm rapidly moving into the zone of "weary". i'm hoping that i can survive the next 2 and a half weeks. i have a week off. the first week in April. the back of my mind is already looking for ways to fill it with activities it considers productive, which means that i'm fighting a read-guard action so that i can fill it with as little as humanly possible. play a couple of games that have been piling up. read a few books. drink some beer. that sort of thing.
in a week and a half i move, thus negating a chunk of the joy of the coming Easter Long Weekend. a week after that i finish up at the job i've been in since July. at 5PM on March 28 i'm officially free as a bird for 9 days. if pieces keep falling into place the way they have been up until now then maybe, maybe i'll get some rest. maybe, maybe i'll last that long. there's always a price to be paid. i'm just hoping it defers until then.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
gallery of stupid things...
my life is full of stupidity at the moment. no, really. i've managed to make a habit out of winding up in situations which are, on the face of it at the very least, kinda stupid. at the moment most of my more questionable actions seem to be centred on the fact that i am, as it happens, flying out of the fucking country in early October. this is no longer negotiable. when you spend $1100 on a ticket to go somewhere you remove the uncertainty surrounding the idea.
what normal people do in this situation is NOT leave the permanent, full time, public service job they've only been in for 8 months, only to take ANOTHER permanent job with a company in private industry. this is something which is generally considered to be Not Done. you should just ride out the last 6 months of the job while keeping your head down, i'm sure of it.
similarly, when they decide to go for an undetermined period of time, sensible people don't usually go out and sell off all the possessions they have which won't fit in a very small storage shed so that they'll have nothing to come back to
and once said sensible person has made these arrangements to cast themselves free of wherever it is they've been living these last 5 years, the big thing, the absolutely biggest, most massive thing which is labelled "To Be Avoided At All Costs" on page 8 of the "Complete Idiot's Guide To Packing Up Your Life And Fucking Off Around The World" is go and get involved with someone who works out how to push all of their buttons within 314 seconds. no, i mean, SERIOUSLY!?!
hi. how you doing? my name's Peter, i thought we'd met.
yep, that's right. Everything's Coming Up Raven!
the thing is that these decisions aren't made sensibly. maybe you can imagine the mindset which leads someone to deciding "hey, you know what i need to do? i need to get rid of my shit, pack up my life and go on a working holiday in the UK!"
"How long are you going for," people will ask, to which you reply:
"oh, somewhere between 3 months and forever."
these are not the actions of someone who is being sane and fucking sensible! let's be serious for a moment here! doing the Travelling Holiday in the UK is something we all talk about. we know someone who knew someone who did it. we think it'd be a great idea. i doesn't actually get Done, and not on the spur of the though "oh, i'm sad and lonely and i hate my job - i know! i'll kick in my professional career for a while and live in London in a cramped mouldy hovel, work in a bar to keep my head above water and travel Europe! what could possibly go wrong?"
when someone goes off and does that sort of thing you need to lower your expectations as to their general mental stability, and the sort of logical decisions they'll be making. i mean, i'm utilising impeccable logic, i swear this to be true. the problem is that logic is predicated on your having a solid, considered viewpoint to start with and i'm on shifting sand these days. i'm just fucking winging it at this point, and i shit you not: Everything Is Coming Up Raven.
when doing the sensible, smart thing doesn't work for you, start doing shit you're pretty sure is absolutely wacko and the next thing you know you're having a great fucking time. of course, it's all going to end in pain and madness but... hello? fun! i did three separately stupid things this evening and you know what? i've had a great time. no idea what's next. jump out of my bedroom window wearing only a pair of thick Explorer socks and the Australian flag as a cape screaming something obscene in Mandarin or something. you just know i'll land on a balaclava'd burglar who's carrying a phenomenally huge pile of money and when the police come to arrest us both (him for... you know, being a burglar and me for being stark raving mad and clad only in the flag) they will for some reason which has no basis in the plot, recognise me as the long lost king of... Lithukyrgianiastan or something stupid like that.
don't mind me, i'm rambling, but that's what my life's been like in the last couple of months. give up, stop thinking about things too sensibly and suddenly you're having a great fucking time.
um... that kinda went off on a tangent which not only had i not expected, but in fact was better than what i thought i was going to say. YOU SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN FUCKING SAYING THOUGH? (enter the Caps Lock - Are You Ready To Unleash The Fucking Fury??) WHY HAVE I BEEN TRYING TO FORCE THINGS WHEN ALL I HAVE TO FUCKING DO IS FUCKING GIVE THE FUCK UP?????
ooh, my keyboard isn't going to last a week at this rate.
in all sobriety though, i am more than slightly freaking the fuck out at the moment. i moved to Canberra under similar circumstances, and that's been fun and good for me. that's all that's keeping me from a padded room with nice angel-people bringing me pretty colourful pills at the moment. and getting kissed a lot (it really helps). if i was someone sitting around listening to someone tell me the story of what i've been doing and what i've got planned, i'd be telling me i was nuts. it's too extreme, certainly.
"Maybe just go for a holiday," or
"If you give it another year and save up it'd be much easier," or even
"What do you mean your mate's girlfriend is breaking up with him so that she can come along for the trip?
there are plenty of things i'd be saying to me, if i was being sensible that is, but since i'm patently not then i can more or less hold my head up and say
what the hell? why stop it when everything seems to be going so well? if i complain too loudly the gods might notice and put a stop to it.
i hate to suggest that i'm going to be doing a whole lot more stupid stuff in the coming weeks, but you know it's true. my wild drive to Tidbinbilla on the weekend is a classic example. i should NOT have been pushing myself as hard as i was, but i did. the only reason it's really excusable is that we all got out happy and safe and that i was able to bring things back under control when they got a bit too freaky.
this is far too much thinking about this topic, but i'm going to have to stop this soon. i've been letting myself get out of control, which has historically been a Bad Thing. i never can do foolish in a small way. sure, it starts out harmless, but then has this habit of escalating rapidly and... uncontrollably. i have no idea of the solution to this issue, except that if i manage to get on the flight out of Sydney with all my anatomy in its current configuration and my psyche... um... in no worse state than it is already, i should be ok.
i choose not to fight the thought that hugs and kisses will make things better. i just need to find and strangle the voice which is reminding me that i really do know that it'll just make things worse. it doesn't matter. i never liked that guy anyway.
what normal people do in this situation is NOT leave the permanent, full time, public service job they've only been in for 8 months, only to take ANOTHER permanent job with a company in private industry. this is something which is generally considered to be Not Done. you should just ride out the last 6 months of the job while keeping your head down, i'm sure of it.
similarly, when they decide to go for an undetermined period of time, sensible people don't usually go out and sell off all the possessions they have which won't fit in a very small storage shed so that they'll have nothing to come back to
and once said sensible person has made these arrangements to cast themselves free of wherever it is they've been living these last 5 years, the big thing, the absolutely biggest, most massive thing which is labelled "To Be Avoided At All Costs" on page 8 of the "Complete Idiot's Guide To Packing Up Your Life And Fucking Off Around The World" is go and get involved with someone who works out how to push all of their buttons within 314 seconds. no, i mean, SERIOUSLY!?!
hi. how you doing? my name's Peter, i thought we'd met.
yep, that's right. Everything's Coming Up Raven!
the thing is that these decisions aren't made sensibly. maybe you can imagine the mindset which leads someone to deciding "hey, you know what i need to do? i need to get rid of my shit, pack up my life and go on a working holiday in the UK!"
"How long are you going for," people will ask, to which you reply:
"oh, somewhere between 3 months and forever."
these are not the actions of someone who is being sane and fucking sensible! let's be serious for a moment here! doing the Travelling Holiday in the UK is something we all talk about. we know someone who knew someone who did it. we think it'd be a great idea. i doesn't actually get Done, and not on the spur of the though "oh, i'm sad and lonely and i hate my job - i know! i'll kick in my professional career for a while and live in London in a cramped mouldy hovel, work in a bar to keep my head above water and travel Europe! what could possibly go wrong?"
when someone goes off and does that sort of thing you need to lower your expectations as to their general mental stability, and the sort of logical decisions they'll be making. i mean, i'm utilising impeccable logic, i swear this to be true. the problem is that logic is predicated on your having a solid, considered viewpoint to start with and i'm on shifting sand these days. i'm just fucking winging it at this point, and i shit you not: Everything Is Coming Up Raven.
when doing the sensible, smart thing doesn't work for you, start doing shit you're pretty sure is absolutely wacko and the next thing you know you're having a great fucking time. of course, it's all going to end in pain and madness but... hello? fun! i did three separately stupid things this evening and you know what? i've had a great time. no idea what's next. jump out of my bedroom window wearing only a pair of thick Explorer socks and the Australian flag as a cape screaming something obscene in Mandarin or something. you just know i'll land on a balaclava'd burglar who's carrying a phenomenally huge pile of money and when the police come to arrest us both (him for... you know, being a burglar and me for being stark raving mad and clad only in the flag) they will for some reason which has no basis in the plot, recognise me as the long lost king of... Lithukyrgianiastan or something stupid like that.
don't mind me, i'm rambling, but that's what my life's been like in the last couple of months. give up, stop thinking about things too sensibly and suddenly you're having a great fucking time.
um... that kinda went off on a tangent which not only had i not expected, but in fact was better than what i thought i was going to say. YOU SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN FUCKING SAYING THOUGH? (enter the Caps Lock - Are You Ready To Unleash The Fucking Fury??) WHY HAVE I BEEN TRYING TO FORCE THINGS WHEN ALL I HAVE TO FUCKING DO IS FUCKING GIVE THE FUCK UP?????
ooh, my keyboard isn't going to last a week at this rate.
in all sobriety though, i am more than slightly freaking the fuck out at the moment. i moved to Canberra under similar circumstances, and that's been fun and good for me. that's all that's keeping me from a padded room with nice angel-people bringing me pretty colourful pills at the moment. and getting kissed a lot (it really helps). if i was someone sitting around listening to someone tell me the story of what i've been doing and what i've got planned, i'd be telling me i was nuts. it's too extreme, certainly.
"Maybe just go for a holiday," or
"If you give it another year and save up it'd be much easier," or even
"What do you mean your mate's girlfriend is breaking up with him so that she can come along for the trip?
there are plenty of things i'd be saying to me, if i was being sensible that is, but since i'm patently not then i can more or less hold my head up and say
what the hell? why stop it when everything seems to be going so well? if i complain too loudly the gods might notice and put a stop to it.
i hate to suggest that i'm going to be doing a whole lot more stupid stuff in the coming weeks, but you know it's true. my wild drive to Tidbinbilla on the weekend is a classic example. i should NOT have been pushing myself as hard as i was, but i did. the only reason it's really excusable is that we all got out happy and safe and that i was able to bring things back under control when they got a bit too freaky.
this is far too much thinking about this topic, but i'm going to have to stop this soon. i've been letting myself get out of control, which has historically been a Bad Thing. i never can do foolish in a small way. sure, it starts out harmless, but then has this habit of escalating rapidly and... uncontrollably. i have no idea of the solution to this issue, except that if i manage to get on the flight out of Sydney with all my anatomy in its current configuration and my psyche... um... in no worse state than it is already, i should be ok.
i choose not to fight the thought that hugs and kisses will make things better. i just need to find and strangle the voice which is reminding me that i really do know that it'll just make things worse. it doesn't matter. i never liked that guy anyway.
still not sure where i left my brain...
this has been one of Those weekends. the sort where you get to the end and ask yourself
"wait, no, was that only 3 days?"
yes, we had a long-weekend here in Canberra. let's move on, ok? i'd like to get some sleep tonight, and i'm going to get it, oh yes.
this weekend i have been busy. i have been pleasantly surprised, knocked off my feet, slammed into things and spent an alarming amount of time skidding sideways. i have, at various times, drunk too much, eaten too little, thought too often and planned too rarely. i have oscillated between being completely and totally gobsmacked and having my mouth run on hyperspeed. i have watched hours disappear in moments and moments stretch to days.
and that was just sunday. confused? get used to it. i've been living here for years. i'll put it to you like this:
life just got interesting again and managed to leap from inspired boredom to off the fucking scale in the space of... oh, 80 hours (and remember here that i had to have slept for SOME of that), and once more i've landed myself in a fantastically awesome situation which none-the-less beggars belief. it's been the sort of story you hear in the pub about the friend of a friend of a friend and has been so obviously embellished that you never can be quite sure as to which parts are truth and which apocryphal. alright, maybe i exaggerate. or do i? the lines in my head between "normal" and "alternative" have been blurring here and there over the years to the point where i wonder at the quality of my own perspective. i've been to some weird and wonderful psychological and social places in my time and to this day i get confronted by situations i'd never expected to find myself in. makes you wonder a little what this same situation would have been like for someone who conformed to the "normal" box... but then if i were normal i wouldn't have wound up in this situation.
would have sucked to have been me in that case...
here's a couple of non-chronological vignettes for you to sip on for a moment:
consider the dichotomy that it is to be considered poor form to accidentally slide a roofless sports car out sideways at over 120kph in close proximity to a 25-30metre drop-off down a series of 40kph-rated S-bends while listening to trance remixes of the music from a game released in 1994, an hour or so into a first date. except for when you manage to save it.
consider my surprise that the appropriate answer to the question "So are you going to get around to kissing me any time soon?" IS IN FACT "Whenever you're ready...". i was as shocked as anyone else, i assure you. similarly, i can assure you that i didn't get to finish my sentence.
consider how convenient it is that when you lapse into a state of mild-shock with large portions of your psyche dribbling out of your ear that it is entirely possible that your date and your most recent Ghost Of Girlfriends-Past will choose to be politely unaware of your obvious discomfort and continue on with their Perfectly Polite Conversation across you, and that if you have the incredibly great fortune to be interrupted you should thank whomever it was from the bottom of what's left of your heart after it's mangled remains have been recovered from being Specifically Not Fought Over.
consider, however, that regardless of the internal system damage incurred, it's worth it to sit by the ring and watch a Kitten-who-thinks-they're-a-Tiger actually meet a real one who's sitting back in self-assured confidence wearing an incredulous expression which screams "you reckon, do you?" on all frequencies outside the audible.
oh dear, you know, if i didn't already live here i'd never recommend moving into My Head. the decontamination fee would be far higher than the purchase price. why did you think it was so cheap in the first place?
i really wish that last night's sleep had gone better. after a huge day that never seemed to end but was nonetheless over too quickly, you'd have thought that i'd have slept the sleep of the righteous... or at least the dead. instead, 6 and a half hours later i was awakened to a phone call and was soon on the move again. i've not been properly right all day and running on the secretions of the adrenal medulla and the fruit of the coffea tree. tomorrow i need to be at work and at least nominally alert which is, of course, why i'm lying around blathering on a blog at a quarter to one in the fucking morning. hey - i never said i was SENSIBLE about any of this. if i were SENSIBLE i'd have run for the fucking hills ages ago.
fuck sensible. sideways into the deep end is far more fun... and my how deep the water is.
i'm rather looking forward to my ride to work tomorrow. i think i'm going to need the concentration i only ever really get at extreme lean and foolishly high speed swerving between traffic to get my mind in order again after the last few days. or maybe the hard-reboot of pharmaceutically-induced sleep. i'll work it all out later when thinking isn't so difficult.
"wait, no, was that only 3 days?"
yes, we had a long-weekend here in Canberra. let's move on, ok? i'd like to get some sleep tonight, and i'm going to get it, oh yes.
this weekend i have been busy. i have been pleasantly surprised, knocked off my feet, slammed into things and spent an alarming amount of time skidding sideways. i have, at various times, drunk too much, eaten too little, thought too often and planned too rarely. i have oscillated between being completely and totally gobsmacked and having my mouth run on hyperspeed. i have watched hours disappear in moments and moments stretch to days.
and that was just sunday. confused? get used to it. i've been living here for years. i'll put it to you like this:
life just got interesting again and managed to leap from inspired boredom to off the fucking scale in the space of... oh, 80 hours (and remember here that i had to have slept for SOME of that), and once more i've landed myself in a fantastically awesome situation which none-the-less beggars belief. it's been the sort of story you hear in the pub about the friend of a friend of a friend and has been so obviously embellished that you never can be quite sure as to which parts are truth and which apocryphal. alright, maybe i exaggerate. or do i? the lines in my head between "normal" and "alternative" have been blurring here and there over the years to the point where i wonder at the quality of my own perspective. i've been to some weird and wonderful psychological and social places in my time and to this day i get confronted by situations i'd never expected to find myself in. makes you wonder a little what this same situation would have been like for someone who conformed to the "normal" box... but then if i were normal i wouldn't have wound up in this situation.
would have sucked to have been me in that case...
here's a couple of non-chronological vignettes for you to sip on for a moment:
consider the dichotomy that it is to be considered poor form to accidentally slide a roofless sports car out sideways at over 120kph in close proximity to a 25-30metre drop-off down a series of 40kph-rated S-bends while listening to trance remixes of the music from a game released in 1994, an hour or so into a first date. except for when you manage to save it.
consider my surprise that the appropriate answer to the question "So are you going to get around to kissing me any time soon?" IS IN FACT "Whenever you're ready...". i was as shocked as anyone else, i assure you. similarly, i can assure you that i didn't get to finish my sentence.
consider how convenient it is that when you lapse into a state of mild-shock with large portions of your psyche dribbling out of your ear that it is entirely possible that your date and your most recent Ghost Of Girlfriends-Past will choose to be politely unaware of your obvious discomfort and continue on with their Perfectly Polite Conversation across you, and that if you have the incredibly great fortune to be interrupted you should thank whomever it was from the bottom of what's left of your heart after it's mangled remains have been recovered from being Specifically Not Fought Over.
consider, however, that regardless of the internal system damage incurred, it's worth it to sit by the ring and watch a Kitten-who-thinks-they're-a-Tiger actually meet a real one who's sitting back in self-assured confidence wearing an incredulous expression which screams "you reckon, do you?" on all frequencies outside the audible.
oh dear, you know, if i didn't already live here i'd never recommend moving into My Head. the decontamination fee would be far higher than the purchase price. why did you think it was so cheap in the first place?
i really wish that last night's sleep had gone better. after a huge day that never seemed to end but was nonetheless over too quickly, you'd have thought that i'd have slept the sleep of the righteous... or at least the dead. instead, 6 and a half hours later i was awakened to a phone call and was soon on the move again. i've not been properly right all day and running on the secretions of the adrenal medulla and the fruit of the coffea tree. tomorrow i need to be at work and at least nominally alert which is, of course, why i'm lying around blathering on a blog at a quarter to one in the fucking morning. hey - i never said i was SENSIBLE about any of this. if i were SENSIBLE i'd have run for the fucking hills ages ago.
fuck sensible. sideways into the deep end is far more fun... and my how deep the water is.
i'm rather looking forward to my ride to work tomorrow. i think i'm going to need the concentration i only ever really get at extreme lean and foolishly high speed swerving between traffic to get my mind in order again after the last few days. or maybe the hard-reboot of pharmaceutically-induced sleep. i'll work it all out later when thinking isn't so difficult.
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