A little work, some shrinkage, and now caffienated wanderings.... a wholy sound Tuesday. Avram weighs more than I should carry on my back, but I wanted to get out and both blog and walk.
It's been an odder day, though, with this unexplainable edginess that borders on amphetamine sketchiness. It might be arising as I tug and twang on nerves, awakening some subconcious neural connection that feels really old. It's a horrid thought if this is some childhood thing, which means the behaviour is was probably switched on all the time back then. Still, might have been necessary, considering my placement on the youth social scale was below psycho-geeks, and just above those who never took off their trenchcoats. Least I'm hoping that is what this is. Honestly, alot of personality reactions are simply inexplicable lately. Long as I don't take up a meat cleaver, and run after men yelling, "Play Misty for me, lover!" I should be alright.
I'll expect more of this, realistically, as I explore around the edges of my psyche, while I build a basic set of new skills. Square one time. Just sitting quietly is a humongous challenge. I'm considering if I want to take some kind of classes in meditation, I just have to find one open-minded, and not loaded down with obtuse New-Ageist claptrap, or badly interpreted Orientalism for the block-headed Westerner. There is a Zen Buddhist temple in Queen Anne, I think. That's pretty much what I want, the skill of just sitting there and being quiet as you filter out perception into purity on mind. I have to trace back in prep further, still. Like taking the stiffness out of my body along with the stiffness of my mind. Back pain is a hell of a distraction. I actually did physical therapy exercises yesterday. I am working over my resistance on yoga, which I always believed was contradicted by my hyperactivity. Translated, I convinced myself I twitch too much for yoga. And I will have to start cutting corners to afford any of these options.
I'm having a harder time in principle with this physical angle, since I've lived so much in the "Body is Meat" cyberpunk-esque mindframe, and anyways, there is plenty of evidence, how this path is beat by many an organic Seattle liberal, wandering around in Birkenstocks, with a rolled up exercise mat stuffed in their knit Peruvian backpacks. As a Western Anarchist, the right path would better involve getting so drunk on bad booze that I go blind, and have a philosophical epiphany when I am peeing on my combat boots in a scuzzy alley behind a gay dive bar. But I don't hold my drink that well.
Maybe I can just rent myself out as a tipsy heretic for parties and Bar Mitzvahs, to give any urban gathering that proper overdramatic pretenscious flair.
Time to walk.
It's been an odder day, though, with this unexplainable edginess that borders on amphetamine sketchiness. It might be arising as I tug and twang on nerves, awakening some subconcious neural connection that feels really old. It's a horrid thought if this is some childhood thing, which means the behaviour is was probably switched on all the time back then. Still, might have been necessary, considering my placement on the youth social scale was below psycho-geeks, and just above those who never took off their trenchcoats. Least I'm hoping that is what this is. Honestly, alot of personality reactions are simply inexplicable lately. Long as I don't take up a meat cleaver, and run after men yelling, "Play Misty for me, lover!" I should be alright.
I'll expect more of this, realistically, as I explore around the edges of my psyche, while I build a basic set of new skills. Square one time. Just sitting quietly is a humongous challenge. I'm considering if I want to take some kind of classes in meditation, I just have to find one open-minded, and not loaded down with obtuse New-Ageist claptrap, or badly interpreted Orientalism for the block-headed Westerner. There is a Zen Buddhist temple in Queen Anne, I think. That's pretty much what I want, the skill of just sitting there and being quiet as you filter out perception into purity on mind. I have to trace back in prep further, still. Like taking the stiffness out of my body along with the stiffness of my mind. Back pain is a hell of a distraction. I actually did physical therapy exercises yesterday. I am working over my resistance on yoga, which I always believed was contradicted by my hyperactivity. Translated, I convinced myself I twitch too much for yoga. And I will have to start cutting corners to afford any of these options.
I'm having a harder time in principle with this physical angle, since I've lived so much in the "Body is Meat" cyberpunk-esque mindframe, and anyways, there is plenty of evidence, how this path is beat by many an organic Seattle liberal, wandering around in Birkenstocks, with a rolled up exercise mat stuffed in their knit Peruvian backpacks. As a Western Anarchist, the right path would better involve getting so drunk on bad booze that I go blind, and have a philosophical epiphany when I am peeing on my combat boots in a scuzzy alley behind a gay dive bar. But I don't hold my drink that well.
Maybe I can just rent myself out as a tipsy heretic for parties and Bar Mitzvahs, to give any urban gathering that proper overdramatic pretenscious flair.
Time to walk.
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