Why isn't there a politician out there whose whole platform lies on the premise of raising the standard of living for every person in their country? To provide clean water, nutritious food, stellar education and shelter are the most important things to everyone. All this talk of war and gay marriage and economy should always take second place to the question: Are my people happy and healthy? Everything else is secondary.
Once a society has all it needs to survive, to sustain itself, then and only then can it worry about anything and keep a clear head and conscience about it. Right now, we are in a state of spiritual, mental, emotional and physical chaos. How are we expected to be able to react to anything in a calm, cool and collected manner? We abuse ourselves, brainwash our children, bomb our mother moon, poison our own life source and never take a moment to just stop and think about it all. Because when we do, we recognize the utter stupidity in our actions.
We have the technology to provide everything necessary for life to every person on this planet and yet we wage war for resources, resources which can be officially written off as obsolete. Oil doesn't have to rule us anymore! We have infinite options, infinite potential for innovation. We can do anything! And yet we spend all our energy and resources on war machines and fear mongering. Our entire focus needs to change.
Stop it with the hate, stop it with the bigotry and "bipartisanship" charade. The secret's out! Everyone with eyes and a brain knows Congress has been corrupted, the government's fucked! It's obvious and inescapable at this point. We need to stop boxing ourselves, labeling this box as 'Democrat', that as 'Conservative', those as 'Terrorists', etc. etc. Aren't we all only human? Only mammals trying to survive and procreate and have some sort of stability and, if at all possible, happiness?
We are the most advanced life form we know of and yet we kill one another more often and in greater numbers than any other being. Over stupid, petty shit. Like whether this dude or that dude said this or if it was actually him saying that or really it was her who said it and, if so, then that changes everything because she was rumored two thousand years later to be a harlot.
Get over it.
There is only one truth and that is: WE DON'T KNOW. Sure, it can be hard to acknowledge but once we do, we can move on to start maybe, tentatively, thinking something, or feeling something or even accepting something as probably true. Theorizing and postulating will replace believing and mandating. There is a certain freedom in realizing that nothing is for certain, nothing can be taken for granted. It releases you to be and do and make and think and trust whatever you want to. All of these rules and regulations we've set out for ourselves are slowing us down. We need not wage war or advance our wartime technology (for God's sake we already have enough firepower to destroy every planet in our solar system!), we need not squabble over the right to get high while people are starving.
What we are doing, what politics has turned into, is a bullshit waste of time. We need organic food and untainted water and a roof over our heads. And then we can decide who gets the IPad and whose prophet's dick was bigger. The measuring stick should only come out after everyone's treated like a human being, after everyone is finally able to live without fear of hunger and thirst and punishment for crimes committed generations past and nasty, man-made illnesses and so many other easily avoidable discomforts.
Once, we were 'endowed by {our} Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.' I think it's time we act on those Rights and really start Living.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
how?
How do we decide what's important? How do we decide where to start? How do we decide who to save and who to sacrifice? How do we know what's right, who's wrong? How do we be unbiased and incorruptible?
Sure, you can't get high (legally) but some people can't eat, can't speak out against obvious tyranny, can't escape daily persecution, abuse and rape.
We can be so god damned arrogant.
How do we free ourselves from ourselves?
How do we clean this slate?
And once we do, how do we not fuck it all up again?
oh, the humanity!
ps. does 'how' look absurd to you, yet?
Sure, you can't get high (legally) but some people can't eat, can't speak out against obvious tyranny, can't escape daily persecution, abuse and rape.
We can be so god damned arrogant.
How do we free ourselves from ourselves?
How do we clean this slate?
And once we do, how do we not fuck it all up again?
oh, the humanity!
ps. does 'how' look absurd to you, yet?
Monday, January 25, 2010
thoughts
Some crazy stuff has been happening. Such as:
-Today, I talked to this guy for the first time although, going to a tiny college in a tiny town I had, of course seen him around before. We ended up sitting across from each other at lunch and guess what?! We have the same birthday (as does another friend of mine, I found out two days ago). Not only that but when we finally introduced ourselves he recognized my name because he's met my aunt and uncle. It's a small world, after all!
-I've been working on my first short story for a Creative Process class I'm taking. It's about an eighty six year-old man. Two men of about that same age group have randomly interacted with me, one complimented my stockings, the other mocked my sweet dance moves in Hy-Vee. I don't recall any old old men talking to me directly and playfully in my life, other than family and family friends. I think they pick up on my current experimentation with thinking like one of them.
-Memories have become more real than ever before for me. I'll be sitting, surrounded by people and something will set me off and I'll be in fourth grade, being called out for stealing Pierce Richardson's NerdRope. These recollections are more vivid and detailed than I have ever experienced memories to be. I can actually really feel what was going on as well as see and hear and sometimes even smell. Maybe it's that I never let myself be truly present when those things happened and now that I've learned to open myself up, to be receptive and nondiscriminatory, I can go back and do it all over again. It's a blessing, that much I know. If I had been open and fully aware at the time of some these memories, I would have been broken. I had to shut myself off to a lot when I was a kid so that I could become the person I am today, the person who is strong enough to feel what that little girl couldn't. Funny, I always thought I was being brave and strong by putting up these walls between me and my emotions. Now I know better, I know that it takes far more courage to face the facts, the feelings than it ever took to deny them and put on a happy face. That was difficult in an entirely different way. A cowardly, distancing, egotistical way. The way of a scared child. So I forgive myself my past failings and move on, by going back and really living my memories the way I couldn't in the first place. It certainly is an adventure!
-Today, I talked to this guy for the first time although, going to a tiny college in a tiny town I had, of course seen him around before. We ended up sitting across from each other at lunch and guess what?! We have the same birthday (as does another friend of mine, I found out two days ago). Not only that but when we finally introduced ourselves he recognized my name because he's met my aunt and uncle. It's a small world, after all!
-I've been working on my first short story for a Creative Process class I'm taking. It's about an eighty six year-old man. Two men of about that same age group have randomly interacted with me, one complimented my stockings, the other mocked my sweet dance moves in Hy-Vee. I don't recall any old old men talking to me directly and playfully in my life, other than family and family friends. I think they pick up on my current experimentation with thinking like one of them.
-Memories have become more real than ever before for me. I'll be sitting, surrounded by people and something will set me off and I'll be in fourth grade, being called out for stealing Pierce Richardson's NerdRope. These recollections are more vivid and detailed than I have ever experienced memories to be. I can actually really feel what was going on as well as see and hear and sometimes even smell. Maybe it's that I never let myself be truly present when those things happened and now that I've learned to open myself up, to be receptive and nondiscriminatory, I can go back and do it all over again. It's a blessing, that much I know. If I had been open and fully aware at the time of some these memories, I would have been broken. I had to shut myself off to a lot when I was a kid so that I could become the person I am today, the person who is strong enough to feel what that little girl couldn't. Funny, I always thought I was being brave and strong by putting up these walls between me and my emotions. Now I know better, I know that it takes far more courage to face the facts, the feelings than it ever took to deny them and put on a happy face. That was difficult in an entirely different way. A cowardly, distancing, egotistical way. The way of a scared child. So I forgive myself my past failings and move on, by going back and really living my memories the way I couldn't in the first place. It certainly is an adventure!
Monday, January 18, 2010
myheadhurts
I'm trying hard to be a grown up. Finding an apartment, job, cell phone service, taking care of myself and my stuff and my family and moneymoneymoney. Is this what it is to be an adult? To be stressed out about things you don't give a flying fuck about but are obligated to worry over? I'd really just like to live. Learn to play guitar and ukulele and paint and write and make friends. This is what I want. Just to be. But the world is all wonky and it won't let me. Even if it did, though, I wouldn't let me because I would know that there are ridiculous children out there just like me who aren't getting the benefits of my free ride and I feel a burning desire to help them, to fix everything. I don't think happiness is possible for me. At least not now, at least not true, perfect happiness. It's all just too crazy and screwed up. I want to feed the hungry and teach the ignorant and hug the unloved and enliven the zombies and march and scream and dance and laugh and shake the very foundation of our societal thought processes!
I want to make it all go away. Leave behind only the starshine and unconditional love from which all this was created in the first place.
Sometimes, I feel so powerless. Then, someothertimes, it terrifies me how powerful I am. I'm just discovering wherein my power lies. Is it in my fingers? or my heart? or my brain? or my hair? or my speech? or my spleen? Dunno dunno dunno. Dunno anything.
Except!!! I know that we can fix all this. It's just going to take some sit-down chit chats, some serious heart to heart with all the world leaders. Obama needs to admit he's a tool and give up the real perpetrators of the most heinous crime in the history of the universe. The abusers and murderers and liars and thieves running this whole fucked-up sitcom. And then we need to send them to therapy and put compassionate, loving, logical, flexible, reliable, funny, peaceful, REAL people in charge of our world.
In conclusion, I blame all my stress and headache on the establishment. So there. Take that, corporate machine!
I want to make it all go away. Leave behind only the starshine and unconditional love from which all this was created in the first place.
Sometimes, I feel so powerless. Then, someothertimes, it terrifies me how powerful I am. I'm just discovering wherein my power lies. Is it in my fingers? or my heart? or my brain? or my hair? or my speech? or my spleen? Dunno dunno dunno. Dunno anything.
Except!!! I know that we can fix all this. It's just going to take some sit-down chit chats, some serious heart to heart with all the world leaders. Obama needs to admit he's a tool and give up the real perpetrators of the most heinous crime in the history of the universe. The abusers and murderers and liars and thieves running this whole fucked-up sitcom. And then we need to send them to therapy and put compassionate, loving, logical, flexible, reliable, funny, peaceful, REAL people in charge of our world.
In conclusion, I blame all my stress and headache on the establishment. So there. Take that, corporate machine!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Musings
My muse is silent.
When this happens, I have trouble writing anything.
Especially under pressure.
I rely on my muse for inspiration and words in general.
When it doesn’t whisper, I’ve nothing to say.
Hark! I here her sweet voice now!
My muse is a hummingbird hovering above my head, dipping down periodically, pollinating my brain with ideas and phrases. There is a thin but strong strand of understanding, love and the common impulse to twine to another being connecting us all the time. She can fly long and far but I know she’ll be back. She needs me as a means of expression just like I need her as a means of inspiration. No other entity could do the work we do for each other. Without her, my mind is stagnant, silent, void. She enables me to live in words and to communicate with my fellow man on a literal level. She gives me the tools to realize my experiences, feelings, thoughts and postulations. She is my conscious. She knows I’m special.
Isn't she just great?
And back to silence.
Hushhhhh...
When this happens, I have trouble writing anything.
Especially under pressure.
I rely on my muse for inspiration and words in general.
When it doesn’t whisper, I’ve nothing to say.
Hark! I here her sweet voice now!
My muse is a hummingbird hovering above my head, dipping down periodically, pollinating my brain with ideas and phrases. There is a thin but strong strand of understanding, love and the common impulse to twine to another being connecting us all the time. She can fly long and far but I know she’ll be back. She needs me as a means of expression just like I need her as a means of inspiration. No other entity could do the work we do for each other. Without her, my mind is stagnant, silent, void. She enables me to live in words and to communicate with my fellow man on a literal level. She gives me the tools to realize my experiences, feelings, thoughts and postulations. She is my conscious. She knows I’m special.
Isn't she just great?
And back to silence.
Hushhhhh...
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Not a Morning Person
In the morning, a beast inhabits this body. She pretends to be human, pretends to be me but she is, in fact, a crazy demon bent on destroying my life.
It is very hard to make it worth it for that hellion to exit the snuggly tangle of blankets and cushion. Even if the night before I set an alarm specially designed for a joyous awakening, knowing that it is vital for my body to be up earlier than noon, even if I go to bed with the best intentions, the monster that opens my eyes will always hate me, resenting my attempts to assuage its rage and tearing through even my best-laid traps with sheer lack of will and Sleepy Logic. This particular brand of logic only makes sense to one half-asleep and utterly uninterested in rising to greet the day. Up-and-at-'em Clare thinks: 'My hair is greasy, I'll need to get up half an hour early to shower tomorrow.' Morning-time-Frankenstein Clare thinks: 'Fuck it.' And hits the snooze. Repeatedly.
I feel like Catdog sometimes. Dog doesn't want to abandon the safe and comforting haven of bed and will put it off so much that Cat won't have time to brush the nasty fungus off his teeth. Dog bites the postman (or, in my case, punches her sister in the face) and Cat suffers the consequences.
It's a conundrum of the highest degree.
The worst part is that she holds power over my favorite time of day. The morning hours when everything is new and clear are such a good time to be up, taking advantage, enjoying. I've always envied early risers but have never been able to join their ranks because of this stubborn, selfish bitch inside me.
The freak must be leashed!
...maybe tomorrow.
It is very hard to make it worth it for that hellion to exit the snuggly tangle of blankets and cushion. Even if the night before I set an alarm specially designed for a joyous awakening, knowing that it is vital for my body to be up earlier than noon, even if I go to bed with the best intentions, the monster that opens my eyes will always hate me, resenting my attempts to assuage its rage and tearing through even my best-laid traps with sheer lack of will and Sleepy Logic. This particular brand of logic only makes sense to one half-asleep and utterly uninterested in rising to greet the day. Up-and-at-'em Clare thinks: 'My hair is greasy, I'll need to get up half an hour early to shower tomorrow.' Morning-time-Frankenstein Clare thinks: 'Fuck it.' And hits the snooze. Repeatedly.
I feel like Catdog sometimes. Dog doesn't want to abandon the safe and comforting haven of bed and will put it off so much that Cat won't have time to brush the nasty fungus off his teeth. Dog bites the postman (or, in my case, punches her sister in the face) and Cat suffers the consequences.
It's a conundrum of the highest degree.
The worst part is that she holds power over my favorite time of day. The morning hours when everything is new and clear are such a good time to be up, taking advantage, enjoying. I've always envied early risers but have never been able to join their ranks because of this stubborn, selfish bitch inside me.
The freak must be leashed!
...maybe tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
JA Meeting
Hi, my name is Clare and I'm a judgaholic.
Hi, Clare.
I've heard that the first step to recovery is recognizing that you have a problem. So, here I am, recognizing. I have an unhealthy addiction to jumping to conclusions, preconceptions and stereotyping.
At first, I thought I had control of my judgments but it has become clearer and clearer that I am not wearing the pants in this relationship. Prejudice rules my life. It affects my whole world. I lie to cover up its strangle hold over me; I am ashamed.
I have always judged judgmental people most harshly, they're hiding from something, they don't have the courage to break this terrible habit and face the world head-on, they surrender control of their perception, mind and karma to an ugly outside entity because they are scared. Now I know how helpless they are, we all are, how strong and clever this demon is. It feeds on human nature. It whispers, "You need me. This world is far too much for you to handle on your own. You are just a lost and confused child without me to organize everything and everyone into systematic little piles, boxes to be neatly stacked. I ease and order life for you. This is a partnership." What it doesn't mention is the cold, robotic, soulless tendencies of its generalizing, the parts that it overlooks for the sake of its system, the beautiful, unique humanity in everyone. I have found myself persuaded, time and time again, to give in and allow one tiny, insignificant stereotype, just one harsh write-off, one "well, I didn't want to be your friend anyways." But, as everyone in this room knows, one turns into two so easily. And two into three and three into four and four into a round on me for everybody and, before we know it, we're waking up with a pounding headache in an unfamiliar and potentially hostile environment, our delicate veil smashed to pieces around our naked feet...
Well, I say No More! No more assumptions, no more preconceived notions, no more write-offs, no more boxes. Just love. And best wishes all around.
As Plato so succinctly put it: Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
Hi, Clare.
I've heard that the first step to recovery is recognizing that you have a problem. So, here I am, recognizing. I have an unhealthy addiction to jumping to conclusions, preconceptions and stereotyping.
At first, I thought I had control of my judgments but it has become clearer and clearer that I am not wearing the pants in this relationship. Prejudice rules my life. It affects my whole world. I lie to cover up its strangle hold over me; I am ashamed.
I have always judged judgmental people most harshly, they're hiding from something, they don't have the courage to break this terrible habit and face the world head-on, they surrender control of their perception, mind and karma to an ugly outside entity because they are scared. Now I know how helpless they are, we all are, how strong and clever this demon is. It feeds on human nature. It whispers, "You need me. This world is far too much for you to handle on your own. You are just a lost and confused child without me to organize everything and everyone into systematic little piles, boxes to be neatly stacked. I ease and order life for you. This is a partnership." What it doesn't mention is the cold, robotic, soulless tendencies of its generalizing, the parts that it overlooks for the sake of its system, the beautiful, unique humanity in everyone. I have found myself persuaded, time and time again, to give in and allow one tiny, insignificant stereotype, just one harsh write-off, one "well, I didn't want to be your friend anyways." But, as everyone in this room knows, one turns into two so easily. And two into three and three into four and four into a round on me for everybody and, before we know it, we're waking up with a pounding headache in an unfamiliar and potentially hostile environment, our delicate veil smashed to pieces around our naked feet...
Well, I say No More! No more assumptions, no more preconceived notions, no more write-offs, no more boxes. Just love. And best wishes all around.
As Plato so succinctly put it: Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
blogblogblog
My whole soul family has gone ballistic. We're all crazy emotionally unstable. All of a suddenly? Maybe. Maybe I just never noticed before. Maybe it's something in the stars or a scratch in my own personal lens. But it's definitely real. Time is speeding up and happenings are happening more often and intenselier and lessons are being shoved down our throats and everything is flying around at such a rate that I feel like Dorothy, or maybe Toto. The cyclone is closing in around us. And it's accelerating, choking us almost to death with joy then fury then sadness then passion then grief then witchery then celebration and around and around it goes. Where it stops? Nobody knows! All the objects that are being so fitfully wielded are more real than anything ever was before.
The Titanic has hit the iceberg.
And, rapidly, the world became really vivid. The picture has always been a little shady, static has plagued the screen but now someone out there decided to get their fat ass off the couch and make the effort to adjust the antennae. I’m not quite sure whether they know what they’re doing or not, yet. It’s definitely a process of trial and error all around. But now we are honing the ability to really watch ourselves and find out who it is that reacts and who responds and who hermits up and who stars our very own reality show. It’s beautiful and overwhelming, a shot with strong side-effects, consisting most basically of growth and development. It’s good medicine. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and we really do always have an empathetic shoulder (oh, clichés, how I lovehate thee). We truly are going places. Fast. I find that’s the only way to go these days.
The Titanic has hit the iceberg.
And, rapidly, the world became really vivid. The picture has always been a little shady, static has plagued the screen but now someone out there decided to get their fat ass off the couch and make the effort to adjust the antennae. I’m not quite sure whether they know what they’re doing or not, yet. It’s definitely a process of trial and error all around. But now we are honing the ability to really watch ourselves and find out who it is that reacts and who responds and who hermits up and who stars our very own reality show. It’s beautiful and overwhelming, a shot with strong side-effects, consisting most basically of growth and development. It’s good medicine. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and we really do always have an empathetic shoulder (oh, clichés, how I lovehate thee). We truly are going places. Fast. I find that’s the only way to go these days.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Parenthood
I think I killed my houseplant.
It was my dad's and when he started moving all over the planet, he bequeathed it to me. I dubbed it 'Plantelones' and vowed to love and protect it for as long as I could. And then I went and exposed it to sub-zero temperatures for an extended period of time. When I discovered my mistake, the soil was frozen through and the shoots growing in water were actually stuck in solid ice.
I'm going to make a great mom one day.
It was my dad's and when he started moving all over the planet, he bequeathed it to me. I dubbed it 'Plantelones' and vowed to love and protect it for as long as I could. And then I went and exposed it to sub-zero temperatures for an extended period of time. When I discovered my mistake, the soil was frozen through and the shoots growing in water were actually stuck in solid ice.
I'm going to make a great mom one day.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Hello and Welcome
I'm Clare. You are my invisible audience. Thank you in advance for listening. Or not. Either way, I'm going to keep talking.
Blah, blah, blah, bahahahahaha!
Anyways, here's a little list of fun facts about me:
-I like to make lists
-I am in a constant state of flux
-I have way too much stuff
-I love a warm bed in a cold room, eyes that crinkle on the sides when the person smiles, armchairs that cuddle you back, dragons, snow, learning things, peaches, random facts, theorizing, postulating, wondering, hypothesizing and thinking in general
-I am an open book
-I feel ways about stuff (and that's about as far as I've got in defining my own inner-workings)
-I'm pretty sure I'm unique
-I'm definitely going to change the world
-I know some of the best people ever
-I have an oral fixation
-I have infinite potential
-I'm confused most the time
-I have undefinable taste. It's very eclectic and random, even I can never be sure if I'm going to like something until I do. Or not
-I like ee cummings, Orson Scott Card and Tom Robbins
-I believe in everything
-I live in Iowa currently
-I'm kind of in a cult. By which I mean I'm not totally committed to a definite cult
-I see rainbows in my glasses
I've decided to start a blog because I like to write stuff and I like people to read what I write. Mostly. And also because a very good friend of mine gave me some really good advice the other day. Basically, she told me to do something honest and outside my comfort zone every time I get the chance. So here I am. Typing highly personal information for anyone anywhere to see and judge. Please, judge me! And then tell me what you think 'cause I really have no clue. I'm on a wild ride, doing the best I can, trying to keep up with the erratic changes of tide.
So there. Now you know some stuff about me.
Stick around, the best has yet to come.
Blah, blah, blah, bahahahahaha!
Anyways, here's a little list of fun facts about me:
-I like to make lists
-I am in a constant state of flux
-I have way too much stuff
-I love a warm bed in a cold room, eyes that crinkle on the sides when the person smiles, armchairs that cuddle you back, dragons, snow, learning things, peaches, random facts, theorizing, postulating, wondering, hypothesizing and thinking in general
-I am an open book
-I feel ways about stuff (and that's about as far as I've got in defining my own inner-workings)
-I'm pretty sure I'm unique
-I'm definitely going to change the world
-I know some of the best people ever
-I have an oral fixation
-I have infinite potential
-I'm confused most the time
-I have undefinable taste. It's very eclectic and random, even I can never be sure if I'm going to like something until I do. Or not
-I like ee cummings, Orson Scott Card and Tom Robbins
-I believe in everything
-I live in Iowa currently
-I'm kind of in a cult. By which I mean I'm not totally committed to a definite cult
-I see rainbows in my glasses
I've decided to start a blog because I like to write stuff and I like people to read what I write. Mostly. And also because a very good friend of mine gave me some really good advice the other day. Basically, she told me to do something honest and outside my comfort zone every time I get the chance. So here I am. Typing highly personal information for anyone anywhere to see and judge. Please, judge me! And then tell me what you think 'cause I really have no clue. I'm on a wild ride, doing the best I can, trying to keep up with the erratic changes of tide.
So there. Now you know some stuff about me.
Stick around, the best has yet to come.
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