15 Sept 2011

I am thinking negative thoughts.

Big surprise that I’m feeling negative feelings.

I believe IN Heavenly Father and Jesus. I trust that negative consequences will come from missteps and transgressions, but I don’t really truly believe that positive consequences will come from wise, faithful actions.

I mean, I’m not super negative about the whole universe, but I’m being pitiable and downright lame about myself.

Being lame is lame. It’s not what God wants for me. It’s not what anybody wants for me. And it’s the best way to guarantee my being the least useful possible to any and everyone else.

I’m making impulsive decisions which, if they’re not ruining my life, are making it more tangled and painful.

I’m letting stress rule me.

I’m letting fear intimidate the shit out of me.

I’m fighting cynicism in most of the right ways, but secretly giving into it in a few internal ways. The terrorists risk winning, here.

I am overwhelmed because of pride and ambition, and I’m trying to fight it with pride minus ambition. How much offing sense does that make? What a dummy.

I am trying to carry all the groceries in from the car at once, instead of making two or three trips. The zillion plastic bag “handles” are cutting off my circulation like a gangster assassin with a piano cord. The peanut butter just dropped. No big deal, right? Plastic jar: we’re still cool. Get it when you come out to bring in the mail – WHICH IS A SECOND TRIP ANYWAY. Dammit. What is the point of this? Oh yeah, my weird misappropriated prideful altruistic worldsaving self-tripping ambition. Oh dammitdammitdammitthesaladdressing. The nice salad dressing with that organic kéfir shit that I rationalized was worth buying because the glass container meant it was more artisanal and even if the calories are the same it’s better for you to eat something with some soul and that’s worth paying 40% more, because really $3.99 isn’t so bad for something that’ll last at least a week, probably two or three because you’ll forget it’s in there until you notice it again and, well, anyway, it’s niagarafallsing its way down the front steps, and don’t let the cat lick at the broken glass because that’d be inhumane, right? It doesn’t realize, but you know better.

How come you know better for the cat but not for yourself? It’s the same damned thing, in the end. “Drrdrrdrr, I’m John, salad dressing and broken glass, it’ll be fine, drrrdrrdrr…” Idiot.

I mean I’m not an idiot. But I am. I’m smart enough to realize how dumb I can be.

Anyway, I like myself. I actually like myself a lot. I like the music I write, I like the stories and jokes and drawings I do. I like my general outlook on life, my attitude toward humanity, my interpretation of the universe and morality and religion and all that stuff. I’m very comfortable and impressed with myself in what is, I think, a pretty healthy way.

Yet I am being self-protective as hell because I am stuck pessimistic rut where I’m literally half-convinced that I will not be hired to do anything even remotely related to my interests or talents, and that whatever jobs I will get will leave me too spent and distracted to create opportunities for my talents to take off.

Dumb, huh? What’s the point of even living with that mentality? It contradicts everything I subscribe to and preach, for one thing. Second, it’s illogical. It’s basic statistics – which, by the way, is the only damned thing keeping me from graduating and having that overfed, imperious monkey off my curbed back!!!!!! Odds are that, whether I get all famous and rich and stuff, I’ll AT LEAST be able to make a living being my best self and doing what I do. Worst-case scenario, it takes a decade or two of paying dues before I really get to be full-time or have any recognition.

Well, what am I whining for? That’d still be great! I don’t have a need to be rich, nor famous. All I need is to produce and be satisfied with the product. I’ll know when it’s good. Other people, in whatever numbers, may or may not recognize the worth of my products. Up to them. If they do, I’ll be honored. If millions of them do and they pay me dollars for it, that’s super neat and I’ll have a really nice bathtub and fresh, high-quality socks for life or whatever.

The point is that I can do it, and I will do it if only I’ll do it. Be patient. I mean, don’t be patient – get the hell on it. Get going. Get it done. But also be patient. It took all the masters years – multiple years. Many multiple years for most. So if you want to be a master, just keep the hell at it. Go go go. Don’t waste time feeling sorry for yourself. If you do, you’ll still get there, but you’ll have wasted time and energy you could have spent being happy and enjoying the moments and people along the way.

Whoever you date and don’t marry will be okay. You’re a nice guy, so you’ll give more than you take and they’ll walk away from it having gained something good. Whoever you marry will be okay, because you’ll be a nice guy and try to give more than you take, so even if she messes up, herself, and it ends in another divorce, you’ll still have done right by her, and that’ll give you the clearance to go on being okay. And in all likelihood, lighting won’t strike your poor dramatic ass twice and you’ll end up with someone both awesome AND healthy, and you’ll stay together and it will rule. It will just rock the shit out of the concept of happiness. Be patient.

You might have to wait a few years. You might have to date for long periods a few times or even be engaged a couple of times and break it off when it doesn’t feel right. You might break or at least crack a few hearts. Don’t get too self-conscious about that. You’ll never do that on purpose. You’ll do your best not to. You’ll do your best to help with the cleanup and repair to whatever extent it’s appropriate for you to try. And you’ll back off and let some other nice guy come in and kiss her better when that’s the best thing for you to do. Just listen. Listen to yourself. Listen to God speak subwoofing peaceful words straight into your chest. Do your best to do what’s right.

Don’t let the sound of beating yourself up, of your own fists’ blows falling on your own ears, drown out inspiration.

Don’t refrain from doing bad or less-good things because they’ll get you in trouble or rack up a debt, refrain from doing bad or less-good things because they’ll hamper and damn you; they’ll distract you from the good and even-better things you could be doing.

And when you’ve done bad or less-good things, get the fuck back on that horse and catch up to the sunset. Don’t waste time whining. Don’t waste time apologizing to the horse or the horse’s owner. The horse gets it. the horse forgives you. the horse just wants to run around and be awesome so cram in and get on and let’s go.

It’s going to be awesome, you magnificent self-conscious bastard. It’s going to be awesome. Even if it’s not incredible, it’ll be awesome. It’ll be awesome because, even though you’re an idiot and a fuckup and a weakling, you’ll still do it and do it pretty danged well. And that’s awesome.

You’re going to win. You’re going to win because we CAN all be winners. The game is rigged in that it’s up to us. The universe likes us when we try hard to be good. God likes us when we try hard to be good. Even though our environment can be harsh and brutal and unforgiving, it’s also somehow simultaneously the perfect picture of beautiful mercy. The Earth wants us to be happy and okay. Our Father Who Art In Heaven for damned sure wants us to be happy and okay – that’s His whole point. After all, He gets it. So does Jesus. Anything you’re worried about and anything you’re flat-out jazzed about – they get it. They’re with you. They were just like you, and you can be just like them. That’s what your nice little books and your special underwear and your clean buildings and your this and your that and all your everything is all trying to get you to acknowledge and accept.

So get your homework done.
Eat a few fewer peanut butter cups tomorrow than you did today and go ahead and give yourself some credit for it.
Do a little cardio.
Chill out.

Control yourself. Self-confidence and self-control may well be closer to godliness than is cleanliness.

Maybe drop this and focus on helping somebody else out, for a change. No shortage of people who could use a hand, some attention. That might just be a win-win situation, a shortcut to realizing that you’re really okay.

Yeah? Yeah. Be happy.

Yay.

Amen.

…
..
.

Yaymen?

Heh.

[Artwork used without even asking for permission at all from Maddison Colvin. thepoindextress.blogspot.com]

Most of my thoughts and foci, though, are pretty damn cheerful, they’re just all at My Tumblr.

• band practice has been going well… feeling like dancepunk is the way to go

• counted up my original songs the other day… have more than I thought

• made first student loan payment… gay… oh well, still a pretty good deal for all the experience and perspective I’ve managed to cram into my two majors and 1.5 Honoursy thingies

• calculated how much “I have cost” over the past 7-8 years, not that bad, especially considering how I’ve lived about 30 years of live in those 7…

• I am dirt poor, though… going to move back to Orem for a bit so I can buy an amp…

• saw Paul with Steve… went to Good Earth for happypeanutbuttergooughballs and somehow struck myself in the eye with a shopping cart…

• then that hard day with Lando that caused me to reflect on whether it’s actually better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all… I think it is? recorded a whole vocal pndering on the subject while walking around at midnight after seeing The Fighter…

• crashed that Shamrock n’ Roll party by hopping blinding over the fence… cool entrances are important

• cool entrance didn’t make up for me losing Flip Cup for our team :(

• ballsily getting that girl’s phone number after doing Britney’s “Toxic” at
karaoke, though, may have made up for it…

• Aunt Ami visited! dinner at G’ma’s…

• got my 4th iPhone in a row thanks to warranty coverage – and ran into Jason Torfin at the Apple Store! been meaning to talk to that guy! I’d love to work with him…

• Hanging out with the Robbinses, tried on a pair of fancypants stylish-man shoes that Brandon brought home – they fit my monster bear feet! FTW

• got a wisdom tooth extracted… Dr. Johnson’s (of Orem) office was teh shiz good… a couple hours later I was at play practice and I’ve been unswollen and functional all week with only small regular doses of Ibuprofen… and also blood was trickling down my throat for a couple of days… so I covered the taste by eating lots of dark chocolate… and I realize that my favourite colours are blood and chocolate…

• director’s having Tristan be more selfish… this is good in that it helps me not just play myself for the role but have to stretch a bit

• guest director came in and worked with Mallory and myself and totally hit the spot as to what needed doing… he even just gave us time to talk and bond as people, which was definitely overdue… opened up about a TONNNN of stuff in a very short time and, yeah, we became legit friends at least a little bit… supergood…

• managed to get someone to cover for me so I could do the Idaho/Montana roadtrip with Greg, Max, and Luke… so very very glad I did that… good to rewrite some roadtrip memories, to reuse my two-person sleeping bag – :( – to meet strangers and crash on floors and have adventures and eat things and stare at landscape and swap music and tell stories and get to know one another and philosophize and bond and meet family members and see childhood locations and breed inside jokes and become better friends and… yeah… a great 4 days!

• now I’m back home, about to move back to old home… I’ve been amp shopping for hours everyday and that’s taking the sting out of it…

• some All Creatures Great and Small before bed, methinks… let’s just pray it doesn’t have me crying again… I watch this show with the idea of being calmed and cheered before bed, not enweepened!… honestly, I don’t know how many more nights of bitterly wistful stress dreams I can endure… I am surely due for at least another yearish of loneliness, and I’m prepared to handle that, but these dreams are honestly such a kick in the crotch!… please just let this episode of ACGS feature healthy, amusing dogs and sheep and not sad ones…

Been pondering the possibility that I may remain a principled, idealistic bachelor the rest of my life — that I won’t cross paths with the right woman and that settling for less than the right woman is not an option. I think that could be okay. I have a mission. I have themes and stories and ideas to pursue and express. Art can be my mistress.

——————–
26 December, 2010

On this very special Boxing Day, I’m compelled to think back on the halcyon days of our forefathers – boxers, most of them – who dedicated their lives to boxing things up in boxes and setting their dogs – boxers, likely – to guard them while they took brief, joyous breaks to box one another in small black box theatres…

Okay, so I don’t know what boxing day is. Let’s talk about Jesus.

I like Jesus. He is the best. He has always been my best and most reliable friend, and I’ve really come to appreciate that stupendous fact over the last 5ish years. He has had my back at every dodgy or threatening juncture and, perhaps most valuable of all to me, He’s been the epitome of a good example – the purest and most practically principled pattern to follow in my quest to be a Good Guy.

So here I am taking this appropriate opportunity to put it down in black-and-white digital notation that I really love Him. I know He is alive. He’s a real person, with a body not so materially unlike mine, just eternally upgraded. He went through all the same steps that I have to – that anyone has ever had to – and more. Anything I could ever want to do or will need to do, He has already done and done perfectly – and if I’ll shut up and get over myself for five seconds and ask Him for a little help, He’ll give it to me.

Our Heavenly Father is real, too. He’s really our Father. He’s my father, he’s Jesus’ father, he’s your father. We (out of some doctrinal and cultural pragmatism) spend a lot of time identifying Jesus as the Father’s Son, but I tend to find more comfort and hope in reminding myself that I’m a son of God, too, and that Jesus might be most accurately identified as our perfect older brother. There’s less intimidating distance when I think of it that way– not so much perfect God and perfect Christ tag-teaming to lord over the rest of us and make us feel hopelessly miniony, but rather like a FAMILY. God has got it all. He understands everything. He knows everyone. He can do anything. And Jesus, being an on-top-of-it sort of eldest son, is right there at his heels, not even a step behind. And that means that any lag or gap between the rest of us and our Older Brother is catch-up-able. That’s challenging, yes, but not really intimidating. It’s hopeful, and I’m pretty sure that’s the Point of the gospel.

So I’m glad that Jesus did all that He did and does all that He does. I’ve only a very limited and eternally immature conception of just what all that is or could be, but I know a few key nuggets of awesome truth and they have kept me alive; they will keep me going through all the crazy crap that will inevitably go down in my eternal lifetime and they will permit me to scramble to the top every time, where I can see the sunshine and survey the coolness of the wide world. That’s what Truth’ll do for you if you cling to it. I will cling to it. I thank God for it.

Amen.

P.S. Also, I am thankful for Star Wars. I’m convinced I’ll be able to build a working lightsaber in Heaven, and I’ll admit that’s a pretty huge motivation for me, too.

“The Winter” – Cake

The winter’s chill chilled me to the bone this year
And something in my mind just got away
Being in the places where we used to be
Somehow being there without you’s not the same.

Parking lots, office parks and shopping malls
And all you left were bills you hadn’t paid.
The winter’s chill chilled me to the bone this year
And something in my mind just got away

It’s all behind you now,
You’re moving on.
They’ll never find you now,
You’re moving on, on, on.
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, naa
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, naa

Alcohol, cigarettes and luxury goods,
Christmas lights look desperate in this room.
Winter’s light left me in the dark last night
(c/cake-lyrics/the-winter-lyrics.html)
And Jingle Bells are smothered in this gloom.

Winter’s trees freezing in the bitter wind
And autumn’s leaves have all been blown away.
Being in the places where we used to be
Somehow being there without you’s not the same.

It’s all behind you now,
You’re moving on.
They’ll never find you now,
You’re moving on, on, on.
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, naa
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, naa

It’s all behind you now,
You’re moving on.
They’ll never find you now,
You’re moving on, on, on.
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, naa
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, naa

[Some things going through my head as I sit here, wearing my suit, slumped in a chair in a loungey area on the 4th floor of the Effsmith... ]

- I can’t help but frequently stop and stare at and take photos of and want to paint pictures of Squaw Peak, especially during the various stages of the afternoon and evening as the light shifts and brings new character to the crags and faces. It is my Mont Ste. Victoire, even though I am not Cézanne.

- Bishop confirmed/reminded me that temple recommend Qs are “Are you truly striving?”, not “Are you stumbleless?”.

- Thinking on the recent revival of cruelties at the hands of abusive people, I feel like sharing my understanding of the definition of abusive… ab-use… misuse… unrepentant misuse which doesn’t even promise to try to change

- I really feel like a widower more than divorcé… I watched that lucid, sympathetic person I loved so much and tried so hard to support die right in front of my eyes… I saw her suffocated by the cold, irrational and unsympathetic avatar that took her over… it honestly feels like the climax of a movie, where she’s dangling off a cliff or a bridge and I’m begging her to not let go of my hand… but she does, because climbing to safety is “too hard” and “not worth it”… except that, when she lets go, it’s me and the cliff and the whole solid world which rush away from her… I feel like I’m the one falling and falling into oblivion…

- at BYU I learned how to learn… became a relatively capable autodidact… not sure about which path to take next… much less which (or even IF) grad school… maybe a creator, maybe a facilitator and expounder and advocate…

- feel a little conflicted about my ponderous state… I hardly read anything, I hardly sit down and read whole books or watch whole films… I rarely get anything all the way DONE, either… instead I ponder… I take little bits and ponder them for relatively great stretches of time, analyzing them in their own right and then going through and cross-examining that little bit against all the other bits and chunks and mountains of facts and concepts I’ve already got stored up in my mind… In this way it takes me an hour to get through a page of something… It’s terribly inefficient, yet, in a way, it’s much more efficient than breezing somewhat superficially through a whole thing and having even less than a few bits of it stick…

The legalities are taken care of. It’s buried. I will put flowers on its grave from time to time, but I’ve directing the rest of my resources to somebody who wants them.

Les-voici, the relevant lyrics within a couple of songs I discovered in the nick of time, each one, as though Heaven-sent. They aren’t exactly perfect for every aspect of the situation, but they pretty much say it.

FOR THE RECORD: I have already said it, but… my official position regarding Margaret is that I only ever wanted her to be happy and healthy, and I will always keep a little prayer for her in-or-at-least near my heart. I will never speak ill of her and wish to waste not one iota of energy on negative feelings. Adieu.

(Obviously, the music for each of these is outstanding, so if somebody is reading this and doesn’t have the track already, that whoeveritis should Grooveshark it or something…)

“The House Always Wins” – OK Go

You don’t have to be alone to be lonely
You might as well give in.
You don’t have to be sick to be dying
You might as well give in.

“End Love” – OK Go

Oh sugar, oh sugar can’t you see how hard I’m trying?
You know you gotta, you know you gotta eventually make up your mind.
‘Cause no one’s gonna find you when you’re hiding in the dark.
No one’s gonna find you when you’re hiding in the dark.
No one’s gonna find you when you’re hiding in the dark. No one’s gonna find you.

So won’t you, so won’t you talk to me?
It’s time to decide.
‘Cause no one’s gonna save you if you don’t swim for the boat.
No one’s gonna save you if you won’t take the rope.
No one’s gonna find you when you’re hiding in the dark. No one’s gonna find you.

And it’s end love, the sky is falling.

So sugar, so sugar dance with me this one last time.
We got no reason, we got no reason I can see to hold back tonight.
‘Cause no one’s gonna catch you if you can’t just let go.
No one’s gonna love you if you can’t let love show.
No one’s gonna find you when you’re hiding in the dark. No one’s gonna find you.

And it’s end love, and the sky is falling.

Oh sugar, oh sugar can’t you see how hard I’m trying?
You know you gotta, you know you gotta eventually make up your mind.
And it’s end love, the sky is falling.

“Next Girl” – the Black Keys

I wanted love
But not for myself
But for the girl
So she could love herself

A beautiful face
And a wicked way
And I’m praying for her
Beautiful face every day
All that work
Over so much time If I think too hard
I might lose my mind

My next girl
Will be nothing like my ex girl
I made mistakes back then
I’ll never do it again
With my next girl
She’ll be nothing like my ex girl
That was a painful dance
Now I got a second chance

For a week which began with Valentine’s Day and ended with one of my best friends’ weddings and then this “memorial day”… I have, I think, maintained a pretty good sense of optimism.

Two years ago, today, I went from the happiest moment of my life-to-that-date to one of the saddest and hardest, all in a matter of seconds. The shock of it reverberates in my skeleton to this day, but I look forward to fully overcoming it before long.

Got married the morning of February 20th, 2009. In the temple. For eternity. At least I thought that was the deal. I honestly made every effort I could to keep it an eternal thing. I tried. It still hurts when people out there suggest that I didn’t, but the facts show that I tried myself almost to death. And I’ll never regret trying.

But… just one person trying isn’t enough for that sort of thing.

Yaddayaddayadda… I wrote a bunch of details here, but they don’t feel so appropriate for a blog. I’ve already expressed most of those sentiments in previous posts, anyhow.

Long story short: today was a hard day to spend still sitting shiveh.

So. Here I am. A dead man with his whole life ahead of him.

Everything’s going to be much-more-than-fine. Things will work out well at least and terrifically great at best.

I’m still depressed. I still feel like shit. But optimistic shit.

Even when my life’s been at its very worst, it’s still been pretty great – and I am recognizant and grateful for that. And I’m currently almost free of the Worst phase and not really far at all from the Best Ever phase.

I’ll never speak ill of Margaret. I will always be her friend. But I am anxious to find someone who can be at least 101% of all the good things she was. It’s a tall order, but it can happen. I think I have faith that it will.

Sidney’s gone, but there’s a Hyrum out there somewhere. And you know what? Hyrum is better than Sidney. Hyrum will never leave you even when you try to push him away. Hyrum goes to jail with you and scrapes your tar and feathers off and gets shot alongside you because he’s not effing going anywhere because he’s awesome.

I recorded this tonight after having it stuck in my head for a few days. Big Star is awesome.

Try Again (Big Star cover)

I think this will be about my last post on this effing depressing subject. Sometime soonish Mr. Courtclerkman will get off his butt and give me the official papers, at which point I’ll put the lyrics of a few songs that tell the story “in memoriam” and then I’mmmmmmmmmmmmdonewithit. Done with sitting shiveh.

Happy time. Very soon. Whew.