beleaguering ennui

sometimes i write, with a passion. it seems as though everything is cut like a diamond. with a complete picture in my head. something so profound that i feel i just must share it.
then i reread it. having spent some time away from the subject matter in my poor little noggin. to forget some of the details. to objectify it, if only a little. and often i find out i was so in my own head that the resulting product is patchy, convoluted, disconnected and vague at best. it’s funny how that works. don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t diminish the initial profundity i ascribed to it, but it just makes me laugh.

these are thoughts which extended from a "chat" i was having with a friend (i put chat in quotes for lack of a better way to distinguish this one’s importance).
there is this theory in my head that we all have amazingly similar experiences.
we admire those that we share experiences with. a very passive view, but not without example in life. the phenomenon of chance, and randomness, subjectivity and taste. point of view and opinion.

so i am an artist. sometimes i say things that, you in your time and place are not wanting to hear or connect with – i don’t mean that to imply that i’m "more experienced" or "better" because that’d be bullshit – but rather in the sense that we all arrive at fundamentally similar points at different times. we all yearn to be loved. to.
if i am "successful" in my creative endeavors than this theory may be judged "correct" if not then who knows.

yeah, just go to the page about annie
-i should keep my fingers still about the bulls (:

it’s amazing, how much i can change my mood, well being and general state of mind. amazing how i can perceive something one way for so long, yet in an instant, alter that perception, radically… stupendously… beautifully and all it takes is a thought, observation or light bulb! if only i would realize life is that simple more often, perhaps i’d have spent less time thinking i was doing not what i wanted to be doing, but instead realizing i was doing exactly what i wanted to be doing at that moment, because after all it is not possible to do something i do not want to do, geesh… heady

so my mother gave me a gift this last holiday season, and it consisted of a little card she had written, in the handwriting that seems exclusively perfected by the mothering sect of our society, "and for you my son, four lessons with louise in teas and tinctures." now for some reason, i’ve been inspired to hold off calling her until recently but alas i’ve just returned from my first session, and it was in short, very cool.

for some reason that i’ve not sorted out yet, there are times when i have trouble processing "lessons" people want to give me in a timely fashion. for instance, both my parents very often have things they would love to teach me and for some reason, they may actively teach, i may appropriately listen, but still months go by before the impact of that lesson will hit me.
generally i prefer to think of it as a timing issue. at the time when they were giving, i wasn’t ready to hear. now, try and get back to the original thought… my mother somehow got it in her head that without my expressing prior interest, i would be into this. and she is right to think that, and at times it quite nearly becomes frustrating thinking that someone can know me "that well". because it is often people who think they know me "that well" who make the grandest assumptions about me, like the cop, who on a routine stop, was near livid that i did not have any pot, "come on… your birkenstock wearin’, hippy, patchouli, jerry garcia wearin’ ass??" haha i guess the difference is my mother wants to know me. that cop "already does". i think he got every single one in the book… oh wait, he forgot to mention phish.