I’ve got a case of the “fuck off”‘s – and there’s nothing wrong with that.
What’s probably not ideal is how I manage the people around me when I get them. My technique as it stands right now is nothing. I don’t manage at all: I don’t communicate; I don’t acknowledge; I don’t do. Everything around me usually goes into a shit storm and then I’m left with shattered relationships to clean up afterwards.
I need a polite and mass way to tell people I’ve changed my mind. Any expectations you might have had of me, I decided to put on hold until I deem ok to resume.
I came across this Photo Of The Day project, via fstoppers, which spanned 18 years of one mans life. I was moved by the story, amazed that one photo showed the dynamic range of life, and ultimately saddened from the last photo’s documenting his death.
I struggle with repetition and patterns. Always have.
I’m sure there’s some sort of child-like fight internally happening. Probably a neurological neighbour that still makes my face cringe as an adult while trying to eat my veggies.
I’ve tried various things to create routine. I see the importance and the power of it. And yet when I try, it slips through my fingers ( And, no. 20 days does not make a habit. I’ve had things I’ve done longer vanish ). It’s like this unconscious struggle telling me “No, no. You did that yesterday, so how’s about you don’t do that today.”
No solutions here
I have no solutions today. Just a comment and a question. How do you get yourself to do something every day?
I’ve been going for too long, too many things on my plate, too many wrenches, too many curveballs, too much time away from my bed, too much stress.
But I don’t think that’s not why I’m drained. I think I’m this exhausted because I haven’t done a good enough job in filling the tank. Fuel is having fun, fuel is reading a good book, fuel is writing, fuel is drawing, fuel is music, fuel is a quiet coffee in the morning, fuel is no plans. Fuel is finding more fuel.
I don’t get tongue tied. I get tongue tired. A case of the Silence. Today is one of those “nothing to say” days. Sometimes they are great for reflection, or great just to take a break. But sometimes it’s more unconscious censorship. This way, me and myself don’t have to fight over why I’m being quiet. Considering this project is supposed to help me uncover, rather than shutting up – I’m gonna take some time and power through. Come up with something – and chances are, it will be pretty close to the mark.
Here are just a few reasons I think I might sensor myself and not know why:
Depression
I get these bouts. And saying them out loud is helpful – I’ve heard. Although I still have a lot of trouble with the concept. Who wants to hear about sadness online? It’s like this social media leprosy. So when sad, my writing goes personal – offline; hidden.
Possible solution: Focus on why. Perhaps there’s a topic I can talk about? i.e. “Yesterday I read an article about the 4 things that keep employees loyal, and I have none of them. That fucking sucks”
Anger
Anger has always been a challenge of mine. You see, I have a conflict aversion. To get up in anyones grill and call them a fucking ass, either directly to their faces, or indirectly, where they could tie the words “fucking” and “ass” back to me, scares the crap out of me.
What if what I say goes against the grain: The grain of my day job. The grain of my relationship, the gain of smarter people, the grain of life in general? Saying things in a room with some friends is one thing, saying them out loud in public could be a cause for a shit storm either professionally or personally.
Possible solutions: Baby steps. This, right here, what I’ve written is a baby step. Attaching my face, my voice is another. Little by little.
Creative commons featured image courtesy of Isaac Mao
Things aren’t supposed to last forever. I know, I know… we ( the cultural we ) want them to. But no matter how hard we fight, it’s not supposed to.
I’m liking this trend to delete what you’ve made. The most recent,twitterspirit. It reminds me of life: conversations I can’t remember, forgetting where I put my keys, enjoying a moment because it’s fleeting.
And in the fleeting – we take time to share, the time to learn. We make an effort to engage our memory. We pass down stories and skills. We teach our children. We create an impression, and that impression is what should last.
creative commons featured image courtesy of stuartpilbrow
While I’m a big fan of Prismatic, I feel there’s something missing.
It’s refining, and refining, and refining what I read and what I want to read, but lately it’s feeling very one sided – my techie geek/start-up side. It’s perfectly understandable why, and I’m not going to say it’s wrong. But…
I am more than that. I think we are all more.
As websites strive to refine our behaviours they don’t account for the anomalies in our lives. They will never be able to create an algorithm for our Guilty Pleasures where we step outside of dominant patterns, and of course look over our shoulders, “Is anyone watching?”
They assume we always look at the world with the same rose coloured glasses – but our patterns can be more complex then that.
I might love techno pop when I’m feeling at my lowest.
I might watch RomCom’s when my partner is away on her businesss trips
I might need an article about art & design when I’m stumped on finding a solution
I might quietly love an argument, wanting opposing views to be pissed at
These things can’t be quantified or algorithm-ed. These are the pockets that make us unique, make us dynamic & distinct, make us human.
