Same Old, Same Old

With the new The Civil Wars album coming out next month, I guess I thought they were done with their hiatus, but I just read that these two are not even on speaking terms. That really is crushing to hear. Just listen to them! This is a new song from the upcoming album. 

That croon. Don't get me started.

That stupid transitional segment in the song (2:50-whatever) almost destroys it for me...but not quite. I heard this song, got really excited, then had a listen at this group's other music. And...they sound like a male version of Evanescence. Very dramatic, supposedly hard rock. I couldn't find a song I liked as much as this one--just love the piano and almost dissonant beginning. Mhmm..

I found this song looking at Lyanna/Rhaegar fan videos. Yes...I'm obsessed with Game of Thrones and that particular theory. And I may have one or two favorites. But I would feel ridiculous posting them....

Okay, HERE! Mock away, but I love the books so much and this theory just strikes a chord with me. If you don't know the theory/books, this won't make any sense. And fan videos can only reach a certain quality after all. Most of the Lyanna/Rhaegar fan videos are terrible...this is the best one I've found.

I suppose I should write about what's been happening in my life, but all I can see is the huge wave of change coming my way. Some of it's good, some of it's bad. And, of course, it's going to happen all around the same time.

But either way I am affected, I myself still can't seem to feel anything for life. I still feel emotions, naturally. I randomly find myself crying over the thought of losing my step-dad's cat while at work (because Mom and Bill are getting a divorce and he'll take her with him) and over other thoughts that just appear out of nowhere. I get angry over other things, feel an impish satisfaction over something no one else saw and doesn't matter in the long run, or, while driving home from work, I find myself keeling over in near-hysterical laughter at my own irrational feelings/choices/actions/reactions. Every day, I recognize some common mistake I make as it happens and feel like I'm greeting an old friend. And then I have to hold back from snickering over it all. None of these things are exactly positive, though I congratulate myself on being able to not take myself too seriously...when I can, that is.

But life, what is it? Where am I going and what's the point?

Am I whining again? Sorry.

Ugh.

Nothing better than coming home to the weird, tense silence of the parental-units every single night and the annoyed "oh yeah, you" look from Bill he gave me yesterday or the flat out ignoring bit he did today.

Right back atcha loser.

Or that awful genuine surprise that I've returned to their house (as I do at the same time every day). Didn't I stop existing as soon as I left for work?

I'm Sorry, WHAT?!!!

Dave Gahan has done SOLO ALBUMS?!!! One of the sexiest singers EVER??!! And he started doing this TEN years ago! Depeche Mode came out with another album this year??!! I've been remiss. A terrible fan. But not anymore. Hello Amazon. Give me the goods.

(Or maybe I'll hold off until I sample all the songs...and wait for my next paycheck...but it WILL happen!)

Floating

Today's just been one of those days where I screw up everything, everyone seems to be in a bad mood or getting in my space, and later I became furious (again) with one or two people, myself included. It's been fascinating to kind of watch from one side as the rest of me quickly degenerated effortlessly into an "I can't" being after I got home from work. It's not a thought, "I can't" it's a weird state of existence I can't describe, beyond the fact that it feels heavy. And life is heavy and meaningless, stupid.

And then I had a listening session with Sigur Rós and while I don't feel tons better, the music takes me out of myself. It's another kind of nothingness, but a good kind. Listen. Breathe. Life's a miracle. Even if it does seem pointless, it can be so beautiful.

Night Air and Mary Jane

Strange.

I haven't laid down in bed with the window open in a long time. I couldn't at Dad's, they were sealed shut upstairs. And up here in Washington, I just haven't thought about it. But I had to open the window last night; I hadn't slept well for the past three days. And it was such deliciousness to sleep with the window open, let the cool air in, hear the wind, and pretend there was no danger in leaving it open. And I slept so, so well.

But right now, in the late evening, my day winding down to its last minutes before turning out the light, I was listening to the sounds of the evening outside, the cars driving by on the busy road near this house and what I was reminded of surprised me.

I felt like I was back in Provo. Alone in my room, homework done, about to go to work...except that's wrong. That strange alone feeling I had while going to college, not a bad feeling, but a sort of separation and being away from family, making friends only on occasion. And yet everyday held the possibility of some great change, some great opportunity, small delights, a million things. I was alone but not alone. And the smells and sounds of night living in a town are so full and so empty, which is how I nearly always feel. A contradiction. It's both joy and sadness, excitement and stillness. Always present.

I wanted to write this down for some reason. There's no one to talk to here. Not that I've ever really been a talker. It reminds me of how Nikki and I lay down on the wood floor in her living room in San Diego and listened to a Sigur Ros album, never really talking at all, until Nikki said other people get high so they can do this. To let go and be somewhere else in their minds and everything's okay.

And it is. Everything is okay.

Anchored

Had a nice, slightly sad evening with Mom. We lay down on her bed for a while, looking out the open window, listening to the birds and the wind in the trees, not really talking (she had been crying in the kitchen earlier). Later, we went through some her books and movies and got together a good pile of stuff she doesn't want anymore. And she told me things, things I already knew but were good to hear. It made her seem even more human, more fragile, despite the strong front she puts up. She's going through a really difficult time right now. Echoes of what I've experienced came back to my mind, and as selfish as it is, it made me glad that I'm not going through the dark days anymore, the dark days she's experiencing now (and hasn't she had enough dark days, enough trials?) And, self-absorbed as always, it reminded me of how little my intense experience was based on, how quickly I fell to pieces, compared to the strong relationships others in my family have experienced, that had actual meat to them, that fell apart and warranted a strong reaction. But I don't feel ashamed. Just sort of empty.

I'm glad my sisters, my mom and I are all so close. They are my anchor.

No Agenda

I've had a lot of things on my mind lately. But I always feel like there's no point in writing it out or talking about it because there is no solution, or, no easy solution. And these things have been such constants in my life that I'm tired of even thinking about them. As soon as they pop up, I shoo them away into a dark corner.

Here's a list of what's been going through this crazy mind of mine:

-My mom's pathetic marriage/lack of communication skills/lack of self-worth or willpower in her marraige/emotional distance/dependence on something that is not strength/tunnel vision

-Dad's cancer and inaction has caused the cancer to spread/my strained present relationship with him/the inevitable reflections of the past abuse and what it did to me and how I cope or ignore it now

-My lack of inspiration with life in general. I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't want to be in a romantic relationship with anyone and not just because most of my family seems to fail at it. Living has lost its starry allure.

-Reading Half the Sky has opened my eyes even more to how lucky I am to be living in a relatively safe society...and it's confirmed to me how disgusting most men are after reading these gut-wrenching stories. I know there are plenty of good men out there and they have a lot to offer, but in developing countries, the majority of them sound like ruthless bastards with no respect for human life or value for the individual. It's all about having control, being physically stronger, and not letting anything lessen that image of dominance. It's the true biological definition of the male and further confirms to me that I will never be in a relationship. Even the good, non-violent guys are still outspoken, controlling, and always right. And it further confirms to me that there is no God. No god would have made men and women so physically unequal and so chemically different. Everyone should read this book, regardless of your beliefs, because these stories are true and everyone should be aware of the terrible hardships these women endure just by being women in these twisted cultures and poor economic states.

-This may make you laugh after reading what I just wrote above, but I've found that working in a predominately female work environment is kind of making me hate women too. Or maybe it's just American middle-to-upper-class women I can't stand. I hate how these women have to say every thought that passes through their minds, that every other sentence is a complaint or about a diet, or chocolate, or clothes, shoes, or jewelry, and it NEVER stops. And in all those voices that women put on--that is something I have NEVER understood--the voices are ugly and irritating!! All this, never-ending  for an 8 hour period. God, who gives a damn, right? It makes me miss the silent, competent men who can work through problems without making a fuss, who don't have to spill out their whole life story after knowing someone five minutes. Where's the self-possession, the logic, the perspective about what's important in life. I love details, just not details to anything related to any of those things listed above. I always end up with a headache after listening to their prattle (very womanly to have a headache, I know, hahaha).

-Am I focusing on the negative things of life? I have no idea of what you're talking about! Yes, yes, I do feel random scatterings of joy. They skip across my mind in unexpected waves and sweep me up and away into cold air and sunlight and I remember how good life can be. I've just lost focus on those good things while drifting in my ambition-less current (oxymoron?) and while I watch all my family members drift in their own personal whirlpools without ever trying to get out. And I watch them in wonder, thinking what crappy examples have been set before me my whole life in this effed up family of mine. But I can't place blame on them for my own choices...or lack of choosing. I have a strange tendency towards apathy, inaction, lack of responsibility, because, it's never been up to me, right? That's always been my mindset somehow, and it's screwed up and I need to get some effing counseling. Not that all my family is screwed up, but I look at some of my sisters and how well they've done in most aspects of their life, but when it comes to relationships, nearly all of us are...difficult, difficult to communicate with because we have screwed up reactions and super-sensitive self-defense alarms that are tripped at the drop of a pin...and we had crappy examples in our parents, the dominant, idiotic abuser and the contradictory abused woman with a genius-level of intelligence. Gawd.

-I can worship, pour over and absorb every beautiful thing in life, the arts, literature, music, the natural world,  memorize and experience again and again and never tire of it and yet I cannot, CANNOT give any of it back. It gets locked away in a blank mass in my brain that can't create even a remote echo of all I see and how beauty uplifts and soars through my spirit like a healing wind. That's where I came up with the metaphor of a black hole, taking in everything and giving back nothing. A pretty terrifying image of self-perception. I don't refer to it in my mind anymore, but I remember how that felt, back in the dark days. But what does that make these days now? Gray days, with splashes of bright blue like the glow of h...Yeah, something like that.

-I've been trying to type fast without thinking too hard or letting myself struggle over a word or two. I should do this more often. It gets a little of the frustration out so I can now go focus on studying for the midterm tomorrow and what else I need to get done . And maybe I'll watch a lecture on Egypt tonight--These Learning Company courses make me feel like I'm back studying Humanities again. It's a lot of fun. I miss it.

-P.S. Mom and Bill went to bed at 7pm tonight, in separate bedrooms of course, as has been the arrangement for over a year. Bleh. Let's get the ball rolling. Admit to being unhappy, get some marriage counseling, make an effing decision and do what we all already know is going to happen. A divorce. At least you two can say you tried...at the very end. Sell the house, downsize all the crap that's been accumulated and never looked at more than twice. I could probably go on and on about this, but since I live with this happening, I'm tired of thinking or talking about it with all the sisters, and..

-Mom thinks my obsession with music is ridiculous, after I teased her about checking out for solar flares every day and looking for disasters happening in the world, as there are always bound to be, that somehow confirm to her that the world is plummeting towards a hellish end...and then Christ will come, right??????????? Ugh. I think it's screwed up how she obsesses over this. But doesn't really prepare for an actual disaster that could happen here.

-I think I need to go cuddle the cat or smash something into the wall. Or go run while listening to some killer music. But it's dark outside now. Music is everything. In Tolkien's The Silmarillion, he says the gods created the world through music, harmonious, powerful music that brought life into being. That struck me so deeply and has stuck with me ever since, because music is something I can't describe or explain why it makes me feel the way I do, but it feels inherent, necessary, like a gasp of fresh air after drowning in the sordid depths of every day humanity.

-If you get me typing this fast without any plan or agenda, you get to see how my mind wanders quite a bit. And this is how it always is with me, skipping from the blank unhappiness of a gray, still sea to a whisper, a glimpse of transcendence. Thanks for the help, Pandora. Way to make my blood burn and sing.

Unsullied

God, I love this story.