I tend to live my life in one of two ways, function or non-function. I could be content with only a small amount of money, cable TV and a case of beer a day. I could make due...for a while. Then in the absence of everything the nothingness would cause me grief. I would find pleasure in anything that would keep me busy. Even my off days are usually very busy. At times I find myself on the far spectrum of function. Every minute of the day seems valuable as I try to allot the tasks of the day the proper amount of time. I seem happiest at a level that causes me some serious sleep derivation. Life rolls by like a fog and I operate in some sort of third party autonomic way. I could try to describe it but Martin Scorsese's "Bringing out the dead" (1999) does a very good job at setting the tone for the life I'm describing. The mood is a bit somber, but it did win two academy awards. What I'm talking about is the extreme tax placed on Nick Cage's character Frank Pierce. Desperately needing sleep, but with sleep comes nightmares and the knowledge that someone, somewhere is dying. One of my favorite lines is
"Oh, I see. With all the poor people of this city who wanted only to live and were viciously murdered, you have the nerve to sit here, wanting to die, and not go through with it? You make me sick! "
Life has been moving at a very fast pace and keeping up has been difficult, but I remember sitting at home and drinking beer all day and watching all the racing I could handle, giving me way too much time to think about things. Postulating on the same thing can only lead to an indefinite number of possibilities, most of which can be elected or discarded easily without affecting the outcome and in the end all you would have are thoughts. I think I remember something from the Socrates, Plato dialogues that I derived this from. A life of thinking would be only a beginning. So I choose to spend a little time thinking and as much time doing as possible. Life as I'm living it exists in the cracks of time of the things I feel obliged to do for the things I want to do. I'm moving in 2 weeks and will post pics of the place, before we move in so you can see what it looks like if we were just squatting in an abandoned North Scottsdale 2 bdrm apartment. I have seen the inside of my own dwelling less than 6 times this month, so technically the moving in part will mostly just be a convenience item where I don't have to disturb someone from their sleep so I can take a shower and rack out to go right back to work down the road. While school was in it was a major time saver and 4 miles for work isn't enough to even turn the key in the ignition at $3/gal. Athena and I are doing quite nicely, we are going out, which is an ironic term given the situation. We never get to go out anymore. She has been extremely supportive of my heavy work schedule, which leads me to believe that my abrasive personality has finely paid off. Thank you Chucky Cheese Janitor for being an inspiration, you were right all along. Seriously, I feel like my life has finally found some quality. I really don't know how to put it. We both feel strong premature feelings for each other and quitly suffer. There is no rush to name it, there is no description that could match it. It just is a very nice homginization of two self destructive individuals. It's like watching the ball drop on times square, you know there's going to be fireworks. (I've always liked fireworks, its the term novelty explosives that its associated with that I think is an irony, oh and there pretty)