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Occasionally I get into one of those introspective, ponderous moods where life serves up the most interesting buffet of events and information that I can't help but wonder... and fix myself a plate...

A couple days ago, I was reading my Rolling Stone that I ordered to help out my nephew's school. Normally, Rolling Stone is a bit too... hm... pompous? maybe? for my tastes, but it was the only thing I saw in the page-after-page of self-help-monster-truck-parenting magazines and I'm quite in favor of class pizza parties, even for 6-year-olds. So I get Rolling Stone. And occasionally I like it.

There was an article about an artist I've never heard of. But his face was so interesting that I had to read about him. I could be showing my age. Or possibly my.... square-ness. But I'd never heard of Pete Doherty before this week. That was an excellent article in Rolling Stone. I highly recommend it. And I learned that even half-crazy crackpots can produce some truly beautiful writing:

      The parties and fantasy
      criminal or not plots
      must and will be enjoyed
      too good at getting high
      feelin the void
      avoid the malaise
      see the rise
      of a different kind


      But you're always welcome here
      I keep love handy, I keep it near
      And I take note of all of your witty reposts
      And I follow with the famous quotes and
      If i say I care, I really mean it


      Just as the sun turned away, and
      (thinking, in her stupidity, that it couldn't see or hear us) asked:
      'Will you love me forever?'
      'Of course not,' I said.


      Shall never be found deep
      inside her
      She's way too impressed at how he
      caught the spider


      Did a content person ever
      achieve anything except
      his own sunny expression


      A love letter
      full of roses
      I found,
      on my pillow when I awoke

Anyway. Beautiful stuff. If a little bit crackpot. Makes you wonder about creativity and artistry.

Of course, since I was poking around online, I found some other interesting things. Including this place: Welcome to Everything@Everything2.com. Apparently, it's a place for amateur writers to post articles. And ramblings. Including this gem (warning: adult and possibly disturbing content). Something about it seems so profound. And visceral. Made me want to cry.

Maybe life has just hit me hard lately. It often does. When I'm tired. And beset on all sides.

I disconnect.
I procrastinate.
I avoid.
"Well-secluded, I see all"

Until I can sort it all out in my head. And then I'm super-woman. But until then, I'm quiet and sleepy and maybe a little prickly. I'm not hungry. I don't want to watch TV. Don't want to be touched.

And then I'm a flurry of productivity. It's those times that I enjoy. I get my work done, and the house is clean, and the vacation is booked, and the family has all been talked to, and....

But not today. Today I'm reading about a half-crazy crackpot (maybe I say it too kindly?) and wondering what it's like to not care, to lose yourself like that, to not have to worry about the mortgage
and the cats
and the clothes
and the job
and the family
and the cars
and the weather
and the price of tea in China.

But the buffet is all you can eat. And I'm not really hungry. I already ate.

Say what you will. I live something of a privileged life. Have a nice car. Buying my second house at only 27. I have an awesome job with some of the smartest people in the world. What's not to love?

Except does any of it matter? What have I done lately that I'm truly proud of? That anyone else would care about? Have I helped the hungry? Or the homeless? Have I said something nice today?

I don't know.
I wasn't paying attention.

1 Comment

Quite an introspective. Perhaps you haven't looked in the right place yet to find your contentment. I love you dearly and am so proud of the person you have become. Don't let the world dominate your mind and your life. There is so much more that what today'e world has to offer.

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