An open and frank declaration
Thoughts
self-accepting
0Is it best to be self improving or self accepting?
Behaviorally, should I think…
a) i want to improve, i need to be less angry.
b) it’s just how it is, i get angry if something sets me off.
Habitually-
a) i want to improve, i need to be more tidy.
b) it’s just how it is, i put things where i feel like.
Abilit-ally
a) i want to improve, i need to be better at chopping tomatoes.
b) i just chop tomatoes how i chop them. if it is not good enough, chop your own tomatoes.
Grammatically
a) I should capitalize I.
b) i shouldn’t 
I really think it is case by case basis. But for the large things, treating people, career skills, major habits, I tend to be more of an improver than accepter. Especially when I consider something bad, or wrong. I think that’s the difference, screaming at a waiter for mixing up an order , to me is wrong, but to someone else they think it is deserved. IMO Just because there is reasoning to be low, doesn’t mean being low is a “good” option. Low can encompass morals, behavior, habits, and … grammar. I think we should strive for a higher standard in all of aspects … provided the output of effort has value.
i type therefore i am
0My fingers are the way I express myself. I provide my income, and people form opinion of me by the thoughts in my head translated with fingers through a keyboard. Well, whats notable about that? Perhaps whats missing, the immediacy is missing since its at a pace I can control, also it lacks visual cues. A frown, or harsh tone may exist, but with just words on a screen, it won’t be noticed unless it’s intentional.
Another way to communicate, which I dont use, is the phone. I hate the phone. The pacing is so slow, and forced. Plus you don’t get the visual cues either. It’s boring to me and frustrating.
What’s best, which is no surprise, is face to face, full communication.
It just sorta sucks when you don’t have that option. Sometimes it’s quite minor, sometimes it’s quite tragic.
Relationship shoebox theory
0I think the most common relationships are like shoeboxes. They best work when each person puts in a shoe of similar size and weight. Also, both shoes should fit in the box. Personally I have lots of shoeboxes and it works out pretty well by recognizing that.
Things change though when you decide to move a refrigerator. Maybe you start putting your condiments in there, a jar of pickles, tub of yogurt. If one person dominates all the tall items section like with milk, ketchup, juice cartons, it could crowd the other out, or it could be perfectly fine. Depending on the capacity of space, and nature of people. Again, just having the door close keeps the relationship happy.
You can move to the closet where jackets can go, maybe some space for some baggage, or odd things like a skeleton, or pet cougar.
Eventually, maybe with the special person, you just share a house, and all your crap goes in there and it all fits and this game is just over.
However, it breaks down when you have to go backwards. If you have already put a few items in the fridge, where do they go in the shoe box. Do you not put shoes in there any more? What happens to the big jug of milk? Its going to go bad, and its gross.
I think the only way to go backwards is if everything in the fridge got eaten and you dont need it anymore. Perhaps there are other boxes to store your luggage. Cause otherwise leaving stuff outside the box, I’d say is worse than having no box in the first place.
Good to the bone.
0Soapbox time. (Also in russian).
Just like any identity-searching twenty-something mind-wanderer, I’ve thought a lot of about the type of person I am. I try to be good, not with perfection, but direction. We all mess up, but when it happens, or before it happens, turning away from that, is what I define as good-by-direction.
But is being good who I am? or who I’m not? For my experiences? or lack of experiences? The choices I made? or the choices I didn’t?
The color blue is blue because it has no red or green. Or in the words of Mr. West – Everything I’m not, made me everything I am.
Being kind, good, sweet, honorable, really can be boiled down into doing the right thing, the altrusitic thing. This is a model of life I’ve grown up within, and as someone recently told me, she thinks my brother and I are дети любви = ‘kids of love’.
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God made sin? A mario analogy.
1A bit of theology time, personal thoughts, i’m not sure how sound they are, add comments, clean up my analogy, go nuts.
Some say God made Satan, God allows sin. Or that if He did, he can’t be good and therefore he doesn’t exist
Well, he made or allows a negative option, otherwise there is no positive option and there is no such thing as good.
In Mario, there are goombas that try to death-touch you, and holes that you can fall into. Was the game designed so that you fall into these traps? Or was it designed for you to use abilities and skills to overcome challenges and reach the finish? .. I’ll fill you in with insider game dev knowledge — it’s the latter. If it were the former, you wouldn’t have the jump button.
If there weren’t these traps, what would the point of the game be? Do you demonstrate anything if you run on a flat enemy-free hole-less surface to victory? Can you even call that victory? I don’t even want to play that game.
God gives us the ability to jump and dodge evil, the mushrooms to survive mistakes, the fireballs to combat them head on. (The coins for eternal life? pipes to other realms?) So in order for these things to be used, in order for us to rely on God, there has to be sin in the way. What will fireballs do if there’s nothing to shoot? How do you do good if there is no bad? Running across an empty flat level is not good or bad, its just nothing.
So yes there are holes, but if we, or others fall in, that’s not God’s fault. We are given more than enough chances to accept his help, in the past, and in the present and in the future. And we can always jump out of the hole, or try again, God forgives with extra lives (i wont get into unpardonablism) so the game is never over until you die. If you try to do it alone, without jump power, guess what, you are doomed. I don’t care how well you can run back and forth, you won’t get over any holes without God. Try it, boot up Mario 1-1 and start walking to the right, or the left. or watch me try.
anti-romance
1
Growing up, I used to have the honest “yuck gross” reaction when they would finally kiss at the end of a movie. I wouldn’t understand what emotions could possibly make someone give blind beggars hundred dollar bills to find a female. I mean, for a brother I understand the huge tight connection. I would do a lot for my brother and he for me. We basically grew up together and went through the same life, so I am tied to him, plus I know I can rely on him if needed, beyond any other person I could ever meet.
So if the guy who chases the girl has no relation, minimal contact and history, what is he really chasing and how does he know its life-riskingly strong? What guaranteed value can you find in the flowing hair in rays of sunlight? The kind eyes and tender touch who will heal all wounds? Every struggle is worth it for these intangible things. The feeling that is tied to our heart so deeply we scream out for it and spend 15 dollars to get a taste of it.
That all-powerful, never-ending, romantic love.
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I have egg nog
0This is a strange place in life
After watching an incredibly artistic, interesting, miserable movie; I went to the grocery store, late on a saturday night. It was very dead, in fact everything seemed like a scene out of 28 days later, or I Am Legend where the city is empty. I don’t know why, but I loved those scenes immensely. Last night I walked home at 5:30-6am and it definitely was an experience, why did I enjoy it, or did I enjoy it? I didn’t have joy from it. But back to today, I stood in the street, not listening to music and it just felt very something, or very nothing…
On my road,
– down the center,
– - as I often walk.
‘Tis quite cold,
– but not too cold
– - I have two jackets.
Bags in hand,
- infront of me I view,
- – a dark dim street.
The trees arc,
- faint lights shimmer,
- – calm wind blows.
No cars drive by,
- no passerbys.
- – No sound or motions.
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Literal or Figurative?
0I have
Walked aimlessly and desperately in a tropical storm in the middle of the night.
Seen batman on a bicycle in a megalopolis.
Found black Santa.
Talked to an NHL store staffer who didn’t know the CALGARY FLAMES.
Signed up for a tour for one which became a tour for none.
Tried on a thousand dollar replacement for a drawstring or properly fitting pants.
Found the One Ring to Rule Them All.
Walked by professional objects of ooglement, twice. (No, CFL girls in cowboy boots don’t count)
Slept in a famous .. and uncomfortable park.
Slept in an airport.
Crossed a forbidden zone and didn’t care when I was found. (Don’t worry mom, this one is literal.)
Saw the local language transform from night to day in the same place.
Walked through a major highway interchange… and back.
Been afraid to open the door to explore my surroundings.
Asked a waitress for electrical energy while I ate.
Backpacked an astonishing beach.
Ordered a hot drink on a very hot day.
Consciously donated to the grocery store.
Watched a movie and saw where I once stood.
Stood places I’ve seen in movies. (No zombies in grand central, or King Kong on Empire State)
Sent flowers that cost more than my currently worn fix-a-broken-heart shirt per flower.
Tried.
Cried.
Been in a romance movie.
Kissed a hologram.
Seen the night.
Seen the light.
Seen the might.
Needed a hug, needed counsel.
Found a hug, found counsel.
Been comforted by a smiling sea vessel.
Dodged a railed land vessel.
shoulders
0
Life gets you down
but who is around
when you all you want is to cry
or even straight up die
why are there so many corners
and where are all the shoulders
maybe they are on their own
or they have never known
how to be someone for someone
or to let themself be undone
(i am not the least bit suicidal, it just rhymed)
(cry in a corner? it is slightly disjointed. oh well)
(themself should be a word, i dont like themselves)
Second Identity
1I wonder about having a second identity. You know something on a passport so you can get into a country if someone is chasing you. Or so you can work and rob the place without them finding you. Except for I don’t really want to commit crimes, nor do I have any reason to run… perhaps there is a good reason to have an alternate identity, like to fight night crime and have a day job.
If I had to pick this name, it would be Reuben Walter Wilkerson so I could be reub-a-dub-dub.
In fact I bet we all have different identities. Ole Shakespeare’s famous quote is,
God has given you one face, and yet make yourself another.
I’m not going to write some big long post like I usually do, filled with judgment, self-analysis, generic guidance and cultural criticisms. Instead I’m just going to say
Who are you? .. Who are you really?
