I've been away for a while. You've noticed? Well, I haven't actually gone anywhere, in fact, that seems to be part of the problem (at this point I would be happy to see any form of progress, no matter how small). I've been mentally vacant lately; I've been unable to find inspiration in anything but reading Brothers Karamozav, and rehearsing with the band. I haven't been doing my spanish homework, and I have been neglecting my Linguistics reading. Lord knows sorry states are my home; I spend each day moving to and fro-- from one form of degeneracy to another-- without ever getting anywhere. So what is the source of the problem? I'm not going to answer that online. Some things need to find their way...on their own.
But, enough of that (much of that is just drama for the sake of my entertainment) Most people wouldn't know it, but I'm a very gifted story teller; I'm a magician in my mind. From my youth I've been known to play unaccompanied hour after hour...my mind makes movies (and I get to star in them).Some things are sicker than others. Don't let this trouble you.
Other things are going well. I'm going to be giving some inspirational speeches at Heidi's high school in the month of December: she told her teacher about my work with inner-city high school kids, and the teacher invited me to come speak with her class. I hope to be a voice that brings clarity and hope with regards to attending college to those students.
The band sounds great and we're going to the studio december 10th. I can't wait to hear the final product. My prayer is that God blesses our hard work, and that our talent and ability comes through on disc.
My family seems to be healthy and happy. I've been talking more with my sister, and I've even made a connection with her boyfriend... These things are a blessing not to be underestimated.
I guess my question is (it may be more of a comment) why does there have to be regression? Good times are nothing without bad times...yet the bad times...well their bad. I'm reminded of Tori's words: "why can't it be beautiful; why does there have to be a sacrifice?" Or perhaps even more precise is Morrissey's lament: "I've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine..."
A thought just occured to me. What if I'm simply living out the story I find myself so entrenched in? What if I'm allowing my already strong relation with the story of the Karamozav's to become my life? I could very easily begin a psychological exploit merely to fancy my heart. The thespian in my soul could be so eager and primed (from lack of exposure) that it has, in a sense, taken over my psyche and began to influence my behavior. Almost as if subconsciously I ask, "what would Alyosha do just now; how would Ivan answer this question?" Better yet, I may be pretending that I am Dostoyevsky in the year 2000, and that I must fufill that mental anguish to justify my instinct.
Fine. You don't understand my elementary words; my sorry attempt at explanation? Listen to the Russian himself, for he speaks my heart better than I do:
"His mind was also as if fragmented and disconnected, while at the same time he felt afraid to connect the fragments together and draw the general conclusion from all the tormenting opposites he had experienced...It was almost something bordering on despair, an emotion previously foreign to Alyosha's heart."
You may have guessed that I'm on the verge of something magnificent: you may be right.
sorrowful
Posted by jeremy stock at November 20, 2000 10:14 AM