Where the Pathetic Hits the Pavement
December 31, 2009 - It's nice to know there's a place you can go when you don't want detrimental mistakes to ruin what you think is a good thing. Of course, it's all in the way you perceive the situation and you could very well be the only one who sees it that particular way. None the less, it is what it is and when you get right down to it... right down to the bare understanding of what it is and who you are in relation to it, the impact it has on the rest of the universe is so negligible it's downright shameful. Ultimately it doesn't matter if you have a place to protect it or not because it only exists in your mind anyway. I'm sorry you had to learn about this now at this point in your life. I know there's the chance that you were feeling at the top of your game before you read this. But now the blinders have been removed from your mind and you are fidgeting in your soul for a twist that might make life somehow closer to the way it used to be... you know, before you read this. Before I exposed the absolute pathetic truth of this alternative universe. This is a reality designed to lull you into inescapable complacency and patiently drain away your desire to leave. This is where the pathetic hits the pavement. Scurry back to your dreams. It's where you are meant to be.
Child of the Sixth Night
January 01, 2010 - Before there was the freakatthewheel (fatw) there was the child of the sixth night (c6ixnight). While the FATW moniker represents the driving persona of this individual, the C6ixNight moniker embodies the musical personalities and has existed more than a decade prior to the birth of FATW. While they both reside simultaneously within the heart, soul, and mind of this person, the older has been rather reclusive in the passed 6 or 7 years while the younger has played a dominating role in everyday life. What needs to be achieved is a healthy balance between these two personas without becoming lost in a destructive environment created by and solely for a battle of dim wits and delusions tumbling in a raucous spiral towards complete mental dilapidation. The journey has already begun.
Sleeping Self Somewhere Else
January 02, 2010 - For a long time the average work day has lasted 8 hours. Granted there are many of us who will scoff at that figure, I being one of them, as I regularly see 10+ hours of work five days a week with very little exception. Now on the flip side of a work day we have our sleep time, which has a general recommendation of 7 to 9 hours. That leaves an average of 5 hours awake time in a 24 hour time frame outside of work and sleep to do whatever else we choose. But the tri-figure hourly breakdown I just presented is not as important to my story as it would be to simply refer to the conscious and the unconscious. People have an unconscious mind while they sleep. That would be to say they become unconscious to their surroundings for periods of time. But there is definitely something going on. And they can be some really outlandish things. When we are awake we refer to them as our dreams. But I'm not all too sure that our common determination of what dreams are in relation to our conscious time is by any measure accurate. In what small amount of dreaming I can recall, they contain horrific actions, with much physical trauma and duress. What kind of brutal world am I in when I am unconscious? And why do I recall so few of them? Sometimes I wonder if the dream world I visit nightly isn't another existence equally real as the one I am in right now while I type these thoughts. And maybe that world is so full of tragedy that in that world I am able to plug my mind into a device that allows me to escape to this world where I perceive myself as awake. Everything I comprehend here is a creation of my "sleeping" self somewhere else. If this is true, I'm not going to sweat the small stuff that I deem painful here. It's nothing compared to the awful world I really do live in.
Imagine If You Will
January 05, 2010 - For some of those that roam the earth it is well enough to only have the options available to them to do whatever it is they might desire. To partake in those desires, however, is a most unlikely event but without discouragement. Satisfaction is derived from acknowledging the possibility of an experience and not the experience in itself. As if to keep a great book only to guard the shelf from dust, with no crease on the bind because never has one page been touched or turned nor curious eye to cast sight on a single word of its story. Never the less the book is there, right in arms reach, should they desire to read it. Like a cherished bottle of wine on the rack waiting for a special occassion that is never quite good enough every time it arrives. A garage full of tools methodically collected for an endless list of projects, each a picture in the mind with good intentions but in truth have already met their fulfillment by existing only as a possibility. For the ones that stay their distance remain behind the experiences for the fear of losing them once they are had. Like an energy that has been burned. Or worse yet, that the experience is not what their imagination led them to expect. And ultimately, that their experience will somehow amount to failure by any measure. With their calendar of options all neatly willed and perceived, they tab through their fancy array of impressions and acts of marvel that no level of conviction could ever convince them to endure. Ideas are driven forward as dreams right to the brink of reality and held there for safekeeping for all the time they might possibly have. And for all the time that they might possibly come to be... they never will.
The Gift of Shivers
January 23, 2010