It is 2am. One could say that I was a 'bad boy' this weekend. My psychiatrist has been suggesting that I spend less time in front of the computer. Less time indulging my seeming addiction to 'the net.' The week was going well. It was suggested that I take a real hour for lunch each day and not spend it in my office. I got a good amount done last week. Unfortunately, a bit of it was on an external project. But the current work project came along well.
I'd been gearing up for the weekend. I seem to have submerged myself into the order. I've received some hard news about my other major external activity and need to deal with that on Monday. (Yes, I'm being vague on purpose) The topic of which was brought up in a private post to a select group of people. Yes, I'm being convert and closed off. But I'm doing it for the best interest of those involved. At least that's how my mind tends to work... or not work...depending on your point of view.
Friday and Saturday were the Rite of Venus. This is basically a 'play' based on .... well, to tell you the truth, I've seen the rite twice (once in the audience, and once from within a performance...) I still don't entirely get what the hell happened. Oh, I've got the basics. There was Venus style love and then that is betrayed to make way for Tauran love. Um.. I think. It was very well received. So, I guess I did a good job as Torch Bearer #3 ;)
This left Sunday. Today. I knew I was going to sleep in late. I did. Well, until about 10am. And then it hit again. The melancholies. It wasn't as bad as it's been in the past. But, i recognized it. My goal was to do some real damage that is the condemned zone that is my bedroom. It is still a nightmare of laundry and boxes, and books, and furniture. I walk in and am totally overwhelmed by it. I kept walking in only to walk out again within a minute or two. It reminded me of my parent's bedroom. A bizarre irony. It sickens me now and in retrospect as a child it fascinated me. It was like a giant obstacle course with little surprises to be found in every disorganized drawer and box.
Sadly, most of the boxes and clutter in my room aren't even mine. They are goods that I've promised repeatedly to send off and have been unable to do anything about it. Unending excuses in my funny, little head that prevent me from sending off even one box. It makes me feel very broken. I've brought it up with my psychiatrist and my hypno-therapist. Maybe one day if the three of us can get it straightened out, I'll give them a cut of the book publishing profits.
So, I accomplished nothing at all today. Perhaps this aided in my mood. Maybe, my mood is a result of knowing that I've finished filling my time with things that prevent me from dealing with these issues that I don't complete. How hard is it to take one box and ship it away? Ship one...then more, then done... Why do I look at a box and think, "It's not sealed right. It's too heavy to send. Things'll break. I don't have time. Every one is bulls**t. But the ideas dance in my mind like some clever little Christmas Ballet at Heinz Hall.
Ah, yes, poetry of self imposed madness. The last dumb thing of the day that I did. I love the movies. I fought to stay off the computer with such fine endeavors as Television. I was caught this morning watching Debbie Reynolds as "The Singing Nun" (A very good film.) I love the movies. I like to think that I have a director's eye. Watching for nuances. Wondering how I'd direct it. *hangs head* knowing that I've never directed one inch of film in my life. (Soft chuckle to self) To burn with a desire to do something that you've never done at all. Well, okay, I shot some really awkward video...but again.. no.. I'm not here to feel sorry for myself... This is not relevant to the rambling at hand...
The last thing I did tonight (This was after the discovery that Pgh mainstay USAir had declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy) was to PPV "A Beautiful Mind." This is the film that won Ron Howard the Best Director Oscar about Mathematician John Nash who's brilliance may have been tied into his schizophrenia. This may not have been the best idea for me because I like to idolize movies for a short while after seeing them and try to identify with the characters I see. It takes a few hours for that to wear off. I mean I can rationally stand up and say, "No, it's just a movie." However, movies still have a strangely lasting effect on me. (Note the earlier post about "Escape from Witch Mountain")
Sadly, I went to a web page and looked at a Mensan test. 15 minutes to answer 20 questions. It said you were mensan material if you could get 12 or more right in the 15 minutes. *sigh* It took me under 5 minutes to get all 20. This movie was hard for me.
This wasn't some computer hacker in a world that is only the virtual construct of machines gone mad. This was a man. A real man. (With fictionalized events) Someone who put the pieces of the universe together in ways that no one else could see it. And was for all intents and purposes ... insane.
At Venus, one of my 'co...um...magickians' had discovered that the caduceus he'd made was falling apart. It was a stick, with a ball and two rubber snakes bound to it with thread. The snakes were slipping. I (to pass the time) had an embroidery kit we me. (I've gone back to working on the cross stitch that I put down 3 years ago as my non-computer, filler activity). I offered some floss to him. I looked into my box and said, (No really, this came out of my mouth) "Here. here's some orange. Which of course is representative of Hod, Splendor. Also Mercurial or Communicative energy which should tie into the Hermes..... " I stooped abruptly there and put my hands over my face and let an exasperated yowl out. This had all been stuff I took with a Pillar of salt. And here I was rambling it off like I was some learned Kaballistic Rabbi wondering if the next serving of Egg Foo Young would be without Pork.
*Head droops and slow stare at keyboard* I have lived my life being told how much great potential I have. This has come from relatives, teachers, friends, lovers... So much potential... and yet, I am immobilized in the things I think I need to do, should have started a while ago, and just plain at times, am supposed to be doing. But... despite all that; I sit here at the keyboard again.. (The movie now over) and type a journal entry to myself about my lack of accomplishment. *half crooked smile breaks at the listing of the irony*
Well, at least I know what to talk about with Dr. S. Tomorrow morning. The bell is about to ring again, I have to spit, put in my teeth guard and fight another round until I get a knock out. It's a hard, slow, long fight. BUt it's one I have to win. *chuckles to self* Unless I buy into reincarnation hard and fast...it's not the kind of fight I'll get a rematch in in the event that I go down without a fight.
Such is my colourful little world.