A not-so-special Holiday Special.

Hard to believe it’s already the 21st of December. I could make a cliche reference to how time was so slow as a kid and so fast now that I’m an adult, but everybody knows that and phrasing it cleverly won’t make it any more awe-striking.

Still, the holidays are an interesting time. And by interesting, I mean they’re hell frozen over for anybody with a drivers license. SUV’s merging without looking, little grandmas running their carts into your new Corvette without so much as an “I’m sorry sonny.” Ironically, the season that’s supposed to be a celebration to the man who died for the sins of humanity is one of the most sinful times of the year. Gluttony from all the holiday food (sloth also comes into the picture here, considering how you don’t want to move after all that turkey), lust for that one special super expensive item you probably won’t get unless you throw a temper tantrum, wrath to the piece of shit who took that last thingamajigger that your child wanted, greed because you’d rather buy for yourself while the holiday deals are going strong (guilty of this myself), envy to your cousin who actually got what you wanted while you got socks, and vanity because, gee, don’t you look great in that holiday snuggy and Rudolph pajamas.

The irony is rather delicious, actually. The greatest part is, most people don’t know where the traditions come from. They chop it all up to the christian belief. In reality, the Christmas tree and yule log are from pagan tradition. So to all those Jews who throw a fuss over the lack of a menorah in a public place, suck on that.  This is why we can’t have nice things (no, I’m not implying that all Jews are like that. Don’t put words in my mouth).

So how have my holidays gone so far? Amusing, to say the least. I stood in the Wal-Mart return line for about 20 minutes because my dear sweet grandmother wanted to return a small carton of butter worth less than two whole US dollars. There’s a story for the kids. “Lil’ Jim, did I ever tell you about the time I stood in a line longer than your father’s ass crack because my grandma was a penny pincher who thought returning bad butter would stick it to a nation-wide company? No? Well you pretty much just got the whole thing.”

After we spent an hour trying to swerve past crotchety geezers who scoffed when I said ‘excuse me’ to get around them (also called ‘grocery shopping’), I told grandma to get in the car so I could pack everything up in the trunk. As I’m about done, a fat guy in a little van pulls up and come s____ this close to pushing me and the cart into the car. I hold up my hands in fear, a clearly expressive ‘oh shit’ look on my face, and he appears shocked. His wife is smiling, of course. I guess they were trying to back up into a parking space so their fat little necks wouldn’t have to try and turn to see the mirrors for backing out.

Great fun. There were a couple more things, but I honestly can’t think of them at the moment.

Merry Christmas (yeah, I said it) and happy holidays, guys.

 

Insincere Sanity – Chapter 1

From my earliest memory, I saw a man in a suit standing boldly in the winter snow, staring directly into my eyes just a few feet away. I couldn’t have been more  than three years young.

Never been able to figure out whether he was a figment of my imagination or not.

Of course, most things in my world are. From day one I’m sure that figures and figments have polluted my field of vision. Twisters with glasses, pink hairy creatures, and… Unsavory things I’d rather not mention.

We grew up in a cold place, in more ways than one. When it wasn’t snow that made you numb, it was the man-made atmosphere. You could feel it no matter how young or old you were. My father was a business man. My mother was an alcoholic. They weren’t bad parents. No. In truth they weren’t parents at all. Mother would stop drinking long enough to feed me. Father got home in time for dinner and locked himself away in his office of skyscraper paper stacks. Perhaps it was comforting to him, to always be surrounded by the four walls of a cubicle-like room with no human interfacing. I’d asked him why he came home if he was just going to work once. He responded “they won’t let me sleep at work.”

But those memories are few and far between. They’re like bad sitcom episodes you only remember because they were attached to a scent or flavor. Waffles smothered in syrup. The scent of dead skunk wafting through the car as you’re driving down a country road, and lingering for almost half an hour. When something happens during these memorable hit to the senses, the memory comes to me clearly… As much as it may ruin the scent or taste for me.

Most of my free time was spent on my bright red colored stool in a corner. Mother had put it there so I could have my own chair to watch the television, but I generally sat towards the wall. My corner had exactly 42 floral orchid designs, though they didn’t always appear to me as orchids. I could see all kinds of different things, as if a whole universe resided in the wallpaper.

Seeing the deeper meaning of the things that resided on the surface was always something I specialized in. Luckily nobody who held the same interests tried to look inside me.

I’m not quite sure they’d comprehend what they saw.

Hard-pressed.

As the semester comes to a long-awaited close, and I’m anxious to start doing the things I didn’t have time for previously, I realize that I have to force myself to do the things I want to do.

This sounds stupid in retrospect, but with this free time I’m so graciously given, there are so many things I could do with it. So many ways to divide it.

But instead of doing just that, I sit there and admire it as if it’ll last forever.

A strange thing has occurred as of late. I’ve been leaving the water running after I turn it on. It’s happened at least three times over the period of 2 days. I guess my mind is so cluttered I neglect seeing the smaller things. But cluttered with what?

I think I’m growing less patient with certain situations, which means it’s time for me to start asking questions again.

Final Speech in Public Speaking.

I figured my final paper was good enough to post on here. It was an actuation speech, which means we had to inspire the class to do something. It’s not exactly grammatically correct since I didn’t have to turn in the speech proper, just the outline.

Here it is:

Wake up, shower, get dressed, go to work or school, eat lunch, go home, eat dinner, exchange in an activity, go to bed. This is a rough sketch of what a normal human day looks like without adding the details of what you’re doing and how much time you put into it…

But how often do we actually think about what we do or how we do it? At what time do we stop our constant motion through this life to take a good hard look at our surroundings… And perhaps think about them? As human beings, we are gifted with sentience, though from what I’ve seen in this world, many people neglect this factor, content to live their lives on a seasonal schedule much like mindless animals… Are we so worried that life will end when we stop to smell the roses that we spend what little time we have with our eyes closed?

I want to take these precious minutes I have to convince all of you how important it is to stop turning a blind eye to your reality. No, I’m not telling you to help the world or your fellow man. I want you to help yourself. Each and every one of us is going to die someday. Me, you, your mothers, sisters, brothers, children. All of us will stop moving eventually. The sooner you realize and cope with this, the sooner you can truly enjoy what an amazing thing each of us is given, yet none of us can replace.

There is no defined answer for how to go about experiencing your days… Each of us has different callings in life, different things that speak to our souls. But I can give you a few tips. Ask questions. Ask any of them you can think of. What is your religion? Why do you choose to follow that path? Is it because these ideals are what you believe or because your parents said so? Why are you going to school? Because you seek a higher education? Or because everybody will look down on you for neglecting to do so? Questions make you dangerous. They make you wiser. And if the answer to those questions is anything other than “I do it for me.” I strongly suggest you reconsider your actions. Your parents may have given you life, but that’s what it is, a gift. You’re not indebted to them. Your significant other may have introduced you to the feeling of being alive, but that doesn’t mean they have any right to control how you do it.

You want to know when I feel alive? When I look out into the beautiful scenery of a landscape or the urban decay of a city, I realize how unique every little thing is. Truly, we are all very similar, but tiny details set us apart from everyone else. Just like trees, rocks, and blades of grass. Some people find their highest peak surfing the great waters in the ocean. Some, in a church becoming closer to their god. I don’t care what way you do it. Either way, every single one of you has the potential to open your eyes and see beyond what the surface holds. Those pillars holding up the school. How many dreams have they seen broken? How many successes have they been able to witness? Perhaps these are trivial questions, but they bring your imagination to life…  And without such a thing, we’d understand how cruel and cold the world was.

The bittersweet thing about living such a life is that… Once you do open your eyes and see for the first time, you can never go back. Besides amnesia, there is no pathway back to ignorance. It’s a one way road, you see. No opportunities for U turns if you end up realizing how much more open you are to every little thing and not liking it. But in comparison to feeling instead of just doing, such concerns are a little pathetic.

If some of you haven’t been listening to me, then at least hear this. Open your eyes. Look around you and see that this is your one chance at life (unless you’re a hindu). All of you need to open your eyes right now and see the beauty and pain of this world. Every emotion, every sight, every experience completes you. To ignore that… Is to simply exist. Find what makes your heart skip a beat, that one experience that takes you and embraces you, and think about that for the rest of your days. If you look around for once, you may see some disturbing things… But if you don’t, you’ll never know what you missed.