Wednesday 23rd December 2009

the space between

okay, seriously. a lot of the time i complain that i have no idea what's going on, and most of the time it's hyperbole or for dramatic effect or whatever. usually.

lately though, i feel like there's this whole separate universe being played out around me and i'm utterly not a part of it. as though there's a club with a secret entrance code, a code which everyone knows except me, and i'm standing at the entrance struggling to understand why no one let me in on the secret.

tonight, as chelsey and i were discussing how to divvy up amongst my coworkers the cookies she had made, we discovered that there were not enough gift bags to hold all the groups of cookies we wanted to distribute. no big deal, right? we'll just put some of the cookies in nice simple plastic bags and hand them out that way, because it's christmas, and they're cookies, dig?

no. dear me, no. such a thing is not conscionably done.

you see, it's the small things that matter. the cookies need the gift bags. worthless without them. it's not the making of the cookies that matters, not the time it spent with mixing bowl or oven, it's the wrapping of the cookies that matters. it's not the words that you say, it's the tone of voice in which you say them. it's not the thing itself, it's the framing and the context and the gist of the thing. it's this parallel world of undercurrents and subterfuge and small all-important para-things that completely fails to resonate with me, to which i have absolutely no sensitivity.

this is why i fucking hate christmas. do you hear me? hate it hate it, with swear words for emphasis. it's not enough that i think well of you, or that i want nice things for you. it is expected that i spend time in thinking about something you secretly want, that i go out and get it for you, and that i wrap it up and put a bow on it, and turn what would be (at any other time of the year) a gesture of goodwill and potentially unexpected awesomeness into just another thing that is done for its own sake. we've turned what might have once been called the spirit of christmas into a fat lot of empty, expected gestures.

a bit unexpected, admittedly, coming from a guy who prides himself on being mindful of the little things.


posted by mAtt @ 22.04 (gmt+0000)
to /humans/unhappiness
tagged

Thursday 19th November 2009

these are the things that are broken

ordered list, i choose you:

  1. the car thing that's supposed to save the world. you see, those awesome batteries occasionally die. and apparently they're awesomely expensive. but i have some good news! i just paid a bunch of money to someone to basically let me keep using what i had already paid for.
  2. the iphone. though at&t doesn't know it's an iphone, and that's kind of at the root of the problem. in order to avoid allowing them to ream you on the data plan you have to perform some digital magic, among other steps. but this magic has certain side effects, including people can't call you. ask your doctor if ultrasn0w is right for you—i should have.
  3. the roof. it has holes. in it.
  4. the stereo of my other vehicle. a long time ago i turned the ignition in my truck a certain number of clicks so i could listen to the radio or whatever, but went one click too far, and then back a click, all in rapid succession, and this let the magic smoke out of the shiny lights of the faceplate. and magic smoke, as any scientist will tell you, is hard to put back in a device after it has escaped.
  5. the nail of my left index finger. and now every time i use it it's like the terrorists won their war against the kittens.
  6. the dog. i've made clear my thoughts on the matter of sub-sentient life forms. they exude smelly substances and totally ignorant of this fact. they whine for attention. and not one of them has a job.
  7. the internet. conservapedia.com will eventually become skynet.
  8. my liver. and i have the other items in this list to blame.

posted by mAtt @ 20.15 (gmt+0000)
to /humans/unhappiness
tagged

Friday 10th July 2009

not opposites but rotations, parts of a sum, low gradients, reflections facets of a same and we

are connected. unlearn and let me clarify, there are two directions on our single dimension why can you not see? unlearn, breathe deep and dive deep and see how

we are connected, not opposites just opposite directions, see how connected we are. peel back my shell my layers to find me, keep peeling to find nothing in the center, i am in the barriers not dividing but connecting, between dust and breath, streetlight and dark, body and body and mind and mind we are

connected, we are not distinct and not discrete and you wonder where and what i am even as you hold my layers? there is

nothing in me, nothing but layers in me, in us, we are connected, we are nothing else, we are nothing and we are


posted by mAtt @ 18.25 (gmt+0000)
to /1137/composition
tagged

Sunday 14th June 2009

self-sacrifice

the idea of using an internet-enabled device to list and sell itself on ebay seems really sad to me. do you think your iphone or whatever is aware at some level of the depth of your betrayal? i do, and this is how it makes me feel.


posted by mAtt @ 12.47 (gmt+0000)
to /geek/unhappiness
tagged

Tuesday 20th January 2009

who do you talk to, why do you whisper when i come in? i'm the same as i ever was. here touch my forehead, feel the burning mind, how did i get to the floor it makes no sense no i don't need to lie down. do me a favor turn off the light, set the sun, speak

softly, we're so close only you can hurt me. i touch the floor that touches you, we breathe the same air, we are parallel lines we are full of the same information, it makes perfect sense please try to keep up with me. i can ignore nothing, i can't forget no matter how i try. how did i

get here is this another hallucination? i never know, they're so real, more than real, i view it all through a lens i wish i could share, wish you could understand, i feel so out of place here i feel like i'm on fire, i don't know if we're real. i wish you'd trust me i'm the same as i ever was, i'll wake up

soon. speak softly, i prefer the waking dreams, the mind

is a terrible thing


posted by mAtt @ 22.30 (gmt+0000)
to /1137/composition
tagged

Thursday 8th January 2009

there's more to life than this

i bet even you know the old saying about how when you reach the end of your life, you'll look back on it and not think, 'man, i wish i had spent more time at work.'

in my future i see data mining and analyses and reports, a dancelike feedback loop of things happening, to data, to knowledge, to other things happening. and i'm good at it, dig? so obviously it's what i want to do forever, right?

we come to the point. i tend to do this thing when i encounter something i like: i binge on it, totally saturate myself with it, eventually get turned off, stop liking it. it's an extremely male-brained thing to do. i do it all the time in many and varied parts of my life, but so far, not in any of the really important parts. my fear is that i'll inexorably work my way through all my dream jobs, all those things i'd do for free if i had nothing else to do, in exactly this manner—loved intensely, but shortly, and discarded.

i like my job. i really do. it gives me little fixes of certain things i like (including, not least of which, money). i want to continue liking my job. but the first six weeks of the year are my hell weeks, and i'm definitely smelling the brimstone; i hope this is not the year i discover i forgot to pack my asbestos armor. or my boots of +5 fire resist.

i wonder how long i could string this metaphor along. if i really tried.


posted by mAtt @ 19.59 (gmt+0000)
to /unhappiness
tagged

Thursday 25th September 2008

to ash, to sameness. i turn

and push against, pull you in, i turn the wheel

and am turned in turn, turn, turn, i turn the wheel that turns

and turns, everything in turn, i am the heat engine, i turn the wheel that turns the world


posted by mAtt @ 19.58 (gmt+0000)
to /1137/composition
tagged
older posts. »