"The world does not reward honesty and independence, it rewards obedience and service. It’s a world of concentrated power, and those who have power are not going to reward people who question that power."-Chomsky

"The trouble with self-delusion, either in a person or a society, is that reality doesn't care what anybody believes, or what story they put out. Reality doesn't "spin." Reality does not have a self-image problem. Reality does not yield its workings to self-esteem management." -J.H. Kunstler

"You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."-Dylan

Sunday, August 29, 2004

8/29/04: Meet Chris

This is the brief entry from the day that I first became aware of the enigma, Friar Chris.I found his website in a quest for information after coming up with the idea to climb into a backpack and take off. Only 4-short years later at Jackson Lake State Park, it happened! Chris dropped me off that day.
-X 1/20/10

This one will have to be quick. Have baseball at three, but half-assed is better than nothing. Protests in New York City today; Republican convention this week. Good for them. Put some teeth in the opposition to this fascist. Stayed up till seven this morning reading the web journal of this guy who walked from Savanna to Seattle. There's part of me, that would love that. He did it, but stopped three or four times; plus took the winter off--in Denver. Yeah, I'd like that. Backpack, tent, radio and a few books here and there. That would help clear the head. Need something; that may be a bit drastic. Not 100% stable the past few days. Not handling adversity that well. Insecurity I believe. Boy--part of me is a mess. I'm confronting and paying attention to stuff, but it's stirring up other things. Finish later; rushed to get ready.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

8/18/04: Finding the Frequency

This entry is from Wednesday, August 18, 2004. Considering it's only the second attempt at stream-of-consciousness, it's pretty remarkable how quickly I seemed to have been drawn to my focus. There are the seeds to many major themes even here, although I had no way of knowing it at the time. It's clear, in retrospect, how close to the surface many of these ideas were (underlined), but for whatever reason, were inaccessible before the pen. Though radio was still front and center in my mind, it didn't take long, as you'll see, to get an inkling of where I was going...eventually.
-x 1/20/10

The song of the day is Plowed by Sponge. I wake up every day with a song in my head, usually from a dream I've had. Does that mean anything? Who knows. My arm hurts from pitching, hope the $190 radar gun wasn't stupid (it was!). I'll enjoy it. Blank--waiting for caffeine to kick in. I love Cherry Coke. "I Miss Mayberry, sitting on the porch sipping ice cold Cherry Coke!" Ha! My sense of humor is cheesy. Oh well, entertains me. We have some pretty good cats. Glad we got both of them. Wouldn't trade them. Wonder if that means I want a kid. I know I do, but part of me knows better. Blank again. I feel strangely undisturbed today. Wonder if that has anything to do with this? I need to stick with this stuff. Self-improvement is a wonderful thing. Wish I could connect with people a little better. Used to do that, but hardly ever sense radio. Why? Is it because Todd Thompson is one-dimensional? With no depth? Todd v. has several levels, but sometimes I wonder if Thompson has him in a cage. He gets out and roars when I drink. He can be dangerous! And I am a maniac?!? That's probably a case study in some sort of illness. But, it's good to think about stuff like that. Radio people usually hold nothing for me, and vice versa. This is hard to do with Laina at home. Feels like I need to hide all of this, she may think it's stupid. Avoid showing a sensitive side. Fear of ridicule. I know that's the root of many things. I had made friends with that once upon a time. Todd v. had anyhow. Thompson is a little oversensitive to it. Todd v. drugged it. TT hides from it. Do I really have an alter ego? Of course I do! I used to love that idea. A new person who can be whoever I want him to be! What a crock. Pretending to be someone else when I can't even be myself. One aspect of myself is the core who is suppressed still. Maybe he is the one that likes to be alone, and feels safe isolated from the world, where he can just "be." Or, maybe that's the sensor, who keeps LT quiet by saying no one can attack you here. You are safe with me, no one here but "us chickens!" Less stress, less fear and anxiety. No need to put up the fronts when I'm alone. Just me and LT. But LT needs approval too. Validation. He can't get it alone. He gets restless. Bored. Looks for diversions. Games, books, learning. He likes to learn. He always has. History. Biographies. Motivational stories. He seeks answers. Answers to what? How to live his life. Its direction. He's always been lost. He knows he's supposed to do something; but what? Something positive, and something important. He had a high value of self-worth, but feels he needs to hide it from people. It's a secret. He may be a narcissist. He likely is. Why? Mom did a wonderful job with him early on. XX tried to sabotage it, but she was too late. Her abortion attempt was "past the first trimester." So, he hid. Waiting for enlightenment that someone is destined to provide. But who? When? Ever? They say it comes from within? Politics? Social issues? Radio? He is trying to speak through TT? He can't. He's muzzled. Job dissatisfaction. Anger. Frustration. Recklessness. "Look at me, you idiot!" Social stuff. Helping people. Leading the sheep home. Providing direction to the lost. Doing for others, what wasn't done for me. Charity. Grace towards others. Why? Because they need it. I feel compelled to provide. Obligated. LT. He's always been there. Screaming at me, "Dammit, I know the way! Follow me! Believe in me, the way deep down I believe in me! Validate me. Let me lead you home. Jump on my back, the weight will only strengthen me. Learn. Know. Lead." [but, where?] Radio is my medium. But what is the promised land? Where do I take people? Do I even know? These pages are good! Politics? Not Republican or Democrat. Social direction? Liberal talk? Independent talk? Agnostic talk? Art Bell? A combination. I like: history, theory, dissecting spin and propaganda, critical thought; connecting today with yesterday, music. Radio show? Free-form? Talk? I have the tools in this room. What to do? Am I close to something? Feels like it... for now. Where do I take this? Downside after the crescendo. Talk or music. I think both! There are no rules! Make your own. Be bold, be brave. Lead! You know, you're right. Engage!! Unblock and create!

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

8/17/04: A Birth

This entry is from Tuesday, August 17, 2004. This is the very first entry, and what I consider the very beginning of...whatever this is. It is a stream-of-consciousness exercise taken literally, so therefore it is self-serving, egocentric, rambling, makes very little sense...and is priceless to me! Be gentle in your judgment!
-x 1/20/10

Stream of consciousness, eh? Three pages of pure thought? Frightening. I'm tired, waiting for caffeine to kick in. I wish I could function without it. Got Patsy Cline song in my head -- Back in Baby's Arms. What a cheesy song. Love how Tarantino made it work in Natural Born Killers. Why didn't I abbreviate that? Am I going to be able to do this every day? Three pages seems like a lot, and my hand hurts already! Get to work for KM again Thursday. My handwriting sucks! It used to be a lot better. Is that a skill that you can lose if you don't use it? Pages -- Got Me Thinking about The Celestine Prophecy book. Maybe I should reread that. Sitting on the couch in Des Moines, another time I had "found enlightenment." Damn song keeps popping in and out . Should I start WinAmp? Feeling clear. This isn't so bad. Need discipline, and a new hand! God, ain't I funny? Always trying to amuse myself. How long until AR makes the page? Stomach hurts now! Coincidence? There's this song again. Can't stay focused -- curse of my life! Ow! Quit hurting, so I can wait for the Inspiration According to Todd to show up. BLANK! Here's the song again. No TV, easier than I thought, should I try again? Maybe read? Quiet in here. Peaceful, tranquil. Like a haven. Will anyone ever read this? Will they think I'm nuts? Full of myself? Read the chicken scratch?!? HA! Reminds me of mom. More and more. Two gray hairs. Not too concerned. Aging okay, better than I thought. 30 was funny. 9/11, RKR, JD, MM, going to work every day. Did 9/11 change me? Worth looking into. On the surface it may appear that way. 9/11 tribute. What was that? Why did I do it? Therapeutic? A way to express something? God's creative "Flow?" What was it? Is that the epitome of my career? Will I ever be a good person to work with/be around? So much uncertainty! Why? Why am I always analyzing? Is that bad? Self-destructive. XX seems to be able to handle people. I admire and and jealous of him. Will I ever emotionally connect with anyone? Wonder if I ever have. There is AR! I did with her. We wouldn't have worked together. Remember the balloon festival? Back and forth. Got along with her mom. Our fathers: that was the heart of it. Getting somewhere with that. Almost glad I never called her. Maybe she's realized all this too? I wonder if she's happy. I hope so. "I miss my friend!" I miss friends.; but only for selfish reasons. What they did for me emotionally. I like solitude. That book makes me think I'm not all that odd. Not supposed to reread this. Will, I anyhow? I hope not. Need to work on self-discipline. I like reading. New ideas are fun to chew on. Brain is thirsty. Block? Do I need to continue to stimulate the brain? Thinking about whether that's why I drink. Same feelings? Expression! Easier to express thought. That seems stupid! The brain is the same sober. Self-doubt, esteem. Need an outlet. Writing. This? Mom. Needs an outlet; or just an out. Twinge of guilt. Do I owe her? Who am I responsible for first? Always me first. No one else puts me first. That feels selfish. It is. Self-involvement. Artist child crying. "LT" crying. Self-pity. Deserved to degree. Anger. Lash out at something I can't get to. Frustration, anger. Vicious circle. Stop? How? Habit. Self-serving, yet self-destructive. Ironic. Breakthrough? Maybe, but not something new. Always fighting this battle. Push people away. Walls. Like South Park. Ha! "Tear down my shitty walls!" This is easy... kind of fun, therapeutic. Dreams have been strange, LT wants attention. He's getting it. Don -- thanks mom! What a dick. Damage. He's my male influence? Yikes. Good or bad? Both. That period shaped me. Do I like me? Some parts. A lot of parts. Why don't others? Or do they? They don't know "me." Won't let them. Who cares now. Almost done. Let's see how this works today. Good start to a day.

Think I'll be back tomorrow...