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Mar. 30th, 2010 10:51 pmIt's hard for me to write where I'm living at the moment.
Here, in my mom's rocking chair, in her nice cabin, with a sleeping puppy almost an arm and a half's length away from me, it feels more like a place that one could actually get some work done. At my current residence, I have a small cubbyhole for a desk and an irritable parrot dominating the only other living space. I'm rather trapped - perhaps the only other option is the library (or libraries), but those aren't quite integrated into my day-to-day schedule just yet.
The exercise thing is going well - okay, well, that's the wrong word. No, what I mean is that the exercise thing is currently kicking the ever-loving crap out of me every time I go off to it. After a 'good' session I come off only slightly weathered, still able to run to the bus at the last minute and feel vaguely all right about the whole situation. After a hard one I am a craven, wounded animal, dragging my way back with my tail between my legs, text-messaging my mother cryptic one-word sentences, usually accentuated with multiple letters, expressing hyperbolic agony and suffering.
I went to my best friends's friend's party, with his and her friends in tow. Unfortunately, they are not my friends, and I do not desire their company - I doubt I'll remember their faces or names in many weeks after the event. I was happy to finally leave at one in the morning, feeling rather buzzed from too much alcohol, the contents of multiple packets of chips floating in my gut, and though the event was exotic in my day-to-day routine I am unsure of its long-term benefit.
The question has come up often about the company I keep - that is to say, less so in local terms and more in a social web kept alive by telephone poles and undersea cables; on the internet, if I may so plainly speak. Do I feel socially deprived, desolate and lonely, adrift in the world? Do I feel as if there's no one to talk to?
In truth, not really. I have my best friend, and I have my mother, and I have my dog. I have a counselor that my parents pay money for me to talk to. I have my landlady, and I have roommates who I share dinner with, exchange jokes with, sometimes play board games with. I also have the opportunity to be social - an old friend's number, who I really should hang out with sometime. And then I have the internet, where I have a long list of contacts - where I belong to communities, people that I talk to and occasionally speak to with the lovely IM client known as Skype. There are people here I can play games with and exchange topics of mutual interest, and it suits me for now. I'm not lonely, I'm not socially deprived, and my other set of parents are a mere phone call away. The wonders of advanced technological communication are all around me.
But the impermanence of aforementioned technology has rankled with me for a while; the impermanence of our times are even more so. This article, crude in its written format as it were, may be an indication of that, and it reminds me how hard I depend on technology, how easy it would be for my life to completely go to splinters if something were to happen to change the way technology works - or even communication itself. It worries me, and having that forethought just might save me from whatever is to come.
I don't believe in a 'doomsday'. Change is bad enough, honestly - it throws the human psyche into turmoil if it's not prepared to weather the storm. Life is not peaceful - it is not static. I'll have to remember that as I get older - one tends to establish roots as one ages, after all.
Anyway, I'm done with the bombastic entry for the day. I have to practice getting into an actual sleep pattern for once - and so to bed I go.
...Maybe after I play an online game or two...
...Just for half an hour. Right? Right.
Signing off.
Here, in my mom's rocking chair, in her nice cabin, with a sleeping puppy almost an arm and a half's length away from me, it feels more like a place that one could actually get some work done. At my current residence, I have a small cubbyhole for a desk and an irritable parrot dominating the only other living space. I'm rather trapped - perhaps the only other option is the library (or libraries), but those aren't quite integrated into my day-to-day schedule just yet.
The exercise thing is going well - okay, well, that's the wrong word. No, what I mean is that the exercise thing is currently kicking the ever-loving crap out of me every time I go off to it. After a 'good' session I come off only slightly weathered, still able to run to the bus at the last minute and feel vaguely all right about the whole situation. After a hard one I am a craven, wounded animal, dragging my way back with my tail between my legs, text-messaging my mother cryptic one-word sentences, usually accentuated with multiple letters, expressing hyperbolic agony and suffering.
I went to my best friends's friend's party, with his and her friends in tow. Unfortunately, they are not my friends, and I do not desire their company - I doubt I'll remember their faces or names in many weeks after the event. I was happy to finally leave at one in the morning, feeling rather buzzed from too much alcohol, the contents of multiple packets of chips floating in my gut, and though the event was exotic in my day-to-day routine I am unsure of its long-term benefit.
The question has come up often about the company I keep - that is to say, less so in local terms and more in a social web kept alive by telephone poles and undersea cables; on the internet, if I may so plainly speak. Do I feel socially deprived, desolate and lonely, adrift in the world? Do I feel as if there's no one to talk to?
In truth, not really. I have my best friend, and I have my mother, and I have my dog. I have a counselor that my parents pay money for me to talk to. I have my landlady, and I have roommates who I share dinner with, exchange jokes with, sometimes play board games with. I also have the opportunity to be social - an old friend's number, who I really should hang out with sometime. And then I have the internet, where I have a long list of contacts - where I belong to communities, people that I talk to and occasionally speak to with the lovely IM client known as Skype. There are people here I can play games with and exchange topics of mutual interest, and it suits me for now. I'm not lonely, I'm not socially deprived, and my other set of parents are a mere phone call away. The wonders of advanced technological communication are all around me.
But the impermanence of aforementioned technology has rankled with me for a while; the impermanence of our times are even more so. This article, crude in its written format as it were, may be an indication of that, and it reminds me how hard I depend on technology, how easy it would be for my life to completely go to splinters if something were to happen to change the way technology works - or even communication itself. It worries me, and having that forethought just might save me from whatever is to come.
I don't believe in a 'doomsday'. Change is bad enough, honestly - it throws the human psyche into turmoil if it's not prepared to weather the storm. Life is not peaceful - it is not static. I'll have to remember that as I get older - one tends to establish roots as one ages, after all.
Anyway, I'm done with the bombastic entry for the day. I have to practice getting into an actual sleep pattern for once - and so to bed I go.
...Maybe after I play an online game or two...
...Just for half an hour. Right? Right.
Signing off.