So there you sit.
You've got nothing to do.
The lawn has been mowed.
The bills have been paid.
You've walked the dog.
You finally closed the "Big Deal" with "That Company" at work.
You got the 3% raise that keeps you nipping at inflation's heels.
You now get to walk around with the shiny collection plate at church.
You finally figured out 23 across in last week's TV Guide's crossword. (turned out to be sire)
But...
Something is missing.
There seems to be an emptiness...
A nagging absence of something you need to fill...
And so...
You once again turn to Dr. Phil and Emeril Lagasse and Oprah Winfrey and Joe Scarborough and Nancy Grace and Simon Cowell and Glen Beck and Don Imus and Felicity Huffman and Peter Griffin and Stan Marsh and Dave Chappelle and Jorja Fox and Hermen Munster and Donald Trump and ...
...it's still getting darker...
Anything to avoid thinking about the stuff we have been taught to be afraid of (for no apparent reason) and avoid coming to terms with.
Quote from: The HagakureTo say that dying without reaching one's aim is to die a dog's death is the frivolous way of sophisticates. When pressed with the choice of life or death, it is not necessary to gain one's aim.
We all want to live. And in large part we make our logic according to what we like. But not having attained our aim and continuing to live is cowardice. This is a thin dangerous line. To die without gaming one's aim is a dog's death and fanaticism. But there is no shame in this. This is the substance of the Way of the Samurai. If by setting one's heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he pains freedom in the Way. His whole life will be without blame, and he will succeed in his calling.
Your parents probably didn't want you to end up here.
The Hagakure is a brilliant, if disturbing text. Musashi's Book of Five Rings is not so alien to the average mind, but reading that book is being like inside the head of a fanatic.
Quote from: Rev. What's-His-Name?So there you sit.
You've got nothing to do.
The lawn has been mowed.
The bills have been paid.
You've walked the dog.
You finally closed the "Big Deal" with "That Company" at work.
You got the 3% raise that keeps you nipping at inflation's heels.
You now get to walk around with the shiny collection plate at church.
You finally figured out 23 across in last week's TV Guide's crossword. (turned out to be sire)
But...
Something is missing.
There seems to be an emptiness...
A nagging absence of something you need to fill...
And so...
You once again turn to Dr. Phil and Emeril Lagasse and Oprah Winfrey and Joe Scarborough and Nancy Grace and Simon Cowell and Glen Beck and Don Imus and Felicity Huffman and Peter Griffin and Stan Marsh and Dave Chappelle and Jorja Fox and Hermen Munster and Donald Trump and ...
...it's still getting darker...
Fucking RAH!
Keep going, dude, you're on a roll.
aww shucks thanks.
It seems to be easier to channel this stuff when I'm at work than when I'm at home.
Yeah, it seems to work that way for me, as well.
Luckily, no one at work has caught on to the fact that I'm pretty much working a 5-6 hour day, and the rest of the time, I'm writing, or here.
I kind of work on themes in my head while I'm out on the sales floor or doing my management tasks. Then when I'm on lunch break I go to the break table, put on some tunes, and enjoy a nice mind dump.