Take a Proustian journey through my life vis-à-vis the words I have published to the Internet over the last four decades.
Summertime rolls…
Well, July has come and gone with very little activity on Gekko. Frankly, I cannot say that I am surprised. Between Bret’s work schedule and my schedule of inactivity, nothing was bound to get done, which is alright with me. I think if I had to name one thing I enjoy doing most in this world, it would have to be nothing. Although it seems paradoxical to do nothing, it is not as easily done than said.
Dear Francine,
I wish I wasn’t gagged, so I could tell you what’s been on my mind using spoken words–instead of grunts and vowels blocked by a slobbery rubber ball. I wish I wasn’t deaf, so that I could hear your heart breaking when you read this letter. Most of all, I wish I wasn’t blind, so I could see your face when you’ve seen what I had the boy down the street do to your things (serves you right, you fecalphiliac).
In general, I dread going to class. Most of the time, people simply sit there, glancing furtively around the room, waiting for some brave soul to venture a question or an answer to an inquiry the teacher presents to us. This really bothers me. I would start the discussions, but I have a problem where I cannot start an insightful conversation, but I can enter one after it has begun, and commandeer it, directing it toward something about which I want to talk. Today, for the first time since the semester began three weeks ago, the majority of the cats and kittens in my World Religions class started talking. Granted, the whole of their comments were nested in ignorance, but you have got to start somewhere, I say. For the past two weeks, we have been studying “Eastern” religions, and most of my classmates had no idea what atman, dukkha, or wu-wei were. We have been discussing Judaism this week, and finally people can relate the material to something they know.
Anyway, as part of an exercise, my teacher asked us to name the five things we wanted in life. Most people supplied normal answers: financial security, happiness, health, a loving family. To be honest, I really don’t care about any of those things. While the things I want are mainly abstractions, there are a few tactile things and experiences on the list, and so without further ado… the FIVE THINGS I WANT IN LIFE are:
Clarity- I know that I will never discover what the purpose of life is. I can’t be sure, but I do not believe that there is an inherent purpose to life. Religious folks would tell you that the purpose of life is to love and serve the greater being, however you envision it. Problem is, I have come to the decision that there is no greater being. We’re all here for no good reason at all. So far, I have attained clarity; I have my feet firmly planted on terra firma.
To effect someone- Unless I become a powerful leader (see power below) or commit a series of heinous atrocities, it is unlikely that I will be remembered beyond two or three generations. I can deal with this, but at the very least, I want people to really think about the things I say. I want to be taken seriously when I am trying to be serious. With the exception of a few rare occurrences, I have also achieved this goal.
To draw a crowd into a sing-along- à la Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (a favorite movie of mine- Cameron and I are definitely kindred spirits), I want to get a crowd of people to sing along with me a song of my choosing. It’ll have to be something everyone knows, so I am considering “Help!” by the Beatles, “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones, or “Creep” by Radiohead. Maybe “Cry Me a River” – who knows.
Power- When I belted out “power” from my seat in the back row of the classroom, my teacher asked me what I meant by power. I gave her the simplified, non-offensive answer: “Political power.” Actually, by “political power,” I mean total and absolute power of a township, city, or nation. That’s how it will start, at least; the final goal is total world domination, but I have already said too much. How much power, you ask? Think Stalin without all the purges, GULAG, and needless death. With said power, I will be able to coerce people to singing whatever song I want. Maybe we’ll sing two songs- “Fight for your Right” and “Mikey Made this Happen” the latter of which has yet to be written, although one could surmise that it will be an anthem extolling all my regal virtues. I don’t know if I want to be King Mikey or President Mikey or what. I really like the title “His Supreme Pontiffancy, Mikey.” It just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? I have certainly pondered heavily on the things I will have when I am ruling the planet; I could write volumes on the subject.
Tacos!- “Tacos!? You want tacos?!” My teacher was rather incredulous that I felt so strongly about the Mexican sandwich. After a few chortles from the class, I ventured a reply: “Well, tacos give me nearly everything else written on the board. Because of tacos, I am happy. Because of tacos, I am healthy. Because of tacos, I am financially secure. Well, maybe not the last one, but damn- tacos are good!” Seriously- if you have never had a taco, stop reading this, go to your nearest Mexican restaurant* and order one now.
So those are things I want in life. Just a little peace of mind, a legacy (however minute it may be), some tacos, and total world domination. I don’t think it’s too much to ask. If you think it is, please email me, so I can write your name down on my list of nemeses.
TOTALLY UNRELATED: Today, I saw the biggest bug ever. Sadly, it was dead and had moved onto the next life. Maybe it was reincarnated as a sparrow or something. Digressing (or is it progressing?), this bug was so big that there were other bugs on it. A fly was crawling on one part of the thorax; on the other end next to the head, ants had set up little vacation homes. I am guessing it was a roach injected with Hulk formula (don’t, DON’T, DON’T see that movie, by Allah) or maybe it was a beetle who had been juicing for a few months. He didn’t want to get into ‘roids, but all the other beetles on the team were doing it, and if he wanted to keep up in quanga (the beetle form of soccer), he had to start doing something in addition to the RIPPED FUEL. Who knows.
*Please note: TACO BELL is not a Mexican restaurant. It’s Mexican fast food, Pepsi style. While scrumptrelescent in its own right, a virgin taco-eater is best served by going to a real Mexican restaurant.
gone and gone again, lies writhing on the ground
cracked little skull, smashed brains and bones
yearned to be back home
wanted to be free
day in and day out
eyes would be searching, mind would be wand’ring
looked to the stars, looked at the sky
wanted to be high
wanted to be free
sunrise and sunshine
the light on the window pane
burning the shadows, obscuring the light
adored the stark night
wanted to be free
men and children,
their faces cracked, shalacked and shattered
with their broken eyes and swollen hearts
playing in the dark arts
wanted to be free
flying and falling through space
Daedalus has gone to the sun
his wings have melted, burned away
he wanted to be free, just for a day
he’s free now, free from his body
he’s free now, free as the air
he’s free now, free from his cares
he’s free now, free from everything
It’s been a pretty slow six days since I last wrote. I worked this weekend- nothing too exciting happening there. Aside from that, my weekend included my usual activities: hanging around, sleeping, eating, drinking, and thinking. Of the five activities, only sleeping and thinking are necessarily appealing to me. The rest are both necessary parts of my life, but I only derive pleasure from nighttime dreaming and its sunlit counterpart, day-dreaming.
My sleeping patterns have gotten rather unstable; I am going to bed later and getting up at approximately the same time. As a result, my dreams have started getting macabre and surreal. My childhood was earmarked with mundanity in both my hours awake and my hours asleep. My dreams were very literal; while I slept, I phantasied about school, people in my life, and my pets. Never once in grade school or high school did I have a dream where my house is being overrun with zombies. But now, it’s normal. I really don’t get it.
My life is pretty uneventful on the whole. It’s like clockwork. I wake up. I use the bathroom. I shower. I play on the computer. I play video games. I eat. I read. I write. I work on the computer. I sleep…I sleep…I sleep. I wake up. I shower. I sleep (gotta have nearly equal time of day-dreaming and night-fancying, you know). Because of this, I have become prone to spending hours on end merely pondering my existence. I wonder… So far, all my hours of rumination and puzzlement have been futile. I am as perplexed as I was when I started, if not more. People create bustling lives for themselves so that they won’t have to stop to examine them. I suppose I can see their logic: “Why bother, there’s no time to stop and smell the roses. There’s too much to do. I have curtains to clean, children to feed, and spouses/significant others/French whores/Trishelles to copulate with.” They are right in some ways. But I really wonder.
Right now, it’s three in the morning, and I am reading and ruminating upon rules of usage in the English language. I have come to learn that I tend to spell more words in the correct form in British English, rather than in the American. I guess that is because I have this knack for doing things slightly differently but correct all the same. Besides, Brits were speaking English long before Americans were. Furthermore, what exactly is an American?
On another front, I am having troubles deciding what screen name to use (I know what you’re thinking– but Mikey, we don’t CARE!). Bret and I went through a phase where we registered new AOL instant messenger handles on a daily basis. Bret grew out of this; I, however, did not. I continue to think of great new names and register them as soon as possible. The names I have registered, in no particular order:
tevasandal
googly scimitar
macabre mikey
eat a pencil
get ta steppin y
great gondala
camel jimmy j
drinkyourwords
fracca at 1134
gekkokid19
i love millia
mollingerm
wherermypants
yekim91o
eLbow Parker
elBud potter
lumpylizardman
smooth mikey o
mikey ollinger
mordacious mikey
As you can see, I have entirely too many. I really need to hew it down to about three to five. Those that I am particularly fond of are emboldened. I believe I register so many screen names because I love coming up with titles and names for things. I have been naming cats, dogs, fish, cars, chairs, rooms, body parts, the list goes on and on. In thinking about it even further (another sign I really need to find a life), I have decided upon the ultimate screen name for myself. The rest are good, but this one is the best…
From henceforth, my screen name shall be THE NOMENCLATOR (cue echo, clap of thunder, and scary-sounding music). I will name things as they come to me. I will invent monikers where needed. Why? Because I am the NOMENCLATOR!!!