We watch the ball drop on another year at the homestead here in the  Bozone MSU campus.  As always, I intend to stay up all night and have an  evening of fighting myself over having another year passed.   Personally, my life seems to pull itself away from those I love and that  causes stress.  I am tired as always.
Tonight I heard something  again, but for the first time, it made sense.  My wife was talking to  her mother on the phone and mentioned something that was so profound  that it was hidden in the monotony of every day speech.  Her words were   "I was going to clean the house...  but I'm just too tired to even  try."  Something I have heard from her many times, but until today, it  seemed to be conjecture about the day.  To see it more clearly was an  excuse to be comfortable.
Well, if anyone has read my blog  before, one can see I am always tired.  Perhaps its the poor diet of  crap and soda that makes me sluggish.  Perhaps it is the extra half of a  full grown person I have in my stomach.  Perhaps it is the lack of exercise that I get in an average day.  Perhaps it is the crash from  sugar and caffeine.  Or perhaps I;m a lazy fat ass fxxx who should've  died 21 years ago from a severe Asthma attack that made my lips turn  blue until some fool gave me a remedy in the emergency room...  I think  that is how it happened, I'll have to ask my mother about the details.   Perhaps I should've died when my friend crashed his fathers Nissan into  two mailboxes.  Maybe I should've died when I made a new driveway with  my Chevy Corsica and a barbwire fence looped around the front of my  bumper.  Maybe I should've bit it when i wrecked into the sod farm sign  next to the driveway that i made for that person on the corner.  They  needed the Jaws O' Life to get me out of that one.  And yet I persist.  A  tired mass of shxx that apparently doesn't pull his weight enough  around the house and deserves to be teased by breaks "where I don't have  to lift a finger."  Like I lift a finger anyway.
If we could  have a dog in our apartment, we would have a dog house.  If we had a dog  house, I would be in it, and if I were in  the dog house, Miss Pearl  would make sure I was stuck in it with all 300 pounds of me and set it  ablaze like the Fourth of July.  So, in short, moving to a place that  allows pets would bring me that much closer to having a patriotic  barbecue of axxHxxx that is so well done the dog gets a new house and a  char broiled table scrap of butt cheek.  I have spoken my opinion and I  forgot that being in a relationship is like being in AA.  "Hi, my name  is Ryan  (Everybody:  Hi, Ryan) and I... gulp... am a husband (low  clapping)  It has been 4 months since my last decision.  I had a moment  how ever, when I had an opinion or two and failed to call a sponsor to  talk myself down until the urge subsided.  The doghouse is very small  and hot, especially when my wife pours a bag of Kingsford over the  kindling and barricades the door shut.  The dog will be fed however.   Thank you."  The free coffee gets distributed, I hug a fat man's  bitchtits and remain the Instamatic husband who seems to do things to  himself without his knowledge.
So,  I've been listening to Linkin Park tonight.  I always can go to a few choice songs on Meteora and they epitomize my feelings about things.  The lyrics are raw, simple, and  colloquial and they match my spirit on this foul night.  I have four  songs looping currently in a particular order that seems to speak to me  more than a million Tolstoy or Dostoevsky novels ever could.
Linkin park - somewhere i belong
Tom | MySpace Video
The first song is an obvious angst song.  It starts with an inverted  acoustic guitar riff, adds a pulsing musical osstinato and bursts with a  harsh forte of sound.  It dies and starts the vocals:
When this  began,
I had nothing to say, and I'd
get lost in the nothingness  inside of me,
I was confused,
then I let it all out to find that  I'm not
the only person with things of mine
Inside of me
But  all that they can see is the words revealed
It's the only real thing  that I've got left to feel
Nothing to lose
Just stop, Hollow and  alone
The fault is my own, the fault is my own
(and then, My  prayer, not to god, but to my heart bearer)
I want to heal, I want to  feel,
what I thought was never real
I want let go of the pain I've felt so long...
...and find somewhere I belong
I think that  this part is played in her head everyday, but she doesn't know the song
've  got nothing to say,
I can't believe I didn't fall
right onto my  face
I was confused
Looking everywhere only to find
That it's  not the way I had imagined it all in my mind
So what am I?
do I  have the negativity
cus I cant justify the way everyone is looking at  me?
Nothing to lose
Nothing to gain, hollow and alone
and the  fault is my own and the fault is my own.
I
will never know
myself  until I do this on my own
and I will never feel
anything else  until my wounds are healed
I will not repay
anything til I break  away from me
(and the part that I wish she would hold)
I WILL  break away, and find myself...
This song, for a long time, explained my faith in God for a while, and  it brings me to a reflective state.
In the beginning of my  anagnorisis to the nature of God that made sense to me, this song crystallized what I was feeling.
the refrain especially
...Everyone  is so far away from me...
trying not to break, but I'm tired of this  deceit, every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet, all I  think about is this, and the tiring time between and how trying to put  my trust in you just takes so much out of me.
I used to yell the  bridge in my car at the top of my lungs just to see if God himself would  be present to catch my plea for his evidence.  It's not only a matter  of getting God to come out, I found, but it was by searching for him  that brought me to where he was...  a lesson about God's nature I never  forgot.
This song brings us to the past three weeks events.  This is my song to  her at this point.  the first verse was parallel to what I told her a  couple of days ago, which has kept me in the burning dog house.
"Tired  of being what you want me to be!
feeling so faithless, lost under  the surface.
don't know what you're expecting of me.
but under the  pressure...  I'm caught in the undertow"
then Mrs. Pearl replied
"every  step that I take is another mistake to you"
then I wanted to say  it.  I really did want to explain the theory I have been making in my  off time from Lilas and Life.  We got the house clean at one point this  break.  It was nice.  However, at that point, the requests and demands  to keep the house in working order, I felt, fell squarely on my  shoulders.  I think that after all this time, she still has no faith in  herself to keep what she has started going.  That a lack of modivation  would keep her in her gloomy disposition.  As a result, she delegates  these tasks to me, because she knows that there is a better chance for  me to finish them than her own lowly ability.  She starts to obsess  about the details, squeezing the last bit of order out of the way things  are, so that she can cling on to the happiness of cleanliness.  There  are also ficticious appearances of people who are spying on us  apperently. I think that if she feels that she can run her own home, she  can finally prove to "everybody" that she is worthwile.  She tries to  validate herself with works and not faith.  When she gets overwhelmed,  she gets pushy with the nitpicky details, risking aggrivation and  hypocracy.  I wish I could explain that she is a beautiful woman who  just needs to see that her clay pearl is the most valuable thing in my  life, and I wouldn't hock it for twice the money to get it back from the  guy I hocked it to.  having those moments without it while I bought it  back would last too long and be torture.  But I can't prove that to her,  that is a path she must take on her own.
"Cant you see that  you are smothering me?
Holding too tightly, afraid you will lose  control,
cus everything that you thought I could be
is falling  apart, right in front of you.
I know that I might end up failing  to,
but I know, that you are just like me with someone
dissapointed  in you."
My list is long with people I have failed to take a  bullet for, and people who I accidentally shot.  Trust me, I've disappointed people.  and so have you.
I hope that this statement is not a resolution. I made a resolution to never make a newyears resolution starting the next year when I was 14. I didn't want to change because of guilt, but go a bit deeper and find why I feel guilty. Change the thing that causes the guilt, not be changed by the guilt. That is the difference between surviving cancer of the emotions and succumbing to it.
but anyway. I'll be up until new years starting my plan to keep the house clean. It's an issue of disciplining myself to clean the house when I don't want to. If I wait until I want to; if I wait until Motivation strikes, It will be like standing on stairs waiting for someone to push me down them. In the end you could've sucked it up, walked down the stairs and saved yourself some time in traction.
Madame Pearl has had on a white board in our living room three weeks of planning that she was compulsed to write by that need to bolt down her fleeting happiness. It's like eating your feelings only its with tables and graphs instead of cheesecake. Basically, she gave herself a high pressure ultimatum that caused a lot of stress and strife, and I doubt she is still following it. here is my new solution. I wrote a new three week schedule on the smaller white board on the fridge complete with algebra representation of our house:
this is our house if it was a messy, unresolved equation.
3X^2+ab-30+c=c+ab-x^2+19
week one, solve for zero:
This means just get the house CLEAN! There is a difference between CLEAN and ORGANIZED. I believe the mistress Pearl has been biting of more than she can chew by trying to solve this equation in it's current state. So, I'm starting with the office, and moving across the house. any papers I'm basically organizing into school, music, money, other and trash. Any other Items I plan to place into homogeneous piles of crap and keep them in neat stacks for week two. I'm going to be done with the whole house in a week and as a requirement for that, I have to keep the upkeep going on the house as well. Mrs. P can put in her two cents in the project of course, but unfortunately, I can't wait for her to get the complicated equation to fit into a logical sequence, so I'm just going to set the whole damn thing to zero and simplify it. Sorry honey, I can't wait for you anymore.
After one groups all the crap into homogeneous piles:
3X^2+x^2-30-19+ab-ab+c-c=-x^2+x^2+19-19+ab-ab+c-c
And simplifies everything back to zero:
3X^2+x^2-30-19+ab-ab+c-c=0
upon consolidating and making the house presentable, not just neat, the equation comes to:
4x^2-49=0
Week 2: This is when we can finally organize this stuff. We will look through the piles, and organize anything that is out of place, factor out what we don't need, and then simplify everything into logical patterns. In other words, now that the house has a starting point, we can then go into the things that make everything fall apart every semester.
See our newly zeroed out house become a factored quadradic.
(2x+7)(2x-7)=0
this makes this so easy. Once we start at zero we can make a better system of keeping the sides resolved besides just panicking about the mess. we have a week to put the equation of the apartment to this point.
week 3: solution! the answer to the whole thing is to work when we are tired. Both of us hate this concept because we both have parents who were chained to being busy, out of necessity, and we both have that kind of resentment towards that kind of neglect, even if it was for our livelihood. It also means that we have to be grown-ups and that is a benchmark that we refuse to accept for some reason. For me, it means that the ideas that plague me at night will have to simply be choked down for the sake of the whole and for my wife, it means that she may not have a chance to be an adolescent adult. Her mother saw to it that she played mom to her own little brother and so she didn't get more than a month of youthful reckless abandonment... (which was rekindled a year after that month and my daughter was born.) and I hoped that she would get to be more social, once again, I'll take another bullet and keep her off of my shot-on-my-watch list. Go be a girl, be forlorn and sad. Go have friends, go spend money, just come back and act your age so I don't have to carry us both. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow will die.
That's why this song is the last one. I'm breaking the habit of letting the house fall to hell. "I don't want to be the one the battles always choose, but inside I realize that I am the one confused, cus i don't know what's worth fighting for, or why I have to scream, but now I have some clarity to show you what I mean, I don't know how I got this way, I'll never be alright(or rested for the rest of my life) so I'm breaking the habit tonight. happy new year. It's the first. I've got a lot to do tonight. farewell.
Monday, December 31, 2007
My Playlist for the end of 2007
Labels:
algebra,
anger,
Chevy,
cleaning,
depression,
Dog house,
faith,
fight club,
Jason,
Linkin Park,
music,
Nissan,
picking a fight,
regret,
resolutions
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
 

No comments:
Post a Comment