Grr, arrgh

Violence stirred in the otherwise calm night. The creature, confined in a darkness that mirrored its own thoughts and desires, thrashed in defiance of its prisoner's chains. But its actions were in vain for those very restraints had been developed specifically for this purpose.

For ages past, this foul entity had stalked the countryside. By its hands, with its jagged blade-like fur as dark as the night itself, would it spoil the fruits of hard labour that went into carving the expansive tundra into a livable landscape. By its furious fiery red eyes would it gaze into the eyes of men and women alike, piercing into their very souls to instill an awing, paralyzing, sense of terror. Truly, it was proud of its work, both its destruction and infliction, though perhaps too proud.

For there eventually came a time when the countrymen banded together to produce a plan as cunning as anything that could be conceived by the great beast itself. In one fell swoop did the it fall into the trap. Although it resisted capture with all its might, the combined strength of the countrymen proved the greater force and the creature was subdued.

Bound as it was, the band could not find a way to destroy the creature. All forms of injury proved to be neither fatal nor even permanent. And so, to the chagrin of all that had hoped to rid the earth completely of this plague, the folk settled upon the eternal physical containment of the darkness. A location far, far away from the settlements, deep within the wilderness, was selected to be its forever holding place.

There, caged and chained, the demon was hidden away, out of sight, out of mind. However, despite their mortal enemy being contained and kept far away from their normal day-to-day, the memory of the age-old sin would never truly leave the minds of its former victims. Every night, upon toiling against its oppressive manacles and the inevitable frustration that would accompany that ever-futile exercise, there would be a great cry of agony coming from the darkness, so loud that even the ground would reverberate in its wake.

Confined in darkness did the creature languish, awaiting that faithful day when its bonds would finally weaken and it would once again be afforded its freedom to terrorize all that had the breath of life. Day after day and night after night did it plot and plan in painstaking detail its inevitable revenge upon the world that had dared to rebel against its rightful tyranny.

Bikini

Something I found myself doing periodically in my uneventful holiday break was watch documentaries, one of the few things that I would say I actually like doing. A good number of these were about illicit drug usage.

Psychoactive substances have always been an area of interest for me. Just how do these compounds push us into the states they do and why do these compounds (and these states) have such a hold on some of us who end up using? And what can be done to those who have entered into a seemingly unbreakable cycle of addiction (some unwittingly while some not as much)? It's a very multifaceted topic that easily succeeds in holding my attention.

Recently, during one of my journeyings through cyberspace, I came across a post about a person's whose worldview had been significantly altered after taking acid (apparently a common phenomenon). When watching television or movies, he would see actors on a set. Watching commercials, he would only see individuals pushing products they have absolutely no interest in. He also began seeing his life as being a much more menial affair than it had been prior (e.g. doing a 9-5 he had no interest in, spending money on meaningless things, etc).

Something about that post really resonated within me. Something along the lines of how there is probably so much in my own life that is appreciable if only I stick my head out of the trees for one moment to see the forest. Now, I think it's safe to say that I'll probably never do acid, so epiphanies are not going to occur through those means. But, still, I find that something is different in the way I approach my day-to-day. The world somehow seems a bit bigger than it did before, the sky a bit higher. I find myself being less pessimistic about those things that I do, seeing opportunity where there was once but a dead-end.

Taken together, tomorrow seems just a bit more hopeful.

Idiosyncratic

Something I've recently been trying to do more of is the accepting the, as my friend calls them, "idiosyncrasies" of others ...in other words, their flaws. I don't know which is more the case: that I extrapolate too much from the actions of others or that the vast majority of us are just deeply flawed people. 

Of course, many people may not offend with malicious intent. Ultimately, outside of what I'll consider a small minority of people who derive pleasure from hurting others, I'd say these idiosyncrasies are more likely instinctual reactions developed from various moments in their upbringing, i.e. they are defensive mechanisms. Still, there's no doubt that, in the wrong context, these actions can be deleterious and can erode away our relations with others. 

I wonder what my own idiosyncrasies are. I wonder if I offend people regularly because of them. Hopefully, one day, I'll be able to shed all that garbage.

Happy new year...

Well, that concludes another set of winter holidays. School resumes tomorrow and I find myself wholly awake, unable to fall into that resting state of mind, something of which that I surely require to prepare me for the incoming torrential onslaught. But, for whatever reason, my thoughts have deemed it necessary that I stay awake just a while longer. And, so, perhaps, as a final act of rebellion, I'll indulge it some more time for my consciousness to peer around my mind's vast landscape, memories of both great triumph and utter regret (though unfortunately, it seems that the latter seems to predominate).

As I tried listening to my iPod to transition into the sleep phases, I find many songs associated with very specific memories. These memories are sometimes innocuous such as the vague recollections of particular settings I had listened to the song in the past or times the songs had come up in discussion somewhere. Other times, these memories pull towards less desirable states where I well up with feelings of rueful disapproval.

Times that particular disturb are instances where there is a pronounced perception of naivete on my part. Something turns me afoul faster than watching my younger self act in his all too typical pompous self, only to neglect something obvious of vital importance (though, in his much needed defence, I guess, many times in hindsight), finally finding himself back to square one when his own deluded machinations have so inevitably failed.

Oh what a chump he was. And, oh what a chump he still is. And, oh what a chump he will e'er be. I don't doubt for a second that many more nights of such a quality await me in those ominous spaces of tomorrow.