Walk in the park

I took a walk in the park the other day to try and clear my head. I haven't really felt myself lately, and to be honest, I've forgotten again who I was. I feel like an empty shell. This and other things floated through my skull in the six hours I was out. In fact, my mind was so occupied that I walked pretty much from one end of Jesmond Dene to another, came out of the exit and didn't know where the hell I was. I picked what I thought might be the right direction and attempted to walk to town. I ended up on the far side of the Hoppings, so it wasn't too bad. I then went to see Ghost rider....and the terrible script and acting helped empty my mind. Instead it replaced it with thoughts like "What the hell? How bad is this?". Terrible terrible film. Anyway, back to the park....

Thoughts occupied my mind such as "How can others see in us what we can't?" It seems to be a common theme throughout life. We rely on others to tell us who they interpret us to be. Maybe that's the part of the puzzle we're all missing. An outside perspective. Then again, it's really not that simple. People may get the wrong impression, they may have you totally wrong, they may do more harm than good. In the end we'll never truly know ourselves.

By this point I'd reached the animal enclosure, showcasing chickes, goats, sheep, parrots etc. I got to thinking: "How easy would life be if we were animals?" Think about it, for example, if your a Lion you have your pride. You know who you're with, little chopping or changing, you also know who's boss. If you want to progress you take it into your own hands/paws. You fight (literally) for what you want, and if you're worthy you can take it.

Once I'd reach the bird cages I stared at a parrot, and it stared right back at me. Silently we stood there reading each others thoughts. I could see that he was out for what he could get, seeds, freedom, whatever. I'm sure he was thinking the same thing about me....although I'm not quite sure if he knew I wasn't a big seed person.

Another revalation struck me. No one has it easy in this life, animal or man. Why should we? What have we done to deserve it? You can try to be a good person, but it usually comes to nothing, no matter how deserving we try to be. Life and what you do in it is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

I know, it's taking a downward spiral here. For some reason the phrase "Don't think your loved just because your dog loves you" jumped into my head. I guess it was all the people walking their pooches on that chilly morning. You'd be surprised how many jolly dog walkers there are that early one, which gets me thinking. It seems to be working for them? Sure some of them may just have a dog for company, and that loves' enough. People may see it as an animal manipulating it's owner to get what it wants, but isn't that all that humans do? Babies for the few weeks of their lives have no concept of the world around them. They gurgle and cry to get the desired effects. They don't care whether you like it or not. Some would argue that this trend seems to stretch into the late teens and beyond.

I sat down to read a few minutes after the animal section (see, I'd thought ahead despite my head full of junk). Between my book and the occasional passer by and their owners, I could feel the sun coming out from behind the heavy clouds. Each time a cloud passed out of the way the world glowed anew, a strange sense of calm and happiness filled me. It made me smile everytime the light hit my face, which I had thought impossible. The warmth on my face instilled a feeling of change, I was getting somewhere with my inner demons.

Incidentally, the writings of Kafka (the short stories at least) block the mind tremendously. It's so complex and the imagery is so clear that you have no room in your head for anything else. It pushes everything aside so that you can only read, imagine, and breath. Amazing.

One Kafka story (called "The Judgement" I believe) followed a simple tale of a man who had lost contact with an old friend. Over time he decided to tell his friend less and less as he felt that he had been gone so long that nothing that was at home would interest him. This also led him to avoid telling his friend about his impending marriage. The man confronts his father to discuss this moral dilemna. His father turns around and laughs, for he has been writing to the friend all along, telling him every detail of the life they had been leading. An argument insued and what it boiled down to in the end was the concepts of faith and respect. The man had mis-used both of these, leading his father to tell him to kill himself in the river. Although he felt enormous guilt and respect, the man decided to carry out his fathers orders in a slightly different route and jumped in front of a car. It just struck me that in different times (it was probably written in the mid 20's, early 30's) people would have such different morals. No one would do that in this day and age, but then does that mean we have no respect for each other? Or do we hold life more dear than ever? In the end life is what you make of it, and it's always been different for everyone.

Shame, guilt et al

Hi. How's it going? I've had a bit too much on my mind recently and to be honest, I've wished I could have gotten round to writing this sooner. I don't think it best to discuss what's been on my mind, but no doubt you'll come to one conclusion or another. Sorry to be ambiguous, but at least it'll give you a puzzle to figure (or preferably not :P). Anyway, the first thought from my way over flowing box of thoughts....

It's dawned on me that for the past, oooh, two months or so, I've felt no shame or guilt.....about anything. I haven't felt guilt for a long time mind you. Hell, if you're going to do something, then you should have considered it first, then you have nothing to feel guilty about. I suppose this is one advantage about not being spontaneous.....obviously there are disadvantages, but that hasn't been a problem so far.

Shame on the other hand is a newly lost mental state. I used to be an incredibly shy person, I'm still shy, but compared to what I was it's no comparison. Shame was something easy to come by for me. I think I lost it during the sumo wrestling at work. Well I guess you've got to have no shame to get into a fat suit in front of your colleagues and wrestle someone to the ground. Man that tired me out, I was huffing and puffing all day (but I won both fights, despite what Monk says about the second one!). I can't wait to see the pictures.

Some time after this incident I discovered something else new about myself. I seem to have picked up some jealousy from somewhere. I haven't felt this since I was around 10. It's not pleasant and I'm sure I'll be saving it for special occassions. It's my least favourite emotion.

Memory memories

Isn't it odd how the mind plays tricks? Memory is fluid, it's not always constant. In "The adventures of Sherlock Holmes", it states that the accuracy of memory depends upon the experience it presents. A happy experience is often remembered inaccurately, as emotions can taint the recording. Negative experiences are often recorded more accurately since such things as fear and hate do not taint the memory so.

I believe that this is why it is so much easier to feel unhappy. You can more accurately (and therefore more quickly) recall unhappy memories. Because happy ones are more difficult to recall they may not have the same impact, or are indeed easier to delete.

I guess it's not just my mind that hates me.

But then, I could be completely wrong. I am afterall using my memory for the majority of this theory. I may have been too happy whilst reading that marvellous peice of fiction (although admittedly Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was way ahead of his time and based such theories on actual principles), and remembered it inacurately. Hell, I may have the whole thing back to front. But then, does that not go some way to proving my point? Memory is unreliable, no matter how you look at it.

Zebra's stripes

Is a zebra white with black stripes, or black with white stripes? Does it really matter? Colour is a pigment of the skin (or in this case fur), and while it acts as an indication of heritage, it's not really anything other than an evolutionary tool to give us some added individuality. Would zebra's persecute each other if they thought they were different colours from their kin? No ? Then why should we?

I am....

If I don't feel that I can be myself, then who am I? And does whoever I am mind if I'm feeling them?

What do I do?

Why do I do what I do?
What makes me do it?
What exactly is it that I do do?
I don't seem to do anything.
Does that mean I am nothing?
Does it imply a lack of substance or just a lack of motivation?
Is it what we do that defines us. or what we don't do?

Sorry

Sorry if it feels like I've been neglecting you. Everytime I sit down to write I get distracted. It's been a somewhat hectic time and I promise I'll make a crap load of posts very soon. That's right, I made a promise and as you may have noticed, that just doesn't happen. My general rule in life?

"Never promise anything and never trust anyone, because you never know what's going to happen."

But I'm determined, yep yep. Just you watch (and give me a battering if I don't).

Carnal instinct

It's strange the things you think about whilst performing menial tasks. For instance, I was just hanging my socks up to dry when I had an epiphany. Whilst I do have the base carnal desires that are inherent in most people, they don't seem to have much substance behind them. Do we need an emotional attachment in order to persue such things as would be ideal, or do we give in to those instincts? If we carry out the latter, what of the aftermath? Does it really matter? The awkward silence, the attempts to avoid eye contact. It's just speculation, but it's a thought.

Could I ever really feel that close to anyone? Would that stop me? Of late I've felt a little dead inside. Now it's true that I've spent a large portion of my life that way, but it's not the greatest. Hmm

New training and writing

I need to fight the urge again to start all blogs with 'Well'. Damn me. Anyway, today was the first day of training for my new job within the company. I know. Me actually posting on the same day something happens. Shock horror. It wasn't so bad. It could get very VERY boring, but you never know. The hours are okay. I'm with a lot of people I know. We'll see how it goes.

Admittedly I did go a little crazy with tiredness and boredom. So much so that I wrote the following:

How do I know I'm not an apple?
Just 'cos people tell me I'm not, it doesn't make it so.
Do apples have this problem, or is it just me?
Some apples surely believe this whole heartedly, but not me.
I am a pessimistic apple, rotten and worm riddled to the core.

I quite like it.

Shunned by the blog awards

The other day I was reading the paper and spied an article in the local paper. The Metro blog awards were asking people to submit their blogs to be judged. "I thought, what the hell? Why not? If anything it'll spread my insanity to a larger audience." That was about a week ago. They seem to have refused my entry. Guess I'm too strange for the metro paper. That or the language.

In case you're interested, you can find it at http://www.metro.co.uk/blogawards

A day at the races

We went to the dog races for our leaving do the other day. I've only been once before and I loved it then. I was getting some insane heart palputations that time with the excitement. It felt like my chest was going to explode, and knowing my luck my guts would probably hit the dog I was betting on and make it lose. As it was, everything stayed in my chest and I more or less made my money back my first time around.

This time however, my heart behaved itself. I did seem to be the only one betting most of the time, but that may have been because I was so concentrated on betting that I didn't notice anyone else. This time around I was insanely engrossed. I studied the forms. Previous positions, racing times, the dogs name didn't even come into it. It all seemed to work out too because I left £10 up. Overall I won about £26. It seemed that the more and more I won, the more and more people got pissed off (especially the Monk hahaha). It got so bad that he went round and asked people he know's if they'd beat the crap out of me. Considering I was forewarned that I was going to get a good smack anyway, I was surprised no one stood up. The next day I was slightly disappointed no one did (although admittedly I would like to keep my teeth). It wasn't until the day after that I found out exactly how many people hated me for winning. Some people hehe.

I also developed a habit of shouting at the dogs. I don't think they could hear me from where I was, but it seemed to help. I may have developed a little racing torettes. Whoops.

At one point I claimed that Monk was a pigeon who was going to jump down a manhole and hang himself on a tiny noose I had placed there. I don't quite know if I was delerious from the victory, or someone was slipping things into my drinks. Either way, my victory dance just kept getting more and more elaborate, as well as lasting until the next race.

On the very last race I couldn't decide which dog to pick. One had won it's past 6 races, another had some damn fine lap times. In the end I picked both. Soon after the race was on, they ran into each other, and came almost joint last. Oh well, £10 is £10.

Decisions done

Well, I've made my choice. As to whether I'll get it or not remains to be seen. How annoying would that be? I put so much thought and research into making an informed decision and it still doesn't matter. Ho hum, I guess we're just at a wait and see juncture.

In the end I narrowed it down to two choices. Boring days with decent hours, or more interesting days with ludacris hours. I chose the former for several reasons. Firstly, no matter how interesting a job is, eventually you'll cover all possible scenario's and it becomes routine. Why should I suffer intolerable hours when that'll happen eventually? Secondly, there's no way I want to work 'til 11pm, especially on a Sunday. Thirdly, more people I like have chosen the same option. It's not just a case of choosing it because everyone else chose that, but because it'll make settling in a little easier.

I'm still not happy about the move, but fingers crossed.