Guys

Guys, I've been neglecting my blogging time. In fact I've been almost purposefully pushing my blogging time into the back of my existence so as not to have to deal with things that I don't want to deal with. Although, I don't think I really have any idea what I really don't want to deal with, I just know there are things that are emotionally difficult to confront.

So I will attempt to confront them over time, or at least I will let time and God help me confront them. One of them being my reliance on my image for things to be ok, normal, acceptable. But that reliance creates an unhealthy hatred/loving towards it. Oh woes be unto him who does not know how to stop modeling. Psalmts 245:1.

I am not a very interesting writer, I know that. I come from a background of two never-ending salads a day and a pot of soup. There ain't nothin interesting about that, and almost lacking in nutrients, devoid of nutrition. Almost. It IS actually more nutritional than what I was having before. Oy.

Ok, so yesterday I texted Caleb, saw Aaron, the ginger eyelashed, red-bearded, tiny little man who seems to me as if he's a bunny hopping around all these places in his little Element with a thing on top. He's got gatchets and gizmos a plenty, whozits and whatzits galore. You want thingamabobs? He's got 20. But I'm not sure if I care, or if it's a big deal because personally, I want more.

But still, I cannot deny that the implied hope of being adored is not attractive. Sort as if I'm seeing a video game of myself acted out in the future world that comes with Aaron walking, turtle-like with his backpack as his shell, onto my stage. I walktz around (a mixture of waltzing and walking, for, let's face it, I am not a proficient dancer but rather a really rather wonderful walker), and wahaa! Here is someone who can love me in pictures, hooray! And rejoice-dance I do. I am with my brother Reagan at the time, who is grappling with existentialism, as any young 18 year old should, and who likes to cut me off at any point in whatever way he can. Which I completely understand. Make that person stop talking. Make that person stop trying to tell me what is and what isn't. Who knows?! And this I completely understand.

Alors, it is in my power to go to Phoenix today, in the 180 mile an hour winds that threaten to unearth the sand a foot deep and transport it from this desert to the ocean. What would we be left with after that? Well, more rocks and sand I imagine. But I doubt I will make that drive, seeing as I might just topple over in my Element, and the sound of a falling model is like the screeching cry of a baby cat being strangled. Yeah.

In acting class there are these people, the gothic tubular people of a future race, all giggling and wishing and hoping for the unexpected to spring upon them. With me. And instead of letting the traps be set and the jumps be had, instead we conjure, we create problems rather than waiting to try to solve ones that already exist. In this fashion I think we live longer.

That's about all I have today. I don't know what else to write. It's 5:25am, I woke up at 2:30 raring to go and am now half dressed in my workout clothes and pajamas. It's an existential crisis in and of itself. What to do? Get stronger, even though I hate my muscles? Or waste the morning sitting and creating more fat cells to wallow in...or be comfortable in...which is it?