Wow, the post i made last night so did not get posted. Kind of a bummer, but not that big of a loss. It was just me being morose about leaving, seeing pain in people's eyes, and thinking what goes on behind us all.
Today I am seeing the Handsome Boy Modelling School. Dan the Automator is one of the main men in this crew, and to be honest, it'll be weird seeing him live. This is based mainly on the fact that I wrote this big paper on Deltron 3030, a project of his, Del's, and Kid Koala's. If Del is at the show, I will die. It'll be like meeting Elvis, if he were on heroine and a rapper.
But today I will think about how experience is different for each person, or experiences, I should say. They can be so altered by substances and different things that we can never really be sure of ourselves, of what really goes on, or what is reality. I'm not really thinking in the philosophical sense here, that's not my realm, but I am thinking more in the sense that we can misconstrue things, read too much or too little into situations, and generally make asses of ourselves over a plethora of situations.
We can't really be sure or good about anything until it's past. Either that, or we have other people bear witness to our deeds, our misadventures, and remind us forever how they failed or succeeded, how we died or lived, how we go on. We need other people to know that we indeed do exist, and that our experiences are our own. But wait.
"Write in recollection and amazement for yourself" - Jack Kerouac
So what does that say? We may not be sure of what goes on, and we need people to exist, but in a strange way, our own perspectives make things more interesting. I've told and heard a story about myself and my friend John almost getting into a massive fight with some kids about 100 times. It's a great story. Thing is, the details change depending on who tells it. I go for a more subtle approach. We were quiet, and this unsettled them (the adversaries) and they left, even though they outnumbered us 8 to 2. When John tells the story, I'm a frothing mess and he is holding me back. I yell and scream and he's telling them to run.
"What sticks to memory, often, are those odd little fragments that have no beginning and no end"
-Tim O'Brien, "The Things They Carried"
We lived the same situation, but we each tell it differently. It reflects our personalities. In him I can see that I exist, that I was there and things happened, but through our stories we see things we missed, and it makes me question life. Was I really frothing, ready to kill? Were we really quiet? There are some consistensies in the stories; attires, numbers, a bike, a cigar, etc, but the action changes. The outcome is the same, but really that's not the point.
I guess what I am trying to say is that in life there are so many ways to see things that we can never be sure about any single event. We can find what we want everywhere, and we can fool ourselves into believing things that are not and never were true. We are wonderful beasts for this ability, yet ultimately damned, as hope can be the crulest mistress of them all. When hope is there, and fades, it is the saddest of all things.
Here's to hope.
-ccm
Today I am seeing the Handsome Boy Modelling School. Dan the Automator is one of the main men in this crew, and to be honest, it'll be weird seeing him live. This is based mainly on the fact that I wrote this big paper on Deltron 3030, a project of his, Del's, and Kid Koala's. If Del is at the show, I will die. It'll be like meeting Elvis, if he were on heroine and a rapper.
But today I will think about how experience is different for each person, or experiences, I should say. They can be so altered by substances and different things that we can never really be sure of ourselves, of what really goes on, or what is reality. I'm not really thinking in the philosophical sense here, that's not my realm, but I am thinking more in the sense that we can misconstrue things, read too much or too little into situations, and generally make asses of ourselves over a plethora of situations.
We can't really be sure or good about anything until it's past. Either that, or we have other people bear witness to our deeds, our misadventures, and remind us forever how they failed or succeeded, how we died or lived, how we go on. We need other people to know that we indeed do exist, and that our experiences are our own. But wait.
"Write in recollection and amazement for yourself" - Jack Kerouac
So what does that say? We may not be sure of what goes on, and we need people to exist, but in a strange way, our own perspectives make things more interesting. I've told and heard a story about myself and my friend John almost getting into a massive fight with some kids about 100 times. It's a great story. Thing is, the details change depending on who tells it. I go for a more subtle approach. We were quiet, and this unsettled them (the adversaries) and they left, even though they outnumbered us 8 to 2. When John tells the story, I'm a frothing mess and he is holding me back. I yell and scream and he's telling them to run.
"What sticks to memory, often, are those odd little fragments that have no beginning and no end"
-Tim O'Brien, "The Things They Carried"
We lived the same situation, but we each tell it differently. It reflects our personalities. In him I can see that I exist, that I was there and things happened, but through our stories we see things we missed, and it makes me question life. Was I really frothing, ready to kill? Were we really quiet? There are some consistensies in the stories; attires, numbers, a bike, a cigar, etc, but the action changes. The outcome is the same, but really that's not the point.
I guess what I am trying to say is that in life there are so many ways to see things that we can never be sure about any single event. We can find what we want everywhere, and we can fool ourselves into believing things that are not and never were true. We are wonderful beasts for this ability, yet ultimately damned, as hope can be the crulest mistress of them all. When hope is there, and fades, it is the saddest of all things.
Here's to hope.
-ccm
posted by CCMAS | 7:12 PM
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