Fever.

Peggy Lee sings about it.  It's passion.  It's FIRE.  Which means it's dangerous.

The Beatles sing "All you need is love."  Tell that to the estimated 10.4 million single mothers and 2.5 million single fathers in the US.  I might politely suggest that love is far from their most immediate needs.  Of course, conversely, trying to explain THAT to the roughly 3,000 people A DAY that commit suicide may be a difficult argument--for more than one reason; chiefly because trying to explain anything to a dead person is a bit of a moot point, hm?

What argument am I trying to make here?  Love is perilous.  It's hazardous to our health and overall well-being as we put ourselves in such an incredibly vulnerable state that we are susceptible to almost anything.  Why is this?  Love is empyreal.  We have so many chemicals that almost literally put our bodies into auto-pilot that we find ourselves often times feeling like we have no control over our emotions, namely love.  Estrogen, Testosterone, Serotonin, Oxytocin, Dopamine, Norepinephrine....these, and more, are some of the culprits that lead to our "love."  Love is almost literally a drug.  It can't be described adequately with words, sure; but the discourse one might have after an experience is usually great, especially if that person experiences any pain related to it.  Indeed, there are other ineffable experiences like having a child, colours, the soul, etc, but love is the most intoxicating and obsessive, and can leave a person in such a state of disarray that they might be almost unrecognizable by those who "know" them.  

I'm not one to "bag" on love usually.  I'm a firm believer in pleasure, and experiencing love and almost everything that it brings with it can be truly sublime--for however long it might last.  So is it really as the moth explains?  (See below)

the lesson of the moth

By Don Marquis, in "archy and mehitabel," 1927

i was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense

plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself
on a patent cigar lighter
i do not agree with him
myself i would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity

but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself

archy

 

Maybe it is worth all the pain and agony that could [possibly] accompany it.  As for me and my house, I'm sure we'd break if we endeavored it any time soon.  So, for now I'll enjoy half the happiness but twice the longevity of my mental health.  

Here's to happiness, tranquility and mental health....hopefully I find a treasure map to them soon.

At the speed of LIFE.

Being that light always travels at a constant speed it might be better to measure by the speed of life.

A similarity between light and life, that I happen to enjoy, is that it exists whether we can actually see it or not.  And while some animals can see light in ways that humans can not, so it can be said about life.  Also (I think I'll start every sentence with an A, will I?)...ahem, ALSO, select human beings somehow manage to see the spectrum of life differently than what I might say MOST do.  I particularly NEED these people.  As it stands I am on a whole other wave length than the majority of people that I know.  I know, we ALL feel "so alone" in so many ways and to consider myself unique in that sense is insensitive and altogether unrealistic.  However, I feel like I am in an experiment in which there is a control group and I am the free radical.  

Or maybe I'm a placebo.  I don't know.  I can imagine it all now, "Here, take this and let us know if you see an improvement."  And of course, people think they're improved by me....but really, it's always been in them to be who I showed them they could be.  I was just a boost of confidence is all.  In any case, I'm happy to be utilized in such a way if it is the case.  

Lies travel at the speed of life.  Dysfunctionally, inordinately, and so much more speedily than we ever realized...until it catches up with us.  And, as I've had an idiotic epiphany only moments ago, anything that requires recanting later is a lie of some sort.  Even if we've only lied to ourselves...it's just as debilitating.  I can FEEL myself getting closer to ME.  The more I let go of the childish ideas that were bore into me--the drivel that almost everyone I know subscribes to--the more at peace I start to feel with my core.  The hang up here is that sometimes I have difficulties discerning what exactly is truth for me and what is not.  I've held on pretty steadfastly to some of my "convictions" or "beliefs" that I'm struggling with knowing whether I do actually believe them or not.  

Of course, lies from others only complicate the whole mess--this is really my conundrum.  If I can keep a person at arms length, or at least away from me intimately, trust is almost never an issue.  However, almost instantly when that intimacy barrier is crossed words mean nothing and it is all reduced down to actions.  I'm grappling with this in a somewhat universal sense, as well as a personal one.  Part of the "square peg/round hole" riddle, with me, is that I will test people that I either CAN care about very deeply or already do to the point of pushing them away (intentionally) to simply see if they'll actually find me worthwhile enough to take it.  I have gotten so severe with this practice that I feel I might almost deliberately try to ruin someone's life or make such a complete disaster out of it just to see how far they would go to keep me in their life.  It makes utter and complete sense...in a lunatic sort of way.  

Pain travels at the speed of life.  But a dull...unused....and unloved life.  Which means that it is perceived as traveling much slower than other experiences, and essentially magnifies the agony as it's the only conceivable thing to focus on.  The pangs of lies still resonate with me and are greatly amplified, I suppose, because of this.  To explain, the pain is not from the actual experience...but the sense of worthlessness I acquired from it.  To feel worthy again is my mission.  To value myself, and hopefully one day to be valued by another, is a great ambition for me.  To even remotely think that another person may not think my heart and soul is precious might be too much for me to bear, again.

The struggles we face within ourselves are immeasurable by a conceivable unit of calculation.  And so....my ongoing struggles with myself can only be quantified at the speed of life.  Indeterminable when it might all end...and an anticipatory desire for a, at the very least, contented result.  

Here's to immeasurable experiences, growth, new endeavors, and deep fears.  Let's hope the latter travels from my life at the speed of light.

Time.

An interesting concept, time.  

Strangely, I've been having quite a few conversations about it as of late.  It's always interesting to hear others talk about their views on it, if they have any at all.  For me it's fascinating to hear other's views about anything really...I always love to be wrong about life!

So...TIME.  A way to measure our lives, essentially.  A quantified hypothetical/manifested element used to define so many other loosely "existing" components of life.  Of course I can almost completely understand why we need it...it's a way of grounding ourselves, of giving ourselves limitations.  Basically as human beings we don't know how to truly exist with no boundaries;  we are unable to conceive the principal of "just being."  It gets us from point A to point B, though, and with that then we learn to provide some sort of meaning to it all.  

I'm over trying to explain the obscure in too much detail. I seem to either bore individuals (and groups) fairly quickly, or I just lose them altogether, when doing so.

In any case...MY time, my length of existence, has been one filled with moments that have either seemed to be in fast-forward or slow motion.  Real-time is not a concept I grasp too firmly--although I'm positive I cannot be the only person that knows what I mean by this...at least I hope I'm not.  Forever in retrospect my moments seem to be so beautiful, or at the least interesting and worthwhile.  I have little indifference to any event in my life;  people, sure--events, not so much.  I am fortunate to truly believe I've walked away from every experience with a gained knowledge or some sort of benefit.  This thought might be equivalent to the universally [daft] cliched saying/belief that "everything happens for a reason,"  which I loathe, by the way (people choose their wording too simply all too often.)  

In any case, before I make this wholly indiscernible and too broad let me interject and say that all these thoughts are directly related to my latest "adventure." Ok--so, the concept of time, to me and in direct relation to my 11 day loafer-fest around London, is again tying into my trying to understand my place in this world.  

Rob Thomas (oh God, spare me the musical references...I KNOW) says, quite nicely I might add, that it's in these small hours that our lives are made.  

I keep losing this "supposition," although I do truly believe that.  I guess that might be in correlation to the idiotic and, again, cliched saying that "you only live once," etc.  I DO believe that IN the little moments is where it all really counts.  And to have the capability to devotedly immerse myself in them and appreciate them for how beautiful they really are would likely be one of my top 3 accomplishments in life.  I am unsure, in some ways, why I can not commit to doing this.  I get stuck in the tread-milling thoughts of societal reality, obligations, responsibilities, etc., and I seemingly can not afford myself the invaluable opportunity of getting swept off my feet by Life.  

No matter how bitter or afraid I become of life and of all of its uncertainties, I will, I'm afraid, always have a flicker of hope inside of me that one day....maybe....I'll have that dream of bliss cloaked in love, affection, and ultimate happiness.  We all have our pursuits of happiness, and if we look closely enough we can see so many of them in daily happenings.  Learning the art of being undisciplined in the precisely the right moments is where the trick just might lie, and it seems to be a difficult one to learn.  Again...it all boils down to balance.  

Tick.               Tick.                                                             Tick.  

Time seems to feel much more slowed down when you have something you'd much rather be experiencing.  

Like LIFE, for example.  

Eros?

Throughout my "adult" life I've often found myself wondering how it is that I had ever managed to get over the loss of my great loves.  

Before I proceed I'll say here that while, technically, in the U.S. I was considered an adult at 18, legally and ordained so by myself, I am starting to truly believe that I'm only now coming into my adulthood....at 26.

I have a great capacity to love.  I am curious if this might actually be stupidity, in that when normal people are hurt by love they're smart enough to let themselves grieve and eventually heal;  oftentimes they also end up shutting out certain things in life with regards to love, as well, though.  I believe I have illusions of love.  I also believe I have aversions to love in some ways.  Nevertheless, "love," even in it's most shallow disguises, never seems to evade me for long.  

I am not sure what love really is anymore.  As a child, and until this very moment, I believed it to be a set of rules that I'd been informed of infused with overwhelming feelings of desire, need, intimacy and something brought down from On High.  I absolutely put the entire notion of love into the hands of fate and God and some mystical forces that were forever beyond my realm of understanding.  And while it is still beyond my realm of understanding, I'm over putting my feelings and entire future into the hands of some unknown destiny.  I am almost pretty sure that in order to have the Adonis I must first pick up the proper tools:  Understanding.  

Did I take a piece of my loves with me?  I am not sure.  Some of them are evident in me almost daily, for others it takes concentration and effort, but I can still find a memory or two.  This is the double edged sword of intimacy...true intimacy is never forgotten.  I have had many loves and lovers and there isn't one that I don't still have some fondness for.  Whether he was a rebound or a disaster, a great love or a fleeting  romance, I loved them as wholly as I knew and very particularly.  I could never regret a single one, no matter how disastrous the "ending" might have been.  

So, I have a small piece of each of them with me, yet I'm wondering HOW exactly did I move on?  There were a few, in fact, that I fervently believed I would never make it another day, let alone years, without them.  Of course it was always more devastating when I believed I was the one being left and not vice versa (which indicates something more serious like the devastation of loss of control rather than love).  There are some that are still particularly painful to think about, while with others there is simply an indifference...I thank God for indifference.  My aching is not for the loss of the love but simply just another loss altogether and it is almost too much to bear at times.  And, again, I find myself wondering HOW did I ever manage to get over these pangs of abandonment and betrayal of love and loyalty before?

Building.

Building a bridge to the one you love.

A person could build hundreds of bridges over a lifetime.  We develop in so many different ways in our short lives, and for each new milestone that we reach there could be a new love.  

So how many bridges have I and will I build in my life?  Of this I am not sure.  For me, to build one and have it be eternal would be virtually euphoric.  Although, I've given away a lot of my building supplies to those who seemed promising and it would seem that I only have enough supplies to build myself a shelter instead of an entire bridge.

Maybe (just maybe) someone will have some extra building supplies to spare, and we can somehow meet in the middle.

Moderations...

A sure fire way to make any bad day better is by listening to music that is so sadly depressing that it is actually comical.  Take, for instance, 'Tom Dooley,' this song could make even the most suicidal want to parade around in a tutu.  

"When in doubt, don't;"  This is interesting.  It's a suggestion that's been resonating with me for quite a few months now.  I feel like I'm on some crusade against these "dark forces," but I keep coming back to this place where I think that those "dark forces" are all the turmoil that I cause myself by endeavoring to battle with myself in the first place.  

With that being said, I'm not sure if there is actually a "right" or "wrong" in this world.  I'm beginning to think that those ideas are the equivalent to our idea of time;  it's all relative to how we mean to truly experience this world.  We could live without the concept of time, and also the concept of right or wrong (COULD being the operative word.)  At some point in everyone's life the realization that right and wrong is simply subjective and that it works differently for each person becomes a truth.  When is it though that we abandon all the beliefs we've been herded into and really start adapting to our true selves?  

I'm sure there is no point to this post.  Well, there is.  But I'm tired and I should try for sleep.

Considerations.

At 26 you're supposed to be well equipped, well informed and well on your way to becoming the adult you were intended to be:  A great contribution to society.  

At the moment, and many moments before this one as well, I feel as though my potential has been lost somewhere.

It's not at all unlikely that a person with the sort of upbringings (yes, plural) that I've have to use the nature versus nurture excuse on current behavior, habits, etc.  However, for me, it's just not an excuse ANYMORE;  I used that excuse in my teens and very early twenties.  I am a mother now, and WAS a wife to someone, this should at the very least qualify me in a very loose sense as an adult.  Which then it is appropriate to assume that these are no longer valid excuses for me.  Ushering in ones adulthood means leaving (at least SOME) childish practices to the past.  So, while I may have some ingrained tendencies from some of my childhood traumas, and so forth, using them as excuses for poor decision making now is nothing short of irresponsible.  So I don't.  What I DO have a problem with is blaming the current circumstances for my behavior, which again, is not entirely wrong.  Our environments do shape us, to some great degree.

It is my responsibility now as a mother to make better informed decisions and truly endeavor to change unhealthy behavior.  Many of my struggles that I currently face lie in this assertion.  I struggle with having the knowledge but not quite knowing how to enforce it with myself and police my own actions.  I am unsure if this is a part of "growing up" or if it is simply a byproduct of incessantly giving in to my urge for instant gratification.  Who cares?  It's a problem.  

My greatest dream in life, as it is with many I suspect, is to have a happy, loving and healthy relationship.  The reasons behind having this dream aren't purely self-driven;  I want my son to know things I never knew.  I want my son to know how to function in a healthy relationship, to be able to discern what IS actually healthy and what is not, to have the ability to decide without the confines of disfunction dictating his behavior.  As I hope it is with all parents, or at least the greater majority, I want my son to have a better chance at life than I ever did. 

The sacrifices are great, though.

For some time, while I've been on this journey (only recently seeming to move more swiftly) I've had the distinct displeasure of watching myself have to decide between his future or his present.  I know for his future to be as amazing as I'd like for it to be I have to have a lot of quality "me time," as mothers tend to call it.  I used to think it was because "baby" was leaving me depleted and I just needed to recharge, I've come to realize that I am simply depleted and was long before he arrived.  I give to him the necessities, and more, but not what I know I am fully capable of.  However, it's imperative that the free time I do have is spent nurturing the soul that I lost somewhere.  Maybe it was in the 4th grade when I "sold my soul" to the devil during a physical education work out involving many long laps around the blacktop "track."  Who knows?  But I did lose it.  Maybe I did not lose not all of it, but that force that is suppose to guide someone has long since been indiscernible amongst the chaos in my mind.  I have made many, what I consider, virtually unforgivable mistakes in my lifetime (although I know they are forgiven through Him).  I have compromised what I believed were scruples to get my instant gratification and inevitably ended up in a place where I was left with nothing.  The time came for me to decide whether to sacrifice some straightaway happiness (which is essential to his growth) or possibly sacrifice the rest of his truly cognizant life and his ability to know happiness then.  I chose now.  Maybe I chose now for simple reasons such as his memory not being "all that great" with the hopes that he wouldn't remember any specific instances of not being particularly doted on as a mother might-should (southern colloquialism...I think it's cute.)  Or maybe I really believe that with overcoming the issues I have now I'll be better prepared to deal with whatever damage I do now later.  Or maybe both.  One can only hope.

It is my belief that one can only do what they can in any given moment, which is always their best.  Even if that "best" doesn't measure up to what most would do...it's still all one might truly know to do in that moment.  Here's hoping that my best counts later.

And as I hear the pulse of death approach I sigh.

I didn't know that this was the fruit of such laborious efforts.  Somehow, someWHERE, I acquired the belief that it all meant something and that life--yes this life--had just rewards for those who sacrificed, bled, and loved.  Somehow I was inclined to think that I, too, would be included in the gaze of favor and I would feel that warmth.

Instead I lie awake nightly whispering softly my hopes for eternal rest.

My questions cease.  My longing snuffed out like a candle flame.  My hopes are truly all that have been put into an everlasting slumber.  They have been lulled by carnage, war, and silence.  

Silence is...silence is the reaper. 

No mas despotricar...at least for today...

Stranger than fiction.  My life in general.  In a nutshell if you will.  I couldn't make this stuff up.  I could, however, make complete sentences.  

I am not sure which is stranger;  deciding to do a complete "overhaul" on my life, getting reacquainted with someone that I knew for half my life and never knew them, or getting a phone call that a friend's husband cut off three of his fingers.  Commensuration is my motto!  

So how many licks DOES it take to get to the centre of a Tootsie Pop?

All things being equal, I'm positive at this point that it takes 6 failed attempts, one emotional outburst (maybe two depending on your emotional investment), a trip to the emergency room, and an end result of yourself just buying the new stick-less versions that you immediate bite into.

Quitting smoking is much like this.  A recently acquired pamphlet helped explain to me that it takes 6 "honest" attempts (I am sure that with all other endeavors I have been lying to myself) before one might actually quit.  This is somewhat disheartening;  first because I have to admit that I am and have been a liar for 10 years, and secondly because, in all seriousness, having something that is only a few inches long dictate so much of my life for the past decade seems utterly ridiculous.  I'd rather have something SEVERAL inches long, with much more pleasure associated with it (and positive results), dictate my life.  

I am increasingly aware and fascinated by humans and their experiences.  I say it in this way because I am almost positive that I've yet to join the race as a whole.  Recently I've had a few "square peg/round hole" conversations with others, and while I think most feel that they are this in some ways,  I think by and large few people really feel left out of the "big secret," as I do.  Religiously or spiritually speaking, I am sure many feel this way.  If we can diverge life and spirituality (some do this religiously) I might suggest that this big secret is simply knowing how to function on a healthy level, but who discerns what is healthy?

I want answers.

I seem to get answers from people who chiefly believe they have them yet struggle with having a functional life themselves.  I seem to give answers also, so I know this idea to be true.  We share what we have learned, and what it is that we think we know or have figured out.  But the answers really are vague in the sense that "what works for one may not work for another."  Sure we are all like finger prints and so ornately different, but we all have common denominators;  the obvious being that we are all the same species.  Everyone can, essentially, be divided up into categories of human beings.  I myself (I always like using this because it flirts dangerously with grammatical mishaps) have a caste system that I like to employ when feeling self righteous, which seems to be often.  I am sure that there was supposed to be a paragraph break in here somewhere, however I am running off 2 cups of DECAF and 1 1/2 hours of sleep.  Ahem.  My caste system is biological, mostly.  It divides us into the ones who do and the ones who have others do for us, essentially.  It is more complicated than that, but for efficiency's sake I will refrain at the moment.  

Where can I contribute?  Certainly it's not through my self-serving blogs.  

I am sleep deprived.  I will attempt to nap now.  Nap is always a fun word when one is 26.

The Anatomy of Sorrow

Dolore                                                                                                          a lamentation in verso libero

No songs overheard 

nor rustling of life

Tones of colour whirled down and away

So long are the days tinged in this grey

I do not know the face of pith 

nor poise

And in this breath 

I sigh

For seasons passed and life so lost

For wisdom and true body

For the 99 left to recover just one

Amare è la vita

But the melody echos on 

and on and on and on

Heedless hearts

No feast served

nor recompense of being

If only I knew the bright visage of grace

or salvation

So long is my day 

alone in the colours of grey

And in this breath 

I weep

For reckless masses

For reckless me

For stray sheep

The heart of clemency beats on

and on and on and on

Foolish souls

Grazia è amore

Yet I feel no rest

no comfort

no cure

The Age of UNreason...

The ability to reason is a cerebral faculty that, apparently, few choose to employ.  I propose that an even larger portion of us simply don't have the capacity to understand HOW to employ it, for the most part.  While the "we only use 10% of our brain" myth has been thoroughly debunked, I submit that a certain percentage of the world's population uses FAR less than this at any given interval in time.  For example, as I'm typing this my grammar skills escaped me.  I then iChatted one of my friends and asked her if it was "'world's population' or 'world's population?'" She gave me the right answer, to which I replied "I don't know why I can never remember that rule."  Her response was as follows, "Probably the same reason I mix up orange and green; visually I get it, but verbally I screw it up every time."  I don't even know what this means...but I immediately asked her permission to include our conversation into this blog.  I won't even bother inserting the cagey remark about how even (incredibly...ahem) intelligent people can slip up OCCASIONALLY (this rule I remember...there is no ASS in occasionally).  This paragraph is simply a disclaimer of sorts...I'm giving myself and us all permission (if I am allowed to grant that, of course) to be complete and utter morons and not have to feel any real sense of guilt or shame from it.  I rarely, if ever do, but sometimes others just need that nudge, that little love pat on the back of the head that makes you spew a little and let out an "umph!"  

There is a season for reason and clearly that season has came and went...at least in my own life.  Currently I am awaiting divorce proceedings to surcease and for my life to return to a stage of "normalcy," whatever THAT [ever] meant.  There is no reasoning behind what is happening in my life at the moment.  There has never been a rhyme scheme in my life that resonated any sense of the word "normal."  My life has been one failed attempt at cheerleading (in the 5th grade) after another.  Like in the 6th grade how I was one of the 3 or so penguins from Mary Poppins because, allegedly, I was too obtuse to get a role that had more than 4 words that actually formed a complete and coherent sentence.  This has been a consistent theme in my life; one which I have embraced and learned to laugh at.  I say if you can't laugh at your own expense....then it makes you a little selfish when you inevitably laugh at others (only a little though).  

The ability to reason is a survival tool;  one that we, over the many many generations of human beings that have transcended through however many epochs, have honed into a finely tuned wreckage of what should have been a gift.  For example, my friend Kristin reminded me this evening of THIS half-baked invention:  The Atom Smasher (or Particle Accelerator to be more pc).  The following excerpt has been taken DIRECTLY from Wikipedia (copy & paste) and I will now make no attempt whatsoever at citing any sources or doing the legally right "thing:"  

In the future, the possibility of black hole (BH) production at the highest energy accelerators may arise if certain predictions of superstring theory are accurate.^[14][15] This and other exotic possibilities have led to public safety concerns that have been widely reported in connection with the LHC, which began operation in 2008. The various possible dangerous scenarios have been assessed as presenting "no conceivable danger" in the latest risk assessment produced by the LHC Safety Assessment Group.^[16].

"Excuse me sir, what was the part again about public safety concern!?  Oh yes, yes...pardon me I understand now.  So you're telling me.....you've created a device that will essentially obliterate the world into a Trekkie's wet dream?  Ok...just confirming the details...continue."

WTH!?  When did it become ok, I mean...ok...apart from the atomic bombs, to create a device that will (as it says this LHC Safety Assessment...snooooooore...Group has concluded  there is "no 'conceivable' danger,") at best,  turn the world into one of those old Zenith Tv blips (you know...the little light fleck that is the result of turning the appliance into "off" mode...)!?  There needs to be a committee that will form a group to regulate these geniuses.  Ladies and Gentlemen I am proud to introduce to you the newly formed, and touring stateside, group named:  "The LHC Safety Assessment Group Regulators Who Are Employed And Implored To Skillfully Yet Tactfully Remove Each Dingbat That Is A Part Of Or Assisted In The Creation Of The LHC Safety Assessment Group By Way Of Sniping,"  Or more commonly known as "TLSAGRWAEAITSYTREDTIAPOOAITCOTLSAGBWOS." (Try to find some way to make that audible).  It's going to catch on fast...I can feel it in my bones.  

Reason does not equal rational.  In fact, in very few cases have I found it to, like the aforementioned example, for example.  This quazi-imbecilic reality is made more and more clear to me with interactions of the opposite sex.  Our basic biological make up tells us that we need to propagate.  Our basic spiritual make up tells us that we need to love.  Well, right off the bat these are feuding concepts.  To love one must attach, and to propagate (properly) one must be detached.  So in essence we are a creation of chaos in and of itself.  Reason will not tame this, not always.  Balance.  Balance is the secret to life.  Newton's Law of Reciprocal Actions explains this best to me.  However, for others it may be a duck and a witch...I'm not sure...I'm not a doctor.  Balance.  Balance can only be achieved in one's life (there's that rule again...does that life belong to 'one?') when one truly realizes that they are actually a part of an equation as well; that their LIFE, and every detail that may involve, is simply a scaled down version of a greater source.  As cells are to the body, so are we to the greater balance.  Without knowing our place in this world, our purpose, we will not achieve balance.  HOWEVER, what we will do is endeavor to find all of the answers, confuse ourselves more, hurt ourselves tremendously, and inevitably become nothing more than an example for the younger generations...and then die.  This is my greatest hope.  Well I say this because I've endeavored a great many things and yet, here I am going through a divorce and other trials and tribulations which I find equally as pleasant.  All the while I'm asking myself why, when I know it is because I have no balance.  And yet, I reason with myself that there is more to come...more for me to figure out and more to be explained/revealed to me, knowing full well that the answers are right in front of me...and Occam's Razor would be best be applied now.  But reason does not equal rational then does it?

So here we've discussed spirituality, humor, physics, biology, etc. etc. etc....which I believe will all fall somewhere into the four basic food groups.  These are all basic concepts that have been translated into bigger words for the sake of feeding my ego.  But it gave me an outlet to write and on some level I feel superior to others for whatever reason in writing this now (this is actually my main goal in life).  

A few parting thoughts:

The chicken never actually crossed the road, and if in fact it did undertake this feat it has long since become road kill.  There is no rational reason why it would or could make it to the other side.  

Only in Raelianism did the chicken come before the egg.  

Eggs are meant to be shaken not stirred.

Shaken Baby Syndrome is the result of too much bass in too small of a car (or other environmentishy type places).  

"Going green" is like speeding to get somewhere faster...you can shave off a few seconds of your time but ultimately it's not going to make that big of an impact.  Exempli Gratia:  

To travel 5 miles: 

At 70 mph takes 4 minutes, 17 seconds. Savings over 60 mph = 43 seconds. 

At 60 mph takes 5 minutes. Savings over 55 mph = 27 seconds. 

At 55 mph takes 5 minutes, 27 seconds. 

So, as you can see...that $8 to $100k (depending on the size of your home and how cheap you are) that you spent on those solar panels...only shaved 27 seconds off your trip to hell.  Way to go.  

My final thought...if you read this you're officially retarded.  And if you actually read it all the way to this last bit...then I'm officially retarded for continuing to write knowing that you're still going to read it and I'm filling your head with useless information and a sense of overall self loathing which will inevitably lead to some form of self-deprecation.  

I hate the world tonight and it hates me.  My 3D rule applies now:  Death, Dying, Destruction.  The end.  

Love love.