5.29.2007
"Could I be read if I was see-through, or would you just see my spine?"
With each day that passes it becomes even more painfully obvious to me that I see the world around me very differently than almost everyone else I know. I’m practically in a different dimension. I like to think this is a good thing, but more and more it becomes my burden to deal with— and I wouldn’t wish it upon anybody else.
My world deals almost solely in feelings. Emotion. Sentiments and sensation. The universe is only existent to the extent that people perceive it, so our world is dependent on human beings. Humans are only existent to the extent of our own perception as well. If I ask you how you’re doing, you’ll respond with how you perceive yourself at that moment. Good, bad. Logic helps us out, but the only way we know anything about ourselves is through the feelings that make us who we are.
So the Earth is full of people, but more than that it’s full of emotions—the emotions of the people living here. How can anything be more important than how people feel? If the Earth is comprised of a bunch of people bouncing off of each other acting on their thoughts and feelings, then why aren’t people doing everything in their power to make themselves and everyone around them as happy as possible? Everyone is more responsible for their own happiness than anyone else’s, but if you had the power to make someone else’s life just a little bit happier, wouldn’t you?
In the world I see, strangers that you might never think twice about have entire intricate lives, and the second I see the suffering of innocent people, I emote heavily and empathize with extreme intensity. In most cases these episodes of intense empathy are for people I don’t know and never will know, but the existence of their suffering hangs heavy on my soul, like thick sheets of ice in an early autumn ice storm. Sometimes the brittle branches of my psyche can barely take it.
The only cardinal sin in my world is hurting someone, causing them to feel bad mentally or physically. This sounds just fine, but eventually you run into problems when people have overlapping feelings and it’s literally impossible for the two to be happy at the same time. But these things happen, it’s downright idiotic to think it’s possible for anyone to never have to feel pain in their life. These circumstances are unfortunate but sometimes unavoidable.
However the truly catastrophic times to me are when people hurt others intentionally. I am literally unable to comprehend the kind of personality that must hurt other people to be happy, but I see it almost every day… and it scares the shit out of me. How am I supposed to live, how am I supposed to compete in this world where you can plausibly get ahead by backstabbing other people? I have no intentions of ever hurting anyone I meet… and the irony here (there’ve been a lot of ironies lately) is that I’ll likely end up hurting myself in the process.
So the next time you see me doubled over in pain, look around me. I’m probably not reacting to something that happened to me, but rather I probably overheard some stranger on their phone just learn that they’ve lost a loved one, their parents will divorce, or their boyfriend/girlfriend doesn’t love them anymore. Go attend to them instead. I’m in the process of learning where these feelings come from, and why I was wired this way. All I ask is that you be patient with me, I’m carrying a little extra here. I know I can’t be the only one who’s like this (though I typically try to hide these feelings from the world—I can’t believe I’m coming clean right now), if you know anyone else who seems to be carrying a little extra load with them I implore you: give them a hug, a hand shake, a kind word. Chances are they really need it right now.
5.22.2007
"One way or another, one way or another..."
Sounds of chimes lightly suggesting their tones onto the soft wind, cool grass in the diffused morning sun, sweet smells of spring flowers offering their buds to their Earth: these were not the things the Heart experienced as he sat and contemplated early in one morning. He was in a small hot room with a handful of middle-aged people running a video conference call. The call went through, the conference was under way, and with one eye on the monitor, the Heart sat in meditation.
Almost as a cruel joke, the Venetian blinds were pulled all but closed over the broad window in the room. The Heart looked at the tangle of branches and leaves blowing in-between the slats of the blinds, and let his brain fill in the data absent from his perception. He could practically see the whole picture of the branches heaving to and fro and its leaves flowing in tune with each other. Then he attempted to stop completing the pattern and see the window for what it was-- tan slats of plastic on top of thin strips of luscious green motion. Who's to say whether or not the leaves hidden by the blinds truly existed? The Heart couldn't prove it; out of sight, out of mind. Maybe we're more adept visualizers before we learn the concept of object permanence. Perhaps the leaves were only real when they were visible through the slats.
The Heart then decided that it’s totally unimportant if someone sings the wrong lyrics to popular songs, as long as they're singing from the heart. "Jo-jo was a man who thought we was a woman, but he was another man!" Who cares what other people think? Fuck 'em all. Fuck 'em.
The conference eventually came to a close and the Heart dutifully put away his equipment and wrapped his cables, all the while assuring the Board of Regents that it was actually very interesting for him to listen to them blather on about god-knows-what for two hours. The people filed out of the room, continuing their discussion, and left the Heart alone for a few minutes. He slowly walked toward the window and pulled the blinds wide open. The leaves were there, all of them. If somehow they had disappeared when the Heart stopped perceiving them, they were certainly back now, and greener than ever. Beautiful.
The Heart carried his equipment out to the van and prayed so hard that the beautiful tree and all of its leaves would still exist even after he had left the building entirely. He couldn’t take the thought that the true simple beauty he had experienced would just cease to be. That had to be the ultimate tragedy. Later, the Heart listened to U2 and sang along as loud as he could, “It's all right, it's all right, it's all right / Shamu, the mysterious whale!”
Almost as a cruel joke, the Venetian blinds were pulled all but closed over the broad window in the room. The Heart looked at the tangle of branches and leaves blowing in-between the slats of the blinds, and let his brain fill in the data absent from his perception. He could practically see the whole picture of the branches heaving to and fro and its leaves flowing in tune with each other. Then he attempted to stop completing the pattern and see the window for what it was-- tan slats of plastic on top of thin strips of luscious green motion. Who's to say whether or not the leaves hidden by the blinds truly existed? The Heart couldn't prove it; out of sight, out of mind. Maybe we're more adept visualizers before we learn the concept of object permanence. Perhaps the leaves were only real when they were visible through the slats.
The Heart then decided that it’s totally unimportant if someone sings the wrong lyrics to popular songs, as long as they're singing from the heart. "Jo-jo was a man who thought we was a woman, but he was another man!" Who cares what other people think? Fuck 'em all. Fuck 'em.
The conference eventually came to a close and the Heart dutifully put away his equipment and wrapped his cables, all the while assuring the Board of Regents that it was actually very interesting for him to listen to them blather on about god-knows-what for two hours. The people filed out of the room, continuing their discussion, and left the Heart alone for a few minutes. He slowly walked toward the window and pulled the blinds wide open. The leaves were there, all of them. If somehow they had disappeared when the Heart stopped perceiving them, they were certainly back now, and greener than ever. Beautiful.
The Heart carried his equipment out to the van and prayed so hard that the beautiful tree and all of its leaves would still exist even after he had left the building entirely. He couldn’t take the thought that the true simple beauty he had experienced would just cease to be. That had to be the ultimate tragedy. Later, the Heart listened to U2 and sang along as loud as he could, “It's all right, it's all right, it's all right / Shamu, the mysterious whale!”
5.11.2007
"When You've Seen Beyond Yourself"
On a beautiful cloudless day, The Heart, hands in pockets, walks apace to the music ringing in his ears. His head bobbed up and down to the beat, though he was sure this spectacle must have been an odd sight for any passerby. He almost always walked in time to his music, but rarely ever permitted himself to get a good head-bang going in public.
He feels the hot sun on his dark hair, and it doesn’t seem to bother him. The Heart is fully aware of the beauty all around him without even taking his eyes off his feet. The music spills out of his head and soars sparkling on the breeze, within and without the trees lining the sidewalk, pulsing through the leaves. It pours like thick waves upon ground before him, cushioning every step of his walk.
“Turn off all thoughts, surrender to the void.” The Heart gains momentum as the song does the same, picking up speed towards his unknown destination. He enjoys every step of the way; the path is laid out just for him with the trees and the grass moving in time with his music. He sheepishly reaches a finger or two out to touch the colorful swell of liquid music on the air before him—it feels as good as it sounds. It’s tactile, cool to the touch, silk.
He now has both hands boldly out in front of him, participating fully in the moment. One song ends and flows right into the next; the colors change, the wind continues to dance. The Heart closes his eyes to achieve total mindfulness. The music gallops forward and his pace quickens, his whole body is moving, his eyes are closed.
SMACK! Everything stops. The music continues, but The Heart is no longer at one with it. He slowly opens his eyes to see what happened. A tree stands defiantly in front of him and in his own carelessness, he had walked straight into it. In his attempt to be fully present in the moment, he had accidentally taken himself out of it.
He brushes himself off and continues on his way, letting go of any aggravation over the unplanned pit stop. The irony was not lost on The Heart that he had lost his way within his very attempt at being present in the moment. He was always pretty good at missing the point of things—but The Heart knew that after this minor discomfort he could just keep going. It wouldn’t be too hard to get back into his groove, as long as he kept going. It is still a beautiful cloudless day. The Heart keeps going, hands in pockets, walking apace to his music. Smiling.
He feels the hot sun on his dark hair, and it doesn’t seem to bother him. The Heart is fully aware of the beauty all around him without even taking his eyes off his feet. The music spills out of his head and soars sparkling on the breeze, within and without the trees lining the sidewalk, pulsing through the leaves. It pours like thick waves upon ground before him, cushioning every step of his walk.
“Turn off all thoughts, surrender to the void.” The Heart gains momentum as the song does the same, picking up speed towards his unknown destination. He enjoys every step of the way; the path is laid out just for him with the trees and the grass moving in time with his music. He sheepishly reaches a finger or two out to touch the colorful swell of liquid music on the air before him—it feels as good as it sounds. It’s tactile, cool to the touch, silk.
He now has both hands boldly out in front of him, participating fully in the moment. One song ends and flows right into the next; the colors change, the wind continues to dance. The Heart closes his eyes to achieve total mindfulness. The music gallops forward and his pace quickens, his whole body is moving, his eyes are closed.
SMACK! Everything stops. The music continues, but The Heart is no longer at one with it. He slowly opens his eyes to see what happened. A tree stands defiantly in front of him and in his own carelessness, he had walked straight into it. In his attempt to be fully present in the moment, he had accidentally taken himself out of it.
He brushes himself off and continues on his way, letting go of any aggravation over the unplanned pit stop. The irony was not lost on The Heart that he had lost his way within his very attempt at being present in the moment. He was always pretty good at missing the point of things—but The Heart knew that after this minor discomfort he could just keep going. It wouldn’t be too hard to get back into his groove, as long as he kept going. It is still a beautiful cloudless day. The Heart keeps going, hands in pockets, walking apace to his music. Smiling.
5.09.2007
No more FIlm journals 5/9/07
Well, for the past couple of months I've been writing my film journals on scraps of paper, notebooks, cocktail napkins, et al. I couldn't tell you exactly why I was unable to go ahead an just type the damn things in here for you, my dear readers, but today Prof. Jacobson let us off the hook with these things anyway.
So I am left to continue this thing, no longer for a grade, at my leisure-- now that I'm not being forced to do one every day, human nature being what it is, I'll have more motivation to actually write (go figure). I don't intend to actually type in the past ones that I scrawled down, unless maybe I go through them and find a particularly interesting one. It's mostly describing my process of working on my project The National Anthem.
So instead of boring you with all of that, I'll just show you the first cut of the piece. I have a few changes planned, I'll change this out with the final cut once I get it on YouTube. In the mean time, here's The National Anthem:
Basically, I wanted to make a statement about how the media had an incredible opportunity to unify us as a nation and keep us genuinely informed about a horrendously tragic event as it was unfolding-- but they totally dropped the ball. Then every day since 9/11/2001, we Americans have been hot in the face with 9/11 by talking heads and politicians humping the catastrophe for their own personal gains. I mean no disrespect to anyone who lost family in the event and hope viewers will agree that despite my lampooning of the media in this piece, I treated the event with respect so as to show sensitivity the the loss suffered by the whole country on that most cataclysmic day.
SO thank you all who have actually come back to check for updates after all these days. Now that I'm not required to keep this thing up, I actually have the desire to try. :)
So I am left to continue this thing, no longer for a grade, at my leisure-- now that I'm not being forced to do one every day, human nature being what it is, I'll have more motivation to actually write (go figure). I don't intend to actually type in the past ones that I scrawled down, unless maybe I go through them and find a particularly interesting one. It's mostly describing my process of working on my project The National Anthem.
So instead of boring you with all of that, I'll just show you the first cut of the piece. I have a few changes planned, I'll change this out with the final cut once I get it on YouTube. In the mean time, here's The National Anthem:
Basically, I wanted to make a statement about how the media had an incredible opportunity to unify us as a nation and keep us genuinely informed about a horrendously tragic event as it was unfolding-- but they totally dropped the ball. Then every day since 9/11/2001, we Americans have been hot in the face with 9/11 by talking heads and politicians humping the catastrophe for their own personal gains. I mean no disrespect to anyone who lost family in the event and hope viewers will agree that despite my lampooning of the media in this piece, I treated the event with respect so as to show sensitivity the the loss suffered by the whole country on that most cataclysmic day.
SO thank you all who have actually come back to check for updates after all these days. Now that I'm not required to keep this thing up, I actually have the desire to try. :)
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