it must have been around 1:15 am.  i was sleeping beside my wife.  suddenly, i heard her scream.  it wasn't at all a movie type scream.  it actually sounded quite operatic, as though "the fat lady" (no implications intended at all!  really.) were trying to hold a note at the end of the opera.  and it sounded as though while she held that note, she were falling from some high, far-off place.  her voice started off soft and distant, and rapidly increased in volume, cutting off at the loudest, most fear-ridden point, and ending with an impact that brought the both of us to a disturbed wakefulness.

i held my wife as she whimpered, cried.  "what happened," i murmured...

***

in the silence that ensued, i had my own dark thoughts.  my own selfish thoughts.  something about how people talk about understanding, but when it really comes right down to it, understanding is usually the last thing that people practice when they encounter others.  people run on their own intuitions, which may or may not be correct, but which inevitably-

i like to think that understanding sometimes is a leap of faith.  it is a belief that somewhere deep inside, someone is there, and that someone is a good person, worthy of respect.  there is a whole lot in the way of that, unfortunately.  a whole lot...

in my musings, i thought of one gregarious and sociable person.  in an imaginary conversation, in which she actually would deign to speak to me, she said, in the most honest way, "you know, i meet with so many people in my line of work.  and it's only when i interact with you, that, well, something is wrong."

and of course, there are the rumblings within me, the objections...  they rise briefly, but like an ingrown hair, their direction inevitably turns back in upon their source, digging into me...  "you're right, of course," finally, a defeated confession comes out.  and once again, i walk away, consigned into the darkness...

***

what i fear most is the Sleep.  it is the Sleep which takes my words, the promises of love and everything good i hope to be, or ever was, and it smothers all of these things with its dead, lidded eyes.  it drags its heavy, clinging fingers over me, and turns me into it, so that all of these good intentions are defeated, not in the waking light of day, not in the battlefield of the present, but always before.  and the eyes of the world, the eyes of the ancestors, the eyes of god, they all only see what is revealed.  they cannot see the demon of Sleep dragging me under...

i have been sleeping a lot lately.  not sure why.  i don't feel particularly depressed, or rather, i am not conscious of feeling particularly sad or down.  but physically, i just feel a sort of exhaustion that simply doesn't go away.  after i come home from work, i sort of drift in and out of consciousness for the first few hours until dinner, and not long after that meal, i commit myself to oblivion...  no dreams in particular rise with me, but an occasional restlessness pursues me into waking... though not with the urgency to combat the lethargy, which inevitably pulls me back again...

i've tried to spin it into a positive.  something about listening to the 10 ton bear inside of me.  i do think that i have something like a 10 ton bear within me.  it's big and heavy.  not particularly mean.  but given its size, and strength, well, when it really wants something, it gets what it wants.  most of the time, i live my life in a kind of fiction of groundless ambition, trying to do the impossible.  the bear reminds me, on occasion, that it needs respect too, and fuck the stupid dreams and projects...  there's something liberating, ironically, about having that bear sit on my chest, and force me to hibernate with it...  something akin to discovering, and being one with, the lapping of the sea.

well, speak of the devil.  the bear, the ocean, the drowning sleep, she calls.  good night losers.

hi everyone.

i've been trying to live my life with more integrity...  doing stuff that i'm supposed to.  doing things that are in alignment with what i feel are important things...  reading, writing.  stuff like that.

i've been trying to think about what makes a good story.  what is interesting in a story that interests me? i dabbled into "the girl with the dragon tattoo" today, and i also watched the pilot episode of "breaking bad."  both have elements that i consider essential to a good story.  for instance, one thing i actually enjoy reading are the habits of mind of individuals, their modus operandi, particularly when we get to see them "at work" on a project.  at least, that's what i think i enjoyed when reading "the girl with the dragon tattoo."  i suppose what i enjoyed were the description of blomkvist's (one of the main characters in "the girl with the dragon tattoo") settling in on the island, and how he eased into his task of solving the mystery.  it represents, to me, the same task of a writer: an immersion in a story, and the sifting through of material to find some kernel of truth which can then serve as a seed crystal for the creation of something- interesting...

with regards to "breaking bad," i suppose a big draw is the depiction of compelling characters with clear, simple motivations.  even motivations that take on unexpected directions...

***

i also watched the latest miyazaki film, "from on poppy hill," or something to that effect.  the animation was not as smooth or as convincing as some of the other high production features from studio ghibli, and quite frankly, i think the intended audience was japanese nationals, because it tended to have a sort of preachy nationalistic theme to it (the preservation of a latin quarter building represented a return to the old [i.e. traditional] japanese culture), but all in all, it was a good film.  love, in the face of a mix up of genealogy...

***

well, that's it for now.

periodically, i need a new beginning.  so that's what this is- with the understanding that there's no such thing as a new beginning, and that the creditors will still be able to find your new address- eventually.

i am trying to stay on top of things in my life (as i have always been).  i'm resolving to read more, write more, draw more, master taijiquan, master teaching, master parenting, etc. etc. etc. (as i have always been).  so one might ask, what else is new?

... to which i have no response.

***

i think i have a pretty peaceful energy about me.  most of the time.  i appreciate that, when observers come to my room, they often comment on how peaceful it is.  or that one of the former skills trainers that used to work in my room periodically returns with her new student in order to have him use the clavinova.  and how she mentions that my voice is kind, and that the new student likes it (whether he actually does or not is subject to speculation).

there are things about oneself that require confirmation at times.  even if (or perhaps especially if) they aren't necessarily true.

within myself, i find that there is near constant turmoil.  as i get older, it is primarily a battle between my own inherent inertia, and a restless ambition.  and in the midst of the conflict is a kind of indecisive dissolution, pandered away by "easy projects" like playing diablo 3 or losing braincells on facebook.

i'm only getting older, i'm forgetting who i am day by day...

i at present don't feel or don't care so much about all the hatred around me.  i have my projects and dreams, and, when i'm able to pursue them truly, they are my armor and my shield.

***

well, hate to overstay my welcome.  i'll try to write regularly.  take care.