Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Pit of my stomach
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Where did it become putrid
I enjoyed this job, had hopes for this job. I have no idea where it went wrong or why I hate it. The people are great, the policies are fucked. I can't keep up and the catch phrase is "I promise it gets better." Bullshit I say, one grows numb but it doesn't get better. I sit down to focus and am interrupted with important stuff, other peoples important stuff. I can't get caught up, and I'm beyond caring about it yet I stress over it everyday. I will die young if I keep this job. I know I will. Heart attack or stroke brought on by stress. High blood pressure causing death. Something along those lines. You can quote me.
But where do I go? I feel incompetent here and under qualified elsewhere, every where. We want to have a baby and I want my wife to be as comfortable as possible and stress free so I refuse to quit. I want a baby, I want said child to have a great life, therefore I won't quit. Maybe it will get better. Maybe it won't.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Random things
Can your mind act as a lone entity within the confines of yourself? Do you contemplate and become fixated on one thing, idea, subject etc. so long that it becomes unanswerable or do you just lose site of the tree for the forest? Can you become so fixated on it that the outcome really doesn't matter or do you become jaded to the idea that the answer isn't the one you want, no matter how true it is, that you keep searching for something until you realize the answer you want isn't the answer to that question.
Yes, this is my thought process most of the day. I don't like living in my head yet I refuse to become medicated an completely turn it off. If you allow that to happen you are no longer you, you become them, whoever they might be. Makes sense right. Bah.
Maybe some people are meant to be unhappy in certain aspects of life while being elated at other aspects. My home life and family life is more than I could have ever hoped for, yet "what I want to be" is a fickle bitch of a question. I can't get it figured out. Is it a question that can be answered? Doubtful.
Dreams are of the stars and they don't descend to this level of existence, so we must rise up to meet them correct? I'm not so sure. Every person doesn't deserve a trophy. But finding myself contemplating these questions makes me a wreck but I cannot just flip a switch and shut it off. So the venture continues and I remind myself of the good things, of the ground under my feet, of the questions answered. It keeps me happy and she makes me happy. Thus these are the Ravings of Deaver. Pointless and fruitless it seems. It helps me empty the garbage of my mind and opens more space to fill with unanswerable questions and random phrases and thoughts in my mind.
If dreams come true what shape do the take?
