I don’t usually like to use the word ‘whatever’. It’s a word used as an easy out to an argument… one you can’t win because you know you’re wrong, one you’re in with a person, place or thing that is beyond stubborn or one which you just want to end and are willing to concede to stop the bleeding. Yes, I realize that was not only a run on sentence in the historical sense, but also a run over sentence.
Whatever is a good word, but one that is used in a somewhat bad way… It’s a compound word made up of ‘what’ and ‘ever’. If you were to literally translate it, it means… whatever.
So what do you do? What does Bob do?
Sometimes I just don’t care. Beating up on something over and over until I win just to say I won is not me. My short attention span prevents me really. Not that I’m blaming that, mind you… I generally can’t be bothered. If you want to win so bad, go on with you bad self… to that, I say, “whatever, dude…”
That’s right, I said it. Whatever…
(At this point, you need to picture me throwing my hands up, looking you in the eye, then quickly turning around to walk away… with my tail irritatingly, yet playfully twitching.)
What does “losing all meaning” actually mean? I mean, (heh) If the meaning is gone, that supposes that it was there at one point. Are the hard drives in our heads and hearts so fickle that they would erase something that important moments before we need it? Does meaning, or lack of meaning, just crash our systems? Seriously… this squirrel needs to know. I like to know almost everything I can… it’s better to know something and not need it than it is to need it and not know it. Do I need to know how to tie a Carrick Bend? In the day to day of a talking squirrel’s life, probably safe to assume not. But, as Frank’s mother always likes to say: “You never know.” Know it now, be MacGyver later.
Meaning is found, or rather, re-interpreted, by the constant gathering of information. If you lose a meaning…make another one up. If you’re wrong, how will you really even know?
But what do I know… I’m just a wannabe knot tying squirrel.
Standing up for yourself is just another one of those parts of life you learn as you go. No one really tells you about it until you’re forced to perform. Sometimes all it will take is a spoonful of sugar. Then, there are times when it will take a supersonic bulldozer with spikes and lasers. I don’t think that’s an over expression either.
Is someday today? Is it? I always tell myself that whatever big thing I need or want or need to do will get done someday. As the illustration so eloquently illustrates, I never seem to get to that someday. Whenever I get close to someday, it moves, it hides, it makes like a tree and leaves…that’s what somedays do.
Why are we even here if the things we want or need to do are always penciled in for someday? What are we waiting for? Why do we put things off? Out of fear? Fear of not being able to do something? Fear of getting it all wrong? Fear of not getting another chance to make whatever wrong, right? Fear of fear? Complacency? Laziness? What the freaking freak is our problem? Is it because there’s no meaning to anything? That, in the end, or even in the middle, what’s the point of continuing when it’s all going to end up sinking into the earth like thousands of civilizations have before this one?
If you find the point of it all, I suppose you’ll find someday. If you can’t find that point, someday is still going to be out on the loose. It’s as simple as that.
I am an optical intrusion. I carry the illusion that I am more than what you see. I cannot be one dimensional… because if I were, I’d be nothing more than a line. I live because you have seen fit to give me that life. I sometimes entertain the notion that I somehow earned that life… but I think I took more than I earned. It’s not a notion that I entertain often…
If I didn’t post anything, would I be alive?
If I posted stuff that no one ever read, would I still be alive?
If you read what I posted, and then you forgot it all… would I be alive?
If you read what I posted, forgot it all, then stumbled onto it again, would that mean I was just hibernating in your brain or would it mean that I was born? Or re-born?
The cheerios I ate this morning obviously were filled with self-doubt…why else would they have a hole in them? I think a bit of nothing illusion hit me right in the tail… hence this squirrel dive into existentialism. No wonder you hardly ever see an existentialist smile. Although, I’m not sure if their mode of thought, being human oriented, could accurately be applied to me. Maybe I’ll start a new one…to add to the squirrelosophy pantheon: squirrelstentialism.
What do you think? Do any of us think? Is it all an illusion?
Beautiful. If something is beautiful, it attracts you. It gets your attention by the very nature of its existence. IT can make you do things that no normal squirrel will do. It can make you forget what’s important in your life and yet can also remind you and strengthen that very importance. It’s everything and nothing.
The thing is, you have to swim through a lot of chunky gravy to get to the meat.
I won’t get into the whole inner/outer beauty debate today… there’s too much involved, along with a possible dissection… I just don’t literally have it in me today. It’s fairly simple. There is a lot of ugly out there. Ugly probably out points beautiful by a 5 to 1 margin…maybe more. Beauty is rare. Ugly is common. Beauty takes time to grow… ugly is there right off the box, right off the rack. There is no gluing and painting involved with ugly. Beauty develops over time, is nurtured and babied.
For either of them, it all comes down to this: You know it when you see it.
I’m going to spend the rest of the day trying to be less ugly. Hopefully I can find someone out there willing to be an ugly judge.
I’m not one for optimism…negative optimism maybe. It’s a fact. Lower expectations make you happier in the long run. Being comfortable never made anyone better at what they do. Having to constantly sit on the edge of your seat, paranoid of what might hit you… now that’s how it’s done. No one got better by being comfortable. That being said, it’s not the best way to spend your days. I’m probably more paranoid then not. I wake up paranoid, I eat paranoid, watch television paranoid, I even write blogs paranoid. Honestly, I think I must enjoy paranoia…why else would I always be that way?
I would like to be comfortable. But I don’t think I’d like to be too comfortable… that would make me soft. Granted, if I were any more softer than I am I’d probably be a liquid.
Negative is negative, but in a somewhat positive way. This is the way I live. I’m a little paranoid of what you must think of me. But that’s good. It keeps me on my furry toes trying to get through to everyone about the positive spin that a bit of negative squirrelosophy can bring to your daily lives. It’s a funky dream for sure… but it’s mine all mine.