Insidious Adaptation

The re-release of Mario Kart for cell phones, proves that 2018 is the year for change. Finally, after all these years, all the changes for "good," along with all the broken promises and heartache, we have achieved the pinnacle of coming together. Yes we can. Yes we did. And yes, America is great Again! All of this knowing full well that Mario Kart is a Nintendo game and thus Japanese technology supported. But who cares right, this is America, we can claim it if we want. After all, I bet that we had some Americans on the team, or at least supporting the project. We probably had some person telling the team to make Peach sexier, make Toad gay, and make Luigi actually Louise, therefore all political correctness can be displayed and therefore avoidance of any potential lawsuit having Nintendo paying millions for, "the next big scandal." Maybe Bowser could be Indian, Yoshi could be black, and Mario himself, the star of the show, could be a Jewish plumber. There we ...

No, not in a sleigh or while celebrating anything, but simply laughing, and being merry all year round. It’s as a cliché as it gets, but you can really identify and live in the merriment throughout life, not just at the holidays. This does not make you better, but it allows things to be better, because there is a reason to do good work, outside of self when the environment is positive and supportive. By choosing to see the, "bad" or "negative," suppressing merriment, then it can be difficult to perform outside of self. Hostility promotes competition and survival is all that can be achieved. Survival at work, survival in relationships, social survival, survival of environment, being a part of, or choosing to see hostility therefore has no room for merriment, not to mention any organic laughter.  What can be the most difficult part of hostility is not merely the negativity, but as previously mentioned, the threat of it all. The idea that a person is unsafe, thus ...

The neurons are taking a break today. Whether it be the catch or the release in the synapse, or maybe even further down in the manufacturing department, there is a lack of something. I would say too much, however, I am familiar with this feeling. I am more insightful than to assume this is anything new, anything I am unfamiliar with, anything that I don’t already take medications for due to my apparent lack thereof. Even in this familiarity, there is a sense of nostalgia for a life I may have had without it, without this.  The feeling cannot be explained, or even fully understood, is all it can be is acknowledged and appreciated to some degree. Yes, I did mean appreciated. Appreciation for the “good” and the “bad” feelings, is really all I have left to do here, the only thing that matters, and the only thing worth wasting my time on. I could moan and groan, say poor me, or try to cover with caffeine or other things, but yet, underneath it all, it's still me. I am not defined b...

The pile is growing now, reminders of a food no longer stimulating enough to satisfy, more so a reflection of my indulgent self, alive and well. As time goes, decisions are made, and I inevitably become leaner in the process, I notice it. I feel the tinge of desire, one only processed foods seems to fill, one I cannot satisfy doing what I am doing now. That, right there, this pile of empty sweetener packets reminds me, if I allow it to set in, that I am not doing so well.  It’s a subtle thing really, to look at behaviors with minor internal consequences, easily overlooked as, "not that bad." It’s hard to take a look at behaviors, so easily justified, and hold myself to this stringent standard because I do know better. I took the blue pill after all, I followed the rabbit hole down as far as I could, I had to look at the Lost Arc, only to have my mind changed, forever. Ignorance is no longer a friend of mine. At one time, he was a friend, a best friend in fact, authen...

A slip of the phone, a smack on the ground, a prayer sent out, I hope it isn't broken. "Gosh Dangit!" Said without thought, a learned replacement and months of practice to prevent the ears of a 2-year-old from experiencing further, more harsh reactions. "Goshdangit" She repeats me, reinforcing my efforts. In these moments, I cannot help but be a little proud of myself for my child's response, or at the least, her recognition of mine. I slip into nostalgia of past days when a curse word flew off my tongue like specks of dust swirling about as an untouched piece of furniture is moved. The words, for they were fun to say, the F***, the S***s, others almost embarrassing to admit to, all dangling in a toolbox of "sentence enhancers," awaiting my use. That was then, before a child, before hearing myself through the ears of another for the excessive quantity was juvenile. I now WANT to use goofy words to curse a random dropping of a phone or hitti...

It’s 11AM, the day after moving. The day after I broke routine, ate various protein bars, drank way too much caffeine, consumed no vegetables, no fish, and I fear, not enough water. After all, it was a long day from 3:30AM, for I like to write, until 10PM, most of which was spent very active. At the end, to celebrate the end of moving festivities, pizza! That’s right, carb-rich, greasy, fat-laden, thyroid stimulating, za. A favorite fast food in this household, for it is fast and it is technically food, a perfect cap to an imperfect day. A way to resign the mind into a binge of sorts and into a relaxation as I convince myself, “I deserve this.” The pizza, the energy drinks, the lack of this or that, or the too much of something led to a 16-hour fast to help the system get a break from the strain of poor choices. This was hour 15. I was starving. I came around the corner of the kitchen, catching a glance of the oven timer. It was behind a few minutes, not a huge deal, however whe...

Pain is a necessary component to life, demanding attention, altering our wills, found in various forms, grabbing each one of us where we needed it the most. Physical pain may have been enough to get us to stop one behavior, yet, others need mental anguish to grasp theirs, forcing a deeper look into self. Other's live in pain like a badge of some sort, a low sense of self, unworthy of peace.  What I am proposing here is not merely another avoidance of pain, but an acceptance of it. Accepting that pain, in this life, is natural, and should be expected. Pain is not the opposite of pleasure, but another “offshoot” of the human condition. A contingency to our, “best laid plans," and more fascinating than pleasure. Pleasure is too obvious, too abrasive and brash, supposedly “enhancing” our situation and distracting our wills. Feeling good is as temporary as feeling bad, though we minimize both outside of the moment. In a moment of pain we feel there is no worse, in the moment o...