The Alternative To This: Wilderness or Prison

The title may seem like a lousy copy of one's pursuit of a perfect life. Far from it. It is the pursuit of a bummer  to live a comfortable life. I had a thought the other day, when I was really fed up with everything about life and was terribly fatigued from doing too many things. How nice if I can just relax and not do anything. I mean to sustain myself I need to work. Even to be alive costs money where one would expect to live is a basic human right. Obviously in a capitalist world it is not. To eat, you need to pay. To sleep you need to pay...well if you want a roof over your head. So think of it like this, just to sit in your own home, you need to pay for every minute, be it the rent or the 30 year mortgage. And if that was not enough, there's the bills.

So I got to thinking, isn't there anywhere I can live to not have to care about any of these things? One thought that came to mind was like in Into The Wild, you go out into the wilderness and live off the land. But then I enjoy the company of people too (occasionally) so that is not really a viable option. And truth be told, I am never that much an adventurous person. I mean I don't think I can distinguish between a perfectly edible mushroom and one that would cause me to keel over and choke on my tongue in 30 seconds flat. Also, I have no idea to hunt for animal, skin them and eat them, nor do I know how to find suitable shelter in the wild, not can I fish. If I were in the movie Cast Away, it would have been a really short movie. It would be of a man landing on an island disoriented, walking around for several hours, getting hungry, walking aimlessly  to find something to eat, give up and then wrapping his arms around his legs and start rocking back and forth. After that I would just get faint from the heat, roll over, faint and die of dehydration. At the end of the day, the wilderness is just too much hard work.

Okay another thought is I could go to prison. This I believe has a few more pluses than the wilderness idea. Firstly, in prison you get served food and you get a bed to sleep in, free of charge! You can sit there doing nothing whole day and no one could care less! Secondly, you need to get caught to go to prison. So, simply go rob a bank or steal a huge was of cash from a rich person, they don't need that much money anyways. IF you don't get caught, then great! You're all the richer for failing at your actual objective of getting caught and getting sent to prison. It's a win-win situation. But then there is also the down side. In prison, the people are not likely to be your typical Tom , Dick and Harry. You are in prison after all, and there are there for a proper reason. Not like your lala-land reason of wanting to live a piss easy life. So from all the TV I have seen, prison may not be such a pleasant experience.

All in all, prison and the wilderness may not be such good ideas after all. I shall think of more alternatives to this great paradox of life (That I should work to live comfortably?!? Ridonkulous!!!) I shall get back to you on this matter. Making fairy tale arguments is a strenuous undertaking.

It is Friday

Hey, a post for the 2nd consecutive day. I really am doing this just to get me to spend about half an hour to an hour every day to actually write something of substantial length. At this point I am not even really concerned to write anything meaningful or deeply though provoking (well, actually perhaps all I have ever done was provoke my own thoughts and no one else's).

Well, first things first, today was a great days for research. So was Wednesday, I did get a lot of work done this week and if I carry on in this vein for the next week I should be in good stead for the conference to come.

Bought 3 books today, from the 3 for 2 offer. I got What the Dog Saw by Malcolm Caldwell, Catching the Wolf of Wall Street by Jordan Belfort and Commited by Elizabeth Gilbert. The reason I bought any books at all to be perfectly honest is to get Commited. I read about 20 pages a few weeks back when I was in Borders and quite liked it so I really had to finish it. I read the first Wolf of Wall Street book and it was good, so I decided to get that too. Malcolm Caldwell, I actually read his book so good time as any to branch out and read something new. Though I have several ongoing books now. Reading The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson, Tales of Love and Loss by Knut Hamsun (His stories are very unique), The Good Soldiers by David Finkel and How to Practice: The Way to a Meaningful Life by the Dalai Lama. I have so many lovely books I would love to read. Wish I had more time. But it was good that for the past week, I got a few solid hours of reading time a day, whilst still being productive with research and able to exercise about an hour before work. So the balance is good now, I do not feel fatigued every day like I used to. So I really should tone back on the tutoring next semester. On top of the Swedish lessons I'm doing Monday evenings. Hopefully by next year's end I can read, write and speak quite proper Swedish. And perhaps I can blog in Swedish too!

So as this intermission of seriousness end, I say to you, may the nonsense recommence.

Let the drivel commence

As this blog would attest to, I have been rather busy and have not been as forthcoming with the writing as I would like. This being pressed for time very much in the past month or so. Let this not be a prelude of this to come for I really do need to again ignite the flame for writing and write more every day.

Writing is like delicate but resilient plant. If one does not tend to it, it becomes frail and pitiful. And whence one looks at it after some time of neglect, it bears no semblance to what it formerly was. It has mutated beyond recognition. Not that it has changed to something ugly, just that the words are read that seem to be written by someone quite not myself. I do not recognize myself in the words. But to come up with new words for new stories, these do not come easily now that writing has ceased for such a long time. But here is where the resilience come into play, that when you force yourself to write again, words do come eventually. These words are not beautiful, they do not flow, it is like a river clogged by dust and debris for running dry too long. But as the small drops of water seep through the barrier, then comes a small drivel of water. Then sooner than you can say your granny has a fat ass, the barrier bursts and the blockage has been destroyed. Then the question you ask, what of my grandmother? Well, obviously if her ass was any larger it would have acted as a second barrier. But it was not of that magnitude yet, so were are all safe and the river runs free again.

Here is a story.

In times to come, my never ending search for I don't know what will continue, and I shall present said drivel to a bunch of drivel enthusiasts in 2 weeks time. And they shall probably ask,"What is this person driveling on about?" Then I with all conviction shall reply,"If you do not know, why are you here?" To which a reply,"To listen to new knowledge of course." To which I retort,"And since my drivel is not understood, is that not new knowledge?" which beckons a response,"No, it just means you're full of crap." "Indeed." "Touche."

And that story be a lesson to you. Never user the word touche, obviously it is wrongly used here. But when one counters with a clever retort, never acknowledge it with a touche. Acknowledge it by punching them full in the face.

So what is my point again? That it is this. I have not written for quite a while, and there is crap in my brain that needs letting out. So this blog has been re instated as my intellectual toilet bowl. I need to write up more fibre so the words come out smoother because obviously I have been having a mental constipation for the past few months. And yes, I did just go there, I used taking a dump analogies.