I used to try and fulfill roles. Not to the point where I would actually assume them, but to the extent that they would consume me. I would forget who I was for a few weeks and act as if I had always been living the dream I pretended to embody.
As I have gotten older, I have slowly started to awaken to the fact that I am who I am.
You are who you are. Unless you are acting like someone else.
Then we can not get along. It is highly unlikely.
No more masks. Just me.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Monday, November 23, 2009
Star Date 4: Biological Perspective - Human Hibernation
Imagine an incredible scientific breakthrough that could further the reaches of space exploration, cure obesity, prevent soldiers from dying on the battlefield, ease the process of organ donation, and save the lives of heart attack victims. All of these diverse issues are being combated by the detailed research of top scientists around the world who have become focused on the same goal: human hibernation. The concept of slumbering away for months on end like other organisms has been the center of many science fiction novels, but now, this space age dream is edging ever closer to becoming a realistic solution to many problems.
Throughout the course of history there have been several instances where human beings have been thought to have achieved a state of hibernation. Cases of incidental human hibernation have been open to criticism, but in several instances there is simply no other explanation for how particular individuals survived specific situations.
Take for instance the case of Mitsutaka Uchikoshi, a 35 year old Japanese business man who broke his hip while falling down a mountain during 2004 (Harlow). Mr. Uchikoshi was revived 24 days later at a Kobe, Japan, hospital after being discovered utterly lifeless in a state of frozen coma (Harlow). The doctor who treated the man said: “We don’t know how he survived so long, but his body was preserved in ice for nearly a month and now he is back to normal. If we can understand why, we can save many lives in the future (Harlow).”
Another incident involving accidental human hibernation took place during the winter of 1999 when a Norwegian skier was submerged in icy water for more than an hour (Britt). When the skier was discovered, her heart had stopped while her body temperature had dropped over 40 degrees Fahrenheit (Britt). After receiving medical attention, she fully recovered.
The final incident to be presented took place during a cold winter night in Canada during 2001. Erika Nordby, a toddler, wandered out into the -11 degree Fahrenheit night wearing only a diaper and a t-shirt (Britt). When found, Erika had suffered severe frostbite, and was lacking a heartbeat. After receiving medical attention she was revived, required no amputations, and made a complete recovery (Britt).
All of the afore mentioned victims showed significant signs of hibernation, but without further medical research and testing, there is no way of knowing that a state of hibernation was in fact the preserving life force that saved these three individuals.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines hibernation as: “to pass the winter in a torpid or resting state,” or, “to be or become inactive or dormant (Merriam).” When most people consider hibernation, thoughts of bears burrowing down underneath a leafy forest floor to slumber until the warmth of spring arrives are the first to come to mind. In all reality, bears are only one animal of many that hibernate, including ground squirrels, yellow jackets, bats, and, surprisingly enough, the warm-blooded fat-tailed dwarf lemur (Judson). All of these hibernate in varying ways, with a diverse range of tendencies.
For instance, the black bear only has a slight drop in body temperature as it passes into a long term deep and continuous sleep (Judson). During hibernation, bears are easily stirred if their dwellings are tread upon, and they neither urinate nor defecate throughout the course of their stasis. Energy is gained by burning fat stores directly instead of relying caloric intake (Judson).
Other small mammals like ground squirrels experience extreme drops in core temperature that render the organism completely inactive. Throughout the winter ground squirrels will awaken for short stints, usually a few hours, of intense activity (Judson). These organisms will forage for food and warm their bodies during the short intervals of liveliness.
The yellow jacket is only one of many insects that hibernate, largely in part because of their ‘supercool’ nature. No, these insects do not all rock backwards Kangol’s like L.L. Cool J and a fresh pair of Air Jordans, in this instance ‘supercool’ refers to a lack of nucleating agents within the chemical composition of bodily fluids within the organism. This lack of particles around which crystals can form allows these insects to avoid freezing solid as long as there is no outside factors that introduce nucleating agents into their environment (Campbell). Many other organisms are also ‘supercool,’ mainly those which are commonly referred to as being cold-blooded (Judson).
Humans and other warm-blooded mammals do not have the potential to rid all cells of nucleating agents to produce a ‘supercool’ situation (Campbell). The hearts of mammals such as humans are rendered completely unreviveable and inoperable after cooling past 70 degrees Fahrenheit in most common cases (Magleby). This extreme cooling often times leads to heart-failure. Most mammals that hibernate, such as bears, do not drop their bodily temperature more than a few degrees, relying on clockwork interval bouts of extreme shivering throughout the hibernating months. This shivering also helps deter the chronic muscle decay that could be a potential side effect of lying dormant with little movement for months at a time (Judson).
Bears also combat dropping body temperatures by burning fuel, a large endergonic reaction when one considers the substantial difference between the core body temperature of the hibernating mammal and the temperature of the surrounding environment (Judson). In order to facilitate this excessive burning of energy, the body is forced to burn off large stores of fat to compensate for the lack of caloric intake by the slumbering beast. This is the cause of the seasonal weight gain seen in most hibernators, excepting those that rouse to forage for fuel throughout the course of the hibernating season (Thompson). Additionally, some mammals that are known to hibernate rest in warmer climates, a factor that offsets the need for extreme body temperature regulation.
The fat-tailed dwarf lemur of Madagascar was only recently discovered as the first known hibernating primate (Thompson). These mammals hibernate to save energy when food is scarce during the five to seven month Madagascarian dry season. The discovery of the first hibernating primate has spurred on genetic research by Dr. Matthew T. Andrews, professor of biochemistry at the University of Minnesota Duluth (Thompson).
In his research Dr. Andrews has pinpointed two genes that he believes trigger hibernation in mammals. The genes, which are identified as PL and PDK-4, switch enzymes in order to enable the body to burn fat rather than carbohydrates over a long period of extended stasis (Thompson). “In the hibernation genes we have discovered, there are similar genetic sequences with those of humans. It is decades away, but…short-term stasis would be potentially possible after a lot more investigation on the molecular-biological level,” said Dr. Andrews (Thompson).
Genetic progress relies largely on other detailed research projects including advances in gene manipulation therapy and the ability to regulate gene interaction, both projects that are still years from reaching fruition. Alternatives to gene manipulation studies have also had surprising results in some mammals.
Researchers Mark Roth and Fred Hutchinson of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle, Washington have become the first scientists to successfully induce hibernation in mammals (Britt). The researchers successfully utilized hydrogen-sulfide gas to stop all cell-activity in a grouping of mice during a 2004 study. This process essentially transformed the group of mice temporarily from warm-blooded to cold-blooded organisms. The hydrogen-sulfide gas was given through the respiration process, and caused a completely and utter shut down of all cell activity in the mice (Britt). After lying seemingly lifeless for six hours the mice were revived by simply switching their air supply back to a concentrated stream of oxygen (Britt). The most negative aspect of this potential for human hibernation is the natural tendency of hydrogen sulfide gas to be poisonous in significant amounts, making the quantities to be inhaled a tricky and high-risk venture (Campbell). The mice did not seemingly experience any long-range mental side effects, a problem that is of high concern to many considering the feasibility of human hibernation.
Hibernation in some mammals, like the golden – mantled ground squirrel, causes a complete disconnection and disabling of dendrites during their state of suspended animation (Judson). When the squirrels awake, it manages to regrow its dendrites immediately, a process that is largely thought to be unfeasible in humans (Judson). This ‘death of dendrites’ is a side-effect of extreme drops in temperature that cause suspended animation in the squirrels. When this information is paired with the facts regarding heart failure at low temperatures, the feasibility of cold temperature human hibernation seems unlikely. This has led researchers to search for other means by which to achieve the goal of human hibernation.
One such scientist looking for alternatives to the traditional cold-temperature human hibernation theories is Dr. Chen Chi Lee, a biochemist at the University Of Texas Medical School located in Houston, Texas. Dr. Lee was recently awarded a grant totaling over $2.2 million from the National Health Institute to continue his research into 5-prime adenosine monophosphate (5’-AMP) (Magleby). 5’-AMP has been found to induce short hibernation like state in mice. The 5’-AMP acts similarly to the hydrogen sulfide gas method by depriving cells of oxygen to slow the metabolic rate. Manipulation of the monophosphate has proven to be the most difficult obstacle, and Dr. Lee has federal funding through 2013 to continue his research in hopes that he will figure out a way around this problem (Magleby).
Another project being fueled by American tax payer dollars is the research of Dr. Hasan Alam of the Massachusetts General Hospital. Dr. Alam’s research is funded by the United States Army and focuses around a plasma expander solution that rapidly drops body temperature when injected directly into a patient (Thompson). The plasma expander consists of a saline solution that slows metabolism by dropping a patient’s body temperature roughly 27 degrees Celsius in a matter of minutes (Thompson). Dr. Alam has done the majority of his research on eight pigs who he was able to send into hibernation for two hours before reviving them with no noticeable negative side effects (Thompson). As the research continues, Dr. Alam hopes to capitalize on his ties to the U.S. Army and do future testing on soldiers (Thompson).
Without further research that crosses the line from testing nonhibernating mammals to actual clinical tests on humans, the hibernation of human beings will continue to be a space age dream. Many well-educated and driven individuals have taken the time to observe, document, and study the way other organisms rely on this phenomenon for survival and then taken the information gathered and applied it to dedicated and devoted research. Many scientists are taking a variety of approaches to further research in this field including studies on DNA, hydrogen sulfide gas, 5’-AMP, and plasma expander solution, along with a variety of other methods in the hopes that one day it will be feasible to solve many problems and advance the betterment of society by utilizing human hibernation techniques.
References
Bradbury, J. (2001). How Hibernators might one day solve medical problems. The Lancet, 358.
Britt, R.R. (2005, April 21). New hibernation technique might work on humans. Retrieved from http://www.livescience.com/health/050421_hibernation.html.
Campbell, N.A., & Reece, J.B. (Ed.). (2009). Biology. New York: Benjaman - Cummings Publishing Co..
Depre, C., Kim, S.J., John, A.S., Huang, Y., & Rimoldi, O.E. (2004). Program of cell survival underlying human and experimental hibernating myocardium. PubMed, 95(4), 433-440.
European Communities, . (2004, August 5). Esa dreams of human hibernation. Retrieved from http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/
Folk, G.E., Dickson, E.W., Hunt, J.M., Nilles, E.J., & Thrift, D.L. (2007). Qt intervals compared in small and large hibernators and humans. Biological Rhythm Research, 39(5), 427-438.
Harlow, J. (2007, May 27). Race to be first to 'hibernate' human beings. The London Times, On-line.
Judson, O. (2008). Hiber nation. Natural History, 116(10).
Magleby, M. (2009, May 20). Federal research exploring potential for 'human hibernation'. Retrieved from http://www.cnsnews.com/news/print/48369.
2008. In Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary.
Retrieved November 10, 2008, from http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/
Robb, G. (2007, November 25). The Big sleep. The New York Times, On-line.
Thompson, J. (2000, December 3). Gene research scientists close to human hibernation breakthrough. Retrieved from http://liscense.icopyright.net/user/viewFeeUse.act?fuid_NTcxOTAyNw%3D%3D.
Throughout the course of history there have been several instances where human beings have been thought to have achieved a state of hibernation. Cases of incidental human hibernation have been open to criticism, but in several instances there is simply no other explanation for how particular individuals survived specific situations.
Take for instance the case of Mitsutaka Uchikoshi, a 35 year old Japanese business man who broke his hip while falling down a mountain during 2004 (Harlow). Mr. Uchikoshi was revived 24 days later at a Kobe, Japan, hospital after being discovered utterly lifeless in a state of frozen coma (Harlow). The doctor who treated the man said: “We don’t know how he survived so long, but his body was preserved in ice for nearly a month and now he is back to normal. If we can understand why, we can save many lives in the future (Harlow).”
Another incident involving accidental human hibernation took place during the winter of 1999 when a Norwegian skier was submerged in icy water for more than an hour (Britt). When the skier was discovered, her heart had stopped while her body temperature had dropped over 40 degrees Fahrenheit (Britt). After receiving medical attention, she fully recovered.
The final incident to be presented took place during a cold winter night in Canada during 2001. Erika Nordby, a toddler, wandered out into the -11 degree Fahrenheit night wearing only a diaper and a t-shirt (Britt). When found, Erika had suffered severe frostbite, and was lacking a heartbeat. After receiving medical attention she was revived, required no amputations, and made a complete recovery (Britt).
All of the afore mentioned victims showed significant signs of hibernation, but without further medical research and testing, there is no way of knowing that a state of hibernation was in fact the preserving life force that saved these three individuals.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines hibernation as: “to pass the winter in a torpid or resting state,” or, “to be or become inactive or dormant (Merriam).” When most people consider hibernation, thoughts of bears burrowing down underneath a leafy forest floor to slumber until the warmth of spring arrives are the first to come to mind. In all reality, bears are only one animal of many that hibernate, including ground squirrels, yellow jackets, bats, and, surprisingly enough, the warm-blooded fat-tailed dwarf lemur (Judson). All of these hibernate in varying ways, with a diverse range of tendencies.
For instance, the black bear only has a slight drop in body temperature as it passes into a long term deep and continuous sleep (Judson). During hibernation, bears are easily stirred if their dwellings are tread upon, and they neither urinate nor defecate throughout the course of their stasis. Energy is gained by burning fat stores directly instead of relying caloric intake (Judson).
Other small mammals like ground squirrels experience extreme drops in core temperature that render the organism completely inactive. Throughout the winter ground squirrels will awaken for short stints, usually a few hours, of intense activity (Judson). These organisms will forage for food and warm their bodies during the short intervals of liveliness.
The yellow jacket is only one of many insects that hibernate, largely in part because of their ‘supercool’ nature. No, these insects do not all rock backwards Kangol’s like L.L. Cool J and a fresh pair of Air Jordans, in this instance ‘supercool’ refers to a lack of nucleating agents within the chemical composition of bodily fluids within the organism. This lack of particles around which crystals can form allows these insects to avoid freezing solid as long as there is no outside factors that introduce nucleating agents into their environment (Campbell). Many other organisms are also ‘supercool,’ mainly those which are commonly referred to as being cold-blooded (Judson).
Humans and other warm-blooded mammals do not have the potential to rid all cells of nucleating agents to produce a ‘supercool’ situation (Campbell). The hearts of mammals such as humans are rendered completely unreviveable and inoperable after cooling past 70 degrees Fahrenheit in most common cases (Magleby). This extreme cooling often times leads to heart-failure. Most mammals that hibernate, such as bears, do not drop their bodily temperature more than a few degrees, relying on clockwork interval bouts of extreme shivering throughout the hibernating months. This shivering also helps deter the chronic muscle decay that could be a potential side effect of lying dormant with little movement for months at a time (Judson).
Bears also combat dropping body temperatures by burning fuel, a large endergonic reaction when one considers the substantial difference between the core body temperature of the hibernating mammal and the temperature of the surrounding environment (Judson). In order to facilitate this excessive burning of energy, the body is forced to burn off large stores of fat to compensate for the lack of caloric intake by the slumbering beast. This is the cause of the seasonal weight gain seen in most hibernators, excepting those that rouse to forage for fuel throughout the course of the hibernating season (Thompson). Additionally, some mammals that are known to hibernate rest in warmer climates, a factor that offsets the need for extreme body temperature regulation.
The fat-tailed dwarf lemur of Madagascar was only recently discovered as the first known hibernating primate (Thompson). These mammals hibernate to save energy when food is scarce during the five to seven month Madagascarian dry season. The discovery of the first hibernating primate has spurred on genetic research by Dr. Matthew T. Andrews, professor of biochemistry at the University of Minnesota Duluth (Thompson).
In his research Dr. Andrews has pinpointed two genes that he believes trigger hibernation in mammals. The genes, which are identified as PL and PDK-4, switch enzymes in order to enable the body to burn fat rather than carbohydrates over a long period of extended stasis (Thompson). “In the hibernation genes we have discovered, there are similar genetic sequences with those of humans. It is decades away, but…short-term stasis would be potentially possible after a lot more investigation on the molecular-biological level,” said Dr. Andrews (Thompson).
Genetic progress relies largely on other detailed research projects including advances in gene manipulation therapy and the ability to regulate gene interaction, both projects that are still years from reaching fruition. Alternatives to gene manipulation studies have also had surprising results in some mammals.
Researchers Mark Roth and Fred Hutchinson of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle, Washington have become the first scientists to successfully induce hibernation in mammals (Britt). The researchers successfully utilized hydrogen-sulfide gas to stop all cell-activity in a grouping of mice during a 2004 study. This process essentially transformed the group of mice temporarily from warm-blooded to cold-blooded organisms. The hydrogen-sulfide gas was given through the respiration process, and caused a completely and utter shut down of all cell activity in the mice (Britt). After lying seemingly lifeless for six hours the mice were revived by simply switching their air supply back to a concentrated stream of oxygen (Britt). The most negative aspect of this potential for human hibernation is the natural tendency of hydrogen sulfide gas to be poisonous in significant amounts, making the quantities to be inhaled a tricky and high-risk venture (Campbell). The mice did not seemingly experience any long-range mental side effects, a problem that is of high concern to many considering the feasibility of human hibernation.
Hibernation in some mammals, like the golden – mantled ground squirrel, causes a complete disconnection and disabling of dendrites during their state of suspended animation (Judson). When the squirrels awake, it manages to regrow its dendrites immediately, a process that is largely thought to be unfeasible in humans (Judson). This ‘death of dendrites’ is a side-effect of extreme drops in temperature that cause suspended animation in the squirrels. When this information is paired with the facts regarding heart failure at low temperatures, the feasibility of cold temperature human hibernation seems unlikely. This has led researchers to search for other means by which to achieve the goal of human hibernation.
One such scientist looking for alternatives to the traditional cold-temperature human hibernation theories is Dr. Chen Chi Lee, a biochemist at the University Of Texas Medical School located in Houston, Texas. Dr. Lee was recently awarded a grant totaling over $2.2 million from the National Health Institute to continue his research into 5-prime adenosine monophosphate (5’-AMP) (Magleby). 5’-AMP has been found to induce short hibernation like state in mice. The 5’-AMP acts similarly to the hydrogen sulfide gas method by depriving cells of oxygen to slow the metabolic rate. Manipulation of the monophosphate has proven to be the most difficult obstacle, and Dr. Lee has federal funding through 2013 to continue his research in hopes that he will figure out a way around this problem (Magleby).
Another project being fueled by American tax payer dollars is the research of Dr. Hasan Alam of the Massachusetts General Hospital. Dr. Alam’s research is funded by the United States Army and focuses around a plasma expander solution that rapidly drops body temperature when injected directly into a patient (Thompson). The plasma expander consists of a saline solution that slows metabolism by dropping a patient’s body temperature roughly 27 degrees Celsius in a matter of minutes (Thompson). Dr. Alam has done the majority of his research on eight pigs who he was able to send into hibernation for two hours before reviving them with no noticeable negative side effects (Thompson). As the research continues, Dr. Alam hopes to capitalize on his ties to the U.S. Army and do future testing on soldiers (Thompson).
Without further research that crosses the line from testing nonhibernating mammals to actual clinical tests on humans, the hibernation of human beings will continue to be a space age dream. Many well-educated and driven individuals have taken the time to observe, document, and study the way other organisms rely on this phenomenon for survival and then taken the information gathered and applied it to dedicated and devoted research. Many scientists are taking a variety of approaches to further research in this field including studies on DNA, hydrogen sulfide gas, 5’-AMP, and plasma expander solution, along with a variety of other methods in the hopes that one day it will be feasible to solve many problems and advance the betterment of society by utilizing human hibernation techniques.
References
Bradbury, J. (2001). How Hibernators might one day solve medical problems. The Lancet, 358.
Britt, R.R. (2005, April 21). New hibernation technique might work on humans. Retrieved from http://www.livescience.com/health/050421_hibernation.html.
Campbell, N.A., & Reece, J.B. (Ed.). (2009). Biology. New York: Benjaman - Cummings Publishing Co..
Depre, C., Kim, S.J., John, A.S., Huang, Y., & Rimoldi, O.E. (2004). Program of cell survival underlying human and experimental hibernating myocardium. PubMed, 95(4), 433-440.
European Communities, . (2004, August 5). Esa dreams of human hibernation. Retrieved from http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/
Folk, G.E., Dickson, E.W., Hunt, J.M., Nilles, E.J., & Thrift, D.L. (2007). Qt intervals compared in small and large hibernators and humans. Biological Rhythm Research, 39(5), 427-438.
Harlow, J. (2007, May 27). Race to be first to 'hibernate' human beings. The London Times, On-line.
Judson, O. (2008). Hiber nation. Natural History, 116(10).
Magleby, M. (2009, May 20). Federal research exploring potential for 'human hibernation'. Retrieved from http://www.cnsnews.com/news/print/48369.
2008. In Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary.
Retrieved November 10, 2008, from http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/
Robb, G. (2007, November 25). The Big sleep. The New York Times, On-line.
Thompson, J. (2000, December 3). Gene research scientists close to human hibernation breakthrough. Retrieved from http://liscense.icopyright.net/user/viewFeeUse.act?fuid_NTcxOTAyNw%3D%3D.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Retro-Active Star Date: - 1.
(This is a piece I composed for a friend a couple years ago. I then re-worked it for an essay during my composition I class roughly three semesters ago. She asked me for a copy, so I once again re-worked it slightly, and have arrived at this product.)
Plastered across billboards and filling various types of waves through the air we breathe, there are faces that everyone sees and can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy. These are the famous people. The one’s who don’t wait for tables, the individuals who can not walk down the street without someone screaming their name or snapping a photograph. In the back of our minds, we are all green with envy, desperately hoping that one day we will be the source of such conversation and special attention. One night, just off the crowded blocks of Court Avenue, I, along with another, found that elusive fame.
We danced that night. Casually, but yet for the entire world to see. I picked you up in those fields just south of a foreign downtown, your hair wind-swept, and your face sunburned. I took you into the city and showed you the alluding wonders you had always missed on your previous visits to the capital city. We walked the gardens outside the Centre for the Arts and then picked our way through the staccato traffic as we meandered downtown.
As we rolled down the windows with an electric buzz, we felt the electricity of the city night on the breeze. The sun was falling from the sky and all of Court Avenue was alive with flickering lights and meaningful conversation. We stretched our legs and looked for somewhere to find the solace brought by good food and drink at the end of a long day. We settled on a restaurant that fell short of Hollywood ambiance, but had the charm of an establishment that operated just outside of the turbulent mainstream.
I held the door as we embarked on our quest to silence our stomachs while enjoying each other’s company. You smiled at the hostess as she walked us over through the heavy smells of well cooked meat and a tantalizing array of spices. We were seated in side wall booth, just comfortable enough for two weary travelers to enjoy the privacy and ambiance provided by close quarters.
Then, in that restaurant, an old time melody crossed through the discreetly hidden speakers and captivated each of us. My thoughts raced as each syllable clicked inside my head, spurring my toe to tap and a gently placing a smile on my lips. I had no choice but to stammer the obvious, "would you like to dance?"
At first you looked at me as if I was attempting to play some cruel joke, and my heart hung in the balance as realization crept into your eyes, lighting them to illuminate the darkness of the room. Soon, a smile found its way onto your face as you came to comprehend the legitimacy of my offer. You looked down giggling like a small child as you took my hand.
As we stood, the eyes of every after-work business man in his shabby sport coat and his second-rate stay at home wife in her summer dress shifted from their meaningless conversation and locked upon us. You could feel the envy in their stares, the jealousy outlined in blue and gray eyes all across the room as they quit speaking about the average days they had been living out for years and focused solely on us. The two.
The texture of your dress was rich against my arms as you nestled in, gently swaying your hips, locking them into mine as our breathing and sway met with the music. In that moment, one tiny corner of the world admired and resented us.
We knew in their beat-up SUVs and foreign cars the conversations would revolve around us as each coupled headed home to pay the babysitter and crawl in bed, "those two young kids who just stood up in the middle of dinner and began dancing, oh, to be young, etc." We could feel it from the sets of eyes as we paid the bill, stood and left. I continued to draw looks as you were in the bathroom, absent-mindedly flicking a tooth-pick with my tongue, making sure to soak in the moment, making eye contact to match every absent-minded stair.
I held the door and the city sky felt alive, electric. We went through fits of laughter as we walked out into the streets, knowing that for that one night we were famous. An unknown celebrity that would be looked upon by others who had been there and would always recall in their minds the two young kids that weren't too afraid to dance. The two kids who weren't afraid to be young and in love. The two.
Plastered across billboards and filling various types of waves through the air we breathe, there are faces that everyone sees and can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy. These are the famous people. The one’s who don’t wait for tables, the individuals who can not walk down the street without someone screaming their name or snapping a photograph. In the back of our minds, we are all green with envy, desperately hoping that one day we will be the source of such conversation and special attention. One night, just off the crowded blocks of Court Avenue, I, along with another, found that elusive fame.
We danced that night. Casually, but yet for the entire world to see. I picked you up in those fields just south of a foreign downtown, your hair wind-swept, and your face sunburned. I took you into the city and showed you the alluding wonders you had always missed on your previous visits to the capital city. We walked the gardens outside the Centre for the Arts and then picked our way through the staccato traffic as we meandered downtown.
As we rolled down the windows with an electric buzz, we felt the electricity of the city night on the breeze. The sun was falling from the sky and all of Court Avenue was alive with flickering lights and meaningful conversation. We stretched our legs and looked for somewhere to find the solace brought by good food and drink at the end of a long day. We settled on a restaurant that fell short of Hollywood ambiance, but had the charm of an establishment that operated just outside of the turbulent mainstream.
I held the door as we embarked on our quest to silence our stomachs while enjoying each other’s company. You smiled at the hostess as she walked us over through the heavy smells of well cooked meat and a tantalizing array of spices. We were seated in side wall booth, just comfortable enough for two weary travelers to enjoy the privacy and ambiance provided by close quarters.
Then, in that restaurant, an old time melody crossed through the discreetly hidden speakers and captivated each of us. My thoughts raced as each syllable clicked inside my head, spurring my toe to tap and a gently placing a smile on my lips. I had no choice but to stammer the obvious, "would you like to dance?"
At first you looked at me as if I was attempting to play some cruel joke, and my heart hung in the balance as realization crept into your eyes, lighting them to illuminate the darkness of the room. Soon, a smile found its way onto your face as you came to comprehend the legitimacy of my offer. You looked down giggling like a small child as you took my hand.
As we stood, the eyes of every after-work business man in his shabby sport coat and his second-rate stay at home wife in her summer dress shifted from their meaningless conversation and locked upon us. You could feel the envy in their stares, the jealousy outlined in blue and gray eyes all across the room as they quit speaking about the average days they had been living out for years and focused solely on us. The two.
The texture of your dress was rich against my arms as you nestled in, gently swaying your hips, locking them into mine as our breathing and sway met with the music. In that moment, one tiny corner of the world admired and resented us.
We knew in their beat-up SUVs and foreign cars the conversations would revolve around us as each coupled headed home to pay the babysitter and crawl in bed, "those two young kids who just stood up in the middle of dinner and began dancing, oh, to be young, etc." We could feel it from the sets of eyes as we paid the bill, stood and left. I continued to draw looks as you were in the bathroom, absent-mindedly flicking a tooth-pick with my tongue, making sure to soak in the moment, making eye contact to match every absent-minded stair.
I held the door and the city sky felt alive, electric. We went through fits of laughter as we walked out into the streets, knowing that for that one night we were famous. An unknown celebrity that would be looked upon by others who had been there and would always recall in their minds the two young kids that weren't too afraid to dance. The two kids who weren't afraid to be young and in love. The two.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Star Date 3: Biological Perspective Overview.
Lately I have been seeing the world in an entirely different way.
Through my previous years of schooling, I always took the time to focus on the things I already had a solid knowledge of. This kept the world behind my window while granting me the type of bliss that is found only in ignorance. I have understood the words on the pages for years now, but that knowledge never changes the information on the signs in the world around me.
As many know, a few months ago I resigned my post as a journalist with Lee Enterprises to return to school and venture into the field of bio-chemistry.
Previously, I had never been much of a science person. I managed to get through high school physics with the help of a particular Derek Schipul and his ever present worksheets full of answers. I always tuned out during lectures and PowerPoint presentations designed to teach me the differences in endoplasmic reticulum structures because I was narrow minded enough to assume that the knowledge would never apply to me.
I was going to go out, grab the world by the boot straps, and pull it all up with me on my way to the top. I don't know where the sense of entitlement I used to posses went to, but now, most days, I am happy that it's gone. Over the years I have come to the conclusion that ignorance often times leads to arrogance, and that you rarely find one without the other.
Throughout the course of my studies, my math and science skills have been severely weakened due to a lack of motivation and diligence. The simple truth that the natural sciences have been neglected and disadvantaged in my education is what drew me to them as a life path.
I have no idea if it was an intelligent move to sit down and decide: "I'm going to figure out what I am the worst at, apply myself whole-heatedly, and see if I come out the other side successful."
Some days I wake up and consider that the decision to focus on improving my weaknesses may have not been the most intelligent. There is the possibility that the seasoned veteran would have continued to stick to things he hated but excelled in. I was no longer willing to do that.
Once the decision was made, the bricks were not hard to put in place, and the benefits were not slow to follow. From the first day I arrived back on campus, enrolled in a daunting slate of science focused classes, I began to learn. The learning that began has continued and been unlike any that I have done before.
In the past, the education process consisted of my sliding by on my natural intellect and as little actual work as possible. As I have moved into courses designed for individuals who have been driven to study biology or chemistry for years I have been forced to play perpetual catch-up. The knowledge that is taken for granted by many of the individuals in my classes is still foreign to me. It is as though my peers and instructors correspond with one another in a language I don't understand and am only just now beginning to learn.
I have become the American tourist standing on a corner in Merida speaking broken Spanish to all who pass in hopes that someone can point me towards my hotel: Clean and ready with a smile, but still lost none the less.
The lack of familiarity has set my efforts on fire, providing me with the motivation to get out of bed and better myself each and every day. I have begun to learn information that was never previously in my head before. Never did I contemplate molecular structure of foods or the present global crisis of fresh water shortages.
I was always somewhere from mildly to excessively political, mainly hoping to appear different and somehow more enlightened than my peers. This affinity for beginning arguments with people who could easily refute my points and make me look unintelligent was my only experience with environmental issues. I had never heard of the nitrogen cycle, or the phosphorus cycle, let alone how to construct the chemical equation for sulfuric acid. I was uneducated, but unaware of my deficiency.
As I have continued my uphill battle to better myself I have found knowledge espousing from my head several times a day. A few days ago I was sitting at a family dinner with my parents and began contemplating the differences in molecular structure in varying types of butter and margarine substitutes, and where exactly the Country Crock on my dining room table would fall in the range from spray margarine (which is the most healthy due to the hydrogen bonding) to hard stick butter.
I have also been cutting my consumption of meat and animal byproducts due to my increased awareness of how the world around us is always working. I will posting a full reasoning behind this at a later date, but it involves the conservation of resources, not a love of animals (but I do have that as well).
This burdening passion for science continues to change my life each and every day. Yesterday, on the first day of expected snow, I began to contract cabin fever. I have a storied history of seasonal depression, and already I am longing for the outdoors with my heart and soul. I fled my home in hopes that I could shake the demons that had taken up residence on my shoulders.
I ended up rendezvousing with a particular lady friend I am quite fond of (Marissa), and we began to pace the continually browning countryside.
My thoughts wandered and circled, turning from subject to subject as we watched the freshly harvested fields slip past the dirty windows. Simply driving the stretches of concrete was not going to be enough to cure my restlessness, I needed to go outside.
Finally, as we cut north of Mason City and began to head west, I remembered a lecture I had been present for several weeks ago where my instructor highlighted several of the local attractions that were must sees for all biology students. Among the activities she listed and described was the possibility of a trip to the Lime Creek Nature Center.
Marissa and I had very little in the way of afternoon plans, excepting the possibility of a nap, so after I asked her permission, we were on our way.
The Lime Creek Nature Center is not somewhere new to me, in fact, I have been there a handful of times. The only real hindrance to me being an expert on the facility and its services is the simple fact that I had not been through those heavy doors since I was just over five years old.
We arrived at the Center and parked in the gravel parking lot across the blacktop road, fighting the crisp air as we scuttled to the front doors in the hopes that they would be unlocked.
They were, and we went inside to discover and discuss many wonders of our natural world. I would suggest you go to the preserve just north of Mason City on Highway 65 and explore the Center for yourself someday, so I will not bore you with what was personally interesting to either of us.
Without an education in biology, I would never have thought to go there, I would not even have been interested. Now, it was an excellent way to spend a quiet Sunday afternoon with the girl I love.
Biology and the rest of the natural sciences have impacted me greatly as of late. I am planning on starting a series of sorts on the impact that particular things I have learned throughout my studies that relates how particular facts and figures have led me to making personal changes in the hopes of bettering the world around me. Stay tuned.
Through my previous years of schooling, I always took the time to focus on the things I already had a solid knowledge of. This kept the world behind my window while granting me the type of bliss that is found only in ignorance. I have understood the words on the pages for years now, but that knowledge never changes the information on the signs in the world around me.
As many know, a few months ago I resigned my post as a journalist with Lee Enterprises to return to school and venture into the field of bio-chemistry.
Previously, I had never been much of a science person. I managed to get through high school physics with the help of a particular Derek Schipul and his ever present worksheets full of answers. I always tuned out during lectures and PowerPoint presentations designed to teach me the differences in endoplasmic reticulum structures because I was narrow minded enough to assume that the knowledge would never apply to me.
I was going to go out, grab the world by the boot straps, and pull it all up with me on my way to the top. I don't know where the sense of entitlement I used to posses went to, but now, most days, I am happy that it's gone. Over the years I have come to the conclusion that ignorance often times leads to arrogance, and that you rarely find one without the other.
Throughout the course of my studies, my math and science skills have been severely weakened due to a lack of motivation and diligence. The simple truth that the natural sciences have been neglected and disadvantaged in my education is what drew me to them as a life path.
I have no idea if it was an intelligent move to sit down and decide: "I'm going to figure out what I am the worst at, apply myself whole-heatedly, and see if I come out the other side successful."
Some days I wake up and consider that the decision to focus on improving my weaknesses may have not been the most intelligent. There is the possibility that the seasoned veteran would have continued to stick to things he hated but excelled in. I was no longer willing to do that.
Once the decision was made, the bricks were not hard to put in place, and the benefits were not slow to follow. From the first day I arrived back on campus, enrolled in a daunting slate of science focused classes, I began to learn. The learning that began has continued and been unlike any that I have done before.
In the past, the education process consisted of my sliding by on my natural intellect and as little actual work as possible. As I have moved into courses designed for individuals who have been driven to study biology or chemistry for years I have been forced to play perpetual catch-up. The knowledge that is taken for granted by many of the individuals in my classes is still foreign to me. It is as though my peers and instructors correspond with one another in a language I don't understand and am only just now beginning to learn.
I have become the American tourist standing on a corner in Merida speaking broken Spanish to all who pass in hopes that someone can point me towards my hotel: Clean and ready with a smile, but still lost none the less.
The lack of familiarity has set my efforts on fire, providing me with the motivation to get out of bed and better myself each and every day. I have begun to learn information that was never previously in my head before. Never did I contemplate molecular structure of foods or the present global crisis of fresh water shortages.
I was always somewhere from mildly to excessively political, mainly hoping to appear different and somehow more enlightened than my peers. This affinity for beginning arguments with people who could easily refute my points and make me look unintelligent was my only experience with environmental issues. I had never heard of the nitrogen cycle, or the phosphorus cycle, let alone how to construct the chemical equation for sulfuric acid. I was uneducated, but unaware of my deficiency.
As I have continued my uphill battle to better myself I have found knowledge espousing from my head several times a day. A few days ago I was sitting at a family dinner with my parents and began contemplating the differences in molecular structure in varying types of butter and margarine substitutes, and where exactly the Country Crock on my dining room table would fall in the range from spray margarine (which is the most healthy due to the hydrogen bonding) to hard stick butter.
I have also been cutting my consumption of meat and animal byproducts due to my increased awareness of how the world around us is always working. I will posting a full reasoning behind this at a later date, but it involves the conservation of resources, not a love of animals (but I do have that as well).
This burdening passion for science continues to change my life each and every day. Yesterday, on the first day of expected snow, I began to contract cabin fever. I have a storied history of seasonal depression, and already I am longing for the outdoors with my heart and soul. I fled my home in hopes that I could shake the demons that had taken up residence on my shoulders.
I ended up rendezvousing with a particular lady friend I am quite fond of (Marissa), and we began to pace the continually browning countryside.
My thoughts wandered and circled, turning from subject to subject as we watched the freshly harvested fields slip past the dirty windows. Simply driving the stretches of concrete was not going to be enough to cure my restlessness, I needed to go outside.
Finally, as we cut north of Mason City and began to head west, I remembered a lecture I had been present for several weeks ago where my instructor highlighted several of the local attractions that were must sees for all biology students. Among the activities she listed and described was the possibility of a trip to the Lime Creek Nature Center.
Marissa and I had very little in the way of afternoon plans, excepting the possibility of a nap, so after I asked her permission, we were on our way.
The Lime Creek Nature Center is not somewhere new to me, in fact, I have been there a handful of times. The only real hindrance to me being an expert on the facility and its services is the simple fact that I had not been through those heavy doors since I was just over five years old.
We arrived at the Center and parked in the gravel parking lot across the blacktop road, fighting the crisp air as we scuttled to the front doors in the hopes that they would be unlocked.
They were, and we went inside to discover and discuss many wonders of our natural world. I would suggest you go to the preserve just north of Mason City on Highway 65 and explore the Center for yourself someday, so I will not bore you with what was personally interesting to either of us.
Without an education in biology, I would never have thought to go there, I would not even have been interested. Now, it was an excellent way to spend a quiet Sunday afternoon with the girl I love.
Biology and the rest of the natural sciences have impacted me greatly as of late. I am planning on starting a series of sorts on the impact that particular things I have learned throughout my studies that relates how particular facts and figures have led me to making personal changes in the hopes of bettering the world around me. Stay tuned.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Star Date 2: Milestones.
I recall simplistic days of my youth where great anticipation was pinned and planned for all milestones. Birthdays, Christmas, Confirmations, and anything else that would bring the potential for presents and an assembling of valued individuals.
In my house as a youngster, we even got presents on our siblings birthdays courtesy of my grandmother. This was designed to not make us feel jealous or sad, and it really worked.
As my age progressed, milestones became a mixed blessing. The family holidays in Iowa City became more and more strained as myself and the other kids grew older, gained diversified interests, and learned how to make fun of one another. We all segmented and hung out with specific cousins, gathered as a large group for dinner, and then waited for our fathers to get bored enough to demand that our mothers part each others company.
In Middle School, birthdays started to take a turn for me. In the Pella superstructure of popularity, all of the children would throw 'parties' on their birthdays. These were limited social engagements that included those who had an affinity for bouncing a basketball or the affluence of a Lunchable in the cafeteria. This skewed my perception of milestones for a time, seeing as I was rarely invited to these occasions all though I ran in the same social circles as the other individuals. Additionally, my father was never a huge proponent of me personally having birthday parties, so when this became the in trend, I felt as though I was being denied a birthright of some sort.
In high school, the family occasions became more of hindrance, mainly due to my addictions. At family Christmas and family reunions I was constantly attempting to find ways outdoors and away from the others so I could catch a nicotine buzz. Later I was looking for even greater avoidances. Weekend family reunions got tricky, and I started to segregate myself from the groups completely, usually using a book and a grimace as a hearty defence to any intruders.
Birthdays slightly improved during this time period as an improved social support system provided individuals who would go out of their way to make sure that I had a carton of cigarettes or a birthday cake. I began to look forward to birthdays again, and started taking pride in being an excellent gift giver. There was one occasion where a particular girl I was fond of received sixteen different and equally thoughtful gifts for sixteen days leading up to her birthday. She still broke up with me the day after, but that is a memory for a completely different time (Maybe a post of being taken advantage of unwittingly).
As alcohol entered the picture in the late teen years, birthdays became especially fun, along with all other social occasions away from my parents. Proms, high school sporting events, and most weekend nights became milestones large enough to go out and lose our heads. This made me enjoy them more.
Then I remember the night where milestones quit being fun again. It was during the flood of 2008 and I was back living in the southern part of the state. My dear friend was home from Vermont, and on the eve of his birthday we ascended the barn ladders at his parent's homestead to sit beneath the rafters that had watched us grow old.
Bails of hay were stacked around to provide us company and caution as we sparked lighters on a dilapidated sofa as smoke climbed up and up to encircle the rafters. We spoke in muddled tones about the things that had transpired since he left for America's smaller mountains. He talked of personal discovery, I talked of experience. The hours dropped off our watches and eventually, it was his birthday. He was turning twenty, and we began to talk about the milestone that was hanging from his neck.
He spoke of how now that he was no longer a teenager, the world would be at his doorstep each and every morning. That there was so much more to strive for, so many more expectations. He seemed daunted, prepared but uneasy for the vague things that were about to confront him.
I sat in muted silence as I listened, soaking in the knowledge of a man I both respected and admired. I was hoping to gain some enlightenment, but I had yet to learn that enlightenment is hard to gain from others: it is a gift to be gained from personal experience and often times hardship.
I left in the decaying hours of the graying morning and returned home to slip into a troubled sleep. Two months later I would sit on the same step of manhood, and I felt the milestone weight heavy around my neck. I had similar thoughts to the ones he described that night. I had similar burdens that would weigh on my mind that day.
That is when milestones began to make a difference. They turned from joyous social occasions filled with whiskey slurs and brown eyed girls to the markers they really are in the cemetery of my past. It is easy to forget the day to day, but those days, the ones with added significance, they embed, they stay. They are branded upon my mind in exact details: anything from a floral print tank top to a dinosaur frosted chocolate marble cake.
I quit looking forward to these days, or at least I have tried.
Yesterday I passed another significant milestone: a six month anniversary. This is something I have not accomplished in years, and will hopefully never accomplish again. All week it was a pleasant reminder that I had someone who loves me, and is in turn loved by me. The occasion served as a handy conversation stimulant in the preceding day, but once the calender turned, it took on the heavy thoughts that I now expect from milestones.
It is as if I perch upon these grave markers of my past and look back, hand flattened against my forehead to shade my eyes, squinting through the glare of time and trial to appraise what has transpired.
I saw a quiet girl in a journalism class that wore yellow sweatpants and quietly lamented me for breaking the heart of her friend. I saw the same girl go on an unfortunate date with another man, a date that made me jealous enough to want her for myself. I saw those first few conversations where we were both nervous, struggling to maintain eye contact. Then I saw that eye contact grow, the butterflies stay, and a first date in my kitchen baking cookies that even the cookie monster wouldn't have wanted to eat. I recalled the first few weeks, where I was unsure. The time period where I usually would just abandon girls out of a fear of commitment, avoiding phone calls and making drunk proclamations from red stained lips.
Then I saw how she got me past that. How she didn't give up. What she did, what I asked of her, and how she rose to every challenge I presented for her.
I saw a list of a hundred and one date activities, and the way it became stained with pink highlighter as we worked our way through them one by one. I remembered a move to Britt, and a move back. I saw the time she dropped her fork and walked across the table to hold my head in her hands as I wept for my personal dignity.
I saw the uneasy end of summer, and the dawning of the fall. The distance ripped at my heart as she journeyed off to school. The way we have made it through. The way we will always make it through.
Yesterday dawned my six month anniversary, a milestone that to some is significant, to others is meaningless. It plagued me all morning from between my sips of coffee as I pondered where the future will take us. It made me uneasy, the same feeling I had on the eve of my twentieth birthday. Then, I looked back and came to the realization that: anywhere I am going from here on out, I will never be alone. That simple truth provided me comfort. I will always have a place to lay my head, I will always have a hand to hold.
I love you darling,
I really do.
Always and forever.
In my house as a youngster, we even got presents on our siblings birthdays courtesy of my grandmother. This was designed to not make us feel jealous or sad, and it really worked.
As my age progressed, milestones became a mixed blessing. The family holidays in Iowa City became more and more strained as myself and the other kids grew older, gained diversified interests, and learned how to make fun of one another. We all segmented and hung out with specific cousins, gathered as a large group for dinner, and then waited for our fathers to get bored enough to demand that our mothers part each others company.
In Middle School, birthdays started to take a turn for me. In the Pella superstructure of popularity, all of the children would throw 'parties' on their birthdays. These were limited social engagements that included those who had an affinity for bouncing a basketball or the affluence of a Lunchable in the cafeteria. This skewed my perception of milestones for a time, seeing as I was rarely invited to these occasions all though I ran in the same social circles as the other individuals. Additionally, my father was never a huge proponent of me personally having birthday parties, so when this became the in trend, I felt as though I was being denied a birthright of some sort.
In high school, the family occasions became more of hindrance, mainly due to my addictions. At family Christmas and family reunions I was constantly attempting to find ways outdoors and away from the others so I could catch a nicotine buzz. Later I was looking for even greater avoidances. Weekend family reunions got tricky, and I started to segregate myself from the groups completely, usually using a book and a grimace as a hearty defence to any intruders.
Birthdays slightly improved during this time period as an improved social support system provided individuals who would go out of their way to make sure that I had a carton of cigarettes or a birthday cake. I began to look forward to birthdays again, and started taking pride in being an excellent gift giver. There was one occasion where a particular girl I was fond of received sixteen different and equally thoughtful gifts for sixteen days leading up to her birthday. She still broke up with me the day after, but that is a memory for a completely different time (Maybe a post of being taken advantage of unwittingly).
As alcohol entered the picture in the late teen years, birthdays became especially fun, along with all other social occasions away from my parents. Proms, high school sporting events, and most weekend nights became milestones large enough to go out and lose our heads. This made me enjoy them more.
Then I remember the night where milestones quit being fun again. It was during the flood of 2008 and I was back living in the southern part of the state. My dear friend was home from Vermont, and on the eve of his birthday we ascended the barn ladders at his parent's homestead to sit beneath the rafters that had watched us grow old.
Bails of hay were stacked around to provide us company and caution as we sparked lighters on a dilapidated sofa as smoke climbed up and up to encircle the rafters. We spoke in muddled tones about the things that had transpired since he left for America's smaller mountains. He talked of personal discovery, I talked of experience. The hours dropped off our watches and eventually, it was his birthday. He was turning twenty, and we began to talk about the milestone that was hanging from his neck.
He spoke of how now that he was no longer a teenager, the world would be at his doorstep each and every morning. That there was so much more to strive for, so many more expectations. He seemed daunted, prepared but uneasy for the vague things that were about to confront him.
I sat in muted silence as I listened, soaking in the knowledge of a man I both respected and admired. I was hoping to gain some enlightenment, but I had yet to learn that enlightenment is hard to gain from others: it is a gift to be gained from personal experience and often times hardship.
I left in the decaying hours of the graying morning and returned home to slip into a troubled sleep. Two months later I would sit on the same step of manhood, and I felt the milestone weight heavy around my neck. I had similar thoughts to the ones he described that night. I had similar burdens that would weigh on my mind that day.
That is when milestones began to make a difference. They turned from joyous social occasions filled with whiskey slurs and brown eyed girls to the markers they really are in the cemetery of my past. It is easy to forget the day to day, but those days, the ones with added significance, they embed, they stay. They are branded upon my mind in exact details: anything from a floral print tank top to a dinosaur frosted chocolate marble cake.
I quit looking forward to these days, or at least I have tried.
Yesterday I passed another significant milestone: a six month anniversary. This is something I have not accomplished in years, and will hopefully never accomplish again. All week it was a pleasant reminder that I had someone who loves me, and is in turn loved by me. The occasion served as a handy conversation stimulant in the preceding day, but once the calender turned, it took on the heavy thoughts that I now expect from milestones.
It is as if I perch upon these grave markers of my past and look back, hand flattened against my forehead to shade my eyes, squinting through the glare of time and trial to appraise what has transpired.
I saw a quiet girl in a journalism class that wore yellow sweatpants and quietly lamented me for breaking the heart of her friend. I saw the same girl go on an unfortunate date with another man, a date that made me jealous enough to want her for myself. I saw those first few conversations where we were both nervous, struggling to maintain eye contact. Then I saw that eye contact grow, the butterflies stay, and a first date in my kitchen baking cookies that even the cookie monster wouldn't have wanted to eat. I recalled the first few weeks, where I was unsure. The time period where I usually would just abandon girls out of a fear of commitment, avoiding phone calls and making drunk proclamations from red stained lips.
Then I saw how she got me past that. How she didn't give up. What she did, what I asked of her, and how she rose to every challenge I presented for her.
I saw a list of a hundred and one date activities, and the way it became stained with pink highlighter as we worked our way through them one by one. I remembered a move to Britt, and a move back. I saw the time she dropped her fork and walked across the table to hold my head in her hands as I wept for my personal dignity.
I saw the uneasy end of summer, and the dawning of the fall. The distance ripped at my heart as she journeyed off to school. The way we have made it through. The way we will always make it through.
Yesterday dawned my six month anniversary, a milestone that to some is significant, to others is meaningless. It plagued me all morning from between my sips of coffee as I pondered where the future will take us. It made me uneasy, the same feeling I had on the eve of my twentieth birthday. Then, I looked back and came to the realization that: anywhere I am going from here on out, I will never be alone. That simple truth provided me comfort. I will always have a place to lay my head, I will always have a hand to hold.
I love you darling,
I really do.
Always and forever.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Star Date 1: A Brief Introduction
So this is where I have arrived, a unique plane of existence centered around a day to day struggle that never has plans of ceasing. A shuffle from blankets, to coffee, through a shower, and into a day so predictable that one might be led to imagine it happened yesterday.
There have been rumors around the mill that once you grow old, life just passes you by. I used to not believe, but more and more I am seeing the truth. The younger kids all know the hippest trends, the most inspiring music, and how to seem on the cutting edge. I used to be among them, however, too much time on the razor's edge will eventually get you cut.
I left the place of my youth prematurely, before I was ready. I ran north to lick my wounds and have seemingly found a place to stay. An area of adaptation that has turned and shaped me into an unrecognizable figure, only half resembling my past self.
Many claim to still know me, so many have rested judgements by simply letting the words: "I can relate," from their lips. I hope that someone can, because through relating, there must at least be marginal understanding. My head has become a tangled web of ideas and concepts, lies and truths, and desire. I always leave out the desire. I feel guilty for having it, for wanting more. Like Oliver Twist, I am constantly wanting more.
I was speaking with a dear old friend about the differences between comfort and happiness, and I have decided that although starkly different from one another, they are revolving on the same axis.
One will never be comfortable with at least a sizable pocket of happiness. One will never be happy without finding some sort of comfort. The world keeps on spinning quickly, and the longer I have stayed in one place the more clear it has become: Adaptability is the bridge between happiness and comfort. I would go on to hypothesise that if one has the ability to adapt, then one will always be open to both comfort and happiness.
The peril lies in over adaptation, a malady I feel I suffer from somedays. There is no variation, just the warm light of creature comforts provided through the painstaking task of repetition. The same keys in the same ignition, turning the same gears to move down the same stretches of concrete. The same foodstuffs to provide the same energy to tackle the same amounts of work. The same blankets in the same basement to provide warmth and security and a place to dream the same dreams.
Dreams of freedom encircle my head. I want to cut ties like the dumpster diving saviors on the north side of Des Moines. I want to be forced to migrate south with the winter trains, keeping the company of other lost souls on a back-track freight liner. These things plague my dreams, so I hope that they are one day coming. However, I know I will never leave the comforts. I know I will never give it all away.
What would I then be giving away? The American dreams of peace, calm, and prosperity that keep each and every individual bound to a desk, to a house, to a corporate structure with no hope of escape. I do want these things, at least I think so. I just no longer want any dark mornings where I can only think about the way we all scuttle around like bugs in a bowl, upside down on this only life sustaining planet.
Billions of people fighting for the same things, the same enlightenment, the same scrap of bread. There is so much hate, so much negativity towards our fellow man that sometimes I just want to stop and scream from the bottom of my lungs: Please just realize what you are doing.
Each man is an organism, the same as any other eukaryote, just a system of molecules working together, forming hydrogen bonds to accomplish shared goals and visions. There is no reason for judgement on such a process. There is only admiration for the incredible miracle of science that we all are. Trillions of individual atoms conspiring to draw a breath. Billions of cells working together to move us forward.
I hope that someday I can figure this all out, the way that life really works. Billions of people have been trying for thousands of years, but still, sometimes in those perfect late night comfortable drives home, I catch a glimpse. I almost see where I can cut behind the scenes and truly discover what is really pushing us forward.
Until then, I will let you know what I find. Right here.
There have been rumors around the mill that once you grow old, life just passes you by. I used to not believe, but more and more I am seeing the truth. The younger kids all know the hippest trends, the most inspiring music, and how to seem on the cutting edge. I used to be among them, however, too much time on the razor's edge will eventually get you cut.
I left the place of my youth prematurely, before I was ready. I ran north to lick my wounds and have seemingly found a place to stay. An area of adaptation that has turned and shaped me into an unrecognizable figure, only half resembling my past self.
Many claim to still know me, so many have rested judgements by simply letting the words: "I can relate," from their lips. I hope that someone can, because through relating, there must at least be marginal understanding. My head has become a tangled web of ideas and concepts, lies and truths, and desire. I always leave out the desire. I feel guilty for having it, for wanting more. Like Oliver Twist, I am constantly wanting more.
I was speaking with a dear old friend about the differences between comfort and happiness, and I have decided that although starkly different from one another, they are revolving on the same axis.
One will never be comfortable with at least a sizable pocket of happiness. One will never be happy without finding some sort of comfort. The world keeps on spinning quickly, and the longer I have stayed in one place the more clear it has become: Adaptability is the bridge between happiness and comfort. I would go on to hypothesise that if one has the ability to adapt, then one will always be open to both comfort and happiness.
The peril lies in over adaptation, a malady I feel I suffer from somedays. There is no variation, just the warm light of creature comforts provided through the painstaking task of repetition. The same keys in the same ignition, turning the same gears to move down the same stretches of concrete. The same foodstuffs to provide the same energy to tackle the same amounts of work. The same blankets in the same basement to provide warmth and security and a place to dream the same dreams.
Dreams of freedom encircle my head. I want to cut ties like the dumpster diving saviors on the north side of Des Moines. I want to be forced to migrate south with the winter trains, keeping the company of other lost souls on a back-track freight liner. These things plague my dreams, so I hope that they are one day coming. However, I know I will never leave the comforts. I know I will never give it all away.
What would I then be giving away? The American dreams of peace, calm, and prosperity that keep each and every individual bound to a desk, to a house, to a corporate structure with no hope of escape. I do want these things, at least I think so. I just no longer want any dark mornings where I can only think about the way we all scuttle around like bugs in a bowl, upside down on this only life sustaining planet.
Billions of people fighting for the same things, the same enlightenment, the same scrap of bread. There is so much hate, so much negativity towards our fellow man that sometimes I just want to stop and scream from the bottom of my lungs: Please just realize what you are doing.
Each man is an organism, the same as any other eukaryote, just a system of molecules working together, forming hydrogen bonds to accomplish shared goals and visions. There is no reason for judgement on such a process. There is only admiration for the incredible miracle of science that we all are. Trillions of individual atoms conspiring to draw a breath. Billions of cells working together to move us forward.
I hope that someday I can figure this all out, the way that life really works. Billions of people have been trying for thousands of years, but still, sometimes in those perfect late night comfortable drives home, I catch a glimpse. I almost see where I can cut behind the scenes and truly discover what is really pushing us forward.
Until then, I will let you know what I find. Right here.
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