The Age of Faces

OK, so I've started another blog.  I'm not going to share the address because I kinda want it to be like a private online journal, except I've put no restrictions on it so really, it's public.

It's quite liberating, though.  I'm incorporating this idea that was inspired by a YouTube video.  Some dude had a video that was basically a buttload of pics of himself, one taken every day for like 3 or so years.  It was pretty cool.  So I decided to make one blog post every day and include a pic of me from that day.  Like a visual journal.  To see how the events of the day have affected me, as expressed through my face... and to see how the impacts of those events accumulates over the years.  Not sure how long I will keep it up but I think it's a good process for me right now.   

Sketchy

Done in literally, 6 seconds.  Yet it oddly resonates with me.

Moods App

I just downloaded this app called "Moods". You pick a mood face like the one below, every day or whenever you want to make an entry. Then you can also enter a reason for why you feel that way.

It's an easy way to track your moods and daily thoughts without any pressure. It's just another step in my long overdue attempts at documenting my life, possibly for later analysis.

it's probably not as bad as it sounds...

Today, the weather is making allowances for what would otherwise be "unspeakable grief".  It is like a warm mother holding me in her arms and whispering "let it out, my child, let it out...".   And I really want to.   

I woke up this morning with a deep, dismal groaning inside me.  It roused me from sleep by twisting my guts with a slow and methodical pace.  I imagine it's the type of feeling one experiences when waking up on the first day after an apocalypse.   That hopeless desperation that chokes what should be a scream or a wail.  The aimless but frantic roaming of the eyes as they dart across as many points as possible looking to cling to the first thing that makes sense.

The sky is leaky and a monochromatic gray.  No matter how much it releases, it is still full.  Stuffed with fluffy matter stored up from an unknown place.  And I'm not certain how mine got full either.  But it is.  And it all needs to come out.   

But how?  Despite refreshing my approach to blogging, I'm still at a crossroads when it comes to displaying emotional vulnerability in a public place like this.  It's not to deny its existence because we all have it but there is a time and place for everything.  Maybe I'm just not ready.   But I will get it out somehow.   I have to.  Otherwise, it will totally demolish me. 

I'm also about three days away from the part of my cycle that begins and ends in bloodshed so I should probably factor that in, too.

Beef Stew: Accomplished!

Every "serious" blog post, I believe, should be followed up with one of little consequence.

With that in mind... I MADE BEEF STEW!  Yup, my mama's beef stew.  The kind I adored and would beg her to make when I was younger.  It was always such a long process and it would seem like she was slaving over it the whole day.  That could partly have to do with the fact that she had to use Vishnu like tactics to keep her 5 kids in check while concocting this meal but it was always well worth it.

So now I've officially made it and I have to say it tastes pretty darn close to hers.  She must've handed down some good genes to me.  Her detailed instructions didn't hurt either.

Thanks, Mom!  I love you :)

A Passing Thought about Shame & Money

I work with filthy rich people and modestly lower class people.  For the last week, someone at my job has had to take the bus to work because they can't afford to pay the mechanic bill and have their car released.

Meanwhile, there are VP's that have multiple houses, cars, children left unattended.  The American Dream, if you will.  And though they're easily making 6 figures, they try their best to stay grounded and in touch with "the little guy".  They do a decent job of it, too.  In fact, one of my bosses drives a Ford Freestyle that I have yet to see clean.  It draws little to no attention because it's not much to look at.  I'm sure this is intentional and is probably the least expensive of all his cars.  I respect that he sacrifices affordable luxury for utilitarian simplicity all for the sake of being more accessible.  I have even wondered if these financially blessed people are ever ashamed of their wealth while they are among the skilled laborers in weathered construction vests, or while talking to foreman who give off that special hint of something extra as they pass by. 

After thinking about it for a bit, I came to this simple conclusion:

People should never be ashamed of how much money they have or do not have.  What is worthy of their pride or shame is how they received what they have, be it riches or poverty.

Holy Smoke!

Don't worry, don't worry. I'm ok.

But geeez. Looks like the L O S T monster that we haven't seen in 3 seasons.