The Catch

So I started this blog to be a ... journal. Something I could look back on from the future and say "this is what I've done"... but the more I write and the more I see others write, the less I want to write.

Like my memories are somehow sacred. That I don't even want to share them with myself lest they loose that air about them. That if you touch a butterfly it cant fly any more making it just butter... (and butter is bad for you...) and yeah.

Working through that.

I just got back (like a few days ago) from Ninja Camp. (well... not really, but thats what I call it in my mind) and we really spent alot of time learning to be Now. which makes me not want to really want to reflect on things in detail. To experiance and let it pass through me so I'm open and ready for my next experiance.

This mode of thinking... while greatly increasing my memory and abilities, sorta limits my "writing motivation".

Because if I'm writing for myself and I suddenly don't want to reflect on what I've done... then I don't really need to write anymore.

.

But my fans are waiting for a performance and the show must go on.
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So during this ninja camp, I had spent alot of time with some very religious people. Funny that among the most deadly, you should find the people speaking the loudest for God and his ideals.

I came home with hymn's in my brain, singing them when not paying attention, saying prayers when I don't actively catch myself and thanking the Lord for things when they turn out.

Isn't this the pot painting the kettle black. Like seriously. I'm not this person.

After a few days of this, it appears to have mostly gone away... (thank God!) and my sense of identity returned to its normal place.

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I found myself having a brief snack before buying shoes today. Wondering about my place in the scheme of things.

That a really good friend of myne always says "it would just be so easy to have a piece of eyecandy, but my girl is real quality... she just doesn't look all that good" or something along those lines.

So I sat back and was like "how good do I have it?" and for once, I could not find a girl selected from the random populous (known as a food court) that I find more attractive from my brief glance than what I have in my life.

Yeah, I'm one of those guys that totally stereotypes the first few layers of self when he browses... and I really have a hard time finding girls that are compatable... but still... of 100 girls, myne won

Yeah me! (yeah, and I don't think she reads this... so no brownie points by saying so)