Sunday, February 28, 2010

For most it's just dishes

I think about lots of things. How's that for a bright statement?

Here's one thought I just had:

We personally think we are destined for something better than the average normal person. Or, rather, we think we deserve something better. Now that's our default setting. But what is the reality for 99.99% of us? A routine and regime of domestic chores followed by a routine and tyranny of working for money. That's it. Then it's sleep and back to it each and every day. We want out. There are those who will deny this. But deep down they would prefer to spend their time doing other than what they are currently doing. And that would be--- domestic chores.

Just look at how we start in life. We go to school and socialize. That's the sum total of our days. Domestic chores are left to the parents. To the teenager- dishwashing does not exist and if it does then it is so under sufferance.  It is only when we get our own place with our own responsibilities that the domestic chores thing takes over . And it is quite novel for a while--- until the rot sets in.

Anyway I'm not telling anyone anything new in this--- I'm just bitchin'---just because I want to. And I hope it doesn't upset your day. How can it? You have dishes to do.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Back on track

Getting older every day. Getting wiser too. That's the only good thing about it. I'm still kicking myself over wasted time. That's inevitable. I said getting wise but not wise. I just wasn't wise enough over my years to recognize when I was wasting my time or others were wasting it for me. If you can't do that then time is wasted in a very big way.

But I'm back on track. I going to stop bitching about things in my life and go ahead and do things but not bitch----- anymore. Oh fuck!!!! I was just biting down on some lovely crunchy toast and my top denture broke in half. Oh fuck!!!!! Forget it. I gonna keep bitchin'. This really pisses me off. And so does just about everything else for that matter. Ok. Being pissed off is normal. It's our default setting-----obviously. I'm not wise. I should've known that. I thought placid and quiet and happy and content and and and all that was our default but Oh No!!!!! Bitchin' is good. I'm gonna really get stuck into it now.

I will have to chew on one side till the dentist can fit me in and then wait for a month whilst they make a new set of teeth for me. I hate getting old. Lose all the stuff we want and grow all the stuff we don't want. At least I had my trusty Dremel to shape the broken bit of the denture into some kind of thing that won't cut the shit outta my tongue. I'm just gonna go sit in a darkened room for the rest of the day now--- life sucks-----sometimes.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Having no meaning

I'm going through a stage in my life where everything seems to be fake.( Everything except dishes of course). It's as if the words that come from my mouth have no truth to them after I have said them. I feel good with my thoughts when I am alone but when I talk with people they seem pointless, unnecessary and meaningless. Maybe I am experiencing opinion burn out? Everything has a feeling I have said it all before. I mean just look at the things we do for entertainment- haven't we seen it all before? Life is just like doing dishes. The old saying same bullshit different day expresses this little thought perfectly.

I just had a thought. Maybe I have been responding to the many silly little questions ( the ones that go "what did he mean"- "what did she mean" then "your so mean" type of conversations) posed by self absorbed morons for too long. Yep. Burn out-- that's it. I've spent so long dumb'ing down that I have dumb'ed down. The stupid questions have finally worn me down. One can only go round and round the same stupid questions from stupid people for so long only to end up collapsing into a state of absolute exhaustion. Burn out- yep that's what I've got. My fuse has finally set off an explosion of revulsion for stupid people who need answers to their neurotic and stupid questions about how they should feel about this person's statements or that person's looks and do I like,,, look good in this and all that useless crap. Gossipy crap-- I have played with gossip and it has come back to bite me--that's it. Everything we say is just gossip when we talk to stupid people.

Oh. I'm really on about stupid people in recent posts. Maybe I've just had enough of dealing with them--??? Gotta get some meaning back into these posts. When I first started I had heaps of interesting things to say. But my humour took a turn for the worse--this results from dealing with people who don't have a sense of humour about themselves. I have kicked one or two too many mines in being involved with one in particular and the damage is showing eh?

The thing that makes me feel really stupid  though is that I put up with it for so long. I was sucked in. These people are good at making one feel important.  Superior even. But in the end they bring you down. One's own superiority brings one down. Because you realize you ain't superior you are simply as stupid as the next person.  If you are a man you are vulnerable to that pretty face aren't you?---- Oh she is so pretty- she must be a great person and very intelligent too.------ No!!! It does not follow. And I have been so stupid that I have gone with that. That's it-- the reason my words seem so meaningless now----- is------because---- THEY BLOODY WELL ARE MEANINGLESS!!!! I'm stupid. Your stupid-- Everyone's stupid!!! Really.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Talking with the intellectually challenged

I know some people who just don't have the capacity for higher thoughts. yeah. I know. I'm a snob and all that. Yeah I know. This is not a politically correct thing to say in a modern, wimpy world. But I will burst the bubble here and say: Not everyone we know in our lives are bright. It does not mean that we can't love these rather stupid people. Many of them have wonderful characters and honest hearts. And imagine for a moment all those other wonderful motherhood statements I could make to help cover up the fact that I am about to bitch about stupid people.

Now in the middle of the night last night I woke up and thought this: Imagine if you were a comedian. You know-- you make your living as a person who tells jokes? Now imagine if you told your jokes and then had to explain each joke so that the person you were telling the jokes to could get it. How would you feel? Would you feel that the encounter was fun?--- enjoyable???. No!!! It would be a pain in the arse. And this is what it is like talking to less than bright people.

The result in conversations with people who are not too bright is that they go away feeling happy with a belief good conversation was had by all. But the poor soul who has had to endure spoon feeding them through the whole ordeal has endured a form of frustration only known to the comedian who has to explain his jokes before people get them.

Isn't that an interesting observation? Oh. I wonder if I am deluded myself in thinking I am bright. Apparently most men overestimate their intelligence. So I'm probably as stupid as the next man.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Keep 'em at a distance

Have you ever noticed that the closer you get to some people the more chaotic they get? It's like in physics. If you look out at the stars of a night everything looks so calm and peaceful. The night sky is so tranquil. But we know from physicists as we close in on the smallest of particles of matter on the quantum level, everything is observed to be chaotic. This is how some people truly are.

We can be friendly to anyone at a distance. We can be polite and warm to virtual strangers and both parties walk away from such light and fluffy interactions feeling nothing but good will towards the other. And then we have those nice people we bump into at social events. We don't know them at all really but we can engage in a friendly conversation or chit chat as we know it and feel really good afterwards.  Oh- such- a- nice- person- thing--- you know?

Then we come to the up close and personal types of friends we have. The ones we have nurtured over a long period of time and whom we really know and who also know us. we start off with these people on that warm and fuzzy feeling of growing friendship. We are polite and very nice to each other. Each of us can seem to be the perfect- do-no-wrong type of person. The sun shines out of us. Ahhh1 Wonderful!!!

But then somehow we get to know each other better and then things begin to fall into chaos. Now we run the risk of it all going to Hell. And many times it does do just that. People begin to notice the flaws rather than the initial good points in a person's character.

Well where am I going with this?  Maybe I could conclude that it is best to keep everyone at a distance. So why do we agree to get so close to people. In fact why do we yearn for it? We certainly are a difficult species to understand. The closer we get to each other the worse we are to each other. Stupid result eh?

When a friendship does go sour there are two things we can do. We can abandon it entirely-- as in divorce. Problem not solved just diverted. Or we can go back to the very beginning and start again. But usually the road goes to the same destination because once you observe a flaw in something it always remains noticeable.

When it's over----it's over-----

As in the words of Omar Khayyam:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
  Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
  Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Inspirational personalities

I have been given many a dressing down by a troubled woman who has been subject of a few of my posts here at overthinking. I must admit some of them have been less than charitable. I like to let out a fair bit here. You know- let go the reigns on good manners and gentility. In fact I like to be a grumpy old bastard from time to time. I like to actually lose my social conscience here- after all, in a polite society here is the only place this can happen. Who want's to be nice- nice-nice all the time? How boring do you find people who are like that.

No-one knows the identity of my subject. But she does and wow does it get me into trouble. I can understand this reaction from her completely. But to put a better spin on it all I would say this to her.

An artist is reliant on his subjects for inspiration. Writers need colourful characters in their lives in order to draw upon them for the various personalities in their book. Perhaps this woman should consider herself as part of my artistic inspiration. So instead of getting totally worked up and pissed off as she does after reading my posts about her she should see herself as a unique and interesting person who has inspired a writer to respond to her personality. And if it is not favourable well it doesn't matter. She should be like the movie stars. Their belief is even bad exposure is good publicity because it makes them larger than life and more interesting as a result. Also, she may consider (if she stopped reacting angrily all the time- something I doubt can happen) she is being given a window into how she comes across to another person. And isn't this a gift. People pay to visit shrinks for this purpose and she gets it here for free.

But I know she is so self defensive she will never agree to this. And the next time we have an argument she will whinge and complain about my nasty posts here. She is a true warrior. She will defend her character to her last dying breath. Poor soul. She hasn't learned the art of giving up on oneself yet. Funny though. We can see her as holding herself as totally precious or totally useless. Both apply equally. I wonder what she really thinks deep down inside. What is her inner voice saying to her all the time? Is it-- I am precious, I am good or is it I am useless, I am bad?

There is no answer to these questions. And the only solution is to stop thinking any kind of thought towards oneself and to think about others for a change. This works for me and this is why I write about her --- not me. But in the end I am writing about me. See how there is no cut and dry answer to anything. No wonder we are all a mess here on planet Earth. No answers- just more questions. Give up!!

Living as an artist.

Work. We all must work. Some get paid for it. Some don't. I do a lot of work. But I don't get paid for it. Now this may seem stupid. But the kind of work I do no-one pays for. This is because the work that I do has no value. When I say value I mean dollar only. In fact the work I do is priceless. But it is priceless because only I see the merit in it.

society sees me as a nothing. It sees me as one of those slackers who lives on a pension and just has fun all the time. I do not provide food and I do not deal with waste. These are the necessities of life. I do nothing that provides any kind of necessary production because Art is not necessary in the eyes of the wage earning public.

It's like house keeping mothers at home with their kids. Society sees them as non- workers so they are not paid yet they are excellent consumers because they have mouths to feed and needs to fill. But no-one pays them because it was their decision to go ahead and breed. It is not a paid career path. Sure they get government handouts but these would never go near the cost of the job they perform. Artists are below this even. Society sees them as people who are just preoccupied with their own importance and people who just want to play their life away doing trivial and unimportant things. Goodness that was all over after kindergarten. It's kid's stuff.

Funnily enough though I have survived and so do millions of other mothers and artists. Somehow we get through and live a very good life. I know I have.

And what this all comes down to is the fact that we agree to do the dishes every day of our lives. Plus we do everything for ourselves. We don't hire people to do these things for us. We don't pay people who are seen to have a meaningful career to come and do  the meaning ful things in our homes. We do them ourselves. So we do meaningful things because society refuses to accept to pay for the meaning less stuff we do we do the meaningful stuff for ourselves . So you see artists do do meaningful things they don't just dont get paid for it. They do the dishes themselves and all the other meaningful things.

We simply decide this: Pay someone to do the things we need to do whilst we go and do the things someone else needs us to do or do those things ourselves and also do what we need to do ourselves. But all this does not put money in the bank. We know we can't survive without money because we cant provide everything wee need in our lives like food. If we truly wanted to do everything for ourselves then we wouldn't have enough time to do what we need to do. So again we rely on some other person to see that what we do has value and meaning and will part with their money to prove that.

See it's all very simple. Though from the way I have described the whole thing here it seems not. That's because I am confused and that's really the reason I am an artist. I am totally confused and don't understand the importance of doing something other than art if I want to survive. All I can say is I am lucky enough to have a totally screwed back which renders me incapable of digging ditches and brick laying and such. You see this proves that there is a God and He is merciful. How's that for logic?

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Hand me that put down right now

I'm going to have some fun with this post I tell ya.

When I was young ( and before you think it--" old line from an old bloke"-- I know I know-- but wait) When I was young only a few years back, I thought I was king of the castle. Sure I had the usual insecurities but I had some solid high scores up on the board in the game of mating. Since my teenage days I had scored some mighty attractive women. On a scale of 10 most were well up in the high 8.5's. No fatties, no plain janes-- you know-- some fairly fab specimens amongst the female of the species. Most of my life I put this type of success down to luck mainly. I believed I was no hunk of the type women would cream themselves over. But I also believed I must have had something going for me or these pretty women would not have looked sideways at me. Anyway - you get the picture--- moving on--

And so it was that I fell into a sort of happy haze of security and confidence in my long marriage of 24 years. The attractive wife would never stray thought I, because I was confident in my merits- though as I said I didn't really know what they were. All would be good. And to compliment this illusion I had somehow managed to collect a quasi harem. I had three, count them, three extremely attractive blondes, yes blondes, as my closest mates ranging in age from mid 20's to mid- 40's. I remember sitting in a spa with my harem of 4 blondes ( my wife was blonde too) thinking who needs to be Hugh Hefner- I've got it all-- and I don't even have any money. They all love me for being just me. Surely you can see how a man would feel pretty damned confident in himself- couldn't ya?

Lets just cut to the near present- some 3 years ago. There used to be this little odd character who visited our place. I could always tell when he came in the front door because his smell arrived before he did. I mean it-- he was truly on the nose. He was an Israeli guy who spoke a sort of English---sort of. He had a really big nose and very deep set black eyes. Looked a bit like the biblical Satan if you can imagine. He had male pattern baldness but had held onto his long hair. So you see it-- a bald dome poking out of salt and pepper thin long hair- smelly unwashed long hair-- all this topped off with a woolly beard that could have had anything living in it alongside him except they probably had multiple legs and antenna. The way he acted though- he could have had these things -- he was sorta like a guru E.T. type. Think Rasputin the mad monk maybe?. He dressed in the gaudiest old clothes, bordering on rags and sometimes wore ladies woollens, sweaty old baseball hats with Makita emblazoned on them-- must have got them off the brotherhood bin or something. All in all- his physical appearance was not too good- I think you can gather that. And the cheese had certainly slipped off his cracker in the head stakes - he followed some nutty women who channelled a 35000 year old warrior- yep he was a trainwreck-- I reckon--- don't you?

Anyways-- he is the man who relieved me of my pretty little blonde wife of 24 years. Of all the men who visited this place- she chose him over me.

Yep. It's always the one you least expect.


Come to the present day:

I'm off blondes. My beautiful girlfriend of today is a raven haired beauty. I still have a few of the stragglers ( blondes) hanging around--- sort of-- dunno why but can't be too cosmetic here can I? They will drop off over time. One did shortly after the break up- she was the one who said if my wife left me she would always be there for me-- Ha Ha. Another one is on the way out as we are seeing less eye to eye as time goes on. In fact talking with her is becoming like a dance in a minefield- she is a real pain I tell ya. And the remaining one is a busy cougar. She gets those cubs too probably because she looks pretty good ( in the dim light of clubs that is).

But just where am I going with this expose?

Well I was thinking today. I was handed the biggest put down a person can get. You can't imagine worse. Dumped and dumped for a troll. I survived-- ego intact. How? That is a whole other story. Then I thought about those people I know who spend their whole time protecting themselves from such a put down. There are many of them. They go to all extreme measures to protect themselves. Their fragile egos are constantly in need of a boost and I am usually the one delivering it. They are so precious you see. They are so beautiful-- aren't they? They are so sensitive. they are so depressed. Don't hurt them they simply can't take it. They whinge and whine and constantly fish for compliments and support. Life is too hard for them. More so for them than for anyone else they keep telling me. They are really struggling just to cope. They are really really on the edge- so don't push them----- And never--- never ever---never never never NEVER--- hand them a put down--- they just can't take it.

Bloody wimps!

A good put down is the very thing they need. It would get them over their fear. They need to face it. I have never felt clearer or better since I had my grand put down.

But you can talk to these bleating bleeding hearts till the cows come home--- they will still spend their whole time in self preservation mode. Wimps!!!! Bloody self absorbed wimps!!! God help them when they are old and ugly-- I won't.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Playing with a wasp nest.

Occasionally for thrills a good old wap wap on the side of a wasp nest can bring in some much needed excitement.

I know this little wasp. She is a sweet little thing, or so she would have me believe, and I get some good miles out of an odd challenge or two. I think she is also part fish coz she bites every time too. It's a simple matter of putting out a small tracer shot, like a semi-confrontingl observation about her various little quirks ( of which she has many) and away we go. Hold on! The ride can be rough but it's exhilarating.

Then it's simply a matter of playing the line and the fight is really on. You see- she has to have the last word. And she has to get the conversation to a happy outcome. In other words she has to hear what she wants to hear before she can let go of the conversation. It is a nerve racking experience as she goads and cajoles me along towards her desired goal which is to say exactly what she wants to hear.

You see. She really is a spoilt brat. She has the pretty face and she thinks it will allow her to be bad mannered--- whatever she feels like being in fact- and the good ol' fellah will just end up saying exactly what she wants to hear. Well this time- I ain't doin' it.

The wasps are out and flying around and they have been for a week now. This time they can bloody well stay out. I'm hiding happily in my safe place. And I know her probing eyes will be peeping around this blog site and I know she will be looking for that one about her. And here it is---little wasp

Enjoy it.

I am

And you make everything to do with you-- even when most of the time it isn't--- well this one is all about you. Do you like it?

Keep on snooping from time to time-- you may find I've got a few more barbs pointing in your direction. This is what you want isn't it? You know. Attention ----at any cost.

But now you're in my wasp nest-- feel the sting.

Monday, February 15, 2010

I'm a happy valentine

Being an artist means one thing--- no money. I can understand and accept that. But, oddly enough, we are provided with other wonderful things to make up it seems.

I have been so lucky in the matters of the heart. Several wives have kept me topped up with happy emotions over my life--- no not all at once---and I haven't really felt the lack of big money because I have had other things in my heart. It must be awful to live for money. I get the feeling there are a lot of people who do. Well, most people seem to if consumerism is anything to go by.

My beautiful partner gave me the best written card I have ever received for Valentine's yesterday. It stated all the thing about me which, though maybe not true, stated the way I wished to be seen by her. And that would be-- as a good and caring partner and friend.

Yep. I'm going to see myself from her point of view and live up to that. It should keep me as a good and caring partner. If I behaved the way my nasty little demons work my mind, as we all do, then I would be a total ratbag. Luckily I don't believe those nasty little demons--- or those people who seem to think poorly of me at this time. I'm a happy Valentine.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

I can't break through the wall of words

I was reading the posts of one of the resident (paid) bloggers on the Age site this morning and I came to a realisation. He is writing about the stuff I am writing about. Bastard!

Now I know the problem with the internet. And it is getting worse all the time now that social networks are the popular choice for people in getting those words out that are caught in their heads.

But it is even worse out here in the organic world. We talk and talk and talk. No-one listens but everyone talks. They want to let it out but not take it in. Why? I know why. Deep inside we want to feel pertinent. We want to amount to something. we want to be valid in an irrelevant society. Simply put; we don't want to be a nobody.

So where does this leave your not-so- humble overthinking man? In a word---- unread. I don't rate amongst the storm of opinions. And this is a good thing. It let's me know that I am not so great as I think I am in my head. I am not important, in the least bit, in real terms. I, like everyone else, am defined only by my loved ones. Those close to me who do actually listen to my words and whose words I actually listen to in return. I can write all the greatest observations in the world here on the overthinking blog-- but very few will read it past the first few sentences. It's not important enough- they have bigger matters to surf onto. And the lesson is: To live a satisfying and worthwhile life we must keep our mind close to home.

There nothing funny in that. I'm getting bloody preachy again---it's a really bad habit. But it's me and some people actually preach for a living don't they so I'm allowed to be amateur. Aren't I?

Monday, February 1, 2010

The maze

I lasted 3 days but there is always something to over think about. This one's about the total waste of time many conversations we have with people turn out to be.

Talking with people is like going on a journey together.  It's like we travel along a long and winding road sharing our sandwiches. We enjoy the comments along the way and all is good----- for a time. But, sometimes, many times in fact, somewhere along the way, one of talkers like walkers steps in a hole in the road or gets a stone caught in their shoe or some other kind of annoyance happens to one or other of the travellers. This is what causes a fork in their road. Many times, one of the travellers will turn to the other with anger, blaming their companion for the annoyance though they are in no way responsible of course. The nature is to blame someone. We have to let it out don't we? But the anger brought on by the discomfort causes an effect. And the effect is not always good for the two travellers on their road together. Thus the destination is lost. Because they have turned on each other the whole point of the journey has been abandoned. And so the two travellers take on a third companion- scorn.

Scorn towards each other causes the whole journey to turn from a joy to a trial of discomfort. And then the paths they take from this point on turn into a maze. And this maze takes an age to navigate.

And then many times after they have finally navigated the maze and found their destination it turns out that their whole journey was one big circle that contained twists and turns and forks, but because they stumbled into the maze they ended up exactly where they started in the first place.

And this is how it goes with many conversations particularly with those whom are not really matched to us as a travelling companion.

We must be careful who we travel with. And if we find that every time we go on a journey we end up back at the same place after much discomfort, well------ that person is not a good travelling companion.

And this is the answer as to why we can make friends, marry partners, engage with all kinds of people in relationships for a time---- but --- we may find the path we travel is abandoned after a certain amount of time.

Obvious when put like this isn't it?

But if you are like me---we keep going with people who are simply not right as travelling companions. And we try and make it right----- but it never is.

It's a long and winding road-- that leads to your door.