Thursday, January 05, 2006

First signs of all marbles Being, for all intents and puposes, haraaeko chaan (lost)

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UCK

So I finished the laborer interviews, and i Head to the NGOs... but they are all closed! without them i have NOTHING... do you understand... NOOOOTHING!

Phew... ok freak out over. So I'm gonna go what can only be identified as buckwild for the next 2 days hunting down anyone and anything that can slavage this project, but its about 80-90% a total waste of time. So, tomorrow night after I collect all the material and realize I have nothing worthwhile, I will develop a new topic, one to film in Kalimpong and I have a week to film it! I'll start on Monday and be doen by Thursday (yes, that is my definition of a week, and if you've ever been in Kalimpong you know that actually means like a month) So I am not worried about time... Khukuris, the agitation, topics abound... I just have to do it. So Am I freaking out? YES.
am I genuinely all that worried? NO.

Phew... Ok. Slight problem number 2: I've been walking on the sprained ankle from the river trip. I heard that was really bad, which is probably why it has not stopped hurting. Oh well. Nothing much more I can do eh? I'll take it ot he docotr when I get back so he or she can tightly wrap it and tell me that afer I'm 60 its gonna hurt like a motherfucker all the time and its all my fault that I am going to have an old age full of pain and suffering. I will gladly respond, and reassure him or her that I am not worried for I will not have an old age as I do not wish to have one, and one I have accomplished my career goals, raised my children, and traveled the world, once I begin to live uncomfortably with no home of recovery and only home of slow decay and misery, I have no moral, spiritual, social, or personal qualms with deciding that I have lived enough and I can depart calmly under the influence of a mild poison which I will give myself after writing a nice will, leaivng everything to the people I care about and leaving a few assholes with only my poop in a bag. I will donate my organs to charity, and I will be burned ritualistically so as to rejoin the earth very literally. And that will be the end of my consciousness for after we die there is nothing left of what I think of as "me" so I have nothing to fear. Nor will I feel bad or good about anything on earth, because there will be no me to feel anything. That wil simply be it. Hard to imagine yet comforting in many ways.

So it is ok. He or she will walk off silently with a look of utter bewilderment of with a new sense of self, more free from artificially created worries, and I shall sit there, happy with my wrapped foot, and maybe with a funny stick I have to lean on for a while and hop around on like a bunny or an injured dog.
Such is life.

Problem number 3: I was recently thinking about my plans for the future. They all seem really nice, drive across america, live in rome, volunteer and suffer for humanity in Kathmandu, probably travel through Asia then as well on free time times, return to america hopeful and ready for film school which i will pay for through loans and slave labor. Then off to seel my soul to the devil and make bad movies? good right? well I was just thinking about one small detail. The only small detail that is uniquely my problem and does not affect anyone I know. I have nothing but me in america... if my entire family moves to a different country, the small logicistical probelm of where the fuck do I put al my shit arises. Because across the years I have managed to amass quite a bit of shit, and while I could sell it all or give it to charity, that would mean that when i return I would have absolutely nothing, so that does not sound liek a good idea. For all intents and purposes the ideal would be to put it all into boxes, ship it home, put all the stuff at home that is mine into boxes, then store it in a closet where people can foget it exists til I come back and take it away 2 years later. When there is no place to do that to.. what does one do? I can't rent a storage space for 2 years... stuff would most likely be stolen and or break and be dmaaged beyond repair leaving me not with nothing but with a bunch of smelly rotten junk. You ask yourself, what do you have that is so important? I say nothing, but I say think about the closet of an apartment I will get myself when I return... the prospect of it being full of a hundreds of books, a small tv and some clothes, maybe a desk, a bookshelf and a computer... is a nice thought.. plus some bedsheets to sleep on with the lack of a bed or a matress... the thought of it being filled with, well... just me... and my potential rommates' stuff ... sad really.

Problem number 4: When your family lives in another country that is hard to call and get in contact with an things have to be done slowly because they arent in the smae place... SUCKS! just the simple mater of getting one's mail, or tlaking to one's parents, or pretty much anything simple or complex sucks. Its the same as having no one for the most part.

Problem number 5: I really have no desire to work in one job for 40 years, live in one place, have a family, a career, a a dog, and boring stability. I would probably drown myself out of bordom, or fake my own death and become a vagabond or a multimillionaire seraial killer spy for the government of a middle eastern/ southeast asian/ or in some feat of desperation even micronesian country. Hell i'd be a vatican spy or a spooky mystic for a while, just to aliviate the bordom. SImply I think I have 2 options, be really successful in film so I can fill the tedium with money and travel, or work in Europe every year for 6 months and travel til my money runs out and work again and do this until I am shipwrecked or taken away by alien lifeforms to see beauty of unknown and unimaginable nature.

Problem number 6: My greatest desire is to go to space, but my parents gacve me the recesses of the genes they had, and therefore I am not only not perfect enough to ever be an astronaut, I am probably too defecient biologically to be considered for plain pedestrain intergalactic travel. Plus it will probably take up to the time I am too old to go for it to be a normla practice. SO I have concluded that if someone invents a secret or illegal device to transfer one's consciousness to another body.. I am willing to sacrifice one of my children to a rapid death by switching my consciousness with theirs, thus grating them short years (very shosrt as so they don't talk I'll probbaly have to kill them) in my body, and me a whole new lifetime in their body. BRILLIANT!
Now we jjust need a mad scientist to perform the inventive part of the plan.

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