People place too much of an emphasis on a person's abilities.  Stripped of all that, what importance do they retain?  Is there nothing to be said for their sense of humanity?  Does that not suffice?

The Art of People Watching

Today he was wearing a shirt that read, "Solstice is the reason for the season". 

He, being the SD hoop guy.  He was smiling with his typical small crowd of onlookers and a few that were hula hooping.  I watched as he beckoned passerbys in his usual carefree manner to participate.  

I'd seen him a few times before, even hooped with him once.  I said hello to him again, although I knew there was no reason to tell him I knew him.  Once when I talked to him two days in a row and said so to him, he replied with, "Sorry, I'm an old man I don't remember things too well anymore." 

Today, he taught me a trick.

I asked him why he loved hooping so much, and his response surprised me. 

"I don't, I hate it."

"Why do you do it then?" I inquired.

"I do it for my daughter."

Essentially I learned that his hooping career originated in honor of his daughter, a professional hooper (didn't know that was a thing) whom he hadn't seen in 30 years.  Whether he did it in order to gain her acknowledgment from afar or to attract her attention so that she might come visit him again, I will never be entirely sure.  Perhaps she was angry with him, perhaps she merely didn't have the time for his antics.  Although I felt a mixture of sympathy and sadness for him, I could see he wholeheartedly appreciated the delight he brought to others.  He cheerfully told me how he was able to help a girl missing an arm as well as an autistic boy learn how to hula hoop earlier that day. 

I am always curious as to how he survives.    Never does he ask for donations, as he prides himself in offering the only place one can hula hoop for free at.  I don't get the feeling that he has a family supporting him and his brain seems to be mostly fried by drugs or whatever at this point. Yet he truly does have a gift for bringing joy to strangers and I see the community he draws in around him that may be the closest thing he has to a family. 

Talking and hooping with him reminded me of my intrigue for people.  I used to keep a record of my observations every time I went to this particular coffee shop because I knew I was bound to see or talk to someone of interest.  I could always tell which ones were travelers and which ones were locals.  Other instances with strangers stick out to me as well.  I still remember the conversations I had with the drunk Irishman at the OB hostel who wanted to make a bean bag water slide all the way to the ocean, or the homeless man who in so many words asked to move in with me, or with the sweet Canadian girl in Santa Monica who also enjoyed making banana egg pancakes, or the many other people I have seen and never talked to that have merely impacted me from their outward appearance because I feel I can read their life story from the lines on their faces.  Today was a good reminder to look up; I never know what I might see or who I might talk to.

if only i could be content doing nothing.

Temporality

Clocks strike
rain falls
memories clear
a time long ago
careless in the field
time didn't matter
but
Clocks strike
time passes
memories left to linger
moments of simplicity
What is left?
Clocks
a reminder of time wasted
time dwelling
time long ago
bliss left with a strike of the clock
but memories haunt until the clocks cease

(14 yrs.)

Lies

I've come to realize that the majority of sin that I regret in my life have come from lies that I believed.  Whether they were lies that I told myself or ones that I've been led to believe, I still accepted them and allowed them to affect the way I thought and acted.  Often, I have found that the lie I believe the most is the one that tells me that I am not good enough.  That I am deficient, mediocre, and unwelcome because of it.  Another one is the fear that I will never experience the feelings that normal humans are familiar with.  That I am incapable of attaining certain forms of happiness, understanding, and emotion.  I try to conquer these lies and prove them wrong by searching in all the wrong places for answers that just end up hurting me.  Combined, these lies have led to one of my greatest regrets.  Even though what I did wouldn't be considered that big of a deal, to look at my decayed emotional state of that time is abhorrent to me.        

Captivate

Captured

Not in her eyes

Yet flowing through her mind

The chemicals

Billowing as harsh weather

Bouncing off drums (T@G)

Obliterate all attempts

There is no room for you here. (Double if not triple)

Tingling down the spine

To toes

That only a poet would know (16)

Warm the structure

Freeze all drive

Yet free the essence

The bird flew today.  (Symbolic)

MIC 201 - FQ 2014

The Over Examined Life

“The over examined life, Claire, it's not worth living.”

But to under examine, do you miss out on discovering things about yourself and your ideals?

Alternatively, can there come a point when too much self-enlightenment can become a hindrance?

Would Socrates look at Claire's example and agree or disagree?  I strongly relate to Claire at times, at her level as well as on a broader scale.  Naturally, the answer seems to be derived at a fine line.  If I was ever able to determine those fine lines, I'd have the solution to every mystery.