GRRRRRRRRR!!!!

Anger is probably one of my favorite emotions. It inspires me to create. It inspires me to feel and to quietly sit with my emotions. I learn from my anger and I learn because of my anger. My vocabulary expands to new forms of the word with every hot breath I take. As each beat of my racing heart boils the blood passing through, I feel a sense of satisfaction. The psychologists will tell me otherwise as I read their little pop psychology articles on the inter webs. The long and short of it is: its okay to be angry. In fact, its probably a good thing every once and a while. Knowing when to let it go and when to let it go its course is the tricky position to be in. Tonight I am angry. I am angry at the people in my life who cause me frustration. I am angry at the people who are near my existence and don't take care of their pets. I am angry at the guinea pig who chewed my power cord. I am angry at the guy who blasted my emotional insecurities at the sunday funday brunch. I am angry at myself for not taking better control of my life and letting it get to the point of being older and incomplete. My dreams are getting away from me. I am angry at the people of the world for not getting along and I am satisfied that people will stand up for what they believe in. I am angry that when I get old, I am going to wonder if I did enough with my life. This anger is a good anger. It is the anger to take charge, to take back and to move on. So here is me moving on:

Hermits have better skills

Is it true? As a socialite I realize I often have more on my plate than I can handle. It distracts me from harnessing my talents and skills into something better. Feeling as if I am pulled in too many directions leads me little time for myself. Unless its those late night hours where I sit and type. There is a strength in being alone for periods of time. So here I am alone in my room at 1:49 am on a Monday. I am rewarded with peace and quiet to sort out clarity. There is a knowledge of being punished with exhaustion and blessed with the ability to take a long nap in the middle of the day. The anticipation of the nap is an issue. As a believer in the model of expectations are bad ideas, I hate the bad decisions I make to get me to this point. The drinking coffee late at night. The pulling all nighters to complete tasks of ambivalent natures is a gamble. But what is one to do? After many great thoughts and many bad ones, I decide to write. It is my clarity it is my strength. It is the way I hermit myself and hone my craft to something I can one day not be too shy to share with the world.

law school is not an option

I realized, no matter how much I like politics and laws, I don't have the ambition for law school, graduate school yes, law school no. This quarter has been an emotional roller-coaster and maintaing the one law class allowed me to have a saving grace from economics, work and a chaotic home life. As the end of my quarter comes closer, as much as I love the treaties and the debates, its application is more of the interest. Perhaps I should follow the footsteps of the caped crusader. Too bad even lawyer money won't afford me that.

Uh-oh! No more Earmarks.

In the emerging truth before business as usual policies of our heavily religiously influenced government, what seemed to be a good thing actually appears to have the potential to do some great damage.

Half way through my term of studying political economic theory, I see the effects of incentives everywhere I look now. (Its amazing how things can quickly become visible when you are aware.) But last week the earmarks ended. Earmarks are fuel for personal incentives. Sometimes they are influenced by lobbyists, sometimes they are done by ideologies. What is amazing, is the application that self interest has on the greater good and positive movement ideologies. Can some economic losses can lead to long term stability?

When people go after their own needs it can provide something good, like in some earmarks. Granted we have to live within our means, but come on, an earmark to support women shelters can't be a bad thing, right? Perhaps we should have controlled them instead of dismantling them. But I suppose its too late and I have little to no power to do anything at this point. Looking at everything in government as a dichotomy can be dangerous, I know I can be guilty of it. I am seeing my own biases leaning me to believe the Tea Party only has two words "Right" and "Wrong."

My Life

On a scale of 1 to 10 I am an 8 on the happiness scale. While there are always improvements that can be made, I have to say I am moving in the right direction. Sometimes, my house isn't the cleanest, but I get to it when I can. Sometimes I don't have time to work out, but I am still pretty active. Sometimes I don't have time to see my friends, but we still love each other. Sometimes, I just breathe.

Helping to save the world creates moral dilemmas

As I learn and am surrounded by amazing brilliant people from other cultures, many refugees, I realize the further I go down the rabbit hole, the darker it gets.  Sometimes we aren't meant to fit in there, sometimes the hole is a cave not meant for us.  While I see many events I call tragedies I worry about my desire to help without interfering in the autonomy and becoming a debbie-do-gooder-know-it-all.

I believe in an altruistic goal that I know will never be satisfied.  Its a problem to have a conscience in todays western society.  We think, we as Americans know what's best for everyone.  I was raised with this paradigm.  Raised with the ideology that I need to help the world.  Fix their problems.  Running around so many years echoing not what this world can do for me but what I can do for this world.  Perhaps as a capitalist I should think of how managing my own incentives may end up with the best results for me, those around me and even the potential to impact those far away.

I dislike this realization.  I dislike being through off a path I had so clearly been set on for so many years.  Getting older, people aren't supposed to change, they are just supposed to grow.  The problem with age is that you really do know less as you get older.  I know that much.

its cold in my bedroom

Its cold here, I cuddle up with a cup of tea and a book of old teachers, long past dead before I could utter a word.  She sleeps at my feet, keeping my legs warm, leaving a fur blanket a top of the duvet cover.  I wear my sweatshirt and pants and wish my cup was still warm.  I wish for many things, some to come, some to dream.  In less than 24 hours I have no more excuses.  The year is gone, I don't remember my goals, my lists, my tears, except two.  The two I shed for a lover.  More than I said I would, but it happened.  I stood in my kitchen and they trickled down, and when I was left without a friend.  People move on, but some remain in the heart.  I think of the quiet pleasant house I used to live in with him.  While I am happy for his move, I remember when he left, packed everything up, and I shed a tear, maybe two or three or four.  At least one for me, at least one for the house.  I know he will soon be two and then three, maybe even four.  It is approaching July faster than I am ready.  July will be warm.