I am afraid that I owe an apology; an apology to myself, as it were. And as I am grateful to have you all support an idiot Autism diagnosee, I do know that many of my prior posts and entries have been far below reproach. Thus, if I have ever said or written anything offensive, aggressive or down right mean, I apologize. Right before I came into work today, it was God influencing my heart and basically giving me the rundown (like always) of what he truly expects of me–despite how unimaginably infantile I have been and still am, in many ways though not ALL.
‘Why the formalities?’ I ask myself. ‘Why the suit? Why the professionalism? Why the desire to write, learn, teach, perform et cetera et cetera et cetera?’ Concordantly, God asks ME: ‘Why are you still holding on to your childhood illusions? Why are you retaining infantile ways of “thinking”? Why do you oppose being an adult in place of holding on to things that just hold you back? Why bother wanting to grow up when you wont will yourself to grow out?’
It gets worse: I know what happens when I, or anyone for that matter, procrastinates or puts off until tomorrow what could not only get done today but right this very second. Instead, I watch YouTube, stare at pictures of memes or what have thee or just stare into space faking a response of ‘gathering my thoughts,’ to someone’s walking-by inquiry of “what’s up?” Moreover, I know how it FEELS, most importantly, when things are put off, when they don’t get done and also how it feels rushing at the last second to complete them. Perhaps we can ALL relate to an infamous date in the U.S. known as April, 15: infamous for I refer to it as American Procrastination Day, or the APD.
Nevertheless, every now and again–which is not commendable at all–I do “get things done” as it were. I truly take the step to be proactive and jump on a situation and resolve its matter before it ever has time to matastisize into a quite aggressive metaphor of cancer known as procrastination and neglect. I know the absolute bliss of just getting it f*&*ing done! I just revel in the nirvana of sitting back with my wine whilst watching Stranger Things with my wife or, for me, Peaky Blinders, and just know that nothing lingers above my head that I haven’t already taken care of; to sleep at night knowing that “it’s done!” Ergo I had always asked myself, “why, David? Why, in the name of God, if being responsible, being your fabled “adult” and all otherwise every single character from every single movie you’ve ever admired for their diligence, their professionalism and all attributes which make a king makes you feel ten times a king, nay, an emperor of nations, why do you resist the responsibilities with instant gratification; why do you hesitate then subsequently neglect everything to the point of last-minute panicking? Why won’t you just do it?!” And this is the answer, which is most resoundingly NOT ‘I don’t know’. Why? because I can feel good NOW by not doing what doesn’t feel good even if it makes me feel REALLY good later. And because I don’t have the good feeling NOW, I am disillusioned by the lie in myself that it will never come. Thus, I am led to an instant gratification which is, at best, hollow, brief, empty, superficial and all otherwise hopelessly addicting and utterly destructive. Furthermore, the deeper into procrastination and irresponsibility I trap myself into, the greater disinclination I have to accomplish anything at ALL; making my misery and depression all the more bitter which necessitates a furtherance of the instant gratification-drug of all manner of forms and functions, because the burden of the “debt” placed upon my head and shoulders bears far too great a weight for regulation and my conscious will simply “gives-up”. I am only goaded into reality by extreme acts of discipline which, in their radical nature, feel so unimaginably bad that it would only come to an utter form of suicide in my thoughts and reasoning to truly pardon my body, mind, heart and soul from what would be therein classified as chronic agony and endless torture.
So, how do I fix this? How can I or ANYONE get over their bad habits, pull themselves out of some rut and, even by sheer will, come out on top of all these responsibilities? The truth is, is that I have absolutely no idea. But before such a disheartening statement plagues me or anyone reading this with such melancholy, perhaps the sheer notion that such a thing weighs upon my shoulders so heavily that, in order to overcome such a great yoke, I must begin to change the way I think about it.
I really liked that scene in the Matrix as Neo walks into the Oracle’s apartment and he encounters a young boy bending spoons. Even I, as a viewer, immediately noted in my psychology the plethora of points behind the impossibility of such a phenomenon; especially personified so paradoxically as a young and seemingly weak boy. As Neo observed the child bending spoons with only what appeared to be the will of his mind, or what have thee, the boy handed Neo the spoon and spoke quite precociously for such a young boy, as it seemed. “Do not try and bend the spoon,” said the boy. “That’s impossible.” Note the use of the word ‘impossible’ in its implied usage as if to say to Neo and ESPECIALLY me in the audience ‘nothing is impossible. You just have to look at it from a different point of view.’ “Instead,” began the boy once more whimsically and philosophically, “only try to realize the truth.” “What truth?” said Neo as engaged to what the boy was saying as he was perplexed that such wisdom came from someone so young. “There is no spoon,” said the boy. I love how the revelation of what the boy referred to as ‘truth’ struck Neo so much, for the paradox lied in the very fact that, well, Neo was HOLDING the spoon! The boy continued: “Then you will understand that it is not the SPOON that bends, it is only yourself.” Wow, I’m going to just jump right into the analogy.
Don’t try to carry your weight of responsibilities all on your shoulders; don’t try to bear it on your back; don’t think that this is something that has to be carried, moved, manipulated, accomplished, worked on et cetera et cetera et cetera. That’s impossible! I cannot any more get the car washed, do the groceries, pay my bills, go to work for 8, 9 and sometimes 10 hours whilst still going home and not forgetting my wife’s berries and water from the market she requested AND remembering the card for “Uncle Bob’s” birthday that is this Thursday which we cannot even make because my wife just had a doctor’s appointment which inhibits her from going outside for about a week. Nor can I remember to e-mail this person to officially change our already canceled appointment which, when it comes, necessitates an hour long drive whilst still remembering that the car needs gas AND new tires; especially before the holidays: Christmas shopping…. I cannot bend a spoon. No one can bend a spoon. If you try to bend the spoon, you may succeed. But, it might hurt. You might not be strong enough. You might damage someone elses good spoon. You might not even have hands or arms to even DO it! Did I mention that the very spoon might not even be bendable; it might be made of plastic? Gold? Paper? Or just on a computer screen? How are you supposed to bend a spoon on a computer screen when you cannot even reach out and grab it?
Okay, analogies and metaphors are over. What does the spoon represent? The spoon represents EVERYTHING that is us. If I have 32 things that must be finished or accomplished today, or rather, 32 things that may not necessarily need to be done today but can and should, then the spoon are those 32 things. If I have to drive a truck 100 miles across California to make a deliver then drive all the way back only to do it again tomorrow, then the spoon is just that. If I have to eat a sandwich, soup with water and coffee for lunch elapsing my break in a matter of 60 minutes before I return to my desk, then that is the spoon. Ergo, I feel that if I just looked at my life and what it is and what I have to do as a simple EXTENSION of myself in which I may do WHATEVER I please with it–similarly to the way I move my fingers, open my mouth, adjust my glasses, write/sign my name for a check–then I’m not carrying a burden at all; I’m not lugging around a huge trunk of junk or baggage; I have no yoke: it’s just me, “there is no spoon.”
Devil’s advocate: “I hate it! It feels like crap! I hate having to pay bills, be responsible and sacrifice some down time of relaxation and pleasure for some stupid and potentially meaningless duties!” And if I had to carry around a metal ball that weighed 1000 lb’s everywhere I went, I’d be very pissed, too. “My baby wakes me up in the morning and through the night and, even though my wife and I take turns, I have no sleep. I’m tired. I need a break. I need rest!” I would be tired, grumpy and in need of great rest if I too was carrying a 1000 lb metal ball everywhere I went.
“…it is not the spoon that bends, it is only YOURSELF.” Perspective is everything. Perspective is everything. The way you perceive something dictates all for which you react and function accordingly. The way something looks to you is exactly the truth of your subjective mind and not objective reality. An apple can look super delicious on the outside yet be totally rotten on the inside. A book may truly have 2000 pages, yet each page could be blank unless you opened the book to read it and find out. About 1500 people died on the sinking of the Titanic which was a tragedy. Yet dozens of lobsters lived a long life that would have not been so were it not for the sinking of the ship. To them it was a miracle. A farmer’s prize horse ran off into the fields and did not return, but he didn’t believe in luck, even though the villagers consoled him on his rotten misfortune. Then, the same prize horse found its way back to the farm with three other horses in toe ready to be tamed and added to the surplus of the farmer’s animal livestock. But, the farmer didn’t believe in luck and acted casually about the albeit good fortune whilst the villagers congratulated him on his luck. Then, a little later, the farmer’s eldest son was thrown from one of the wild horses whilst trying to tame it and severely broke his leg in three places. His son would be incapacitated for weeks and bring the farm back in its service and production. But, the farmer didn’t believe in luck and whimsically brushed the event away even though the villagers morosely swooned over his down-hearted situation (even though the farmer was not in any way down-hearted). Two days later the king’s soldiers came into the village and began ruthlessly drafting young men for the war effort which was obviously not going well. When the soldiers came to the farmer’s plantation, the farmer was too old, his youngest son was far, far too young and his eldest boy, the most ideal, was severely injured, so they passed on. The villagers, many of whom would never see their sons again, fell in arms about how lucky the farmer was. “I don’t believe in luck,” said the farmer, listlessly.
How do I fix my bad habits? How can I get over procrastination and start behaving proactively? How do I become more responsible? How can I shed my childish ways and start getting my foot out of my mouth and head out of my…. Well, if there really is no spoon, then there are really no bad habits for me to shed. I’m still trying to bend the spoon myself, when such a feat is impossible. Instead, I’m going to begin to realize the truth that there is no spoon for me to bend, there is no burden for me to bear and the only hardships and “lack of pleasure” I receive is ALL self inflicted. I suppose another way I can put it is like an airplane: a plane cannot fly any more than a washing machine. But, with the right wing-span and velocity and usage of aerodynamics the literal air in the, well, AIR will lift the plane up. All we have to do is move forward and let everything take care of itself. You could also say it has a lot to do with trusting in things that you cannot see; having assurity of things hoped for. And there is certainly another word for this: faith.
I’m not God. Wait, actually, let me check…. Nope, not God. Because if I were God, if I were perfect or omnipotent or what have thee, then my foot would not have sunk into the water and I could snap my fingers (if that) and all my chores would be complete and I could play the violin better than David Garrett or Izaak Perelman (and have the wherewithal to know how to SPELL that guy’s name without having to Google it….). I’m also going to venture a guess and assume that you, readers, are also not God. And if that’s not your particular brand of Vodka–as in your not quite the God-believing type (which is all good, btw)–then you’re simply not all-powerful. No one is all-powerful and I implore everyone to stay away from those who claim to be so. Nevertheless, we still have this thing called life that looms around us all the time and drives us crazy. I know, because I was once so crazy and be-crazed BY life that I tried to kill myself–at least twice. Spent some time, two weeks total, in the loony bin, the funny farm or, to be politically correct, the place where people go who try too hard to bend the spoon.
This is by far the most difficult thing I can ever think of anyone to attempt to try and accomplish: to let it all go. To try and bend the spoon is as futile as trying to control and beat a running stream of rapid water into submission. You can either stay on shore (psychiatric ward) and do nothing and let the stream of life flow by as you do nothing, try to alter the very earth and cheat the water into a direction you want (criminality), actually jump into the flow of water but feel that you cannot control where you go, always bumping into rocks because your too confused with all the water and rapid and just want to scream (depression/anxiety/fear) or jump into the water and let the flow of the stream carry you as you look a little bit ahead and try to maneuver yourself from rocks and other obstacles, which you will sooner or later fail to accomplish; you might even get really hurt; you might even break a bone: you might even die! Good thing you have other people flowing through the water with you to help you out, right? I don’t think anyone can do this alone, though. So, if you think you have no one, or don’t want anyone, it’s not surprising that you might feel sad, lonely or overwhelmed; and still, that spoon you’re trying to bend. “I hate my life.”
Again, I’m not God. I fail, a lot. Even at grammar for which I am its worst Nazi and enforcer. I suppose this entry is entirely for me; as a sort of catharsis, which I am wholly grateful to WordPress and its liberties, therein. Yet, the thoughts running through my mind and my heart that try to adhere to its wisdom, while at the same time sticking to a state of humility that the wisdom I feel I possess is still a wisdom that is always building and working to become stronger and wiser, are thoughts and feelings hopefully that, as I share, might enlighten someone who goes through similar circumstances. Hopefully this helps some people, and at the same time cathardically gets out onto a screen–a public broadcast, indeed–my feelings and emotions that I might start to lift up myself and enlighten my soul, heart, mind and body to a state that I know for a fact will make me happier.
You know what REALLY makes life so fricken hard? What makes it so hard, at least to me, is when I see a prize, a goal, in the hands of someone else–their success, their fortune, their “joy” the very thing that they have that I want so badly! That I could be standing right next to my aspiration yet be so incredibly distant from it. It’s so discouraging also to see someone having what I want and also to have had the means and the resources to do it- like money. And time. Ugh, time…. Money…. Money…. I need more time…. I’m stuck. Yes, such a concept is why life, actually, more times than not kind of sucks. It’s as if the very thing we pray to God for, that we ask so pleadingly for, that we spend hours and hours, days, months and decades of hope, faith and even sacrificial work to try to achieve. Worst of all is that stupid down time; when we actually do have time and even money and resources to do something that would bring us closer to our dream and goal, we’re so discouraged, physically exhausted from work (usually blue collar) and with so many other things running through our mind like doubt, fear and frustration we fall into a very, very addictive substance, and it isn’t alcohol or cocaine or things like that. This addiction, this drug, this narcotic is by far more destructive, addictive and extremely hard to break from a habitual use. It’s a plague and an actual cancer of the mind and soul that I fear has been give too little credence over the importance of our world needing to overcome it and break it and, ultimately, eliminate its communicable infectious nature for every single person in the world; regardless of sex, age, nationality, religion, sexual orientation… anyone! This plague does NOT discriminate nor does it give mercy or grace: this cancer is the most ruthless killer of mankind and I would be willing to put such a theory into practical applications and scientific methods in order to prove it fact: the cancer is fantasy. Pure fantasy is so incredibly addictive. It releases you from so much pain that it’s a wonder no one has caught onto the genocidal phenomenon of chronic fantasization.
Have you ever day dreamed whilst at work? Have you ever day dreamed whilst in your car? Have you ever day dreamed, ever? Have you ever wished you were somewhere else and give anything to be there? Have you ever felt so incredibly depressed, anxious, overwhelmed or just plain miserable that it would seem your only sanctuary is an opiate you’ve feigned for yourself as helpful? (are you doing it now?) Maybe you lock yourself in a room and sit back and listen to music; great music and amazing works of melodiously masterpieces. But, YOU want to do that. Why are you spending so much time pawing after your idols and worshiping them instead of working to become that very idol for other people? Do you read a lot? And I mean A LOT; compulsively, anything and everything; nutrition facts to Milton; Stephanie Meyer to Geoffrey Chaucer; A Light in the Attic to Dante’s Inferno? To Tolkien, to Lewis, to Dostoevsky to Lacky to Rowling to Time to Newsweek to the paper to the subtitles to the…? Do you like sports? Baseball? Football? Hockey? Soccer? Winter sports? Summer Sports? NASCAR? Formula One? Cricket? Do you like to write?
No offense, I was talking to myself. I’ve probably sat and listened to more and watched in envy and lust far more concerts and interviews of famous writers that all that time fawning could have been used to market myself and expand my dream of becoming a writer and and musician/composer. *sigh* I need to get my act together. I need to start getting into gear. If I really want to reach my goals, I’ve got to truly work on it. And if I really want to work hard and long for extended periods of time, face failure like a man and move on, endure inconvenience and remove all false thoughts and FANTASY from my endeavors, totally, then it’s time to grow up. I am here. I am a married man with a wife and a good job. I have a dream of writing and composing and learning sign language (ASL) to help people and make more money and live in the country up north where its cooler and build a business based in the assistance for families and individuals with Autism; to provide resources, education, books that I further write et cetera et cetera et cetera.
So, how am I going to do that? I’m going to sulk at my desk here and stare at mindless YouTube videos during my lunch hour. And then, finally, when I get home I’m just going to eat a meal, be with my wife, watch a stupid movie, plan something out for a trip to Disneyland or something and then FANTASIZE with my spouse about our country home and the future and our ambitions. Then, after my shower, I’ll crawl into bed with my wife and fall asleep in moderate to high depression about all that I could have done this passing day… but didn’t. Then, I wake up and do it again and wonder why I feel so down, depressed and feel as though I’m a failure when, in truth… I am…. I try to bend the spoon myself; by myself; for myself… “There is no spoon.”
-The Giver of Words.
Postscript: Like always, here’s a link to my amazon page which has some of my literary and musical works for your consideration, and for your hopeful enjoyment. Also, I’m putting in a link to my YouTube channel below, also. Hope you enjoy some of my work. I’d like to point out that, viewing my YouTube channels myself, I can detect the amount of lacking effort I put into these videos. A couple of these videos, my music videos, I really do like. But, oh dear God, I could be giving you guys so much more and better work. Hey, I love all of you. I am so very thrilled and honored that I have even you guys who follow my blog. It’s so humbling yet fills me with such joy that my words–often not even edited and a mess of grammatical maelstrom–effects people enough that they like and even want to FOLLOW my blog. Me. A guy who was at one point in his life “sucking his thumb” in a psychiatric ward because he felt that he was not meant for this world; that he was an accident; a literal mistake. Now, he’s at a desk and takes phone calls to transfer around and inputs some vital numbers for very, very expensive and valuable cars. “He’s f^&*ing married?! And is diagnosed with Autism?” Thank you all so much. Even if I had just one follower, it would be far, far more than I ever expected anyone to ever give me. So, to give back, I’m trying to work hard and offer up what I can: whether its a literary work of fiction as enticing as the Lord of the Rings or Hunger Games, music you can relax in your car listening to or just some more of my WordPress posts and blogs. Anyways, God bless, love you all and keep going.