Boundless

If you are nothing,
Then you can be anything.
But if you are something,
Then you can be nothing else.

This — my guiding philosophy — is the principal reason why I don’t have tattoos. It also explains why I don’t express too many opinions, choose a girlfriend, plow forward on a career, make a stand, own property, define myself. If I abstain from committing to being something, then my possibilities are boundless. I could be anything I want to be.

The flipside of this is that I have spent the duration of my adult life being nothing. In my 20’s, I got drunk on the idea of a bright future, of something great just around the corner. I know it’s a lie now, but then? I’d get off work on Friday and just get excited about what the weekend might have had in store for me. Truth is, those weekends had nothing — but think of the possibilities!

I sometimes come to this crossroad, and at some point, I will have to walk in one of those cardinal directions. Standing on the corner is itself pregnant with possibility, but failure to decide a path is a lifelong stillbirth, the end of which is a long, long list of could-have-beens. I live with the fear of being one of those sad bastards who did nothing with his life, but fear is a bad motivation. I can only hope I’ll find my one true passion (and soon!) and then let it inform my life and all of its decisions.

Obligation

The muted hush of melancholy settles upon me as I face — with my back to a week off full of squandered potential — the work week ahead. Back into it. From obligation, to obligation, back into obligation. That’s what I have come to. Obligations. Obliged to do this-and-that, not enticed with reward, but enlisted by duty, automatically walking through and doing, because that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Obligations.

Hoped to have an easy week off; nothing of it was easy but my resignation to my fate. Spent a lot of money to get my car fixed: suspension and tires. That really, really hurt me. Obligation. Drove home in the middle of the week off to visit family for the holiday. Obligation. Family time was good, but hard schedule, hard driving, hard couch. Obligation. Final days spent getting my head back together, dreading work tomorrow. Obligation.

Desire would be good. Motivation. Connection. Calling out. These are other purposes of life. I miss them. Instead, it’s the dry feeling of corn meal in my mouth, the bleary eyed, gray face of obligation. The red flash of the alarm comes in the morning. Will be a week of hell catching up at work, I just know it.

Meddi O Crity

Had a passing chat with an old friend earlier tonight, discussing recent projects and whatnot, reflecting on the week’s happenings to justify resting for the weekend. Having nothing myself to compare against his busy week, I said something like this:

“I can’t match that. Not much going on. I’m just maintaining homeostasis, see. I am an engine of mediocrity.”

“Hey, mediocrity’s good sometimes.”

“Yeah,” I continued, “I’m pretty good at it, actually. So good, in fact, I’m almost at the level of European.”

He stood back and applauded.

Causation

It was at that moment that the concept, the essence, the idea of the physical phenomenon known as my face began to submerge under the waves of pain, ripples flowing in reverse toward the impact of the pebble, the balled mass of flesh and bone with a torso behind it to lend the weight of the universe to the duty of teaching me a lesson over the bridge of my nose. Collapsing inward like black holes and galaxies, a universe of stars born in the breadth of an instant, dying in a lifetime of blood. The blow of dust and electricity in my head. Starch and irons and forks in power outlets. Lessons.

———

“Hey man, lemme talk at you.”

“What’s up?”

“That’s not cool what you did to my little cousin yesterday.”

“That wasn’t me, that was my friend. I can talk to him if you want.”

“No, I’ll talk to him.” Objects collide. Fist to face. Face to street. Street to foot. Sequence.

———

Kid in street, arms waving in the path. “Hey man, gimme your bike!”

Friend pulls lock and chain from the pouch on his top bar. Holds it up.

“A’ight, that’s cool. I don’t want your bike.” Kid moves to the side.

We ride on.

———

Slits closing, looking through red, trying to find frames, lenses, in street. Kid finds them, says his cousin was wrong. Helps me up, walks me home. Chipped tooth. Tears and blood, salt and iron. Bible in hand. No church tonight.

Contusion. Emergency doctor prescribed rest and fluids, ice packs, pain relievers. Officer on duty took information. Charges. The cousin, a weekend in jail. Me, years in fear. Chain. Sequence. Order. Truth happens fast; we all learn at some point. Best you can do is move out of the way fast enough.

To-Do Lists

Things I did this weekend:

  • Picked up some parts from the Honda dealer, got some much-needed tools to add to my collection, and replaced a plastic cap on my engine valve casing that’s been leaking oil for the past 2 years. It was an easy repair, but had a high risk of going bad (which is why I waited this long). Thankfully, the old plug came out fine and I didn’t have to remove the valve cover. Hopefully no more smell of oil baking on the engine block.
  • Topped off the radiator with antifreeze to bring the concentration up for winter; the hydrometer showed it was a little weak.
  • Wiped down part of the engine and cleaned up the battery contacts (since I had to disconnect the battery for the repair), finally putting the stock plastic cover back on the positive terminal to prevent accidental shorting.
  • After several months, I finally took four fat trash bags of shredded bills and some jars of used cooking oil down to Ecology Action for recycling.
  • Got a ton of quality hanging-out time with friends from several different circles at the cafe.
  • Met with the director of the short film I’m doing sound work on and got some very useful feedback.
  • Slept an average of 7 1/2 peaceful hours a night.
  • Updated all of my timepieces to Standard Time.
  • Got a pleasant surprise when I drove past the Crossfit gym near my house this morning and caught a glimpse of a woman with a well-toned backside in a lime-green string bikini and high heels posing in the garage door for a photo shoot (they were perfect hemispheres, I swear). Put a smile on my face.
  • Had some wonderful spicy chopped beef at Ruby’s BBQ on 29th and Guadalupe.
  • Located a decent Chinese carry-out restaurant to feed my cravings for sweet-n-sour chicken (these places are becoming rare now that they’re all changing into pan-asian or fusion cuisine places).
  • Made breakfast both Saturday and Sunday of ham, eggs, and pancakes.
  • Took a nice walk down the street to a cafe I seldom visit and, thanks to unreliable WiFi (must’ve been an atypical night), managed a good work session on my sound project.
  • Chewed through about 8 episodes of “Farscape”, season 3 – kinda dawdling on the storywriting during this stretch, but still fun to watch.

Things I didn’t do this weekend:

  • Go to a party.
  • Get laid.

OMG! This weekend is a failure! Why do I even try!? I QUIT!

Just kidding. This weekend has been inordinately kind to me, and I’m grateful to have some of my projects and obligations moved along to completion. It’s nice that I’m not allowed to do any overtime at my job; it prevents me from logging in on the weekend to check on the progress of the test machines (hey, it might be important, but I ain’t workin’ for free). I get my life back.

I have plenty of things I still want or need to do, but to have a chunk of them cleared out of the way in two days is a weight off my aching shoulders. I would wish for continued momentum, but life’s not all about that. It’s about irregular cycles; feast and famine, labor and leisure, give and get. This is my season for motion. Tomorrow? Who knows?