Waves

Sometimes I'm overwhelmed by how epic life is.

Dot dot dot.

A deluge of waves is coming, and I'll need to anchor myself well in order to not be swept away. That needs to be a pretty hefty anchor then.

I hear small children. Awww, small children!

I'm really starting to like the color yellow. I'm more like my dad than I think...

Sometimes I can see my thought bubbles bloop up above my head, and I see all the clutter and mess that's inside of it - sometimes it's so shallow, yet sometimes I don't understand them at all. And I wonder, what is in everyone else's thought bubbles? What is this one thinking about, and what is that one struggling with? What has brought up those in this one's bubble, and how can that one overcome these? Each one must be so complicated, so rich and so heavy and so colorful and so fragile.

If you step back a little, all those bubbles meld - they're like cells, each one living, with each one's intricacies and stories. Step back a bit more and it becomes a body, then an entire biosphere, kind of like how individual threads made from different materials intertwine to make a tapestry, and how strokes of watercolor combine to form one painting. It's beautiful, intricate and overwhelming all at once. Like waves that cover the ocean's skin.

Looking back, I wonder, how much have things really changed the past year? Haha, xanga holds so much of my thoughts - it's interesting to go back through them and sift -- what did I think a year ago? 2 years ago? 3 years ago? What did I care about, what did I do, what did I want? Looking back, I think, wow! I posted a lot. And sometimes I find myself agreeing with my old self , but other times I'm in total contradiction with what I wrote before. Sometimes I'm surprised, because I had forgotten things that I remember again are so important, and other times I'm surprised that I have changed so much. Still other times, I find myself no longer as sure as I was before about certain things, or perhaps more sure. Some questions are now more answered, and other answers have now become questions once more.

Keeping an archive of thoughts... I wish I did that more. I wish I kept a better habit of it. Well, I wish for a lot of things, none of which will magically happen if I just keep wishing hard enough. That's the beauty of it isn't it? Wishing alone never does anything productive.. It all combines together with other factors, like the neural connections of the brain interact to an end result. Which, because of feedback, actually isn't the end. It's a (vicious) cycle.

Sometimes I find myself encouraged by the me of the past... is that a sign of regression? I don't know... It's encouraging and slightly discouraging at the same time - not sure what to make of that.

And now it's 3:33 (is it 33 seconds too?) Time to paint my heart out...

07.25.07, 10.10.07.