Sunday Writing Prompt #235 “New Years Resolutions”

I wasn’t planning on writing anything. I have talked at length about my feelings on self-improvement. Mine is certainly not the most popular stance. I believe 90% of all self-improvement efforts come from a place of self-hatred rather than from a place self-acceptance. We often disguise acts of self-harm/self-abuse with pretty and placatory rhetoric but when the ultimate goal is erasure or truth distortion the outcome is never favorable long-term. All of our various qualities are essential to who we are and while degrees of said qualities vary, we are all human. I have found great sources of strength in my so-called flaws. Stubbornness = Determination. Impatience = Enthusiasm. You simply can’t possess one without the other, they are two sides of the same coin. So be careful what you wish for when building the new you and remember that you can never escape yourself no matter how much shit and/or glitter you adorn.

We waste so much effort in trying to control and micromanage every aspect of our lives. We even attempt to control one another in an effort to maintain a very limiting ego view! I have seen so many people push away friends and family when on a self-improvement kick all because their friends and family refuse to conform to their very limited world view. Obviously some relationships are truly abusive/unhealthy but I am not talking about those relationships. I am talking about your garden variety relationship. No relationship is perfect. There are no perfect people. And there is no magical state of homeostasis that occurs once you reach a goal that does not have to be maintained through continuous and conscientious effort. I work very hard to maintain my weight. In order to maintain my weight I have to exercise, I have to eat regular/balanced meals. If there is a magical stage where I can eat whatever I want and sit around on the sofa all day and still maintain my health and physique I have yet to enter it. Years of healthy eating have not released me from my cravings. Some people say that after they have been eating clean X number of months/years that their cravings subside. I can’t speak for them but for me this has not been the case. I crave bad food sometimes. I also crave vegetables sometimes. As I get older I am less attracted to certain desserts but what I never seem to do is lose my appetite. I have a voracious appetite and a passionate love of food. What’s the point of starving myself on a bland diet? What’s the point of killing my passion for food? Can’t this passion be harnessed? Cannot this not too be a strength?

I hated exercise when I was a child. As an adult I have learned to look forward to my workouts. I still hate running but there are lots of other styles of training that I genuinely enjoy. Has exercise gotten easier? Yes and no. I have certainly gotten into the habit of regular exercise. I have seen the benefits of regular exercise. I have to continually challenge my body. I have to sweat and struggle otherwise it’s not really exercise is it? Without opposition there can be no growth. Weight-loss though should just be a byproduct, a side-effect because once weight-loss is achieved most people either loss motivation and revert to their previous behaviors or they continue to starve themselves into horrific caricatures. Goals are important but goals that devalue you are more harmful than helpful.

Anyone can be more peaceful if they move to Buddhist retreat and live a simple, monotonous lifestyle where everyone around them more or less adheres to the same system of values and there is probably benefit in going on the occasional retreat but in the end growth comes from being challenged. My daughter often says I will be more positive when life goes my way, when I get my perfect moment. Every moment has its truth. We are never going to get our shit together, that’s not actually the point though is it? The fun is in the process. Life is in the process.

Doing things you hate to improve the quality of your life simply doesn’t work long-term. Embrace new experiences, fall in love with life and all those shallow imitations of happiness/fulfillment will naturally loosen their grip. If you think of change as a natural and organic process and you accept yourself (warts and all) you will get to a point where you start to make better choices, choices that promote mental/physical/spiritual health. Fuck the mold. Be like water.



Diary Entry September 22 2013


I am immobile. Grim. My thoughts boil, dissipate, scald on inquiry. I can not adjust my moods to the indulgence of either obligation or whim. So I stoop, incongruous with a sustainable architecture. Contradictions define me. I am exhausted and vehemently opposed to the clock’s covetous hands withdrawing my youthful diversions. My habits offend me and yet I am fondly and inconsolably dedicated to their exploitation. The most significant discovery I have made in the past few months is that I no longer want to be unhappy. I understand unhappiness. The alternative remains incomprehensible. My mouth is a monument, grief-stricken but no longer frequented by superstition. It dips well below the horizon. I frown mostly and I’ve found that the face really does assume the angles most held.


My hair has started to turn grey. Not grey precisely. The hairs are hysterically white. My grandmother had a head full of freshly laid snow, immaculate and cohesive. I am 32, a red head it could be worse but I still find myself cringing whenever I see one of those albino imposters sprouting from my autumnal mane. Even if you approach life slowly, delicately it still passes by in an instant. I am not aging well, despite my good intentions, genetics don’t give a shit about my intentions.


I find that I cry less. That I spend less time engaged in preparations for war. I spend less time generating ulterior motives from happenstance. Some days inexplicably I even forget to hate myself. I realize that soon I will have to articulate my goals to a stranger. My goals have always been survival oriented. Get out of bed, keep breathing, feed, clothing optional/shower mandatory. My existence has been about maintaining a state of “not dead”. I want more than “not dead” but I am not sure how much more. I don’t think I need much.


I am not ready for real life friends. I just want to be able to go to the grocery without the comfort of my automatisms. For God sake stop talking to yourself in public it generates unwanted conversation. Contrary to popular belief talking to yourself while wildly flapping your hands does not discourage people from socializing. If anything it seems to encourage them.


As for jobs. I am at my very core an Anarchistic. I could not, would not, should not work in an office. I cannot drive or operate machinery and I cannot be responsible for a herd of living beings (except maybe plants). Being a surgeon is completely out of the question. I probably can’t watch a store because of the absence seizures. Whenever I think of working I think of all that I can’t do I am not sure if I am being pessimistic or realistic circumstances considered.


My seizures are very frequent. Speaking of which my seizures have actually gotten worse since the pneumonia. My pupils are asymmetrical more often than not these days. I am in a chronic mental stupor. Please don’t let this be a permanent change.  Is it even possible to work outside of home at my own pace? My pace being on par with your typical earth-dwelling mollusk. I couldn’t get any slower if I stood still and waited for the task to spontaneously complete itself.


My idea is to get a physically demanding job, something that would allow me to skip my daily exercise and that would be mechanical and repetitious (memory issues make complicated tasks impossible at the moment). Grave digging for example. Unfortunately I believe they use machines to dig graves which I cannot legally operate. I only want to work part-time in the mornings when I am at my sharpest. I want an apartment/house suitable for a three person family. Not a big space mind you as I have to be capable of maintaining the space in a habitable fashion. I want my bedroom door to close and lock! I want to have vocal sex! I want to be less self-conscious. I want to write poetry books and live with purpose. I want a functional brain, which might be the one thing I can’t have. I want the independence that comes from learning. I want to see a memory specialist desperately.


Today’s something different is letting you read my diary. I have no idea how to write a diary and so I can never figure out if I should pretend I am talking to an audience or if I should talk to myself. Diaries confuse me and to be honest I rarely write in mine which is probably some kind of criminal offense given that I am a writer.  I mostly pretend I am talking to someone else and so I weirdly explain things about myself that are obvious and that I already know. Diaries really confuse me and I think they make me sound insane lol

Prompt 15: Childhood Dreams

Criminals-bewareI am sorry but this picture was too cute that I gave up looking for my usual pretty pictures

I think the prompt is pretty obvious without much explanation, there are several routes you could go as you know I am not very restrictive. What did you want to be when you grew up? What did you pretend to be? You can write as a child or as adult. If you have your own children you can alternatively write about their dreams or their games of pretend. If you have attained your childhood dreams or helped another to attain their dreams you can also write about that experience. If you are a teacher you can talk about your goals and experiences with your students. Artwork and photography are also welcome. I don’t say this every time but do try and read and comment to one another =)

Mr Linky