The Bad News

I have some bad news.

You’re not going to like it.

Are you ready?

Are you sitting down?

Here it is.

No one is coming to save you.

We’re all we’ve got. That’s it. Nothing. –No, no. Shh. :: leans in closer and hushes your lips ::

You see. For all the excuses mankind waves at its atrocities, disguised with a bow of ignorance, we hold on to some hope that someone/something will save us. That someone will come to mend the broken, to right the wrong, to heal our wounds.

This world is broken in many ways. And while the onslaught of the media’s bad news can be overwhelming and near soul crushing (seriously pushing me toward a nihilistic and misanthropic existence), I remind myself of my fondness for humanity.

The good we’re capable of:

The amazing things our bodies can do:

The beautiful poetry of a good dance:

In every amazing feat, kind gesture, and moment of joy, I have to remind myself of the awe.

“That’s my species! That’s what we can do–that’s what I can do!” (Granted the last part is contingent on practice and discipline, but it’s all within capabilities of a human)

The blood, the dna, coursing through my body… the building blocks are the same and I have to–must–remind myself about the beauty in that. I have to remind myself just how connected we are. Or else drown in despair.

So while some try to divide us with our differences, I see the beauty in the differences. I see the beauty in what the species is capable of; the many shapes, sizes, colors, and everything in between. It’s me It’s us.

Walking down the street, or watching people on T.V., I go, “Wow, her smile is gorgeous. That gymnast, she executed a flawless move. That astronaut, fearless in the face of uncertainty… that’s us. That’s me.”

The pride swells, if only to stabilize me in an otherwise eroding foundation.

I’m reminded of a short story by Andy Weir (Same author from The Martian), called The Egg. It resonates with me, conveying a lot of what I’m trying to point out. You should read it.

I leave you with one of my favorite clips from the movie Contact. Where the main character Ellie meets her dead father (she makes contact with aliens who disguise themselves as her father to establish a non-threatening form of communication). It has one of my favorite quotes:

“You’re an interesting species. An interesting mix. You’re capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you’re not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.”

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FOMO

Fear Of Missing Out. FOMO.

That has been last year’s philosophy. Pretty much. Live like you’re dying, they’ve always said. Granted, I’m not doing all sorts of risky, life-threatening, behavior. And this isn’t exactly a midlife crisis… yet. What I am doing is taking more social risks, trying new things, saying ‘yes’ when I’d otherwise say ‘no.’ It’s an assault to my introvert personality, though I still have my days when I would rather sequester myself in the comfort of my room than go out. In the end, I don’t want to have the feeling of regret, of missing out. So far things have worked in my favor and I’m really glad I’m cracking out of my shell a bit, plus learning more about myself. Overall, I’m more comfortable and more confident.

Work is adequate. I enjoy it. There’s always a new dose of challenge, and something new to learn. That’s how I like it. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I enjoying being the small fish in a big pond. There are all these bigger fish to learn things from. It’s exciting.

I’m trying to fit more time into my day. I still want to get back into writing. There’s coding I also want to learn. I know a few basic things, but I really want to excel in coding. It all requires so much time and dedication and really it all comes down to how much I want it and how much time I’m willing to put it. It’s all about motivation and dedication.

Writing prompts are there–the stories are there. They’re overflowing and I have plots to keep me busy for a while. Fleshing them out has always been a problem, which I’m sure is a common problem for many writers, along with the occasional writer’s block. I have half a dozen projects half-finished. It’s kind of frustrating because I want so badly to finish just ONE this year. Just one.

What’s stopping me?

A part of it is, I’ve lost confidence, not only the work but in my ability as a writer. Sure, there are the copy-editors that we keep in business, but that only goes so far. It’s back to basics; reading. Reading has always been my way to sharpen my writing skills. My mind examines the prose, the style, the emotions evoked in the passages I read.

Health and fitness.

I’ve come a long way from last year as far as health and fitness. Although I’ve lost the 34lbs I gained over the course of my life in the PNW, I want more now. Now that I know I can do this, I want to see how much further I can push myself. Can we go lean and sculpt? Don’t know, but we’ll see how it goes.

That’s my short update for this year. I want to continue blogging, I’ve sort of let it slip to the wayside. Armini (muse) has started to whisper these odd plots, strange scenes that involve him. Perhaps I’ll spark the fire of inspiration with his stories.

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