Archive for May 24th, 2010

I was dragged out of the house tonight, very much against my own will.  Probably just as well.  It hasn’t exactly been one of my best days.  The PTSD Fairy came to visit me but in a much more “exciting” way! Oh, yes! Today I got to have maybe, just maybe…a bit of my past and present collide.  I’m not sure yet.  I haven’t had enough time to think about it because I was dragged out of the house tonight–very much against my own will.

Unfortunately, PTSD isn’t a very nice dinner companion.  It’s not exactly good manners to cry into your dish of Pad Thai, is it? That’s alright, PA.  Just keep swallowing.  You like your food nice and spicy anyway, don’t you? Let’s just crank the heat right up?

So full of snark was I, the word fuck came out of my mouth about 14 times while eating.  I just about told J. to fuck off before we even entered the restaurant.  When we were leaving, a kid wasn’t watching what he was doing, and banged into me with my all my gear.  I called him a “motherfucker.”

Okay…are we reaching Aspie Meltdown Territory? Bipolar Cycling City? A bit of fireworks going on? At least in PAs head?

Well, not just there.  Fireworks in my neighbourhood.  This is an annual thing for “Victoria Day.”  Yes, “Happy Birthday You Old Dead Queen!” Actually, it’s the only decent fireworks show they have in my city, anymore.  Rather a shame, but tonight I couldn’t give a shit.  That is why I was dragged out of my house tonight–very much against my own will.  J. and his friend wanted to come down and shoot them, as we all did last year.

However, J. said he didn’t bring his camera.  He “wasn’t going to bother.”  I told him that if I’d known that, I wouldn’t have bothered either! Then we argued about discussed how I should shoot them.  Meanwhile, I had already set my camera up for both options (HIS way and MY way.)  Just so I could prove that I knew what would work? That I…well, I thought I knew what was best?

So, walk down to the water, jam the tripod into the sand and wait for the show.  I didn’t tell him how I was shooting.

I’ll try to show you all some of the fruits of my labour as soon as I can.  270 pictures is kind of a lot to go through.  Yep, that’s right.  I shot 270 pictures during a fireworks display.  With no remote or cable release, also.  It was almost a bit of a workout, but I “won?” Doing it MY way? *rolls eyes*

I always use ‘bulb’ and it’s even easier with Digital SLRs now.  He wanted Aperture Priority.  When he saw the shots and how many, he admitted defeat.  They’re not all winners, of course! Hardly! But that is how photography works.  You have to take how many shots to get just the right amount of…”winners?” Or even anything that will pass? And I’m not even a professional.  Hardly again!

Yeah, I guess it was good to get out.  Do something somewhat creative? At least the pics are a lot better than last year’s.

Fucking Aperture Priority. *laughing* I don’t think I could have whipped off my 270 with that! HA!

NOTE TO PA: When you get up tomorrow, have a look at your recent blog posts.  You are really sounding like a bitch.

I’ve often wondered if I am one of “those people.”  You know the type, right? They live, breathe, practically devour the continual chaos they create for themselves.  I’ll stay away from the psychobabble and medical jargon (I know, on this blog?!) However, there are now “terms” for “those people.”  They may even be able to get help for their “affliction.”

Then again, maybe “those people” just need to look in the mirror and shut the fuck up.  Now there’s some good therapy.

Okay, Socrates.  I do try.  Sometimes I may try to much.  In fact, I’m pretty sure of it.  Ripping apart every little piece of myself, putting it on slides over and over again.  Examine, re-examine, get a new slide…  I can’t count the number of microscopes I’ve broken.  I guess that’s a fair indication, then.

So in the end, is my life worth living or not? That’s not really what I’m looking for, though: “The unexamined life is not worth living.”  It’s about content, yet even still, begging the question of its worth seems tangential at best, and merely ponderable at worst!

Nonetheless, if I’m one of “those people,” I do look in the mirror, just as the microscope, and I do tell myself to shut the fuck up.  Or maybe I don’t.  Maybe the mirror is just another slide, eh Socrates? Or, it’s another piece from a broken microscope, which makes me start your process all over again.  But then it becomes meaningless, because eventually, I realize that the mirror’s broken.

Maybe I don’t need a mirror so much as I thought.  I can still tell myself to shut the fuck up without it? No.  I need to somehow see what I am telling myself to shut the fuck up about.

Hey, at least I can admit all of this? You’ve got to give me some points for that.  It may be more than can be said for “those people.”  But, the question remains unanswered.  How much of the chaos in my life am I ultimately responsible for?

Years ago, I was seeing a therapist, and she gave me a tiny scrap of paper with this quote from Nietzsche: “You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”  I wanted to tell both her and Nietzsche to shove a BBQ charcoal briquette up their asses, do a jig, and then shit me out a diamond instead.

Yeah, yeah…I get the picture…I gotta shit out my own star.