Cursive and the Matrix

When Sharpies are brand new and still have all their juices, they glide across paper cups in a way that makes me want to start writing in cursive. In third grade we were told that our days of lifting our pencils between letters would be gone forever. Even after the days when you believed you would one day live a gratifying life as an astronaut or a ballerina, surely your third grade teacher wasn't capable of lying. I always imagined that some children learned about dishonesty looking out a foggy window at the rain, realizing their father, who rarely even paid child support, wasn't going to show up as promised.

People will order diet soda and skinny lattes before they will opt for matcha. And of course, as an employee, its not quite appropriate to share a negative opinion of any product your employer sells. If it weren't for our internal desire to form bonds with other humans, most of our jobs could surely be done by a machine. It sometimes seems that there is little separating man from man-made.

I once believed that I must learn all I could about the technology which is now intertwined with our first-world culture. I felt that it could surpass and manipulate me if I did not grasp its inner-workings. Although it still seems suspicious that only a small percentage of people understand the technology used by millions every day, I have written it off as just another element of the Matrix.

The red pill slid swiftly down my throat and into my lungs. It allowed me to see fractals from the perspective of God. Knowledge can feel alienating. The very thing responsible for keeping children indoors on adderall is quite possibly the most useful tool for connecting misfits and educating a curiosity that is conditioned out of us in grade school.

Independance and Belonging

I'm beginning to realize there's more opportunities surrounding me than I ever would have thought. The only thing I feel is holding me back is that I lack the confidence and sociability to attend these events I'm strongly in support of, if I cannot find a friend willing to attend with me. It's stupid, because I know that within these occasions lies opportunity to connect with like-minded people, while supporting a cause I believe in. I have this constant worry consisting of an image of myself, alone in a crowd of people, alienated and unable to make social connections.

This is somewhat reflective of my detached Aquarius-like relationship with society, to which I feel I do not belong. Popular ideas often to not set well with me, such as in preference of  music and entertainment, my outlook on the traditional American diet and my political opinions. While I know I am not alone in feeling this way, I'm also unskilled in small-talk. It doesn't seem quite socially acceptable to go up to strangers who appear to be like-minded, and ask them their favorite band or their opinion on modern agriculture.

However, I know there are things in life I'm going to have to do alone, and as much as that scares me, I also recognize that its necessary to achieve my goals and for my soul to grow. There is joy in much more than human interaction, but the desire to belong is evolutionarily engrained into us. I just hope I can figure out how to satisfy both sides of my constantly conflicting mind.

My Future Self

Night time feels like empty space. I can fill it with all the little things I never have time to do during the day. I miss writing just to write. All I do lately never feels like its my own. Only reformulations of someone else's words. I sometimes think class pushes some good from my life. I also consider it may be the thing which I tell myself is only holding me back from my full potential temporarily. Although, I know the only cure for my feelings of emptiness, lack of substance in my life, is action.

A wise philosophy as I see it has to with visualization and an open mind. To be aware of the signs the universe is constantly giving you, responding to the energy you release. The idea that you have control over every little thing in your life is overwhelming. I'll sometimes imagine this pressure that isn't there, pressure to live my life to the fullest.
Though, if I can visualize myself in a time and place where I am, that will only mean that I am one step closer to obtaining this goal.

One thing that cannot be ignored within this imaginary life, is the vast difference in environment from where I am currently. In this visualization, I am laughing with some friends in a large cafe (or restaurant or co-op). The walls are wooden but painted yellow. We're in an urban area, down the street from a community garden where I spend a lot of my time. I may also sell produce at a local farmers market, write/take photos for an environmental magazine, and study human impact on ecosystems around the world. I travel to rural landscapes to collect data. I do not own a car (I may have sold it to pay off student loans). I am not in a relationship, but I have strong relationships with family and friends. I am confident. I live close with nature. Not too long before, I was on a service mission to a third world country, learning from and teaching locals principals of permaculture and sustainability.

This may be far fetched, silly, or oddly specific. It's a working progress.

Observations and Discoveries with Mushrooms

There is a wormhole in my memory of yesterday. We were a colorful bunch who had handed our minds to mother nature and our money to an acquaintance.

I was floating in a thought bubble.  Gazing into the lake I see small fish swimming about, having no concern with any world but their own. I am an amphibian, looking upon myself with wonder. I crawl from the water onto nearby rocks, and more of myself follow suit, communicating with the tiniest decomposing organism that is, I feel, also a part of me. The self which is complex and undiscovered, the subconscious seeping through.

I pull away, and continue my journey of observation and discovery. I find a shady seat between blades of grass and focus on the fluffiness scattered through the sky. Like a child awe-fully looking up through a sunroof, I saw the sky as an ocean with increasing depth as clouds became birds and puffer-fish moving steadily about. Something tells me many had seen this sight before, my own ancestors who lived only by the natural world, governed by seasons and the circle of life.

Overcome by thirst and interrupted by neighbors, I made it indoors, where thoughts manifested and I had turquoise visions of myself smiling in the future. A yellow cafe in Portland flashes through my mind. It isn't too far away, but also not close. I feel excited for future as well as content in this moment. Two of my closest friends and I made a cozy triangle with purple pillows. The room around us is a dome, outside of which nothing exists.
We're shortly joined by the rest of our group, who bring a box. This box is filled with the energy of us all. A yellow-tan shell speaks to me. It speaks to the octopus on my leg, tattooed there with henna just the day before. It stares up at me with its smeared eye, it's curvy tentacles seem wise and inviting. At this moment, I discover that the octopus must be my spirit animal. 

Struggles and Goals

I am convinced that every person has something that they struggle with for most if not all their life. Many people may have problems in common, but they are the sort of things one does not bring up in conversation too often. It seems that too many of us turn to cynicism; it's just so easy. It periodically finds its way into everyday thoughts, though. This thing could be anything from depression to a search for enlightenment. My love and hate for the modern world which I wrote about in an earlier post is my something. (Perhaps paired with shyness and anxiety).

I want to dedicate my life to helping people as well as other life. I could really care less about selling more coffee and sweets to people who don't think twice about where it comes from. I also wear my emotions on my sleeve, so my lack of excitement shows sometimes. I'm not all that comfortable around strangers unless I can find something specific we have in common. I can be awkward in social situations, but only because I can't seem to find a happy medium between silence and speaking my every thought, which often is random or inappropriate. I'm kind of a klutz and I often feel guilty about small mistakes. Even still, I know that I've matured a lot over the last couple years.

I've been looking for some direction or even a spiritual guide so to speak. The few meditation sessions I've attempted have been confusing or ended in sleep. I want to talk and be around people who understand my love of nature and hatred of money. I want to be a person who attends protests and who can articulate her opinion without preparation, who can spell without spellcheck, and who writes things anyone cares to read.

Rave Culture

Rave culture is very interesting to me. While I wouldn't say I'm a part of it, or know a, I have had a taste.
Popping Molly, and walking up to a person also feeling her effects, you are both very friendly. You have a couple of beaded kandi bracelets on, but your fellow raver's wrists are covered in them. She points to her wrist, asking if you want one (though you don't actually hear her over the EDM beats). You nod. You simultaneously make a peace sign, pressing your fingers together. You curve your hand to form half of heart. You press together flat palms, "hugging" one another's hands with your thumbs. Finally, you clasp your hands together, fingers intertwined. Your partner moves one of her bracelets from her wrist to yours, both of you wearing an accomplished grin. You made a new friend, as you both share the values of Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect. Your friend may or may not stick around, but you don't mind either way. The music is intoxicating. You just want to dance.
For anyone who's ever been to a rave, this is a normal occurrence. It's almost like being in 4th grade again, when you sung songs about a girl named Ms. Suzy. Maybe at that time, you would dance to a catchy beat completely, without fear of judgement. It was easy to befriend any person you had something in common with.
Electronic music has seeped into the top 40 more and more in recent years. I've heard the movement of rave culture been compared to the movement of hippies in the late 1960s. I, of course, didn't experience anything going on at that time, I think I may have in a passed life, as I do have a lifestyle that slightly resembles the era. It seems like the difference in drug choice tells a lot about the difference in counter-culture movements.
Everything about our culture today is, to me, trying to outdo itself in speed, loudness, outrage,  and craziness. Some of the most popular movies have weak plots, but lots of explosions and fast-paced action. Increased technology has us craving instant gratification, increased simulation, and as taught us that more is always better. Raves are all about dancing to fast-paced electronic music, flashing neon lights, and drugs that make the whole experience feel better. I'm a bit less than in love with it. Synthetic-sounding music and synthetic chemicals flooding my brain will never compare to my love for acoustic folk music, or my preference for mind-altering substances straight from Woodstock.
Hippies in the 60s advocated to end war, and for human rights. They did drugs that expanded their minds. I know the movement has been largely romanticized over the years, but everything about them seemed so much more genuine and natural. A kandi kid may burst positive vibes, but I don't think they really stand for anything more than just having a good time. Not to say I haven't met some legitimately awesome people at raves and that there weren't hippies who were about much more than having fun, I just think I was born in the wrong decade.

Relative Existence

I have a love/hate relationship with this world.

I love the incredible diversity and beauty of its life. It is an amazing phenomenon not only that we exist on this planet, but that we have evolved to the point where I can write about our existence. I love seeing evidence of our inclination to help one another in time of need.

But of course there is a flip side. I loath the capitalistic aspect of our society. Its difficult to escape advertisements all competing for money. I hate that there ways our government is knowingly harming us. I hate that there are greedy egomaniacs all over.

I cannot shake the idea that there must be an alternative. I don't want to be a slave to green paper. I don't want a job where I convince people to buy things that are bad for themselves or the earth. It seems so counter-productive to spend most of your days working to pay for a house you only have time to eat and sleep in and a car just so you can get to your job. I'm sure I'll end up at a commune one day, growing my own food and having only a bicycle.

It's so easy to take for granted our existence. But it also seems like so much pressure just to survive. It can be difficult to stay grounded to daily mundane things when the picture is so much bigger. You are only one person on one planet in this universe. While you read this, your organs and cells and enzymes are working to make that happen, though I don't quite know the details. How many times have these thoughts been thought before?

White People with Dreadlocks

I just read an article claiming that by having dreadlocks as a white person, others will see locks and think "black", and so that person's "whiteness" will be emphasized. It also pointed out somewhat of a double standard: black women can get weaves that resemble European hair without judgement. Personally considering backcombing my own head, I have come across similar things online several times. Many blacks still dislike seeing white people with dreadlocks. In this post, I would like to address those people.

 Every person has their own reason for locking their hair, be it spiritual, aesthetic, or both. Yes, white hair is much more difficult to lock than black hair, but that should not dictate who should or should not have a certain hair style. Many transgender people feel as if they were born the wrong sex, why is it so hard to believe that there are people who feel they were born the wrong race?
While dreadlocks are largely associated with Rastafarian beliefs, they have also been worn by Sages and Yogis in India, Ancient Egyptians, Celts, Greeks, and Vikings. While we know of these ropes of hair as dreadlocks because of Rastas, they were not the first to wear the hairstyle. Surely, having dreads does not necessarily mean that you are a Rastafarian, or a "wannabe".
On a related note, the Rastafari belief system emphasizes the oneness between us and God, and the equality between all people. According to science, our skin color is determined by varying amounts of melanin according to how our ancestors adapted to their climate. More sun exposure causes skin to produce more melanin, which makes skin darker. There is also much evidence that the human race migrated originally from Africa some 50,000 years ago. So then, are we all African?
Regardless, to claim that dreadlocks are a hairstyle only for black people is to ignore the very beliefs of the people who popularized them in the first place. It is to overlook the reality that we are one.

In case you're interested, here are some of my sources:
http://www.theroot.com/views/blacks-get-weave-why-cant-whites-get-locks?page=0,0
http://www.dreadygirl.com/historyofdreadlocks.htm
http://www.religionfacts.com/a-z-religion-index/rastafarianism.htm
http://www.aad.org/dermatology-a-to-z/for-kids/about-skin/what-gives-skin-its-color
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2007/07/070718-african-origin.html

Living in the Moment?

Wise advice says to live in the moment, to concentrate on the here and now, because there really is nothing more. It makes perfect sense. The past consists of nothing but memories, and the future only of possibilities. 

If one truly took this advice to heart, they would live every day as if it were their last. This also sounds like a great idea, as these words are often repeated to convey inspiration. 

But.

If any given day were my last one alive,I would probably spend too much of it thinking of all the things I have yet to do. But on the last day of my life, I would not go to work. I certainly would not do any homework or cleaning. I would meet the most new people, eat the most good food, have the most sex, and do the most drugs that I possibly could manage. I would have no budget beyond every cent in my bank account.

Of course, we cannot spend every day doing the most extravagant and lush activities possible. We must plan for the future, learn from mistakes, study for tests, conserve money, and keep mind of our health. 

So, while living in the moment is great advice (because YOLO),it seems difficult to do when we have so much to keep in mind for the future.

What these phrases really mean, in my opinion,is to take life one step at a time. Have a plan, but don't be overwhelmed by the big picture. Make the most of what you have, take action, and don't expect everything to always go as planned.