Category: Journal

Tell me that I’m good

Someone still reads this. Someone out there reads this. They read it and they keep coming back and reading it and sometimes they even respond, sometimes they even contact me and let me know how my words have related to them. It feels weird.

Weird because it feels weird when I know something is true and I say it is true, and then it really is and I see I was right about the truth… it just feels weird.

Is it because so many others just have no faith that seeing my own faith ring true makes reality itself seem ingenuine?

I’m so tired. My eyes want to close. I am watching “Timecode” instead. I tried to see it in a theatre, but despite seeing trailers and advertisements for it in local theatres, it never played in the valley. I could not justify buying it, and I still won’t be considering that. I pay so much to watch movies on cable every month that I could not justify renting something. So, it has come on, and I have been watching it. And it is way past my bedtime. And I want to see how this works out, and I’m going to be tired at work tomorrow either way at this point, so no use in missing the last ten or fifteen minutes, right?

Maybe Chocolate ice cream will make me feel better. maybe cheese. maybe eating and eating and eating is the answer to all my problems. maybe sleeping all the time will make the other hours feel better. maybe distracting myself with movie after movie and huge, complex games will make me feel better. maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe.

On the subject of not bringing subjects up

I think I am beginning to understand why so many people who have online journals or weblogs only post brief messages. Or perhaps I am just beginning to do so. I think other people may do it because they only have a little to say. I find that I am censoring myself. Whether this is because I don’t want what I have to say to be public knowledge (a condition I do not condone; I do not truly believe that privacy exists, so why do I still want to guard mine?) or because I worry that when I post too long a comment, no one reads it, the result is the same, and it often turns out to be no posts at all.

I am doing my best to add at least short posts, but I have been making myself so busy lately that I have been kept from creating any really long posts. Soon though, I will find myself in a new form of asceticism where I cannot afford to do much more than sit around in front of my computer typing long messages out into the internet about whatever is skipping across my mind.

I have many things to say. I will be right back to say them…

Judaism and me

Sometimes I wish I were Jewish.

Even just a little. It’s a genetically predetermined religion, and as far as I know I am not even a little bit Jewish.

The only thing that has ever motivated me to even consider my genealogy is the (hope?) idea that maybe I’m a descendant of King David. Yet my doubts always seem to prevent me from searching for something that (probably) isn’t there.

When I was a little boy, I didn’t want to be a fireman or a policeman when I grew up. I knew I could be superman, but how realistic is that? What I remember wanting to be (maybe not from a very young age, but certainly as a child) was a rabbi. I still do, sort-of. The more I learn about Judaism, the more I feel like it fits. I took an interesting test recently, and it said my beliefs were something like 96% compatible with Reform Judaism. Silly genetics.

More Furniture than you would expect

So the plan to wake up bright and early Sunday morning and pick up the Chair.5 didn’t work out. I didn’t wake up bright and early on Sunday, and I then found myself unable to communicate with Julie. Iain and I were theorizing about that yesterday when, every single time he tried to send a message to me about Julie or the situation at hand, it did not make it through to me. Like, the internet was in on the not letting me communicate with Julie thing. Luckily, Iain was still able to communicate with Julie, and we worked out to go down there after work yesterday and get it. A little work taking off and later replacing the shell on her truck, but the Chair.5 is now in my living room.