bell - a verbalization of consciousness

Dear Diary.

The last day of 2005. It’s supposed to feel different, I think. I was hoping to wake up today with some revelation, but, alas, nothing. Hopefully, something will come tonight. The day is young, and I’m about to blow up, in the figurative sense.

Last night was my uncle cliff’s 46th birthday. I know my dad was lookin’ on us with smiles. 17 peeps celebrated the life of Cliff over tequila shots and margaritas at La Fuente, which was off the chains!! Later I went to Jeremy and Caitlyn’s new house, saw kyle and Karin, Wahn and Sckleiks, Chuck and freakin’ Jason Crantz… we hit up the bars after a couple mean games of poker and presidents, and my dart game was on point. I slept until 1pm. My little dog, Taylor, woke me up. She does this funny thing where she scratches on my door when she thinks I have had enough sleep. The minute I let her in, she comes tearing through my room, hunting for socks and kisses. More often then not, she finds both… usually by distracting me with the latter. The truth is, I’ll always be a better wrestler than her though… Mom brought home a giant sub sandwich from Cousin’s Subs for me, and I thought that was mighty positive. Then, I watched Arizona beat UW in double overtime. Pretty tight game. Bradon Roy blew up and hit TWO at-the-buzzer 3-pointers to take the game into overtime and then double overtime, but AZ pulled out the upset in the end, 96-95. Next up, go Ducks! I like the parity in the Pac-10. Then I hit up the gym, saw some peeps and finalized the ridiculousness for tonight’s festivities. It’s on.

Latest book I’ve finished this break: “The Secret Life of Ivan Osokov” by who?, yep, you guessed it: P.D. Ouspenksy. The book is the only novel ever written by my favorite philosopher. I liked it very much, and it was a quick read. It put me somewhere between Gurdjieff and Jorge Luis Borges. It helped me question some things, but most of all, I found words for a lot of otherwise inarticulate sensations.

CD getting the most airtime these days: “Voices in Your Head” by “Undermind & G_Force”. It’s so tight. Blessed be the one who turned me on to it. Chill. And right on.

I’m in my basement. This is where all of my child hood memories at the house took place, more or less. Here lies all the childhood toys i’ve ever had. All the legos, the he-man figures, my kites, my starwars battleships, my rollerblades, puzzles, notebooks. All of my video games, squirt guns, national geographic magazines. I look around and I can see baskets of lanyard, all of my sister’s barbies, space man boots, micro-machines, cub scout derby cars, and regatta boats. Old shirts hang on old hangers, and glow in the dark moons and stars cling to the walls. I’m 24 years old…. almost a quarter of a century. But! I still wanna play with them all. I could build a lego castle right now that would make people’s jaw drop! What used to be wide open carpet space to ‘play,’ is now an old table with an even older computer on it. It can’t even read most email attachments, so it’s virtually worthless. But I keep it real. This is the only time I’ll use the internet at my house. I try not to touch anything here anymore, mostly because I don’t feel allowed or invited. Plus, the house is so caught up on never changing that everything here is severely outdated anyways. The irony is that I could single-handedly bring everything into the 21st century, but I’ve lost much of my appetite for allegience. All the old stuffed animals, my first dartboard, and more card games than you can imagine. A glow-in-the-dark creepy-crawler-making machine, my old stereo, old umbrellas and old blankets. Old couches, and an old train set… packed up and put away. An old ping pong table cluttered with boxes so as to make space. Oh, the fun we used to have. It’s just a room full of artifacts now. A room full of what used to be. Old crafts, old masks, old laughs. Crayons, chalk, markers… All run down and worn out. I remember my little fingers pushing their weight to paper and to popsicle sticks and to sidewalks. Time sure changes. We don’t forget, we just don’t remember. Remembering keeps you honest. Keeps you thankful. Keeps you trill.

I used to build forts down here, and re-arrange stuff. I’d sneak friends over when my dad was away and we’d play like my life depended on it. The phone just rang. The same old phone that has always been down here. It must be a hundred years old. It’s the perfect shade of 1950’s yellow/green and has one of those obnoxious rings that’s piercing and redundant. I miss it, though. It used to always ring for me. All my friends had it memorized, and I would spend HOURS on the phone in my junior high days. Now, I hit my head on the lights that hang from the ceiling, and I’m reminded of my age.

I think it’s good to remember the passage of time. My mom asked me what I want to do with my future, and I told her that it’s hard enough to live in the present. I insist that this is as philosophical as I’ll ever get…. living in the present. Key word: live. I’m not talking about ‘being’ in the present. That’s to easy, and everyone is doing it. But to actually live in the present is a bit more challenging than all of us realize. The grow and breathe, and change in the now. To love and to strive and to sacrifice in the now…. ooh, it sends chills down my spine. I will never abandon the infinite moment of now. It’s too big, and too vast, and we can’t overlook or control or run from it. In these ways we lose our chance for peace.

And with that, I step into a night that will carry me into my 25th year of life. Here’s to another quarter century of good fortune and good health and good times.

Posted by bell at December 31, 2005 03:22 PM | TrackBack