there are two colours in my head…

•August 25, 2008 • 3 Comments

“Look at all those fancy clothes,
But these could keep us warm just like those.
And what about your soul? Is it cold?
Is it straight from the mold, and ready to be sold?

And cars and phones and diamond rings,
Bling, bling, those are only removable things.
And what about your mind? Does it shine?
Are there things that concern you, more than your time?”

Jack Johnson, Gone

So I thought I would branch away from the Radiohead lyrics tonight and go in a different direction. Lately I have been feeling strangely antisocial despite the ever looming approach of my departure. I opted out of going out after work on friday night to stay home and watch Collateral for the third time while eating some local chinese food (by the way, can chinese food even be local if you’re not in china?!). Then last [saturday] night I stayed home again. I feel like my head’s been too full to go out and socialize.

Now I’m just sitting on my bed with an ice cream bucket full of crayons between my criss-crossed legs. I’m sorting through all the donations that I’ve been given so that I can start packing them. It’s a weird thing, going through this bucket of crayons. Some of them are from my communities childrens class supplies but most of them are mine from my childhood. I can still make out “Sieben” printed on the ends of some of the ones that made it all these years with their paper still in tact. Others I can see the silver spray paint that my dad covered all the ends of my school supplies in during my later elementary years. I remember him telling me that it’d take less time to do that then write my name on every single one, and he was right.

Now years later, I feel a bit strange and awkwardly emotional over crayons. I’m definitely one of those people that hang onto knick-knacks and odd little pieces of my childhood to keep the memories fresh and alive, but I know that the crayons are going to kids that will actually use them (it’s been a while since I’ve pulled them off the top shelve of my closet) and it’s not like I’m at all worried about the disappearance of them. I just feel sad. It might have something to do with my lifelong belief that inanimate objects have feelings (weird, I know) but I think it’s more likely that it has something to do with our society. Lately I’ve been realizing how disposable, superficial and artificial our culture is. It’s full of people that don’t see the issue of throwing away twice used crayons; people that are constantly looking at their bucket full of crayons and wishing for felts; people that don’t see the beauty in the array of colour and choose only to fill in the lines with black and white; people that can’t seem to get their mind around colouring outside the lines.

I guess it just boils down to being tired of life stuck on repeat. I’m sick and tired of answering the question “what are you going to do on vacation if you can’t shop or wear a bathing suit to the beach?” For people living inside the lines, to colour outside of them seems absurd. In our society the belief is that we’re the ones that have it straight. We’re the ones that are modern and advanced. We think that because we’ve got our sciences down to an atom and our languages compacted to a dictionary that we’re the ones a step ahead of the world.

Are we, are we really? What our happiness relies on is perishable items that decay and rot with enough time. Our society is all about getting but when does it ever stop? How can our happiness ever be constant if we’re never satisfied with what we currently have? We are always eyeing the bigger and better wishing that we posessed it. Then when we get bigger and better there’s always someone else with a little bit more. We are envious of people that are even just slightly more rich in material then we are; we covet their posessions and remain constantly unhappy with our own.

When does it stop? When can we feel fully satisfied as a person if we are constantly feeling jealous and greedy? It never stops. Materialism is never-ending. It’s not possible to satisfy a materialistic heart because there is always, always more it can, and will, desire. Our society is always going to be running around in circles wishing their crayons were felts. I feel completely blessed to go live in a place where the culture isn’t constantly wishing for more material. I think it’s going to be extremely hard, but also really rewarding. I’m excited to work on my own desires because so many times I get caught up wishing I had the latest this or that. I can’t wait for this challenge to begin!

On that note I think I’ve had enough ranting and I’m left wondering what colour of crayon I would be and why. Total classic and typical online quiz question haha. How is it possible to think so deeply about something and end so shallow? I guess that’s just how my brain works.

temporary beds; stop dreaming

•August 22, 2008 • Leave a Comment
“A heart that’s full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won’t heal
You look so tired and unhappy [...]“
Radiohead, No Surprises

Since the concert I have remained in total awe of Radiohead and I figure that this obsession might not die down for a while so I might as well make use of it and start some blogs off with their lyrics. The line a job that slowly kills you really seems to fit my mood tonight. Working at a retail clothing store brings me no satisfaction and now I’ve caught myself pretending to clean things numerous times over just so I can stand a little while longer in the same spot and daydream about faraway places. I can’t help but cringe as I watch the same piles of kelly green and colbalt blue shirts that took me a half an hour to fold neatly get re-wrinkled day in and day out. Sometimes I imagine that those piles could take on a life of their own and suffocate any person that lays a hand on them…including me. I feel like they’ve already suffocated a part of me. It’s ridiculous how many temporary jobs I’ve been through and how many more I’ll probably go through

Well, on a brighter but equally temporary note, tonight I got home to find a huge air-mattress blown up in the middle of my living room with a bright yellow pump sitting proudly next to it. I was overjoyed. It’s just the little things that are coming together for my trip that make me smile. I’ll admit that the center of gravity on that thing is out of whack and it feels like I could just roll off of it, but it’s going to be my bed for the next few months, and therefore I am going to learn to love it.

Have you ever realized how much a bed means? It’s the place you become most vunerable. It’s where your day starts and ends. It’s more home then any other piece of furniture. My own queen sized bed is currently a mess of mix-matched blankets, covered in random bedroom items as I sit, plunked right in the [chaotic] middle of it all. Packing for my trip has begun and my bed has lost face appeal because of it. Despite that, tonight I was so happy to leave my monotonous spot on concrete where I daydream my shifts away to come home to my bed. I can’t even start to convince myself that I’ll take the time to organize anything in my room to get my bed cleared for the night so I can stetch out across it. I think tonight I’m okay with untucked sheets and sharing space with inanimate objects that were lazily strewn over them throughout the morning. I’ll just curl up into a fetal position and dream that somehow within this next week I’ll grow some outrageously thick skin that compells me to skip my last couple days of work so that I can actually accomplish some of the small things begging to get done before I leave.

Well unfortunately I know that I can only dream this way because despite my true inner desires I couldn’t actually leave my co-workers with such a bitter opinion on the kind of person I am. So alas, I’ll have to battle myself every morning for the next week until it’s all over and I can stop dreaming…

and start living.

And it begins

•August 21, 2008 • 2 Comments

For those of you that don’t know me, I am leaving for Vanuatu to teach at a Baha’i school down there for a few months or more, and I’ve decided this is going to be my travel blog. I’m just going to post things on here about my trip, as in updates and anything that is even semi related to it. Any thoughts or feelings that come up or even a poem if the mood strikes.

Oh, and I clearly need to work on the title of my blog (seeing that it’s just Radiohead lyrics) and I would love any suggestions or thoughts. Just comment on this post if you have a good idea and would like to share it with me.

Love and peace.