Mug

Beer doesn't taste the way it used to.

Is this what getting older feels like?

A dissatisfaction with the direction things are taking? Not in general but specific things that once brought bliss and temporary bursts of vivid joy. These things are still present but present a different face each time they are visited, be they willingly or unwillingly. Each time, there is less of something despite a persistent quantity and quality. In terms of appearance.

A facade.

Beer doesn't taste the same.

It's still beer. It's still cold.

Sometimes, it's more bitter. Other times, it's more and more like water, and other times it just tastes empty.

Same goes for other facets of life. What can be done but persist in the self and make more tangible the make believe that things will get better.

Or there's a sign that is obscured by how fast we're travelling. How fast we consume our drinks to get to the buzz, how fast we consume that which was made with care.

How quickly we devour and discard to move on to the next prey while the previous carcass bleeds and writhes asking, "Why?"

The indicator that one should sip from the mug as the sun sets and enjoy the breeze.

Not to rush into the night time but to waltz into it.

Or saunter if you think you lack the rhythm.

Double-edged swords

I'm going to be working 3 jobs.

Too far

I haven't been able to sleep lately.

As such, I've been taking melatonin in an effort to help me sleep.

The first night, I took a small dosage and didn't feel anything. (In retrospect, this is a good thing.)

The next night, I took five times the recommended dosage and had vivid nightmares but slept enough. (I thought it was unusual but didn't really think anything of it.)

The following night, I took five times the recommended dosage again. I had vivid nightmares and made every effort to wake up when I felt I was getting my head kicked in. As I woke up, still on that border between being asleep and awake, I saw someone standing in my room. I got up and threw a punch at him. I connected but didn't hit anything because it was a hallucination. (I thought it was kind of cool but ultimately decided to alter my path on the matter.)

The moral here is that I am continuously seeking that perfect level of equilibrium where I can be free while still being grounded in a healthy level of dependence.

Full dependence is destructive.

Independence can be a wonderful, glorious thing.

If you can manage to soar without crashing into the sun and the waves of the sea as your wax melts and betrays you.

Bloody melatonin. I didn't think you'd induce nightmares.

Drago!

You know what are some pretty good movies? The Rocky movies. A driving force behind the story of an underdog who goes the distance and then makes it to the top is the music.

At some point or another, you've probably done a few pushups while humming "Gonna Fly Now"

Admit it. Or don't.

Good movies (except for Rocky V) and pretty awesome music.

Whenever I listen to John Cafferty's "Hearts on Fire", I have to refrain from shouting "Drago!" at the top of my lungs.

I try to avoid "Eye of the Tiger" whenever possible. I'll admit it's a good song but it's not one I like to listen to. My reasoning for this is often paradoxical but still somewhat sensical, I believe.

"Eye of the Tiger" is the song that plays over the beginning of Rocky III, the film that introduced audiences to Mr. T. The song plays while Rocky is falling from grace and selling out, while Mr. T (note: I'm probably going to alternate between using Mr. T and Clubber Lang when referring to the same character) is training hard and making his way to the top to be the contender for the title Rocky holds.

Everyone uses the song as motivation to work out and in some way to motivate them to improve their lives and all that. It certainly is inspiring but people often seem to overlook that unlike most other songs from the Rocky movies, it's missing an awesome solo that accounts for at least 40% of the inspiration to get you off your ass and do something.

But what people also often overlook is that the song plays while Mr. T climbs to the top as Rocky descends. The song is being played while the "bad guy" succeeds and the "good guy" plummets.

While the song is about being an underdog it also serves to foreshadow and basically give away most if not all of the movie. The song also has the side effect of also rooting for Mr. T, who is supposed the villain of the movie.

All that at the surface level for conventional skimming thinking, at least.

The argument can be made that the real villain is Rocky or at the very least his fucking bullshit hubris and that Mr. T is just a dick who spurs Rocky to restart from the bottom and get his priorities straight. Not necessarily the villain or an antagonist but a foil because Rocky ultimately gets his act together and eventually goes on to beat the shit out of Clubber Lang. All thanks to Mr. T.

The other argument FOR the song is that it serves as a reminder to stay focused and stay true to yourself. Losing sight of where you came from, who you are, etc serves catastrophe. (Mick)

For what it's worth, the end result is better than what could have been: "You're the Best" playing as Mr. T rises and Rocky falls. It's a good song but it ultimately fits better in The Karate Kid more than it does in Rocky III.

"Eye of the Tiger" is a good song but I prefer "Hearts on Fire" when it comes to the best workout/motivation song from the Rocky series (aside from the permanent classic "Gonna Fly Now").Yeah. That's what's up.

At least, that's how it goes for me.

I believe that song carries a more focused depth, if that makes any sense.

The background for when the song is used is basically Rocky training to avenge Apollo and redeem himself / wash away some of the guilt of having let his friend die. Wouldn't you want to make things right?

You'll notice that for most of the time leading up to the training montage (and the more engaging part of the training montage), Rocky is pretty much half-assing it. Once the song kicks in, you can see him push himself further and harder while we see what he's up against.

It's rather genius to build up an enemy of the time that way as having advantages while Rocky basically pulls himself up from his bootstraps and ultimately conquers his foe. No, it's not propaganda at all. Is the message that America's number 1 and fuck the Commies? Is the message to believe in yourself? Is the message that in order to conquer others you must conquer yourself?

There are a few interpretations for this song.

"It's about motivating yourself to redeem yourself."
"Fight the odds and win."
"It's about motivating yourself to avenge others."

"It's about overcoming yourself in order to accomplish greater things" is probably my favorite because it rings the most true and encompasses other arguments cohesively. It details one's struggle to not only fight their environment and the factors that hold one down

Silent darkness creeps into your soul
and removes the light of self-control

but also realizing that the only limits we have are the ones we impose upon ourselves.

the cave that holds you captive has no doors

Realizing these things, one begins to have some motivation to change things.

burnin' with determination
to even up the score

Then there's more stuff about how far one has to go in order to change things, "Rules and regulations have no meaning anymore." I especially like how the moment of truth is mentioned and hinted at. X being whatever moment of truth you can think of. For Rocky, it's not only running up that fucking mountain to the top and ultimately pummeling Drago. Not only for Apollo (and America) but for himself.

Your moment of truth draws near.

This really seems to ring more true and genuine with the listener though that doesn't discount the plight of the underdog but gives a greater embrace to those who know something is eating them up but can't for the life of them overcome it alone or haven't begun to realize what they can do, who they can be, who they are. Upon realizing that, you're unstoppable.

The solo's pretty bitching, too.

xibalbainducekalopsia

Escribo sobre miedo frecuentemente. No escribo en español porque mi autoestima no lo permite. No creo en mi español, mi ortografía, mi vocabulario, etc. Creo en yo mismo, pero no creo lo suficiente para funcionar bien.

Escribo sobre miedo porque aunque digo que no soy cobarde, la realidad es que sí hay cosas que me dan miedo. Lo único que sé es que mis miedos no cuentan para nada. Es decir: los venceré. No sé cuando pero sí sé que los venceré. Triunfare y saldré adelante.

Mi tiempo en (y con) xibalba no es permanente. Todavía respiro aunque arde en hacerlo. Todavía vivo aunque mucho parece gris y sin color. Eso me digo cada vez que me encuentro con miedo. En turno, me caen las dudas como lluvia. Permanezco pero... ¿pertenezco?

No entiendo exactamente como es que entra kalopsia en estos asuntos. Sí, cosas parecen bellas pero no las son. Viene siendo por miedo, quizás. Una cantidad enorme que causa que la lógica se vuelva loca. 

¿Llueve sobre empapado?

Su perfume se burla de mi a veces. No le hace. Pronto, no se burlará de mi. No tendré la idea de que esta situación es una tragedia pero tampoco tendré en mente de que es una comedia o algo que solo se barre a un lado. Será algo que paso y que pasará de nuevo. No porque me repito o porque no puedo escapar o porque soy idiota pero porque así es la vida.

Tendré mi venganza. No para derrotar a otras personas pero para lograr victoria para mi. Lograré la victoria más profunda y significativa: sobre el ser mismo.

No se confundan: no voy a cometer suicidio. Solo haré cosas que me ayudaran mientras sigo adelante. No para ella, no para él, no para nadie. Para mi. 

No se cuando se me olvido que yo si cuento.

Juro que haré lo más posible para que no se me olvide de que yo sí importo.

Sin duda, el sol saldrá mañana.

Selcouth?

I've been here before. Many times. By that logic, this shouldn't be strange or unfamiliar but it is.

This place or state or whatever the hell you want to call it, seems to shift and change in some way shape or form each time.

Where a regular wooden chair once stood, there is either a bare mattress or a torn leather armchair. Each time, something seems so much more different though the air echoes with the past.

Her scent remains, dancing perpetually in front of me. Her scent was never there to uplift me or drive me happily fucking crazy or make me aware of the beauty around me. Her scent is buried so far deep in the past that it has become impossible to retrieve or salvage.

The end delivering a river of tears destroying dams. The end presenting a jungle set ablaze by an endless burning anger. The end with heavy sighing followed by a walk off into the sun. The end with an increasingly numb and confused monkey launched into the darkness of the night.

The same thing. Different. Each time.

It's strange, unfamiliar, and wondrous.

How the hell can the same thing that morphs each time be wondrous?

It morphs each time, revealing something new.

You learn something new every day.

Tacenda

There are a number of things we all want to drown in a deafening roar of anger, and general frustration. If not a roar, then it's something more involved. To confront people, stab them in the face (or cause them some degree of harm proportionate to the harm they might have caused one), and to be as destructive as one can until the blind rage fades away.

This is a bad idea.

When done for the wrong reasons.

As Mark Twain said:

"Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured."

Yes, you can angrily break someone's nose but what will that accomplish? In the workplace, the person punching will get fired without a second thought. The receiver will be seen as the victim even if they totally deserved it. Of course, that's a bad example because despite it being common, it's generally common sense to avoid physical altercations at the workplace.

If one were to hold a terrible grudge against someone else, the person holding the grudge would be inviting a host of problems like isolation from friends and family, ulcers, stressing themselves out, lack of concentration on things that actually matter, and- you get the point of that particular side. The person that's the target of the grudge probably doesn't notice, or even care.

The same argument holds for someone acting on the grudge- "I fucking hate that guy! I'm gonna kick his teeth in!" It's something that weighs heavily on you afterwards. Yes, you accomplished what you set out to do but at what cost? Could what they did really justify having their health ruined to a great extent? What revenge will they exact on you for this? Will the cyclical back-and-forth game of vengeance end?

A better solution is to let it go.

Let go whatever issue you have that has you so fired up and has your feathers all ruffled. Let it go. Let it destroy itself. Don't feed it your time. Don't feed it your energy. By letting go of it and not feeding it, you're guaranteeing that you are superior to whatever is trying to drag you down.

Instead, starve it.

Do things for yourself. Improve for yourself. You are more important than that thing that goes unsaid and ultimately has no importance.