The Glue

I found something. A key, a piece, a marker, a theory of emerald stone. The universe and everything in it revolves around a simple concept, among others. But the idea that prevails and rules above all is movement. This transposes well to either physical, scientific things or metaphysical, mental concepts. The universe, in its physical manifestation is built around movement. The big bang led to an expansion of atoms and particles, yielding stars and planets and gas and stone, etc. Orbits yield seasons and years; thus time is an idea of movement, constant that is. All matter is based on the concepts of kinesthetics, of moving atoms and particles that produce solids, gases, or liquids. The human body is based around movement, electricity in the synapses, oxygen throughout the body, blood, semen and eggs that yield life. Heat and cold are concepts of molecular movement. There are chemical bonds that slow movement. Science too yields a concept parallel to that of societal ideas of home, of belonging and loneliness. These bonds are never permanent, as are homes and comfort as time rips these away, as the constant motion continues. Home, though, can exist as a point in time, something impenetrable by movement, like a fact, a truth. But this argues that facts and homes never really exist; permanence may be an illusion. A device to overcome the one fact of constant motion and a need for motion, but also a need for stability to keep moving. Society leans toward progress, towards change. Its the life cycle, travel, promotions, music, movies, food, books, everything in civilization, in humanity is based on movement of some type. Moving towards more food, toward safe shelter, progression. Toward arable land, toward survival. Intertwining Darwin here. Movement is also part of adaptability, but evolution does not concern emotions or the physical manifestation of the universe. We strive for movement, for escape. That is key, escape. Whether children are excited to eat sugar to get "sugar high", or teens do drugs and alcohol or watch sci-fi or love gossip, it all involves escape. College is a more physical representation of escape but more so on an educational level apart from whatever "home" they came from. Early adulthood-adulthood yields alcoholism, drug use, or marriage and dating, escaping oneself to understand another. Older people tend to accept their fate of desiring escape and generally pine for the old days or live through others like family. ESCAPE and MOVEMENT. These are key fundamentals and human ideas.
At least this all connects at a personal level. I love the times when I am on the move, especially on the open road, with so much freedom, so much movement. I love to walk, to run, to move to fly, anything that gets me away from where I was.
Maybe this is all obvious. But everything makes so much more sense. Yes, there is still a shitload more, but now I know that answers do exist. Whether or not I can apply it personally or globally is up to me, but time will tell. I've always wondered why I'd been depressed for so long and suicidal, not because I wanted to cease to exist, but to escape. To leave and never to return, but there's a whole world and 6.5 billion other people to escape to. I long with all my soul and heart for a home, but with that is a lonesome longing for travel. For experience? Perhaps, but more so for movement, for change, for progress, for evolution. Man's infatuation with time travel, cars, airplanes, fiction, history, the internet. All forms of escape, of travel, of movement. Satisfaction is a false idea generated by hope, it doesn't really exist in a stationary form. Satisfaction lies in hope itself.

Home is Where The Home Is

Do you ever feel that you set a time in the future where you plan all these amazing things youre gonna do like travel the world and have kids and learn cello and go to a drive in movie and sleep in the snow and read the bible all the way through? And then youre supposed to "find yourself" or realize the purpose?
As far as I can tell as a meek observer, our society is extremely hostile to this. BE BORN CRY LEARN LEARN WORK LEARN LEARN WORK EMOTION EMOTION HORMONE WORK WORK WORK EARN PAY PAY MARRIAGE CHILD WORK EARN PAY WORK EARN PAY WORK EARN OBLIGATORY GOLF/BOOK CLUB WORK EARN PAY WORK EARN PAY SMILE WORK EARN PAY CRY WORK EARN PAY PRIDE WORK EARN PAY SHAME WORK EARN PAY RETIRE EARN PAY EARN PAY HEART DISEASE EARN SLEEP SLEEP DIE. Its a goddamn cycle I tells ya, a cycle of excruciatingly meaningless proportions. How is anything ever going to be intrinsic and artistic and meaningful if everyone begins to pulled into this cycle. This is more important than anything, than Obama than Iraq than terrorism than global warming than cancer. Because what is their purpose and meaning if we dont even know. And Im taking the pleasure of using the royal "we". I havent really talked to anyone about this. But Im just trying to get some meaning from everything and its the hardest Ive ever had to try to do and probably the hardest thing Ill ever do. But hwo can I continue if I dont know where Im going to and why? I'm late, Im early to what? I have a flat tire, but who cares? A hybrid 35 mpg highway mileage is just as good as a 2 mpg hummer if you don't even know who you are.
And I can feel the answer is there, waiting for me to find it. I dont know what it is, an answer sounds dumb. Maybe a certain person or a song or a book or an idea or a blade of grass. I don;t know what it is and Im not even sure ill know what it is if I come across it, but I know it exists, thats for sure, or at least thats as far as my wishful thinking will lend itself. And I cant find it here, stuck in this safe haven of insecurity, fear, and naivety. Sounds like a terrible place, right? My feelings and visions of home are filled with these ideas and concepts and I cant wait to leave. This place may be as good as any other to an unbiased passerby; it has its resources and is generally suitable for most. Too many bad thoughts plague these asphalt streets, down to the sickly winds and up to the weeping drone of traffic. I made this place a hell and I have to leave and never do the same again. Its too late for redemption, my home is gone and I have not yet found my new one. And it is being built. It is being built by abstract concepts. By logic, by beauty, by compassion, and by reason, and by comprehension. They have fled from this place. I cant picture a new home right now, of any kind. I can't imagine getting along with any group or anything right now. Everything is alienating.

Home can exist, comfort can exist. I just have a hard time believing it.

I hate the staying power of illness and discomfort. I can never remember why I feel desperate or angry or scared, and usually its some ill-remembered dream that made me this way. My dreams usually consist of something important or scary happening and me not knowing what to do in them or me dealing them badly. The thing is I cant remember any specifics, so I have no way of knowing whether something actually went wrong in my waking life or just my dreaming state. Can't I get a break from emotion? Dreams suck, actually. If I wanted to dream I would watch TV or read a book. They are interesting, when I they can be recalled though. A lot of them have to do with failure or music....what would Freud say? The music ones are mostly positive, except when I was giving John Lennon a ride and drove off the Golden Gate. He was probably pissed.
Time moves way too fast. I've probably mentioned this before, but I feel like its not just me, but that someone changed the clocks to move faster. It might be because I haven't listened to that much music recently, its all sporadic. I cant recall the last time I listened to a full album, beginning to end.
Whenever I am very tired, or ingest some toxic-like substance, my legs, and specifically, knees hurt. It happens all the time and its very strange. So if I ever complain about knee pains, Im probably either irritable due to lack of sleep or on an acid trip. Either way, stay away from me.
How long did it take Kings of Leon to find the exact right settings for their guitars? Because its perfect. And same with Hendrix. Is it just their guitars or did they just turn some knobs? Maybe my guitars are just crappy.
I played video games for the first time in about 3 months. For a while recently I felt the urge to buy more, but now I see I wont play them and they dont seem that much fun without other people to play with. And I don't see the reason for collecting records that much anymore, which is the one thing I like to do. At least at this moment, nothing seems capable of satisfying by unknown desires.
Hopefully, thats just leg-hurtin' talk.

You thought I'd leave you, huh? I almost did. I was reading my past entries and realized the whole conundrum eardrum fee-fi-fo-fummery of poetry and writing. Logically, its all a bunch of shit. Seriously, "jingle jangle morning"? What the fuck? It doesn't mean anything. To try to reasonably extract some sort of meaning is very hard to do, and even when one can, its just for the sake of finding real meaning. that's why books and songs (less so poetry) are so special because you can't "scientifically" prove their power and in animal minds they mean nothing. Perhaps it is the human power to create aesthetic meaning for these incomprehensibles. Of course, a lot of it is actual crap artsy-fartsy whatnot, but what isn't is amazing and how we can enjoy it is beyond me. And the fact that it takes such little time to create something so massive and interpretable (take Dylan's ten minute writing of Blowin In The Wind or Kerouac's few weeks of writing On The Road) is astounding to say the least, sure most of it is stream of consciousness, but if it comes from the mind than surely it must be more than nonsense.