Saturday, February 21, 2009

number five


"I hate to walk behind other people's ambition.
He got nervous.
Started whistling.
Every thought a ricochet."



I often just want to sit down with a friend or a stranger and take pieces out of their minds.


It has always been amusing to me how others minds work, and it has gotten me to thinking. What is the right way to think about others? I guess we all meddle, and meddle often. The real question is, is meddling okay? I have heard from some of the people who are much smarter and more versed then me, that meddling is inevitable.


If we are going to meddle, I guess we should meddle in a good way. This creates a problem that I seem to have been facing ever since I learned what the word ignorant meant (although I still don’t know what it means). It seems to me that to put oneself in a place where we can “meddle well,” that we somehow know more then whatever we are meddling.


And so it is, that I have made the choice to try to understand others the best way possible. I like to listen, and although I will always have my own thoughts on the matter, I will not always share them, because they might be irreverent. Also my mom always told me, that all problems that one faces must be solved alone. We can lend a helping hand often, but that will not help. The only thing that will is a therapeutic smile and sometimes a hand held on a park bench.


Someone once told me they were on a walk, where they encountered a doctor who appeared in quite poor health. The doctor asked for help, and the person explained that there was nothing they could do for them that they couldn’t do for them self. The doctor told the person that they indeed could help. Just holding their hand, and sitting for a while. All the doctor needed was a hand to hold and a therapeutic smile.


I guess it is this kind of story where I start to understand that help might not be the common definition where meddling is needed Sometimes the help that someone needs is not what I first think of, although I love problem solving and always will (its just how my mind works).


A silent conversation, a park bench, a smile, watching a father tie his daughters shoe, being a part of something unexpectedly nice, a painting, the reflection in the water, the sound of rain, the smell of October, and any other something that somehow fixes problems.


Sometimes when there is a problem its best just to express. Write a story, sing a song, draw a picture, paint something, make something, cook something, play something, or go to sleep.


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Last night I had this dream where I was shot by a gun. The bullet entered my back and hurt a lot. I have never had a dream that I can remember where I was ever shot, and it was very weird. I don’t really understand why I had it, and what it means. However I didn’t die. I guess I need to go to sleep so I can find out the next step.


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Sometimes I think I was much better at writing when I was younger. I always had ideas, and my stories were always amazing. Or at least I thought they were pretty amazing. I was an abstract child.


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Really the best part of life are conversations with people. I want to talk to some little kids and ask them questions that no one ever asks little kids. Like what they think about life, like what they are thinking about right now, what makes them happy? I want to talk to some grandmas and grandpas and ask them what is on their minds. I just want to know what it would be like to use someone else’s brain.


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I had a cold last week, and it wasn’t too much fun. But today I feel a lot better. I like that.




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