Brain Vomit

This Guinness is real tasty.  I just opened it.  It was slightly shaken and I had to carefully suck the spewed foam off the top of the can.  This is my least favorite part about drinking Guinness.  The foam tastes like a dirty finger.  It has a warm, slightly metallic, bitter taste to it.  It makes me wince. 

Now that the foam is gone, the actual liquid makes me very happy.  It has a smooth, slightly bitter but slightly sweet taste.  It’s the perfect afternoon beer.  I am anticipating opening the next one, sucking off the bitter foam and indulging in another first cold sip of the dark liquid life enhancer.

Regardless of what you may think, cigarettes and beer simply make every situation better, except, of course, the non-spectator side of sports.  My sober conversational skills could certainly use much improvement.  My drunken conversational skills have no limit, for better or worse.  There’s something to be said about knowing you had an in-depth, alcoholically articulate conversation with someone you never met while only digesting bits and pieces for retrieval a few days later.  Filling in the blanks of a previously drunken conversation is a great way to spend your sober time and expand your mind with all the possibilities of how the conversation actually flowed. 

It seems like it is getting harder to get people to drink alcohol.  All the things that make life enchanting (beer pong, flip cup, the inability for clothes to remain intact and attached to a living being) are becoming more and more faux pas as society progresses. 

I suppose it’s no secret that the rulebook of social acceptance is like a giant rubber band that expands and contracts to each extreme over time.  Unfortunately, my time on this planet has the rubber band contracting towards ultraconservitism.   Smoking and drinking are becoming evil again and life is becoming stale.  Television and music are simply a nonalcoholic smoothie made in a corporate blender at a high speed with very little ingredients.   It has no flavor, no color, is room temperature and tastes the same every time, however, perfectly consumable by the masses.

I think I’ll drink a few more Guinness, smoke another pack of cigarettes, and go to bed.

Here’s to Ireland.

Today is my last day in New Mexico.  As usual, I’m torn on how I feel about this situation.  I can feel that my heart wants me to stay here, at least for a long while.  My emotions are focused on how this environment is both new and old to me.  

On one hand, I’m around my cousin that I grew up with and she’s the only person who can consistently make my self-destructive analytical obsession with the wrongs of the world disappear and also bring my conditions of life into perspective. 

The unexplored geography and variety of people she works and lives with indulge my curious side.  This is a totally new environment and I find that very exciting.  I feel like I’m physically and mentally unconstrained here.  Perhaps most importantly, being this detached from my normal environment where society is directly in my face gives me an overwhelming feeling of freedom to really contribute something to world.

I suppose, if I absolute had control over my life, I’d get my cats, some of my toys, buy a cheap truck, and just live here for the next few years.  If someone offered me a job where I could telecommute from here, I would take it in a heartbeat.  I’d leave everyone behind.  My current dream is to collect a paycheck, buy the essentials, pay my bills, and give the rest to the sanctuary in lieu of rent or volunteerism. 

Unfortunately, that is not going to happen.  What does this mean for me?  Back to Pittsburgh to rejoin the game hoping I can have enough self-control to pay my way out of the game.  I want to be free to explore my own creativity without the cloud of responsibility fogging up my mind. 

I’ve been trying to get some of my female friends in Pennsylvania to go for long walks at night with me.   The usual response is an amused expression followed by a question related to my sanity.  Last night, however, I asked one of the girls here to go for a long walk and the response was unexpected.  It seemed perfectly reasonable to her and so we went.  I learned much about her.  I learned that she is pretty much the female version of me.  We didn’t talk about anything very personal, but the conversation never ended or resorted to meaningless banter.  I will remember that walk the rest of my life. 

Would one of the girls back home have a night like that with me?  Or is it simply a completely different mindset?  I’m curious as to whether once the “Why walk?” barrier is conquered if they’d enjoy it as much as I would or as much as I did last night?  Perhaps it’s only that good when it’s with a complete stranger.  I wonder how she felt last night.  Maybe this is completely normal for her and thus an average day.

Either way, I want more.  I don’t like regurgitating information that flows through the mainstream (or underground) media sources.  I have no intimate knowledge of any of that garbage and thus it lacks the validity I require for personal reflection and interpretation.   I simply don’t give a shit and anyone who does will simply never get more than a word or two out of me. 

I guess, from a mental stability standpoint, the question is how long can I continue to maintain my sanity in a stale environment that I’ve lived in my entire life?  I need to explore the minds of new people of a different mindset.  That is why I’m here and that is why I do not want to leave.   I want to compare my thoughts, interests, and analytical results with a different breed of human beings.  There is no end goal and there is no answer I’m looking for.  I’m not trying to achieve mental perfection nor am I trying to purposely assimilate the insight of others into my own perception, I’m simply fascinated by intimate experiences of others.

If there is a question as to what I’m looking for in life, the simple answer is: nothing and everything.  I have come to the realization that there is no single thing that will ever completely occupy my time to the end of my life.  I constantly need change and will never be able to settle down in any one place with any one group of people.  That is not to say I could never spend the rest of my life with a single woman as my companion, it is to say she must share in my quest for mind expansion.   

I never know what I’m searching for next.  I don’t even know what it is while I’m searching for it.  I simply know when life has become stale it is time to find the new spark.  The flow of exploration must continue for me to be a live.  Otherwise, I’m simply like the robots I build and the middle class yuppies who die confused as to why they played the game well but still ended up on their deathbed, that they’ve slept in for the last twenty years.  To prevent that situation is to prevent my own suicide.