You think too much.

Lots of contemplation happening these days. Life-long friends seem to be asking the same questions and running into similar confusions, experiencing similar epiphanies.

If there really is something dramatic happening in the collective, it’s not enough for anybody to freely talk about. I also doubt the importance of advertising it here. Then I often question whether I am a victim of my own subjectivity, taking my mental filter of reality too seriously.

TV and movies are talking about the similar subject matter… secrets revealed, the mayans exposed, what 2012 means, the paranormal, the unexplainable, doomsday.

Does nobody else think this is strange?

Does anybody else think this should have been on the news more than Tiger Woods?

It blows my mind what the media brushes aside, what they fixate on, and what the mass is okay with absorbing every single night on the tube.

It also blows my mind that we still play the game of following or voting for politicians, pastors, or school faculty who often make a valiant effort to hide anything human about themselves.

Why don’t we think rituals like church communion or even the opening ceremonies for the Olympics are a little strange (i.e., people in white robes zombie-flocking to the speech-master)? Do we ignore original ideas or questions in our mind relating to why we do things the way we do?

Why do priests wear conical hats and peculiar robes, and carry that staff around? Why does the clergy stick to the same structure that breeds child molesters? What is psychological reason for it, despite its self-declared connection to God? What if God doesn’t like religion? What if God doesn’t “like”?

Why does a graduating class wear a square hat at graduation, move the tassel to the side, and throw it up in the air? Why do we agree to participate in rituals without asking or knowing what it all means?

Why does the newspaper blatantly insist that we drink fluoridated water? Is it really good for us? If so, why did the Nazis immediately add fluoride to their prisoners’ water supply?

Why do so many relationships end with break-up lines from movies or t.v. shows? Why does anybody think “The Bachelor” is reality/real? Why are extremo-masculine and extremo-feminine themes in movies something enjoyed and sought after in real life? See: The Transporter or The Time Travelers Wife.

Why are we okay with repeating empty catch-phrases when giving somebody advice?

Why Bill O’Reilly? Why not Marilyn Manson?

Why are we okay with presidents hiring speech-writers instead of saying their own words?

Why do we try to find security or salvation in other people or things?

Why do sunsets make sense?

Real Life

We had a family gathering at the house to celebrate my sister’s stay in ABQ for a few days. Tim, my sister’s boyfriend, flew in to join the family bash today. Everyone brought their dogs along with things like chips ‘n dip.

My camera went missing for about 10 minutes, then I found this picture on the camera when I got it back:

Mum made pork loin for dinner. I often get curious about what new company may experience at our dinner table. There’s never really a stable conversation exchanged about usual life-things; mostly a lot of gags based on previous jokes. I don’t even know if our interaction is funny or even understandable to outsiders.

After dinner, Mum and I had a conversation about her encounter with a spiritual medium when she was a teenager, and how most of the medium’s predictions about her life came true. I asked her if she thought it was an overall positive or negative experience. She said that at first she thought it was silly, then later was a little freaked out about it, and came to think it was evil. Intrigued, I told her about past semi-psychic experiences I’ve had where some of my dreams contained events which later came true, which seemed to be positive for me.

These are the conversations I like to have with my mum.

Moment of Highest Tension

This is usually the time of year where the cold is somehow not that cold anymore, despite dreadful numerical readings on the thermometer. It is during this part of the season when I often consider buying a new jacket for the last time.

Tonight I met up with Tommy and Dustin to hang out, talk band and discuss the drummer situation. Cabernet was present, so as time progressed, the conversation sort of metamorphosed into unrelated offensive humor, a bit of unsettling man-gossip, and then to metaphysical theories on paranormal phenomena.

Sometimes while I’m absorbed in these types of conversations, I tune in to what I’m verbalizing and try to seek out the line between profundity and ignorance. If I decide on profundity, I then try to find the line between wonderment and arrogance.

The line of truth does not always immediately present itself. When I reach no conclusion on what the source of my words are based, and hence a way to comfortably and confidently proceed with the topic, my physiology may change, a sweat drop may form. Then, amongst the moment of highest tension and fear of being found out or questioned, I wave my hands around in the air, relax, and say: “Hey, hey guys? WWJD.” And everything is perfect again.