Musashi Mix Inq

Palliativity 115 :)

Posted on January 27, 2011

me

I’ve been asked recently if i’m happy. The answer: Yes. Really? YUP…

Growing up different is tough, but the lessons learned are invaluable. Chronic-physical pain has a temporing power like the forging of iron; a violent reminder of what strength is and how it must be paid for. I have never stopped being fascinated with life; the world is more beautiful than a mere plastic bag in the wind. Happiness: the sea against the sand; a constant, surging restructuring of life, excitement and all its fractalled randomness… with a LoLcat on top.

This blog isn’t just about agnst. My life isn’t all about pain.

Here’s a pretty normal day for me:

  • Wake up a bit opiate-groggy, to find a love note from my parter on the kitchen table
  • Take to the first floor of our 3-flat to drop down at my desk
  • Share coffee with my father/boss over a little edgy sitcom banter to warm-up our minds
  • Do graphic design, web-work and get some art-work done, blog?
  • ice/lidocaine/analgesics/lunch when necessary
  • Teach judo to special needs kids and am thankful for the chance to share the purest smiles         and most genuine laughter on earth
  • Return home to the arms of my partner and a warm meal
  • reassess, regroup and medicate, goodnightkiss*
  • *insomnia optional

    Although I am certainly of my generation in some regards, I know that I don’t really fit in to the crowd—> I am 27, married and live in a multigenerational household (with my parents in the family homestead) and work part-time in the famliy bussiness. I have three part-time jobs actually, and have multiple volunteer/community commitments as well. I was able to get my bachelor’s in 4 years without loans and have surprisingly put what I learned at college to use EVERY DAY.

    My current situation is somewhat unbelievable to the Greatest Generation. By my age, they had the secure job, three kids and more than one good suit. They would have already bought the house and the car in that neighboorhood with the good school. We still live in that same house. They didn’t spend half of their paychecks on medicine. I’m sure they’d still rather have a jet-pack than an electric car, but when you’ve been rocketting along on excess, it’s hard to settle for the future that has been wrought.

    Fight the Future ——————-

    My grandparents, imprisoned, looked out into the cloudless desert sunset and knew that somewhere beyond this cage was a land of the free. Somewhere there was a place for them to call home. Whenever I doubt myself or my direction, I look back to the past and remember. With a little gaman, we’ll make out alright, just like they did.

    —————… Save the Past

    I’m happy with where I am though. As much as I have studied, conducted interviews and created artwork about the 40s and 50s, I like the present and anticipate an even stranger, more wonderous future… possibly with jetpacks 🙂

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