My life as an experiment
I don't have any kids. I decided to not have kids a long time ago. I was very young, and I can remember thinking I wouldn't want a kid to grow up with a father like mine, so I chose to not be a dad. Ever. I have some regrets, I suppose, because I see how some dads have great relationships with their kids. I kinda envy that sort of connection. Family and all that. And so I make profound connections with pets, grieve them endlessly when they die, and live my life as something of an eccentric, I suppose.
What that does give me, though, is the chance to play and think and do things that a lot of parents don't. I know it seems some people manage to fit all manner of things into their lives, and so make more of them than anyone. Frankly I don't know how people do that. How people manage to have jobs or careers, businesses, hobbies, fit in further education, stuff like charity work, social lives AND still manage to be not just parents but effective, decent parents is beyond me. I just don't know how they do it.
Maybe it's because they don't overthink things. Maybe they just grew up with the kind of confidence that makes that shit happen, and they think nothing of it.
I know I do overthink things. I think. I think too much, I've been told. Even a therapist told me I think too much (to which I replied, "No, I just think more than you do".
But I do think. I enjoy thinking. And I have my brain. My mind.
My mind is what it is. I am what I am. And I guess that's how I'll start this blog. I'm who I am, I'm where I am, when I am, and this is the way things are. I'm 62 years of age, I'm married, I live in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in The United States of America.
And my life from this moment on is, I do declare, an experiment.
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I like the people who live their lives as experiments. I like the people who ask the fundamental questions, or explore existence more than most. I don't know why that is, but I do. I'm impressed by the likes of Alex Jones, who has questioned what he is in his art by looking at the human body and its systems and energy fields. I'm impressed by people like Masters and Johnson, who experimented with their own sexuality in order to answer basic questions about what sex actually is.I like Timothy Leary, who experimented with his own existence until the very end. He even recorded and televised his own death.
That kind of thing just gets me. I think it's fun. It's far more interesting to me than sport, for example.
It interests me that I feel humiliated at times. That "I" feel overwhelmed by self consciousness, or desire, or a need for recognition, or the desire for "privacy".
Who am I, that will be dead one day? What is my relationship with another person, who will, his or her self, be dead, one day? What is this life, this "me" that exists now, with all his needs and desires and wants and embarrassing moments, that will one day be extinguished and, perhaps, only my words live after me?
This thing called life fascinates me. This thing called mind fascinates me. This thing called "Me" fascinates me.
So, I devote it, "my life", "me", to the business of what the fuck I actually am.
Because chances are, it's you, too.
This is my life as an experiment.
What that does give me, though, is the chance to play and think and do things that a lot of parents don't. I know it seems some people manage to fit all manner of things into their lives, and so make more of them than anyone. Frankly I don't know how people do that. How people manage to have jobs or careers, businesses, hobbies, fit in further education, stuff like charity work, social lives AND still manage to be not just parents but effective, decent parents is beyond me. I just don't know how they do it.
Maybe it's because they don't overthink things. Maybe they just grew up with the kind of confidence that makes that shit happen, and they think nothing of it.
I know I do overthink things. I think. I think too much, I've been told. Even a therapist told me I think too much (to which I replied, "No, I just think more than you do".
But I do think. I enjoy thinking. And I have my brain. My mind.
My mind is what it is. I am what I am. And I guess that's how I'll start this blog. I'm who I am, I'm where I am, when I am, and this is the way things are. I'm 62 years of age, I'm married, I live in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in The United States of America.
And my life from this moment on is, I do declare, an experiment.
..................................
I like the people who live their lives as experiments. I like the people who ask the fundamental questions, or explore existence more than most. I don't know why that is, but I do. I'm impressed by the likes of Alex Jones, who has questioned what he is in his art by looking at the human body and its systems and energy fields. I'm impressed by people like Masters and Johnson, who experimented with their own sexuality in order to answer basic questions about what sex actually is.I like Timothy Leary, who experimented with his own existence until the very end. He even recorded and televised his own death.
That kind of thing just gets me. I think it's fun. It's far more interesting to me than sport, for example.
It interests me that I feel humiliated at times. That "I" feel overwhelmed by self consciousness, or desire, or a need for recognition, or the desire for "privacy".
Who am I, that will be dead one day? What is my relationship with another person, who will, his or her self, be dead, one day? What is this life, this "me" that exists now, with all his needs and desires and wants and embarrassing moments, that will one day be extinguished and, perhaps, only my words live after me?
This thing called life fascinates me. This thing called mind fascinates me. This thing called "Me" fascinates me.
So, I devote it, "my life", "me", to the business of what the fuck I actually am.
Because chances are, it's you, too.
This is my life as an experiment.
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