Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in enosdrive's LiveJournal:

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Friday, July 25th, 2008
1:44 pm	Sick as a Little Doggie Man, it's really hard to do moving stuff when you got a real bad cold. It's like, pack boxes, blow your nose every two minutes, pack boxes, lug boxes, dissasssemble furniture, blow your nose, feel like crap, cough dust, clean out the fridge, hack, cough, sneeze, scrub the floors one last time, feel like death, etcetera. The movers moved their moving-my-stuff-to-the-new-place-date to tuesday (at least for now, I'm betting that'll change again), so I have a few days to be a big, lethargic blob before I drive to my new place. I've done lotsa cryin' and had to say lotsa sad goodbyes, Wednesday nite was the hardest one. That was the hardest one. It's kinda bittersweet, cuz it's gut-wrenchingly sad to be wrenched away from people you love in order to go on a stupid internship, but then again, I've known people who've never experienced that kind o' love in their lives, man. Oh, tears, and I think this cold is making me more vulnerable to Emotion Mind. (Comment on this)
Friday, July 18th, 2008
1:51 pm	Sad Poopiness Thanks for the comments yesterday, K, C, and R, they made me laugh! Hah. Man, today's a sad one. Had to say goodbye to 2 very important figures in my life, then I went off and bawled my eyes out. Driving while you do that probably ain't a good idea, but at least I got to my destination. That's a good thing. Okay, now more moving poopstuff. (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 17th, 2008
12:50 pm	Oh, this is way too long! I was thinking about karma this morning, as I often do, man. Yesiree. See, my recent thinking has been as follows. In the past I usedta think of karma as something where everything gets all nice and neat and clean and evened out. If you fuck up someone's shit in this life, they fuck up your shit in the next life, and thus everything is all evened out, and all the karma is washed away. But, then I realized, in recent months, that nothing's washed away. I fuck up your shit in this life, and that creates bad karma, so you fuck up my shit in the next life. But when you fuck up my shit, rather than washing away the bad karma I created in the last life, it just creates new bad karma for you. That's what I think. So, now we both have bad karma, and it just bounces back and forth, and we keep on fucking up each other's shit in our future lifetimes, over and over and over and over, and the karma just builds up. It becomes like deep ruts in a muddy road that gets all hard and entrenched, and the like. I was thinking, wow, that's rather messy. Then I realized, well, yes. We live in a messy world, and a messy universe, to boot. A friend reminded me last night of what the chaos theorists say: the universe is going toward more and more entropy. It's gettin' more and more turbulent and messy and messed up. So, I realize, yeah, it makes a lot of sense. We all have this build-up of negative energy followin' us around, and it's gettin' worse and worse and creatin' all this entropic messiness. What I'm wonderin' is how all those Buddhas and Jesus-type figures were able to clean their karma away. Or maybe Jesus wasn't able to, cuz he got nailed to a cross, after all. It seems like the only way to get rid of this shit is to consciously recognize that it's there, and release it somehow. I mean, I learned a way of doing that, and it seems to work. But there are so many countless bad-karma-tendrils, that I'm struggling with how to get a fix on all of them. Maybe I cain't. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, July 14th, 2008
1:12 pm	"The Joys of Walking" Stamps In the post office today, I witnessed "The Joys of Walking" stamps being offered to a legless man. No, just kidding. The customer was me, and the stamps were "Love" stamps. But the analogy is so perfect. Or maybe it should be "The Joys of Vision" stamps being offered to a blind person. Or "Jazz" stamps for a deaf person. Yeah, wow, you can make up all kinds of things. I just stood there, staring at my 2 choices of love stamps, either big, red poofy hearts or white, swirly hearts. The lady must've seen my look o' dismay, cuz she said, "Would you like 'forever' stamps instead?" I said yes. That was nice. Now that I think of it, it's kinda interesting, cuz the picture on the Forever stamps is the Liberty Bell, the symbol of freedom. That's, seemingly, the one good thing about bein' single, y'know the freedom aspect of it. Maybe I'll find other good things about it, over the years and years and years and years and years and years and years and years of it I have yet to live. My stupid professional organization are a bunch of loser fuckheads cuz their invitation to their dumb banquet was "Please join us and bring your significant other for an afternoon of fun" or whatever it was. That made me grumpy cuz they're assuming EVERYBODY has a significant other. That pissed me off, so I didn't go. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, July 12th, 2008
3:55 pm	Death Village Condominiums I was driving by a bunch of newly built houses, out in the country, mind you, but they were all stuck together like row-houses, in order to save space. It reminded me of when I was driving down El Camino a few months ago, and there are a fucking million and a half new condo complexes springing up (too bad cuz they're replacing all the shops and restaurants, so Mountain View, Los Altos, and Palo Alto are turning into condoshitland). I nicknamed one of the condo complexes "Death Village Condominiums." The ones I saw today I nicknamed "Condo Hellish Death Land." Jung sez that when you dream about clothes, you're dreaming about your Persona, or the public self. The self that you show to the world and other people, the self with all the social graces, and the like. Almost every time I dream about clothes, I'm having a hard time picking them out, and they're all frumpy. I wonder if my public self really is a more frumpier version of me (than the self I consider myself to really be). I mean, I wonder if that means that the self that I present to society is sorta bland and boring and ordinary and dull and plain and formal a little bit (cuz the clothers are usually a bit dressy). They ain't the type o' clothes I wear in real life. And it's funny I have so much trouble deciding which ones to wear. Sorta makes sense, what with the trouble I've had choosing a poopy career, and the like. Now that I think it it, those dreams probably are pretty much on-the-mark, in terms of representing my persona. Funny, cuz most people I meet wouldn't describe me as bland and boring and ordinary and dull and plain and formal, but if they knew what the rest of me was like, they probably would realize that the self I'm presenting to them is more bland and boring and ordinary and dull and plain and formal than I really and truly am on the inside. Sometimes, though, I dream about layers and layers of really colorful, really revealing tank tops that I'm wearin'. They don't cover enuff o' me, but I'm wearing about 3 or 4 at a time (the kind with spaghetti-string strap thingies). I wonder if that means that I wear my colorful emotions on my sleeve and that leaves me a little bit more naked than I'd like to be. Funny how different these 2 versions of the persona are. Oh, crap, I'm blathering too much. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, July 9th, 2008
12:25 pm	Stress and Nice Stuff Oh, man, I submitted requests for some movin' companies to get in touch with me about a dumb rate quote for dumb moving, but ain't heard back, so that means I'll have to call 'em, and I'm phone shy, and all this dumb grown-up stuff makes me all stressed out. Dang, man. I mean, like, I keep on tellin' me that the dumb move is only driving-distance away, so the WORST that could happen is I'd have to do it myself, borrow some trucks or something, I dunno, but I dunno. Stress is dumb and stressful. The smoke in the air colors the sunlight a funny goldish brown that makes it look like this worldy-poo is havin' some weird disaster or something. Man. And, it's hot, too blazin' hot poops. Hotpoops. No, I should just go ahead and call these dumb moving companies and get it over with, man. Hopefully, I'm givin' them enuff lead time, but I dunno if I am, man. I just thought I'd really compartmentalize my life, and spend last week finishin' up at the clinic, and then once I was done, devote my time entirely to the dumb move, and not mix them together, cuz I can only take so much anxiety at a time. Bleh, bleh, bleh. I've been thinkin' 'bout what a different world the land of clinical psychology is from the land of experimental psychology. It's odd and funny. As I prepare to move poops, I'm realizin' all the wonderful connections I've made with my supervisors and stuff in the land of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, and how we're all, "keep in touch," and even makin' tentative future plans about workin' together when I'm done with my internship-poops. It's such a big old huge contrast with when I left good old Dartmouth and really didn't have much at all in the way of connections. I dunno, man. Maybe it's just me that's changed, but the thing I like about clinical psych is that it's such a difficult, difficult, exceedingly difficult job, that everybody benefits when we help each other out. Y'know, consult with each other and provide moral support. It seems like, in the land of experimental psych, and academia, in general, people nurture their connections with other people, only if it advances their careers, in some way. It's all mercenary and shit. It's funny to feel like I found my callin', man, cuz I feel like this is a career where I get to use the best parts o' myself to help other people have better lives than they otherwise woulda had. That's an nice thing. Okay, back to stressin'. (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 3rd, 2008
5:43 pm	Branch Faires I invented a new game cuz I was procrastinating. Try making up some dumb, weird, random turn of phrase and then try Googling it. I googled "Branch Faires" cuz it was completely random and just sorta came outta that dark, quiet part o' my mind that calls itself the unconscious. When I tried it, I saw lotsa stuff for "Branch Fairs" (without the "e" on the end of "faire"). It looked like some sort of business thing. SHit, I should do the stuff I'm procrastinating about. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 1st, 2008
2:59 pm	Car Wash Oh, dear lord, I've just spent an hour pooping around on the internet. Oh, goodness me. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. I may go soon and get me a nice little car-wash, although I wonder how complicated it is. It's easy if you buy gas, cuz they ask if you'd like to buy a carwash. But, shoot, what if you have to go inside and pay them before going through the car wash? Or what if the machine thingy only takes cash, and alls I have is credit card. See, that's my world, man. I live in the world of worries. I guess the worst that can happen is I drive on up there, and I somehow cain't pay, then I'll try and back up, and it might have those little spikey things that give you a flat tire if you drive over them wrong. No, I'm just gonna do it. That's all there is to it. I'm just a-gonna go ahead and do it, man. Oh, yeah, I finalllly, after an about 3 week hiatus, posted a new song on my songblog, if you wanna check it out. But you don't have to. I'm not sure how good it is yet, cuz sometimes songs seem better when you first write them than they do later. And sometimes they grow on you. I wasn't excited at all about this song when I first recorded it, but it grew on me. But, I'm not sure. I'm just not sure. (Comment on this)
Monday, June 30th, 2008
12:54 pm	Mmmmmaaaaaaaayyyyyyyybbbbbbbbeeeeeeee I should be working instead o' blogging, man. That's the truth of it. Poopskadoops. I gotta put that new song on that songblog, too, gotta do that. Many things to do, man. Oh, man-alive. I mmmmmaaaaayyyyy have a job for next year, but I don't wanna jynx it. Maybe I'm jynxing it by saying it is a possibility in the first place. Ah well. I'm learning that networking is a good thing, but the mode in which I operate is to get to know people by working with them. I suck at the whole go-to-the-work-related-social-event-and-shake-people's-hands thing, cuz, like, I have to wipe my hand on my pants so people don't know I have sweaty palms. (Comment on this)
Friday, June 27th, 2008
5:42 pm	Oh, goodness, I may start a-sniffling more cat pictures (4 Comments |Comment on this)
3:35 pm	Psychotherapy: The Profession of Death Hmmm, I'm poopy not sure what to talk about today, man. Maybe I won't talk about much. I hates bein' a therapist. No, I mean, I really do like it, but the one aspect I hate, hate, hate, hate about it is havin' 2 say goodbye to clients. It's the suckiest poopy-poop thing in the world. Does it get easier, man? I mean, okay, final session, and then it's goodbye forever. And it's like, they'll go on and live their lives, and then they'll die; and, similarly, I'll go on and live my life, and I'll die, and we'll never see each other, and then we'll be dead.  It's weird. I mean, I talked to a supervisor the other day, and we talked about that very issue, and he talked about all the people we meet up with in our regular lives, who we never see again; and it's like, when you part, you say, "hey, keep in touch!" Remember our old high-school year books? People would write their phone numbers in 'em and then they'd write, next to 'em, "K.I.T.", as in, "keep in touch." And I'd think to myself, I've never called you before, why would I start callin' you now, just cuz it's summer vacation? Or just cuz we're graduatin', and all? There're lots of people we'll never see again, even though we have very good intentions to see 'em again. But, of course, we lose touch if there ain't enuff of a connection to keep things going.  So, I mean, you could say it's kind of like that when you say goodbye to clients. But, when the separation is so enforced, it really brings it front and center. In the soon-time, I will be dead to my clients, and they will be dead to me. Similarly, me and my therapist will be dead to each other, cuz I have to move and stop seein' him. Argh. I mean, sure, we'll carry around nice memories of each other, right? And we can imagine each other going on to live nice, happy lives. But, in real life, we're facin' each other's deaths. This is the profession of death. I mean, when I came on-board the Psychotherapy Boat, and decided to start a-learnin' this stuff, I thought, oh, how nice, helping people. I didn't know I'd have to face death so often. It's poopy. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 25th, 2008
12:03 pm	Sadness and Smoke It's kind of a trip, all these fires happening here in California, cuz, like I had my sliding door open last night while I slept, cuz if I don't keep it open, it gets too hot. And, like, my 'partment got all smoky. The sunlight is kind of brownish yellow. Oh, crap, I just thought of something I need to do! I swear, my to-do list gets longer and longer and longer. This is a boring entry. I'm feeling gigantic blobs of sadness floating over my head, for many reasons. There are too many reasons to be sad these days, just so many dang reasons, man. Countless reasons. I've come to the conclusion that in a past life, I was separated from my people, whoever they were, and I never saw them again. That makes me sad. Cuz, everytime I have some kind of loss, it feels more like millions of years of loss, rather than the loss that it is, on the face of things. It's like I'm re-living my past life losses every time I have a loss. It's funny how things happen, and your past lives come back to haunt you. And something about our spirits, something about the way they're constructed, makes us likely to hold on to the pain of a million years of loss, rather than to just let it go, man. Just let it go, dude. Does anyone know how to get clay cat litter outta carpet? My cats tracked it onto the carpet, with little wet feet, I think, and now I cain't get it out. Shit, dude. And I cain't find crap on the internet. I haven't posted any songs of the week for a while, but I just don't feel like doing anything creative or fun these days. I just wanna hide under my bed. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 24th, 2008
3:54 pm	IT's kind of funny, cuz I'm in a profession, where we're supposed to instill hope in people, and the funny thing is, the times I have tried to do it, I'm, like, so full o' shit. I mean, I already said it before, the thing about how givin' up hope can be a nice thing. I mean, I guess I don't have to say it, and the like. No, I guess I have almost nuthin' to say today. The whole world's filled with sadness, it seems like sometimes. Sometimes I think about the fact that the one constant in the universe is that everything continually changes. I'm one of those people who wants everything to stay the same, well, except when I'm feeling like shit. Then I guess I want things to change. Like those autistic people; you change one teeny tiny little thing in their environment, and they freak out, cuz they realize, better'n most people, that you have just changed the enviornment in its entirety, just by changing that one little thing, that one little piece-of-lint-sized thing. I don't care.  (Comment on this)
Saturday, June 21st, 2008
11:43 am	Tonglen I started typing an email to a man named Joe, but I accidentally typed "Jose." That was funny. But I fixed it. My kitty has a sore eye (that happens a lot). It's her left eye, and it's usually the right one that gets sore, and I've been worried about it. I tried doing my healing ritual (that sometimes works, but sometimes it doesn't). I do Tonglen on poor Miss Daisy's eye. You breathe in her pain and breathe out healing energy (I try breathing out blue light cuz blue's the color o' healing). This morning, I found that Miss Daisy's eye is still sore (but not as bad as yesterday), and my right eye is all gooey and irritated. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 18th, 2008
9:16 am	Abraham Maslow, and his Hierarchy of Needs I'm learnin' this week about Maslow's hierarchy o' needs. It's really commonsense stuff, but if you live it in some aspect, it really rings true, man. Maslow said you cain't think about intellectual or spiritual stuff, when your basic needs aren't bein' met. That's really simplified. And I know I'm bein' overly dramatic here, and this probly won't happen, but bein' faced with the possible prospect of bein' homeless in the fall scares the poop outta me, and all my spiritual stuff flew out the window. Every other 'partment I found was a piece of cake (show up, say "I'll take it," and sign a lease). Not happening this week, nosiree, much harder this time around, yesiree. I really don't wanna move, I really don't. I feel a little bit like I set down roots where I'm living now, and now I have to completely uproot myself, and I feel like there ain't no ground underneath my feet. It's hard 2 believe that all the little things I took 4 granted, livin' where I'm livin' now, will be gone 4ever. The buddhists say change is inevitable, but I don't like it. I don't like it.  (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, June 12th, 2008
4:35 pm	June 12, 2008 is a sad day. That's all I'll say for now. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 11th, 2008
5:55 pm	Wednesday Poops  Oh, dear lord, I'm tired. It was an odd day, cuz I gots me all this free time, man. And, like, I had a fairly leisurely morning, and then in the afternoon, I thought I'd do me some cleanin' before headin' on into the clinic. But, nosiree. I started writin' a song instead. And then I impulsively decided to record it. One of those impulses where you don't have much reasonin' behind it. Well, I guess my reasoning was that I might not get time to do it this week unless I do it now. And it's one of those songs, where, if you don't record it right away, it might fall by the wayside, cuz I felt like it might've been too boring. I thought I'd record it, cuz what the hell, so I did. I realize it sorta ain't that boring--sounds sorta Peter Gabriel-esque. But I don't know if I should post it on my songblog or not, cuz sometimes songs get so personal, that you don't want to show your insides to the outside too much. Not that I don't do that already, but sometimes you gotta think about things before you do 'em. But, anyway, my afternoon ended up bein' real fast paced and kinda hectic as I raced to finish recordin' the song, cuz Little Larry was acting up, and I was afraid I'd lose all my data if I didn't get it all the way done and mixed down before I left. And it's weird to squeeze creativity into a time schedule cuz creativity usually requires more open endedness, time-wise. But I managed to make it work, cuz writin' basslines can be fairly automatic when you have a set number of them that you've already written and reuse with slight variations. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 10th, 2008
11:51 am	Pandora's Box You guys know the story of Pandora's box, right? This ditzy woman opens up a box, and all the bad stuff of the world comes out: disease, greed, meanness, murder, Donald Trump, etc. Then, at the end of the story, in order to cheer up the readers, Hope comes out, and it's all nice, and supposed to make you happy, and it's supposed to partially make up for all the bad shit that came outta that box. You know what my thinkin' is? The people who wrote down the story got it WRONG!!!! Hope wasn't this nice thing that came out in order to make the bad shit better, nosiree! Hope was one of the bad things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Think about what a miserable thing hope is to have. WE all hope for these nice, better lives, and yet, most of us are doomed to disappointment. If you just came to terms with hopelessness, which is the true nature of reality, you'd be much more likely to accept your existence! Then you could move on with your life, such as it is, and try to make lemonade outta the lemons that God threw at you. Good good, man. But, nooooo, stupid pandora's box had to have this stupid hope in it, that makes you think, oh, maybe I CAN have the perfect relationship, money, 2.5 kids, etcetera, and over and over again, those thoughts'll dog you and dog you and dog you as you realize over and over again, NO. These things are totally outta your control, and even if you did have them, they'd suck, because most things usually suck. Durkheim said one o' the leadin' causes o' suicide is a discrepancy between people's lives-as-they-are, and the lives they imagine themselves having. I mean, people sittin' there rumnating on how better their existences could be, I mean, that's basically hope. Hope is the fantasy of closin' that gap between reality and the perfect life. And when the reality of that gap never closin' returns again and again to people, they freak out and lose hope and then they commit suicide. Without hope bein' there in the first place, people would have no hope to lose. I think if that was the case, there'd be less suicide. So, there. I actually did lose hope recently, and it's been really nice. Your existence is so much more free when you realize that all these dumb fantasies will forever be outta your reach, and you can just let go of 'em. You're so much lighter, not havin' to carry around all these dumb representations of the life you wanted-but-don't-have. You come face-to-face with the reality of your death, and you realize, okay, while I'm here, I'm gonna make up some meanin' for this dumb existence, cuz there's nothing else to do. That way you can do whatever you want, cuz you're free, free, free, free of the dumb, stupid life you hoped for-but-won't-have. And, indeed, when you realize these dumb fantasies will never come true, you see more clearly how utterly meaningless they were in the first place.  (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 4th, 2008
12:33 pm	Again, I'm not gettin' any work done, and I'm too preoccupied 2 B of any use to anyone right now, man. Shit, dude. I've got this feelin' of emptiness that ain't goin' away, man. It's hard 2 have perspective on things like that when it feels like they'll stick around forever. Hope it goes away. I'm not sure if I have much hope. More and more, I'm realizing the universe doesn't look out for you and things don't turn out for the best. Unless you get lucky somehow. It's strange, strange-ass that the universe is so indifferent to us. If we're all part of this dumb universe, that means the universe is indifferent to itself. Sorta suggests the whole thing is this big, dumb, brainless mechanical device, and we're just stupid-dumb cogwheels stuck inside it. What do you do when you realize you're not supposed to have a good life? I mean, I guess the answer is to have a purpose-driven one, but I'm still looking for that purpose. It's hard to have a purpose when you're all dried up and feel like your soul is already dead. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 3rd, 2008
3:15 pm	Don't Ya Gotta Wonder? Okay, okay, man. I don't usually get political on this here fine blog, nosiree. I mean, it's just not in keeping with the usual style of those random, rambling, posts about PMS and whatnot. But, I just gotta say something, man. I just do, man. People will probably be mad at me for saying it.  Or, well, maybe not the Hillary supporters out there.  Barack Obama? You know? Good old Senator Obama? Right? He's got all these friends who are assholes. You can't deny it! It's just the truth of it. There was that dumb reverend guy, and then there was that dumb priest guy last week. It seems like almost all of good old Barack's time is bein' spent on publically distancing himself from his asshole friends. I remember hearin' about some woman who had to quit his campaign because she did some kind of asshole thing and didn't wanna make him look bad, and what I heard was that she was supposed to be one of his cabinet members if he got elected. I mean, that's scary-ass shit that these insane, headcase freaks may end up bein' cabinet members. Anyway.... Here's my thing. Okay, Barack Obama's friends with a bunch of assholes. It makes me wonder if he, himself, is an asshole. I mean, usually birds of a feather flock together and all that good shit. I mean, sure, his public image is of this intelligent, high-minded man, but I just wonder. I bet he's an asshole. I bet he is.  (2 Comments |Comment on this)