If you're looking for answers, don't read this

I have this fascination with light and the color white. I want to come up with a theory of my own about this phenomenon. I like that word, phenomenon, because I love the irony housed within it. What in this wide and wonderful world isn’t a phenomenon? Everything is phenomenal, but unfortunately the human brain has the ability to tone down and de-accentuate things surrounding us at any given moment in time. I say unfortunately, but honestly the brain has to do this to function otherwise our senses would be overloaded and humans, or any animal with a central nervous system really, wouldn’t be able to perform basic survival tasks like eating. We’d get stuck, so to speak, like a stoned teenager, only worse. We desensitize and dull things around us so we can handle a given situation, because in its entirety, we can’t handle it. Humans cannot truly handle truth in its entirety. It’s funny. I think it even makes God smile. I love it.

And so I’m rambling, but I’ve had a few pieces float my way today so I’ll share:

Creativity is never birthed of a singular effort. No one individual contains creativity.
Creativity is a force which captures small fragments of the essence of humanity and then so chooses to manifest such fragments within an individual.
Differences between one person and another are not provided for divisionary purposes. Our minds will group and categorize because this is how we learn and process, but creative freedom breaks these molds. Creativity cannot exist in a world without differences, subtle shades, and contrast.

Expectations distort love. Love within a human mind is so often tainted by expectation that even the slightest glimpse of what it may be is missed. Love cannot be contained, restrained, or defined. Even the creation of the word “love” distorts what love truly is. But whatever love may be, it is very much a choice. And never just one, but billions upon billions.

p.s.
I apologize if you were looking for any kind of conclusion here, I have none. I don’t even have a good explanation for my opening statement as to why I’m so fascinated by white and light, but maybe I will understand it myself someday and attempt to unwrap that thought. But just in case I haven’t convinced anyone that I’m certifiable, I feel the need to inform the masses that I’m also fascinated by dark and black too, even more so than white and light, whatever that may mean. Hahaha :) until next time…

chopping block unedited

Why I write…

I’ve probably done this before. I’m almost sure I have. But I feel the need to clarify, classify, and understand why I write. I don’t do this for an audience, although I feel that what goes on in my head must go on in other people’s heads at some point so maybe parallels will unveil themselves and I can help someone, or someone could help me. I want to learn how I work and what makes me think and feel the way I do. I don’t think that my experience, thoughts, or circumstances are unique to the degree that no one else would understand or be able to comprehend, but I do feel that there is a space within who I am-maybe space isn’t the right word- just an area of my soul, or possibly my soul in its entirety, that is uniquely tasha. Meaning that if only for that small part of me, no one else can “fill my shoes” so to speak. It goes along with my upbringing though, and for a reason I wish would be revealed to me, I seriously question my upbringing. My upbringing told me that God made me, and he made me special- He knit me together in my mother’s womb and he knows every hair on my head to borrow some from the great book- and when God made each and every one of us he made us with purpose and a job to do. I question this, and to what degree I’m not entirely sure. To be honest, it depends on which day you ask and which mood I’m in. Not that that is even a little fair- the God of the universe that made me and loves me unconditionally won’t blink an eye about who He is but I float on choppy seas and change my mind more than I change my underwear when it comes to paramount ideas and thought processes. I just want to have a corner on the truth, but I’m such a damn skeptic. I hate that I can be so paranoid about things. I notice it in many aspects of my life, and it worries me because I don’t want to end up like my daddy. Big fat tears well up when I go here, because I that think I could just deal with the b.s. and know I’m crazy, but it would kill me to know that my crazy paranoid ass affected anyone around me in a negative way. I wonder if my daddy thinks about things like that, although I’m not sure he even thinks that who he is and how he acts affects me in any way at all since I don’t live at that house any longer. But it’s a heavy coat when I do think about it. Damn me and my emotions. I keep trying to tell myself there must be some reason that God gave them to me and that He intends good out of all of this, but for other reasons I’m convinced it’s the devil stomping on me like a floor mat because he knows it’s my weakness. Right at this present time in my life, just about every aspect of my life feels precariously balanced on a fence. And honestly, I feel like I employ effort to remain balanced, but that maybe I’m wasting that effort because what I could truly need is to go one way or the other. And in this my problems lie. I don’t know which way I want. I could say that I don’t know which is the wrong or right way, because I’m not entirely sure what is the “right” way, but wrong and right are like bricks in the sea in this event, because it doesn’t matter if I’m wrong or right in the end. And being “right” just feels like a tactic to try and make myself feel better about life, but really no one knows what the fuck they are doing. if you succeed at this game of life you simple do what others do and do it better, or get lucky and get it handed to you. And success, in a way, seems a stupidity to me given that death is a 100% guarantee. No one succeeds at life… I sound such the pessimist… if that’s the right word here, but don’t let that fool you… I’m really an eternal optimist wrapped in a spirit of depression. It’s my torture I guess, but I’ve always loved irony so my heart will smile despite my mind’s constant battle against it. Someone will find the humor in this… God? Lucifer? All I know is someone better be enjoying this otherwise I hate the effort lost in the act. And don’t let me be or believe that I’m ineffective, inarticulate, or unproductive because that’s when the demons really crawl up under my skin and party like it’s 2009.

Making a point- I say things like I’ve drawn a conclusion on something. like I fully understand what I want to say and how I want to say it, but often, and when I say often I mean it is all that is within me not to go back and edit the above paragraph-thingy and why I made it a point to make a point :) BUT WHAT I’M REALLY TRYING TO SAY….. is that as soon as I make up my mind on something, I find myself challenging and contradicting my idea, thought, whatever. I build myself up to tear myself down again. My mind just does this… and God, it’s really annoying. I’d just like to be sure of a few things. I’d like to have firm foundation in some area of my life. There is none, and maybe there really never is, was, or will be and in the past I was just so hopeful and naïve that I believed blindly, never really knowing. Ultimately, I think I have trust issues and that I place emphasis on all the wrong syllables. There’s a conclusion I will be unraveling in my mind for a few days :)

Note to Self

This is just a random ramble I found myself wading knee deep in yesterday afternoon. Nothing is to be taken literal; I was in a very interesting mood and though it may seem I’m throwing ideas around like confetti, I was simply trying to collect my thoughts. Sometimes that feels like a game of 52 card pickup. So now that you have been warned, welcome to my mind…

The ocean swell,
Fell,
F
E
L
L
Tumble, rumble
Dwell..
A choice is a choice, and so is no choice at all. Is life a choice altogether different? It can come and go sometimes as such a whimsical thing, the idea that we are spoken into being, or the idea that God’s mere thought can bring about creation from nothingness. But this is blasphemous, really, because nothingness is not what we are created from, we are created from God. Possibly a little pinched off portion, or maybe, like light through glass, a reflection or refraction- depending on which angle you take. This big book that spells out my belief system (how dare I think this in such a accusatory tone, but I speak of things I’m not even sure about, things I’m not sure I’ll ever be sure about) is one I rarely lift a finger to explore. I’m so spoiled. Popular Christian culture has numbed me by the availability of God’s word, yet despite the big “B” being as common as Starbucks coffee, somehow in the midst of it all I can’t find daddy G. Even more preposterous for me to say is I’m not even sure how much He’s hanging out there anymore. Words in the hand of a fool…. Tell them they must not release me to the public, for some things are contagious… like diarrhea of the mouth.

because i'm not so good at this...

I'm a starter. I start things and somehow and somewhere in the middle, I feel, I get tangled up and, therefore, begin to dissociate.I go back and read my first blog entry and it inspires me to write more, except I often don't have the slightest clue of what I want to say. I'm so moody when it comes to these types of things. I have the best intentions and very often in the beginnings of my adventures I really feel I have so much to uncover, discover, and divulge, but then I fall flat. I'm a sprinter, and training to run miles is almost torturous. Almost, yet, at the same time for some crazy reason, I enjoy it.I just wanna get inside my head and figure it out. it doesn't help that I change my mind about things 20 times a day either. I'm begging for some consistancy on the mental level at least. I can't trust myself. How I think I feel one day can betray the person of yesterday so on and so forth. So what am I to do with this self that sinks and floats boats on feelings?According to Myer's and Briggs I'm an INFP. That means introverted, intuitive, feeling, and perception. I fuction as a being from these core concepts and the middle two are supposed to be the strongest, or rather, the most integral parts of my personality. In a nutshell, I'm a feeler. I don't know what to do with this skill set and often times I find it gets in the way of the work. Not that I'm even sure what my "job" is supposed to be.All in all, I'm only sure that I'm not sure and I mean this in the most universal way. Ambiguity permeates me to the core and could very well overtake me, if not for my rebellious spirit that just won't relinquish my ideal of individual. By individual, I mean "me" where ever, what ever, and who ever that may be.So unlike that old adage of "getting nowhere fast," I find that, though my destination may be the same, the "fast" does not even fit into my vocabulary. Quite the contrary, I'm gracefully travelling tasha time, whatever that means. :)

testing the waters

I've had some interesting feelings lately. Feelings, which, in turn, lead to questions. Questions that I don't really have answers for, but hope to find. And so I feel very much like a broken record. A song stuck on repeat, that I don't fully understand, but really wish I could.A lot of my questions are about myself, God, and what life is. I'm not sure what I believe. I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to have what I believe nailed out.I'm not sure what I believe about the "spirit" of man. I believe "spirit" exsists and I'm convinced on this matter due to personal experience. I've traveled a great range of emotions from bouts of sorrow to unexpected bliss, and yet through these "spirit" variations, my physical being (nonspirit) and tangible world surrounding me never exhibit any major change. Of the tangible world, I can not ignore the reality of things I can see, touch, taste, and hear. I believe in a duality of spiritual and physical existance, and that such duality is ever present.I believe that I see things different from everyone else, uniquely Tasha. Not because I'm special and see something someone else can't, but because I believe everyone sees uniquely themselves. In some ways, this does mean that I can see something no one else in the world would have the ability to see, because I believe no one in the world will ever be 100% me, except me. But this implies that I can attempt to see things as others see them, and I may be able to understand via means of empathy, sympathy, or even similar experience, but because I am me, and not you, I can't possibly see it just the way you see it. Even if perception of a subject is the same, reasons to come to the same conclusion may not be. This, more than anything, is why I think people need one another- because we all have a limited view that only others around us can broaden. This is assuming we want to grow. This also assume that no one person has, or possibly will, figure everything out.Existence is something scientists and theologists will go to any measure to understand and "figure out." I don't really understand this. Once something is figured out, you reach its end. It seems an awful lot of people are merely trying to finish or get to the end. Is this something we are taught? Or is this something within our spirit we long for? I'm not sure, but I'd venture to say it's a cultural lesson that even children learn from an early age. Someday it will all make sense, and so we hope away today for someday.I've heard before that what you are is everything you've been taught to be. I like to think of it as a pot of stew. Broth of everything you were taught as a child, a main ingredient tossed in when life experience teaches you something the broth just didn't provide, and a dash or two of seasoning from actually listening and applying wisdom provided from peers and elders. Life sets flame the fire that cooks the stew, and God is to whom the dish is served.All of this, however, is simply my limited view.