So I am sitting in a Starbucks coffee shop, trying to write a chapter in this book about the history of media and communication over the past 150 years or so, since Ben Franklin attached a key to his kite on a stormy American day. I am listening to a mixture of Christmas songs which has stolen the music from untold Beatles songs, yet changed, which I am assuming for legal reasons, the lyrics and melodies to the songs to make them more Christmas like, and some kids talking about a world they know absolutely nothing about but probably think they do, as we all do at that age. A fat woman in a coat sits with her back to me in front of me, not that it is of any interest to myself. Times are changing, for myself anyway. I am approaching the age of thirty, and am finding myself caring less and less about the impressions and perceptions I give off to people, which, I guess, in turn, gives off its own impression and perception in its own right. I am looking forward to turning thirty. The weather today is, for want of a better word of description, fucking freezing! I wonder how those Northern Canadians and Scandinavians do it? As far as the our cooler climate cousins, the Australians, they get to see out the festive period during the heart of their summertime, which, must make the time of year a whole different aspect for the Cricket loving bushwhackers down under. I personally like the Aussies, they have an attitude of calling things as they see them, and never seem to bullshit or beat around the bush. Then again I seem to like most cultures. Today is Sunday, the day God rested, apparently. Twenty years from now Sundays will be much like any other day, in that supermarkets will open twenty four hours, and hardworking people will be doing even more hours for no gratitude whatsoever, just so some rich barstad can profit off the dodgy back and screwed up knees they will possess once the pension rolls into town. I am writing this to keep my mind active. I am 1000 word into the 2000 I planned today, and need to get cracking. I could watch the Chelsea match on skyplayer, but football kinda bores me now. I could watch Blackadder on Uk Gold, but have no headphones. I guess I will get back to writing about the internet and it's wild west connotations... I stll believe God will be a computer system in a few centuries, but this really needs to go into the book.
Lee Gunnell.
Random Ideas.
I feel like crying at this particular moment in time. I don't really know why exactly, and I am not going to physically shed even an ounce of a tear right now, but I feel like I should do so, even if I don't. I am sitting on my bed, alone in my house. It is cold outside, and, even though the heating has been burning up increasingly expensive gas for the past twenty minutes or so, my body and my bones feel a strong chill all around me. I am full up from a cut price duck wrap I purchased from Boots a few hours ago, and a cup of English tea - the greatest drink ever invented by the hands of man, and I am considering going to bed very soon purely because I feel unable to achieve anything of progressive note in this moment. But I will probably procrastinate on the internet for a while, and up reading about the current state of Pro-Wrestling, even though it is a product I have not actively viewed for a few years now. I trained at the gym today and enjoyed working out, as well as engaging in the few random yet general conversations which took place there and around Harrow, as they usually do. My stomach feels inflamed from the usual overload of Starbucks coffee, and I am wishing my kitchen contained some Imodium somewhere, but I know it doesn't. I am still thinking about the point my girlfriend made about human denial, and that it is a kind of necessity to our species, and that the more I try to change the basic outlook, the more I become an enemy as opposed to a considered friend. I now wonder why I give a shit anyway, and am finding it harder and harder to just sit back, relax, and enjoy the roller coaster ride that is our lives. Next door's baby is crying through the thin layer of the walls between us, and I wonder how Mothers manage to handle such an incredibly difficult task, then realize the answer is that they just do. I am writing total crap right now. Writing for the sake of writing, which isn't really writing. I am wondering if this book will ever sell, and if I am smart enough to become more than I feel I am. I feel alone, but not lonely. I feel tired, but not sleepy. I am wearing a mask which has been on so long I am starting to forget it is a mask at all, and am not too sure who I am anymore - even though I know tomorrow I will be back to my usual self... at least I think so. I haven't cried, I won't cry, I can't cry. But maybe I will have another cup of English tea... maybe... always maybe.
Lee Gunnell.
Lee Gunnell.
Marissa.
I have an amazing girlfriend. She is intelligent yet silly, organized but subversive, tough, innocent, naive and beautiful. I take her for granted more often than not. She works a pretty tough job and manages to sustain the ability to get through all the hours her career entails, but, even though sometimes it gets her down and she loses track of herself, she never gives in and always fights till the end goal is achieved. At many times I can be a very hard person to get along with. I am stubborn, deeply opinionated, and if my mind is in the right (or should I say wrong) frame of mind, will attempt to force my opinion onto others - this, according to the book by M,Scott Peck, is the definition of what evil really is. Yet, even though she gets frustrated and annoyed about the ideas and standpoints I have on the world, I believe that beyond it all, she has a genuine understanding that I am a man of good heart and intentions, as much as I do towards her. She is not perfect, no one is, but she is perfect for me, and vice versa... and that is really all that matters.
Marissa, I love you. And when I tell you I love you so much that there are no words to formulate a true definition of this feeling, then laugh as if I am being silly, I am in fact being as honest as I can be. And I hope that you know just how much of a positive influence you are on my life. I am a very complex person. I can be arrogant, pretentious, shallow, misogynistic, rude and sometimes very hostile. But I will never let another person cause you any harm or insecurity whatsoever, and will release the sleeping monster inside of me anytime that they do. I have always written for me, but now perhaps I do this for the both of us. I don't know if we will make it through the stresses of life and the rigors of the world, but if we do, and I hope we do, then the glories will be endless, and the miseries will be handled. This is the moment now where I should neg you passively, just to make sure you do not take this message for granted, and so I don't feel this blog is a load of rampant chumping, the kind I see so often by 99% of men in the world. But I will do this in person next time we see each other...
Lee Gunnell.
Marissa, I love you. And when I tell you I love you so much that there are no words to formulate a true definition of this feeling, then laugh as if I am being silly, I am in fact being as honest as I can be. And I hope that you know just how much of a positive influence you are on my life. I am a very complex person. I can be arrogant, pretentious, shallow, misogynistic, rude and sometimes very hostile. But I will never let another person cause you any harm or insecurity whatsoever, and will release the sleeping monster inside of me anytime that they do. I have always written for me, but now perhaps I do this for the both of us. I don't know if we will make it through the stresses of life and the rigors of the world, but if we do, and I hope we do, then the glories will be endless, and the miseries will be handled. This is the moment now where I should neg you passively, just to make sure you do not take this message for granted, and so I don't feel this blog is a load of rampant chumping, the kind I see so often by 99% of men in the world. But I will do this in person next time we see each other...
Lee Gunnell.
Waiting.
I was waiting. Just... waiting. It reached a point where I was waiting so long that I, as Rupert Pupkin said with such bad timing in The King Of Comedy, that I forgot what I was I was waiting for in the first place. But nonetheless I persisted. Minutes, hours, day, months, even years had passed, and I was still considering how long it was going to take before the waiting was over, and I finally hit the moment in my life where I truly felt as if I was alive. And being able to survive in the knowledge that existence wasn't limited to bludgeoning moments of thoughts and ideas of nothing more than feelings of pain, suffering, insecurity, indecision, regret, fear, guilt, frustration, and anger. All whirling around some form of semi-coma like state of abstract reality in the mind I have lived in. For as long I had to ability to remember what remembering is anyway. Of course, there were positive and happy moments too. But the human soul is a beacon of perpetual motion, and on a day of immense cloud and darkness, the brief appearance of the sun feel more like a trick of the eye, than any direct truth. Why is it taking so long?
And then, somewhere along the convoluted mixture of it all, a new reality hit me. All the time in which it felt as if the only colours in life were black, grey and the aggressive dark red which Tiger Woods wears on every final day of a major, the sun began to shine on a new dawn, but it was an internal dawn inside of me. The myriad of painful emotions and feelings were in fact an immense part of what being alive actually is. To live is to feel. To feel nothing is to merely exist.
And this is where the beauty arrives and the sun begins to shine. Because knowing that the bad days and the rough times are a hard, but, necessary portion of our time on this earth. Well, it kinda makes the good feelings even greater. The laughter of a baby or the smile of a polite stranger is so much more rewarding, when you know how fragile one solitary human life actually is.
And anyway, whoever told us life was neither cruel nor unfair? We sometimes expect it to be this way, but, it never really is. Even the so called exceptions of people in positions of power, wealth and fame, who are constantly promoted as being almost as above human and have no suffering. In reality, many of them probably have even more suffering to contend with. Coupled with the burden of society expecting them to have it all.
No one has it all. No one has a perfect life. And I am no longer waiting... And have no intention of starting again.
Lee.
And then, somewhere along the convoluted mixture of it all, a new reality hit me. All the time in which it felt as if the only colours in life were black, grey and the aggressive dark red which Tiger Woods wears on every final day of a major, the sun began to shine on a new dawn, but it was an internal dawn inside of me. The myriad of painful emotions and feelings were in fact an immense part of what being alive actually is. To live is to feel. To feel nothing is to merely exist.
And this is where the beauty arrives and the sun begins to shine. Because knowing that the bad days and the rough times are a hard, but, necessary portion of our time on this earth. Well, it kinda makes the good feelings even greater. The laughter of a baby or the smile of a polite stranger is so much more rewarding, when you know how fragile one solitary human life actually is.
And anyway, whoever told us life was neither cruel nor unfair? We sometimes expect it to be this way, but, it never really is. Even the so called exceptions of people in positions of power, wealth and fame, who are constantly promoted as being almost as above human and have no suffering. In reality, many of them probably have even more suffering to contend with. Coupled with the burden of society expecting them to have it all.
No one has it all. No one has a perfect life. And I am no longer waiting... And have no intention of starting again.
Lee.
Welcome All.
Good evening all who are wasting the hours of our ever decreasing lives by reading this, the very first of many write-ups I will be committing to the already crammed up world of virtual human opinion. My initial basis for this post is to create this as something of a disclaimer, and to make a firm note that all the opinions and ideas expressed within the confines of this blog, are strictly my own. That is, except for the ones which I have stolen. Which, in any case, I will simply reword in a way where the rooted structure is deemed to be considered as an outlook created entirely from my own mind, as opposed to the liberated thinker I stole it from. Who mused for many a solitary hour over the incredibly endless amount of wisdom and wonder of the organized chaos we call existence. But shit, for every successful and globally renowned Thomas Edison, there always has to be a penniless and overlooked Nicolas Tesla. Though I do know who both of them were, so maybe old Nick wasn't as naive as we may have thought. But I know who I would rather have been.
Lee.
Lee.
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