An Aged Mentality

When I speak to others my age I'm intrigued...intrigued by how different I can feel from my peers. I'm 121-years-old give-or-take...not in experience, mind you, but in mentality. I have this newly emerging need to experience the world...as though "old age" is soon to lay claim to my life. My desire to know the world is not the atypical "searching" that occurs in many at my age...as they backpack across Europe for a few months...hit-up some new dope...or shack-up with random partners, all in an attempt to "find" one's self. As a man on his metaphorical death bed, I can tell you that worldly distractions are of no interest to me...but rather, my interests lie in learning all I can about life...while I still have time. This old age mentality makes exploring the world a pressing necessity...post haste.

Now, I've attempted to explain this notion of mine on various occasions...and most cohorts fail to recognize my meaning of "searching" the world. Some will undoubtedly spout words of affirmation in response to my recognition that "life's too short"...but they do so for their own reasons...because to many, "youth" is an excellent excuse for whittling away time in "experiences"...new experiences...fun experiences...stupid-pointless-drunken experiences...since all is fair game when you're young...the "boys will be boys" defense. I'm not that person...I never was. Besides, I need no more excuses than I already have. I don't want to wander aimlessly, drink myself stupid, and migrate senselessly between shallow relationships...I want to escape the stigmas of youth...I want to gain knowledge...real world knowledge...the kind no one knows until they've seen it with their own eyes or felt it within them.

-Brady

The Cold/Calculating Logic of Life

Lets suppose there's no purpose to life...why do the rules of reality exist? Why are there laws in thermodynamics...chemistry...biology...and all nature in general? Don't things seem all too perfect to be haphazard? There's an eerie logic at work in the balance of existence...within our bodies, ecosystems, and solar system. There's a cruel logic to the nature of life and death: we all live...we all die. Is that not reason enough to think that this logic extends into some purpose for life itself?

Just think: we are ruled by rules...natural law. Beyond the societal laws and moral ethics we've incurred...we are ruled by baser laws. So why ask "how does one hunger?", when you can wonder, "why do we hunger?". We should question the true origin of these tendencies. Our bodies tell us: you must sleep, eat, drink, breathe...you must at all costs avert death...your genetic code must survive. Any evolutionist will tell you that these notions are as a result of man being steeped in millions of years of hard knocks. But I think one should look beyond the existence of the Earth itself...look back to that "Big Bang" and ask, "In the very beginning of it all...what determined these rules?".

How did this logic come out of nothingness? All people - scientists or otherwise - must admit: things are just too well thought out. Surrrre, we can figure out these laws (that's empiricism at its finest), but are we any closer to knowing why these rules govern us? Why we exist? Why we must survive? Let's stop asking "how?"...let's start asking "why?". I say until science offers a reason as to the "why"...all scientific discovery should be taken at its face value - a detailed road map of the world...void of half-decent directions.

-Brady

Where's my Mind?

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place."

- Emily Dickinson

I think I have to write something...hypergraphia of the highest caliber. I haven't been sleeping in my room this past week...I've been on our living room floor, and I've slept much better as a result. There seems to be something about the room you sleep in...it has a feeling all to its own...like an old classroom...or a hospital hallway. There are memories in places...places in memory...and there's a whole theory postulated by the ancients as to the nature of this. The method of loci speaks to the idea that memory preoccupies a space...much like boxes preoccupy a warehouse...the key to remembering nearly anything is to picture the item you want to retain as being in a physical place...a place you know well...like your home...next, each item you wish to remember should be mentally placed in a corresponding room of your home (this seems to work even better if you are physically in the room you wish to associate with your item). In fact, there are cases where we do the association of place/memory subconsciously...students who write exams in the same room they've been taught do better than students who write their tests elsewhere. They say to never do school work - or any work for that matter - in your bedroom...you'll subconsciously lose sleep due to your mind's association of work+bedroom=wakefulness. I guess writing on a blog counts as work, hey? Best be jettisoning.

-Brady

Our Future

A leaden weight
We waste away
Wonder if I can wait to wane
Looking forth to retain the names
Of all the rest we lost in vain

-Brady

"Meditation XVII"

Every person is connected...because every person dies...and since all life ends...all life is shared. Maybe that's nonsensical hippie jive...but I'm trying to appreciate life from death...and thus far, it's a hurting thing to do...because as much as her death is a tribute to the greatness of life...it nevertheless blares the deafening truth of our mortality. Johnny said it best: "Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris (Now, this bell tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die)".

-Brady

"...all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another. As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.

. . .

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

-John Donne (1623)

Rock...Paper...Scissors

I was on the train about two months ago sitting across from a strange fellow...he was in his 20s...shifty...but nonetheless normal in appearance. I hadn't really given him a second thought...that is until he started acting fidgety. I tried to ignore the behavior...as most people try to do on the train. I got a vibe...but I couldn't predict his next move. Suddenly, the man leaned forward with his fist extended outward toward me...not in a threatening manner, mind you...but rather, as if he wanted a game of rock-paper-scissors.

I was skeptical for a moment...yet I complied. Without a word said I held out my fist and we began to play. First game...a stalemate...both rock. Second...I win...paper beats rock. Third game...I won again...scissors beat paper. I guess we were playing best-two-out-of-three. He had a hard time hiding his disappointment...but regardless, not a word was spoken...he sat back in his seat and-just as it had began-we stared out the train window in silence. I wasn't exactly sure as to what had transpired in that moment...but I didn't care. A few stops later I was off the train and on my way.

I hadn't thought of that little incident until recently...it puzzles me now...but wasn't that the guy's point? Wasn't he trying to behave strangely on purpose? I'll never know...and frankly, his actions don't concern me. There are others, however, who are just as (if not more) oddball in nature...others who outright harass train passengers. I've dealt with my share...the crackheads...the punks...the creeps...they're out there to hurt someone. I've been fortunate enough to defuse any real problems...but I fear the day I get wrapped up in some mugging or random stabbing...law of odds I suppose. Until then...lets just hope every train ride is a harmless game of rock-paper-scissors.

-Brady

Path Aplenty

I'm completely immobilized...a serious case of life paralysis. I have yet to choose a path these days. It's times like these where one could take a wrong turn...a turn for the worse...turn in circles...or turn out badly. These days, it's the solutions that don't make sense...not the problems. The problems are quite clear. I've always had a desire to fix the things that break in my life...fix the people...fix the issues...find the solutions...the answers. But there are no answers now. No remedy in reach...just a mess of thoughts and a lot of speculation as to my next course of action...my next direction...the next move. I hope it's the right one. Until then...since I'm stopped...I mine as well have a rest.

-Brady