I didn’t say real, I said genuine. There are tons of real people out there on the web who aren’t genuine.
We live so much through our avatars and micro messages that we can say whatever we want…or can we? Seems like we’re more accountable for our words since they’re going on record.
Being genuine means being human, having humanity. You don’t have to be nice or funny or sarcastic but you do have to be something others are not, and that’s you.
You can tell people are genuine by the way they speak and the stuff they speak about. It’s usually something you can relate to without ever having to think about it — as in the speaker’s intention, or intention in general.
Total uncontrived empathy.
Am I just another silent, un-echoing blip in the Universe? Or maybe something, something at all?
I feel like the former these days. Listless, unenergetic, uninspired. Not bored by any means but defeated. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Nowhere to recharge, just give give give.
There has got to be a better way. I’ve lost the fight in me. It still doesn’t feel good (I’m writing about it, aren’t I?) but before too long my eyes will sink and and I’ll go hollow inside.
I’ll live thru my children and count my blessings and sadly, wait for death to tap 3 times on my left shoulder.
Unless…?
Writing has been quite the cerebral process for me. Downtrodden, faceless, constipated.
So I’m going to try out video more. I think people will respond to it positively. I can save time and mix things up a bit.
One of the reasons why I want to do video is to include more interaction with people — interviews, profiles, etc.
I’m boring myself with my writing right now and will try a video post in my next one.
I try to pick up on minute, subtle, sub-strata clues and cues to get a feel for potential clients. Last week was no different as I drove down to what look like a quarry but was actually a major development in its tadpole stage.
Guard shack: guard seemed a bit odd; bored. Australian, for the most part friendly. Not so bad.
Office #1: dark, messy and depressing. I met with boss #1 and he seems okay.
Office #2: not as dark, with various people gathered around table talking. The men seem a bit off.
Meeting: glimpses of unprofessionalism, nervousness, insecurity, deadpan unhappiness.
Results: inconclusive.
Summer has always been my favorite season, and I don’t play favorites very often.
In the past, it represented freedom from pain and oppression and the glimpse of what being loved and cared for felt like.
Nowadays, summer is still my favorite but it’s quite different. I’ve got so many obligations and responsibilities that I can’t do much outside of well…my year round routine.
This year we will be fixing up our house and yard instead of traveling. We have 6 people in the family and can barely afford to go to another island.
Why can’t I just make a bunch of money while doing what I love to do?
When I’m not publishing, and serving as people’s web monkey instead, life seems hopeless. It’s right back to where I started before.
So necessary is the daily writing that without it my future is in peril. Everyone’s future is, for that matter. It and the publishing are the only things that will set me free.
What happens with the web monkey thing: Because it’s not a passion of mine, I turn into a pursuer of money. And once that kicks into gear, what’s the point? I mean, I could just as well be a bartender if I want to make money.
Sleep is a tricky thing. Necessary, yes, but how much necessary? There have been times where I don’t need much sleep and I’m so full of energy that sleep is a quick incident to the next adventure.
Nowadays, sleep is an event, a part of my predictable regimented day, a bore. I know if I don’t go to bed by a certain time, my day will not be as optimized as if could be. Such boorish calculation.
Kids need more sleep than adults. I need at least 7 hours to function properly. What ever happened to six? Five would be the best.
I’m slowly losing my hair, and I know it’s because I’m stressed out. I don’t want this to happen, but I can’t stop the stress. There’s too much pressure for a guy like me to simply say, “Hey I’m totally calm about life, no pressure here!”
Of course there’s a solution to everything but I don’t know what it is. I’ll just keep rubbing special shampoo into my hair and hope for the best.
I used to have a load of hair, and I took it for granted. I miss having that kind of hair.
Hairloss, parenthood, stress, hard work, faith, success. Will the hair ever come back?
I’ve been sick for the past 4 days and only now feeling better. The body forgets how it feels to be damaged and when it is, it really hurts.
Being sick reminds me of the messy situation of being a flash-bound mortal. I spend most of my days elevated in cerebral thought, just sitting and not really using my body.
The body forgets. I wished for tactile activities like dancing and walks on the beach and I get sickness. The body remembers.
This goes to show how balanced life must be lived. Not too much of one thing, too much of another but just right. Part-body, part-mind. Make each more powerful and efficient. Smart and hard, that’s the ticket.