ADHD is awesome, mostly.
HAHAHAHA!! SELF CRACK UP!!!
I just realized (it has been dwelling in me for some time)
that I seem to trust people who evince very obvious signs of
“not accepting, not settling for, normal society.”
when people (seem to at least) evince such signs….
it seems that I get all excited, as if “OOH, another one? maybe?? will you be my friend?”
(and yes, a lot of such people, even most of them that I know, attended CalArts.)
and now: actual thoughts. (if impatient, skip the first 11 lines)
topic today: creative matters.
I am concerned about which aspects of my life to try to control, and which not.
I am concerned that I always want to do things in a (typically non-conformist) “creative/artistic” way, rather than “that other way” that most people, even creatives, even artists, use.
and now for specifics:
I don’t like to BOTHER unless I’m going ALL IN, or at least, “very far in, intensely.” (this is not sexual.)
(skip to here) the way I see it,
you have to do a lot of infrastructural work just to set something up, to make it work. (which is generally a pain in the butt.)
if you are going to do that,
I think it is best to then maximize the situation and do as much as possible as extreme as possible with the “situation” you have set up, and then have to tear down.
OTHERWISE, it’s like
1. going to a gas station.
2. getting out of the car
3. paying for the gas.”
4. ONLY GETTING FIFTY CENTS WORTH.”
5. yadda yadda.
and having to do it again soon.
50 cents of gas ain’t no fun.
a full tank is.
proverbially of course.
unless you are being paid a ton of money, getting all dressed up to perform for 30 seconds
instead of for 2 hours
just ain’t it.
(I never said this approach was practical.)
you know, I might be “weird” like that, BUT-
when the harmony of a tune is awesome, I will also like the beat of the tune, maybe, simple as it may be.
that’s not at all the case if I don’t like the harmony.
I suppose this is kinda like, liking something about a person, and through that, learning about other things about them that you wouldn’t have cared about otherwise (and that you might indeed not care about in other cases.)
blah blah… the love affair with music continues.
certain harmonies and rhythmic feels just GET ME, man. like that. I can hear such things like they are an addictive drug nonstop for hours.
they aren’t though. which is cool, cause, drugs are bad, but music is good:)
which reminds me of my “curious” reading of the end of The Hurt Locker.
such as this song right here, for some reason (it’s in C Dorian. that’s the reason I think. c d eb f g A NATURAL Bb…. yeah yeah yeah yes yes)
WOO!, WOW… go from feeling over-analyzing,
then
listen to some FREDDIE FREELOADER (both the original and the the jon hendricks INSANE vocal version (seriously, they took all the solos by Miles, Coltrane, Canonball and the rest and made up words to em, insane)
and POOF!
feel great, happy. if only I was a (censored!) jazz singer. no, no no. z
…
AND WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE A CENSORED JAZZ SINGER?
say, that’s a good name for a band, or a song… no, definitely a band. I call dibs.
especially a punk band…
in some ways, when it comes to certain things (saying “which ones” might elucidate this greatly, but I’ll get to that)
I sometimes feel like I am surrounded by
A. a buncha people whom I do not trust and whom claim to have (and seem to have) All the Answers (i.e, these people can take care of themselves and don’t seem to have any obvious maladaptions, so so speak (nice word, “maladaptions.” I just made it up:)
and
B. a buncha other people whom I DO trust, but are as lost as me.
all of my CRAZY artist friends (crazy like me) the ones who are REALLY close to me….
they have all the same challenges, more or less.
and those who are different, who really seem to have their lives in order….
when I ask these people for advice, including my life coach…
I inevitably come away hurt and self-judging, as if I won’t accept their advice, because it’s “not me” even though what “IS” me either doesn’t work, or I haven’t tired hard enough, usually the latter. which-
does give hope.
perhaps
perhaps I just need to learn to not take things too seriously when I disagree, and just let some things go,
EVEN WHEN
my defenses are down, and
I am frustrated and seeking help, and
grumble grumble.
MY KIND of ADHD RESOURCE CENTER would be one that empowers people to seek high stimulation, and to achieve it, THEIR VERSION of it, whatever that may be.
not just “getting by”, not just “learning to deprive yourself of your life-force, learning to act normal and pretend you are not a magical high-energy being.
the topic “feeling fundamentally flawed and somehow Unlovable”
is of interest to me, in the ways that it manifests in me, and in others.
of course no one is really either of those things, but some people unfortunately live as if they are.
gotta… not do that:)
I put the T in ENTP
as do my “respond first by over-thinking” friends
and Mom, she put’s the T in INTP.
now bring me some super feeling lovey-dovey hippie chics, we got’s too much thinking, not enough “other stuff” goin on up in here.
this topic needs more, it shall get it, hang on.
the ideas in this post need clearer explanation. I’ll get to that some time.
A post about the film THE HURT LOCKER.
SPOILER ALERT! DON’T READ THIS till you SEE IT!!
seriously!
…
…
…
ready? ok.
the first time I saw the end, when he goes back… I felt what I imagine was intended, kinda shock and horror at how a man could become addicted to the adrenaline rush that they feel in a war.
but every time since,
I have felt, shall we say, something else.
as he is walking in slow motion, and then it jump cuts to him in the suit… with that super loud THRASH music…
I feel who is anyone to judge anyone for what is best for them in life…
there are things about life that I love very much (not war, no.)
sometimes, as in the case of The Dude from The Big Lebowski….
sometimes there’s a man… and… he’s the man, for his time and place.
ADHD is not “addiction, for one.
I am not addicted to war, no.
but there are things that I find “highly stimulating.”
fortunately, for me, they are mostly music, not some ‘foreign substance, i.e, a drug” that I put in my system.
nobody can tell me, nor indeed anyone,
that they shouldn’t be this way, that they shouldn’t get “what they need”, in “their” amount and in a way of “their” choosing. (albeit, if it’s really drugs we are talking about, and I’m not sure it is…. it might or might not change the equation.
I mean, is adrenaline a drug?
is developing tolerance for things, adrenaline included, bad?
who’s to say?
(this is why a film wins best picture, in ambiguities like these.)
certainly not “normal people.” anymore than someone different is to say that “normal people” are doing it wrong. though, we may often think so, I certainly do.
All I am saying is that when I see Sgt. James walking in Iraq, in slow motion at the end of the film…. in the suit….
having nothing to do with America, or War or anything… Edmund, I didn’t take any pro or anti-us stuff from the film, was on a different level for me, as you can see)
I felt empowered. very very VERY MUCH.
to this day, I get a BIG rush in that last scene (see above… it’s High Stimulation.)
not because of war. I was against our invasion or Iraq.
because sometimes people need to do what’s right for THEM, regardless of how it might appear to others.
this is why a film wins best picture. because of ambiguities like these.
In High Stimulation we trust.
p.s. this is all about MUSIC, and MY FEELING that people have often not been in sync with, not understood, my tastes, and the comparatively extreme nature of my musical tastes, to others’.
I love Wagner, West African Drumming of various kinds, Minimalism by Steve Reich and Philip Glass, James Brown, Jazz, and many other things too.
sometimes I like to hear the same thing over and over for hours.
sometimes I hear the same thing over and over in MY HEAD, automatically, for hours.
sometimes I love playing music for hours…. sometimes I like doing it until I’m dead tired and can’t drive home (but have to anyway… coffee…)
High Stimulation Music is life. for me.
so again, this post was not about war… it was about me, and music, which somehow, I saw in the last scene of the Hurt Locker.
(Incidentally, there are Tritones in the chords of this music…. pimp)