Taking Off Headphones

It's extraordinary, the way it feels when it's just me. I take off my headphones. I turn off the TV. I force my self to stop thinking about what other people are doing. And it's just me. Suddenly I remember what I'm supposed to be doing, the kinds of things I wanted to see myself doing when I thought I was on track to be one of the most distinguished people in the world. It could have happened. If I had lived in a suburban paradise. If I had had no resistance in my life. I was smart, I had resources, it could have happened. STOP

Wait, how many entries have I written on this blog that sound EXACTLY like this? This isn't what I wanted to say.

Today I went for a walk in the park. Halfway through the walk, I took my headphones off and was amazed at the difference it made to the rest of my senses. I think the music was keeping my mind tied to thoughts outside the present. Sure, when I was listening to music, I could see and smell, but just the absence of that music that was continuously pulling me inward enhanced the experience like I wouldn't expect. It isn't the first time I've experienced this, but lately I think I've just been numbing my mind more than usual. I'm constantly watching TV, show I've watched countless times. Or listening to music. Or jacking off. All of those things have their own merits, but when you're doing them constantly, so as to prevent your mind from creating original thoughts, it becomes a symptom of a disease, which fits itself somewhere in between Cabin Fever and Depression. That moment when I take my headphones off, or close my laptop, and take a deep breath and really, REALLY, look at my surroundings, it's like I'm really waking up. I think my brain gets more action during my dreams than in my waking life. Obviously, if I'm really numbing my mind that much, and my brain is doing its normal brain activities, it probably is getting more action at night. Typing is fun. Reading is fun. Thinking about myself is fun. This is productive. I can spend 4 hours a day looking at myself in the mirror and have nothing to show for it. But if I spent 4 hours a day typing about myself, even if I were just bitching and over-rationalizing every pathetic decision, I would still have a heck of a lot more to show for it. Who knows? Maybe eventually, something brilliant would arise out of my chaos.

Starbucks opens at 5:30 on weekdays. My class starts at 9:50, although the professor doesn't start class until 10. I've been thinking that (because I never seem to get anything done at home) that I could just come here at 7, buy a coffee, nurse it for a couple hours, and just get stuff done. I would turn this little Starbucks on Ninth Street into my personal office. That sounds like a reasonable idea, doesn't it? Getting stuff done. Nothing wrong with that.