Thursday, July 21, 2005

Let Go, Jump In...

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I never intended for this to be a personal blog. I just wanted a resource to develop some concepts and enjoy my writing... to focus upon the ideas that rattle around between my ears, regardless of grammar and craft, and share them with different types of people. One of the things I've thoroughly enjoyed has been, ironically, conversing back and forth with staunch conservatives. It's ironic because my original idea was to call this blog, "I hate the right," as a result of the residue of hurt left from November 04. But, I realise now I have so much to learn, and most of it comes from people who hold different opinions and ideas to my own.

Generally speaking, this is a pretty sizemic episode in my life, and it's hard re-adjusting to this weird little island.

The news about the attempted bombings today left me feeling numb. Hopefully, some good will come from the unexploded bombs that were left behind, and as a result, the people responsible will be tracked down, arrested, and used by police to obstruct future terrorist activities.

After watching the news, and taking a break from my work, I took a long walk through my local golf course and watched people calmly enjoying the beautiful weather as if nothing unusual had transpired. It was actually quite amusing perusing seventy year olds scooping their golf balls along each fairway, twenty yards a time, feverishly in competition with each other. It reminded me of a comedy sketch as they plodded along through the thick grass, tapped the ball a little further, and then plodded along all over again. I wondered how on earth they would manage to total their scores.

Travelling on the train tonight was strange, even if it was a main line train. I remember being 11 years old and taking the underground to school everyday during the height of the IRA. The same kind of messages about making sure to not leave behind anything behind that could be construed as a suspect package are now being played repeatedly. I wonder if they are the old ones I used to hear in 1990.

Central London remains a sight to behold. All of the winding roads, and ancient buildings are in stark contrast to the large gridded roadways of LA. In small stretches you are surrounded by theaters, beautiful architecture, the throng of consumerism, jam packed bars and clubs, and some really cool bookstores :). Late at night inebriated groups of young men and women vomit in dark corners, and take drugs on dance floors.

Quote from a favorite movie of mine:

"Do you remember that point in your life when you realise the house you grew up in isn't your home anymore? All of a sudden, even though you have someplace to put your s**t, that idea of home is gone."

I've been feeling a lot like that about being back in England. I haven't done much living since my return. I've been grappling with my inner turmoil, the pressures I've put on myself, and the aloness inherent in my displacement.

The truth is that I don't know where I'm heading. I don't really know if there's much time left to this journey. I don't know where I'll end up, or how I'll ever learn to live without the special someone I lost. I don't know if it will all make anymore sense in a month, or two months time from now. I don't know where I'll be then. I don't know where I'm about to land.

All I know is it's time to let go, and jump in...