brain myth

a common misconception promulgated by pop culture and word of mouth is such that humans, in all our pitiful squalor, use a very small percentage of our brain, and that the rest goes untapped, waiting to be unlocked so that perhaps one day, humans can reach their full potential as intellectual ubermensch. alas, such misconception is just that - and humans do, and have always, used their brain in its entirety; putting aside the fact that a brain operating at, say, 20% for thousands of years is one hell of an evolutionary waste. alas, however, the present author would put forth that some manner of this misconception is indeed true, by allegory or perhaps physical reality, for as the myth goes, it suggests that untapping more of our brain would equal more intelligence. given the present author's complete and utter lack thereof, it may, indeed, be apt to argue that some among us - the previously alluded to, for one - may indeed have, somehow, found a way to use an inadequate percentage of their brain. however, given that such argument would also assuage the present author of responsibility for their lack of capacity for knowledge, such an argument might also be a simple and lazy way to irresponsibly shift blame. the truth of the matter, like all things, is inconsequential.

learning

i guess you learn about yourself. you can't live with animals, you never have, you'll mess up. those first couple weeks filled with agonizing anxiety, nervous every time you didn't see the cat for awhile, nervous she got out, somehow, some way, even though you've been so careful. nervous the dog won't like you. you spent moments on the couch fighting off panic attacks and nightmarish scenarios when your brain went into overdrive and convinced yourself the cat had ran out and been run over or some other horrible fate. you can't live with someone in such close proximity, you need your room, your space, the last time you did this was college and you spent entire days hiding in the library, self-harming when a moment's peace was available in the dorm room, spending every living second wanting to die. but then at night when you're close and can hear her breath and reach out and touch her you're glad that someone is here to be a source of comfort after long days. you might as well not live where they have a pool because even though you love swimming you're too nervous to go. then you do and it's ok and you plan to go again and nobody cares what you do or don't wear or at least they don't vocalize it. there are lots of things you still can't do; you can't write, and you can't seem to get a degree, but the list gets a bit shorter every day and maybe before you know it the 'can't do' parts will be replaced with a sense of accomplishment that for almost 3 decades you have never once had.

you want

more than anything to make them safe and happy and feel loved in your arms. suddenly you have something that means so much to you the single abstract thought of her being sad for 2 seconds makes you sad. everything has to be great for her. and you know it can't be and even if it was how would one grow but you just want her to feel perfect in your arms and like nothing bad ever will happen so you can be that for her. because she knows and you know and everyone knows how the world can be a cold dead place, but in her arms or on the couch or her head on your chest or you on hers the earth is a warm live place and everything hums along and feels good. you agonize over saying you have to get up in the morning, eking out every moment in bed together you can, pushing yourself to the last possible second even though being late is so anxiety inducing. you wait to see her again but after 15 minutes at work you wonder why this 9 hour travesty has to infect 5 days a week, soon to have 4 hours a week of class added and hours of homework too and that you can't just have her. in the meantime you try to maintain yourself; fulfill your hobbies, listen to the music you loved so much you'd cry at it when no other medium would do so to you, play the video games you have made more friends on than any other medium or hobby, disappoint yourself with FLCL, write more again because since 1st grade part of you deep down has tugged you towards that more than anything else you've ever done in life, more even than travel and games and music and swimming, and also make sure, because the addiction and need is real, the love is more powerful than anything, to just constantly hold and touch her, to smile, to see her smile, to wrap your arms around her and smell her hair and look at her eyes and take those 30 minute lunch reprieves and forget work and school and boxes and if you are boring. you have no idea where anything is going, if travel is gone for good, if writing and reading and DOTA and craft beer are gone, done in by money and car repairs and dental disasters and time and unpacking and commitments to so many people all wanting you, you, you, and a stubborn, vain re-attempt (5th time?) at school, but you have her by your side through it all and everything pales in comparison to that, you'll find a way to make it work, to have a sense of self, because in the end nothing is better than waking up next to her, to her hands on your chest, to her head in your lap, to falling asleep wondering why, oh why, didn't that contestant plate the last ingredient on her dish for Chopped.

morning on the third coast

there's a quietness at 9:00 am. the seagulls flying above a mainstreet 3 hours away from noise and calamity can still be heard. the sounds of traffic are uncommon, only the occasional diesel truck roaring by stirs any sort of commotion. the beach sits almost entirely empty, the crashing waves just another of several non-human sounds that can only be heard early like it is now. a coffee shop sits empty and unused currently, two employees hug before one walks off, after ordering you sit at a table with a breakfast sandwich and cappuccino and count your blessings for being unencumbered by customers, whose presence and watchful eyes would make you irritably and anxiously self-conscious about eating alone. outside, the occasional cyclist flies down the road and through intersections without needing to look or stop for cars or crossing pedestrians. the parking; filled and overflowing for blocks and blocks by the afternoon is spacious and copious right now. the sky seems even bluer before mufflers and cigarettes and trucks and motorcycles all fill the air with their exhaust. every few minutes things begin their ascent; there are a few more people, a few more cars, a few more shops opening. you could sit and watch forever here as a city wakes up to the warm summer air and sunlight and spotless sky, your only wish now is that you had someone's hand to hold as you did so. before you know it your two hour parking is up, and you have to move the car, detach yourself from the stillness, and leave, for a moment, observation and comfort behind.