Don't ever drink alone

As I sit here, drinking Johnny Walker with some Coke Zero (no calories!), I can't seem to focus on any one thing.

I am one of those multi-colored bouncy balls on steroids, bouncing off of everything, even the soft things like couches and stuffed animals.

My body is physically exhausted right now. And my mind should be as well, but it's not. I just worked from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. for two days straight. Mind you, I don't ever really fall asleep before 2 a.m. for whatever reason... and still... my mind wanders. Spurting out a million ideas and thoughts at the same time.

Even the songs that get stuck in my head are usually completely random.

Today for example, I had several songs stuck in my head for varying hours throughout my day.

I had a tune from a kid's show stuck in my head most of my morning. Then, randomly I had Boyz II Men's "All My Life" stuck in my head, which is completely out of a rhino's butt since I haven't heard that song since a middle school dance. Then I had the chorus of Tenacious D's "Tribute" on play in my mind, only to be followed by Queen's "Don't Try Suicide."

This all happened during my Signal work shift.

I also talk to myself, just like any normal person does, and I want to do SO much right now. Most of my ideas conflict though... and it's hard.

Guess it's a trait of a Gemini.

Someone mentioned the other day that having a passion in life is what makes life worth living. That it gives you a purpose of some sort.

But what if you don't have a passion?

Or maybe you feel as if you have several?

What is the definition of "a passion" anyway? Here is what dictionary.com had to say.

pas⋅sion

–noun

1.	any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.

2.	strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.

3.	strong sexual desire; lust.

4.	an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire.

5.	a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire.

6.	a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for music.

7.	the object of such a fondness or desire: Accuracy became a passion with him.

8.	an outburst of strong emotion or feeling: He suddenly broke into a passion of bitter words.

9.	violent anger.

10.	the state of being acted upon or affected by something external, esp. something alien to one's nature or one's customary behavior

Funny how some definitions seem to contradict themselves.

I feel like I have a passion for a lot of things... and that's the problem. If you have a passion for something, wouldn't you consistently be active in that passion? Shouldn't this passion compel you to dive completely into it and know absolutely everything about it? As if you were training for the Olympics? Or becoming an expert?

If that's the case, I have no passion. And I haven't decided if that's depressing or not yet.

It's depressing in the fact that I feel like I am no expert in any one thing. And that I happen to be drawn to certain things for frivolous reasons mainly because they selfishly satisfy me in one way or another.

On the other hand though, it's not depressing since I am essentially a "jack of all trades" who knows a little bit about a lot of issues. That, and the fact that it keeps my life interesting since I fill it with so much variety.

I don't know.

Things I feel like I have a potential absolute passion for:
1. Music: it's in my blood. Although I suck at lyric writing, everything else comes pretty naturally to me. Music is, essentially, life. But apparently that's a cliche nowadays.

2. Mother nature: I'm definitely a tree hugger, love the outdoors, and am constantly finding ways to be kinder to the earth. Currently I am looking into joining some sort of group that plants trees and cleans up trails for hikers/campers.

3. People/helping others: I don't know much about politics, economics, math (fuck math), taxes, how the world works, etc... but I feel like I have a really good grasp on humanity and interpersonal relationships. I read people fairly well, but more importantly, I understand how most people think. Being an RA definitely help me realize this, which has extended itself to my friends, family, co-workers, and strangers. I also have a deep desire to help people struggling with whatever, and I constantly feel like I have to be the bearer of light to them. Although I might not always "succeed" in bringing this light... I always feel like my involvement has helped in some way... even if it is fairly insignificant.

4. Traveling: Who wouldn't be passionate about this? The problem with this is that it's not something that you can technically do everyday. Not unless it's weaved into your career somehow.

Maybe my passion is myself. I have a passion to follow my heart and my selfish desires. To constantly please myself. Would that count?

I'm out of Johnny Walker. Time for bed.

Beauty in this ugly world

There is this amazing website called http://pixdaus.com/

I use it as an escape. Whenever I feel overwhelmed with how fast time flies by, angry at something largely insignificant, stressed out from frivolous day-to-day situations... I visit this site and it calms me down.

I typically put in my head phones and play Enigma. It helps to further pacify me.

These photos also remind me that this world isn't as ugly as it seems to be portrayed as of late.

Check these out and tell me they are not beyond beautiful. If you do, I will slap you in the balls.

I save my favorite ones and set them as my background to my computer screens at work.

I'm not gonna lie, they change every few days.

Family dinners are the best

I went home on my dinner break from work to eat with my entire family.

All of our schedules are different so we rarely sit together at a meal anymore. I came home excited to eat a hearty, delicious, home-cooked meal and to spend time with my family, particularly my dad and my older brother.

Tata is transitioning to be a full time truck driver, so I only see him a few times a week if we're both home at the moment.

And Mickey works in the morning and I work in the evening so we rarely see one another either.

I walk through the door and Mickey and Tata are putting the food on the table. Perfect timing. We sit and eat (halibut, shrimp, steamed veggies, and potatoes...yum!) and we're having a fun conversation, laughing and making fun of one another and other people.

And then I open my mouth and say something about hippies, and how I want to be one, and while Mickey and Matthew are just laughing at me calling me the furthest thing away from hippies since I shower, avoid smoking pot, wear shoes and don't drive a VW bus, my dad gets all political blaming what is happening now on the hippie movement.

Exqueeze me? A baking powder?

The entire mood is killed, and the convo turns political.

I don't mind talking politics, as long as it's with open minded, non-judemental, and logical people.

It just so happens my parents, specifically my mother, are none of those things.

I drift off and stop paying attention (because there's no winning with them) and start cleaning up the dishes. Matt quickly joins me and we escape the convo.

I just think its funny. Being all together... all five of us.... doesn't happen often, and instead of enjoying the company, it turns into a heated debate.

God I sure do love living at home!