thoughts with coffee with a grey window

The sun has set and the world outside my window is a grey dream. The light of day has flown away, but the mistress of night has yet to fold her cloak over the world.

My third cup of coffee sits on my desk. Starbucks French Roast. I drink more and more of my coffee black, and less and less mochas, lattes, and such. I believe that this started out as a way to stay under budget (I never stay under budget with coffee) but has developed into a preference of taste. The darker, the fuller, the more potent the taste the better. The look of “you must be insane” given to my by my dad, while I visited him nearly a year ago, as I made a cup of Starbucks Espresso Roast in the kitchen was amusing. His’ is an an area of the world where Folgers is equated with quality coffee, where cappucinno is believed to be that odd powdery mix coming out of a machine at the gas station. Nobody in southern Arkansas knows what espresso (while visiting El Dorado, the largest town in southern Arkansas) the only two places I could find with espresso were closed on Sunday.

Today I’ve sat at my desk mostly, ESPN News and CNN Headline News change positions as background noise until I finally tire of the same story heard a dozen times before and don a pair of headphones and listen to the soundtrack to Amelie. Today I recieved my new Franklin Covey planner refill for 2004. For 2003 I had to use the Spirit of America version but for 2004 I am back to the Leadership version. I am pretty damn patriotic (there is a revolutionary flag with 13 stars on it at a local store that I really really really want), but I was terribly disappointed with the Spirit of America version. I used the Leadership version the year before and I highly anticipated using it again. I was not disappointed to see that the sections on leadership, planning, and roles had been re-written.

My mind is a bit frazzled and not finding any focus. I get another cup of coffee and I sit and ponder, organize my planner, read a bit from a book (Life Strategies), and staring out in space. Too many things running around in my head… and yet nothing in particular.

I’ve been here before, lots of times. It is an internal gadfly, the sense of not being satisfied with something… and answer, a reason, a situation, a job, a person, a thought, a behavior, an emotion… something. I posted on a workplace board that I was a strip club manager and how this was a very difficult environment to practice rewarding integrity, hard work, enthusiasm, etc. Such traits are not encouraged in the social mix. I moaned and groaned about things… but after the emotional upchucking I wonder if I was trying to escape the potentials and the responsibility instead of stating the obvious. Are the principles that I have come to believe in any less valid in a strip club? Are the dominant ones around me so much more valid? The conclusin of such thoughts run long and into a pessimistic, nihilistic view of the world.

An ugly world.

Can I say that I believe that people have potential? Even after time after time after time after time of their lying and falling down. Usually it is associated with drugs and an incredibly instable emotional landscape (and both reinforce the other). I cannot express my great, burning hatred for drugs. Humans are nothing if not conscious… restate… humans are nothing if not mindful. We often confuse moments of mindfulness (we have them from time to time) with a mindful life.

I do not want to become what the forces around me try to make me. They have, for a large part, succeeded in changing my behavior and often times my speech. Change a person’s behavior and speech and you are very close to changing their beliefs.

I am not ready to give these up.

First among them is that people are capable of rising above themselves and their situations. This demands responsibility from the person in their life, all of their life, their past and their future. Everyone comes from a problematic childhood. Few people can say that they had a perfect childhood experience. To blame today’s failures and letdowns on the past is to push the responsibility for the future onto the past. Instead of saying “I can make my tomorrow of my own design” we believe that tomorrow is determined by our fucked up beginnings.

Watching the people around me fail and fail and fail and fail is disheartening. Rarely do I end a week feeling good. It is definitely work. I must work to get through a week and it drains me.

I read an author tell of starting a writing workshop for other aspiring authors. She said the best way to succeed in your own life is to help others succeed in theirs. What can I do to help others in their lives? I need to do something so that I do not continue in the river of behavior where people are expected to fail and …

I cannot continue writing… I must end this so that I can get ready for work and take Eliza on an errand.

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