Only a month? (This is from two months ago — in the midst of emotional turmoil)

Since the day I hit Arkansas for the first time ever, it has only been a month. It seems like two months.

I just had to look at my records on here to see that I was laid-off on September 1st, 2017. 

Then:

  • 9/8: seen cousin & slept in Alabama 
  • 9/9: Arkansas for the 1st time ever 
  • 9/11: Colorado!!
  • 9/19: left Colorado to go get car, compete in Savage race, and plan the next move 
  • 9/20: waiting on a bus that is five hours late; heading home to GA after deserting the white truck in Kansas
  • 10/10: still waiting on the car to be repaired and didn’t make the Savage 

Barely even a month has passed since the day I left Georgia. It’s funny how I really thought I spent ten or twelve days in CO — while it was merely 8 days (really, 7-1/2). And back in GA, the remaining twenty days has felt like 2 months. 

I’ve done a ton of searching, a fair amount of meditation, reading and researching to wind up with uncertainty as before. It matters not that a definite answer has arisen from the investigation, I doubt it will ever be answered surely enough to satiate. Though now I am well versed and opened to ideas that contradict, even more than before. It as if I’d never looked, the answers aren’t available and the questions are everywhere. 

Looking at the broken leaf of grass, there is more in that yellowed, jagged blade than any of us will ever understand.

Always, I wonder ’bout fate and free-will and coincidence. I’ve listened to wonderful conversations for two years through podcasts. I’ve a passion for discovery of norm breaking, healthful practices and have used my body as the scientific lab in all research for many years. 

…I’ve come to realize that I am very rebellious by nature, though compared to what I had imagined it is barely different; except that apparently I don’t care to do what even I think I should do. This realization is due to a recent guest on a favorite podcast and her test. The gist of the theory is that there are 4 types of folks and they are subdivided as: questioner, rebel, obliger, & upholder. 

……I listened to her on two shows; saying: I gotta be a questioner. I agreed fully (almost always) with the questioner typecast, and while listening to them talk about the rebellious ones made me wonder how those people were really any different than I. 

……I even listened a couple weeks apart from each other; thinking both times, I am a Q. Definitely not a weak obliger, nor an uptight upholder. I question all and won’t do things that you want. But I do things that I expect or want, don’t I…

I took her little quiz to determine your alignment and I hesitantly applied an answer to the 2nd question, I may have even lied a bit with a stretch of truth. “How do you commit to a response that doesn’t have your real answer?” It is multiple choice with three (or 4ish) options. The majority of the questions led me to realize there is a consistent line of questions asking if You care what people want and if You care what you want. And there is a fairly constant reply (answer) from me saying, “no, not really, matter of fact, I’m going to do the opposite of that”

Here is the quiz and info.
But in reality, there’s like 2-4% of us in the world. Something to that effect. 

So, why must I be a rebellious INTJ who happens to be on the cusp of sagitarius of capricorn? It seems too much to handle; as if it isn’t enough to be the cusp cap/sag that desires a part of this world and to be great within it (cap) yet drawn to roam as a plunderer of fun (sag). Yet I must have the awkward sensibilities of the INTJ and an added rebellious tendency to want to avoid all these apparent myths about me. It’s like a joke. Not like I am upset about the analysis as it has all been learned through the last six years, beforehand I had only heard my sister speak of mars & venus, but I had no interest. (I still haven’t looked into that). 

…Along the lines of coincidence, it seems not, or not in the common sense of the term. For I’ve come across the truer definition of the word to purely mean “(two) things coming together”. Versus the common term where the induction of awe or special comes into play. A coincidence isn’t always magical or eerie though it would seem as such when fate occurs. Or was it fate, perhaps just two free-willing participants on separate journeys, but why would the meeting seem meant to be? 

Was it put in your way so that you could use the challenge to better yourself or to distract from the goal; if the goal is ultimately hidden in there somewhere or written in stone clearly as I was taught, or am I to surpass all the deceit and get beyond all lies to the simple truth of that which is opened to me. I’ve been looking for years, asking to bring me into the truth, but slowly and gently, so that these things may be processed and learnt from. Collapse after collapse and I’m attempting to allow guidance from above while others are clueless to my objective. This would be the first public notice; to my near and small audience. As it does even occur that I may should scratch this essay and only keep it as a private document. It will be slept on before posting, if I do. 

I went to the mountains to think, to use the legal medicine to aid in focus. To allow some of the accumulated fog to clear out for a mystery. There wete no plans, except for this. Needed to see the dry air, outside of the South East; to examine the area and decide if I appreciate the land. To see a city touted for great bicycle travel with trails and mountains within minutes of any town. All these things were wonderful and refreshing, even without a normal dwelling or a bike. 

I’m itching to return, and anticipate traveling beyond to the west coast. It would be nice to see that land and say that I’ve traveled finally and hugged a sequoia. I want to sit in a river and allow the cold bits of nature to nurture my want of more experimentation in my lab; where snow may occur and I can lie on it and witness the effects. I seek to fast and meditate, though probably less than I hope and aim for; yet the aim is almost nil due to allowing a path to form for me instead of forcing my own logical path. 

The area undr my feet needs s change and the space between my eyes or ribs needs a new perspective to draw from in order to develop further. I’m feeling a shift in my work, It seems that design with the same spectrum of work is not what is meant to be unless it is just a simple coincidence that all this has occurred — allowing me to be done with my recent prison, and on to better or just different and more trying than before. 

…I am pulled in so many directions that I really must look beyond my logic to consider the proper path. My skills have grown, matured, morphed, allowing early skills to dwindle in expertise while compounding to expand into foreign territory with less hesitation than before. The long-time obsession with all things nutrition and fitness has developed over the years so that I am my own guru, that I continue to push my envelope and keep balance with the overwelming swings of downward spirals calls me every day. It calls me to join in on the revolution of fitness, but my non-educated, non-degreed, non-compliant attitude would barely fit the protocol of what I would expect and without proof of my own dedication, would need much training to gain. Without much luck and assistance, this path makes no sense. 

I thirst to know more about or farming, but not “row-farming” so much, but perma-culture type. Yet also row farming because I require multiple sides of an argument to determine truth and consequence. This holds my ear to attempt, yet it would put me in the poor house easily. And it’s not a passion that I’m truly aware of so that it could easily remain on the list of businesses that I’d love to take part of, yet remain to hold near to my heart and hope that someone will draw near insight to my ambitions and create the reality; if only placing ideas to the nether allows the transfer. 

Often, the dream to build a magnetic device to create energy is on my mind; as a lunatic dwells on his creations that cannot come true. To harness nature’s hidden and mysterious power, to bring a closer step towards prosperity. I believe in the idea, a circular rail-gun with no ammunition inside, but coils to gather current or smaller devices to use per purpose and by need. Though this is the most elusive and I’ve even feared losing the idea to a government entity; the design is written within my mind with only crudely drawn evidence of the invention. Due to belief stated above, where ideas are shared through the divine, from the group that somehow feeds off each others’ ideas and inventions. But if it is certainly meant to exist, then someone will make it happen and leave you stuck with your own diagram of near exacting replica. The paranoia is near the end of life since I wish it to happen whether from my own design. I’ve recently found someone creating and developing an idea similar, yet with awe striking differences that I could incorporate into my own schematics and allow that to simmer and grow. I want to create a 3D model and be able to mature the idea with iterations of troubles. Or to simply join their team or follow closer to the research to see what things stump the crew. So that I can dream further and deeper with knowledge that comes only from experimentation during times that I cannot as I’ve done for years. I’m certain the simplistic design cannot be enough, but it rings true by its sound in my thoughts. 

Welding calls my name. Loudest of the practical professions as I never got the well deserved practice after my training and diploma. I worked my tail to the stub attempting to harness the power of the arc; only to quickly skip to the next goal. Yet the next goal of Drafting was an old, unearned goal. One that haunted all my weeks while I desired to be more, but did not realize the rebellion in my attitude. There was no possible finish to that effort until I honed my focus and spiraled into an abyss in the process. Finally killing the ambition, to move to a new (practical) life where I could earn top wages and perhaps the respect from ones that I wish I had. Only to have the path return me to the unfulfilled goal. This ended with a wonderful opportunity to begin a new career that quickly has seemed to fade away. With welding never fulfilled, am I fated to return and finish and achieve an old goal. This feels redundant or unnecessary since I’ve used the diploma of the skill to gain my most recent position, as the welding experience gave an extra leg of experience to walk upon and boast about during the interview. 

And the big one that shouts in my face. That only makes since for personal benefit and hopeful prospects of future returns that likely would never come. To earn an engineer’s title or degree, if only I had none there was such a position when I was young; how did it slip beyond my sphere? I definitely could have pushed for a degree and become rich in the wallet by now: a whole different life perhaps with unending opportunity to work in new environments as an engineer. Yet I really despised school until well into my welding diploma six years ago. Was beyond my thirtieth year before I cared to focus on any education. Though the burden of unknown student aid eligibility or loans along with the longterm goal does not align well with my behavior of keeping little requirements of my time. I do not like the pressure of rote memorization nor appreciate the structure and have distate for the general establishment of a required education practice. Needless to say; robots will replace us ALL, soon. And why delve into the illusion anyway?

Life full for lounging and curiosity amuse me and calls. How do you answer? Listening to God and nature and science and scripture and conspiracy and interesting crazy people and laughter and the empty space between for clues to the puzzle that refuses to show the whole image of the front of the box. The box is hidden away from the table where the pieces fall out of a bucket with no bottom  and liers emerge with extra pieces that seemingly fit into each crevice but the image doesn’t align each time while the artist secretly giggles in amusement and allows beating of heads on the table and slides a freebee once in a while. Only to hold standards that must be learned out of pure fear and doubt and shame that you feel like the only one attempting to solve the puzzle. Is the puzzle meant to stump so that it must be tried again or is there a solution hid in a dimension that if you only looked around, took a break and lent fresh eyes to discover the lid of the box was on a nearby shelf after all. That it was shining in your eyes with invisible ink and you just required the encoder ring to examine its beautiful picture. The puzzle may need knocking to the floor with pounding fists to fully rebel against the riddle as rediculous and pointless that it all appears to cover the mystery the lies on the floor, beneath the table that supports the scattered chunks of cardboard and paints. 

And yet I’m drawn to the construction sites where  heavy equipment steers men through bright sun and soil, digging ditches as with a witch or a caterpillar that could hatch into a hardier, sustainable life, enabling further development of an old skill, to bring transitional knowledge and develop new avenues to the wealth of riches that I desire. Those aren’t the amazing dollar or gold but the simple task that changes and challenges and offers free time to think during the task and lack of duty to the job while I rest from the work. 

….

……..

I could swing a hammer or weild a pen as long as my creativity isn’t crushed by a manager whom I’ve lost respect for. Or to even feel the hot breath of a lead on my neck gives me chills that I cannot remain on my skin. But I will sacrifice these for another bit if I manage another design gig. I would like to stay in the field and earn the mega bucks I’ve dreamed over for these last four years while I drooled along in utter boredom and misery at times. Only to finance my initial and failing investments. Before they crumble as I am beginning to expect. 

…the X as recall by her admission was of being smelted in God’s fires; she allowed the crumbling of her life with aims of higher dreams while drifting away and disallowing “outside” assistance from even I. As I did not understand the desire to push through tough times when there lies an easy-out, nor do I understand fully at this time why opportunity of escape did not reach her until too late. Secluded from her, I was when describing her comparison to Job, especially about the house falling on the family (killing them all), gaining warts and ailments due to the boiling golden lava on his spirit. Not to dishonor the code that she held, I was disheartened by the results of the current trials and the slippery slope of depression and it may have been part of my own burning lessons. 

I’m not ready for that fire, not like it was. Yet I’m in it, quite likely. My eyes are peeled for a message and I’m using this break in reality to earn the right to continue and at the same time as being and trying to be thankful of the break of routine; searching for the reason amongst the plethora of knowledge hidden within others’ perspective and philosophy of this grand riddle. The break that easily could be passed by while delving into a hardcore job search. I have too much confidence in my gut to over-rule my instinct. It is difficult to imagine that several years may be wasted to another possible career that could bring riches and comfort along with the other social perks of the demanding atmosphere and pride. If it became a waste to harness this time with instinct of only my guts showing the path, that would too be a waste, yet I’ve asked for leadership for once; not just an opportunity. While I ask to only help/let/send me another CAD jockey position where I may earn a fair wage and full fill my end of the initial investment, to rise out of the ditch of debt and gain control like I wanted. But I just want to allow my faith to manifest a destiny or the manifest the next goal, all I see is to give away a lousy blanket and to stop being an asshole and give away spare change or blindly give without knowing the reason and judgement. But that is the toughest when I think holding on to that dollar to serve future investments that serve to produce yet a larger dividend that may be applied or given to a proper charity. But it’s a false hope that I cannot seem to control. I want to give back what I’ve literally stolen. And I’ve this regret and disdain towards myself for never paying it back snd this has weighed me for twenty years and I’ve got to get it off of me. It denies me the reward for courage to overcome and keeps me hanging on the dream that I’ll never catch up to the compounded interest, while knowing that the interest of lost opportunity can never be calculated properly in that it is impossible to quantify if I actually paid back what I owed to the original owner who didn’t seem to need it. But in reality could have lost great accomplishments due to the hiccup of stolen revenue. 

……….

Well, the following paragraph is waaay off topic due to the rant that wasn’t planned. 

………..

…………….
Here’s a quick overview in joke format (it’s pretty funny from my perspective, but I feel your pain) taken from her website:


…and a realistic description:


……

A well written description of rebel.
……….

………….upon review, I saw tons of typos and “spell correct”, just overlook that nonsense and bad grammar; it’s only topical issues that I allowed to stay………

2:45am…now Wednesday, October 11, 2017

P.S. the car is fixed and getting excited for its cross-country trip. 

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