DS was absolutely right about my pessimistic tendencies. I've been thinking about this a lot over the past 72 hours. My life motto has evolved..or devolved?...into "It could always be worse." However, it remains a classic "chicken or the egg" story, because - what came first? Do negative life experiences coach a negative worldview and set of opinions (a kind of "conditioned response" learning that we already know animals are capable of), or does one's negative worldview lead to experiences being interpreted as negative or the negative being focused on while any positives are quickly dismissed as transient or marginal?
I don't believe psychologists will ever answer this question, because all areas of human emotional and mental learning seem to be circular.
Anyway, went to this new crepes restaurant in Riverside over the weekend. We all stood outside this smoke shop (I don't smoke, for the record), talking, bathed in the glow of neon lights in sinful red tones. (On that note, who decided red is the color to link to sin and lust?) Street activity was going on. A small coffee shop had a constant trail of people in and out, a condo building towered above the block with sporadic lights lit. It was PERFECT for drawing or coming up with some artistic set up.
I am again reminded of how incongrous THAT life is, the one I could have chosen, with the one I ended up with. Much like "studio art" and "honors psychology," there is no overlap in the life of an artist compared to a business person outside of a creative field. At times like this, I can see why people pick up smoking.
My friend M had a period of unemployment this year. Amidst the undeniable stress of "where am I going to live when the money runs out?" he spoke in encouraged tones about his life prospects. Having no 8-to-5 opened an avenue for art - a chance to develop his photography hobby into something more substantial - something beyond night club gigs, perhaps. But his relief at now, again having an 8-to-5 is clear. It does not make you happy, but it keeps you safe.
Anyway, the crepe dinner was Friday night. I could have gone out afterward, but I headed home and collapsed into a coma-like sleep. I lounged in bed for the entirety of Saturday. It was nice...of course on Sunday the new drug was prompting my brain to skirt away from any normal human process, so I felt extremely sick and near vomiting all afternoon. Honestly I feel similar today.
I had a dream someone was shot. Someone with dark hair. I knew him in the dream but not in real life. It was some grand horror plot that I can't remember now.
I went on a date last weekend...did I mention that? It was what I thought. I'm done with this for the rest of the year at least.
