The Limits

The limits of language.  The ability of language to convey certain messages is all really an interpretation. Forewarning, in this post I might get a little loopy and lost in a theoretical mess.  The purpose of language is to communicate and get across an expression of something.  Now, how close can we be to this true expression ("thing" we are trying to communicate)? The written language is subject to so many interpretations: are we really getting across what we are trying to capture in that one sentence, in that paragraph, in that book?  As a writer, I have always thought about the limits of language.  Next question: the power of words. To convey that perfect thought, feeling, emotion, you need the perfect word.  Vocabulary is a writer's best friend.  BUT, even with this tool, there are so many imbued meanings to words and what they imply.  The meaning of words are constantly changing....And hypothetically speaking let's say these words conveyed exactly what we meant, what does the string of words (in the sentence) mean?  Is this the most accurate way to convey a message, a sequential-ized order of words? For example, let's say we see an event unfold before our eyes...perhaps a baseball game.  Now, to put this ALL into words would be impossible. All the senses that go into that memory, cannot be smoothed into diction.  Maybe I like writing because of this gap.  The closer language gets to closing the gap between what is a tangible event/feeling and what is not (words), the closer that writing becomes an existential art form.  

Love Love Love

It changes people, it really does. It inspires a person to reach beyond their existence. Support from a loved one is irreplaceable--whether that be a boyfriend, mother, girlfriend, brother, childhood friend, neighbor, husband, new friend, best friend for years, etc. The Beatles were onto something with "All You Need is Love."  Obviously you need more than just love--stability, consistence, discipline and a healthy environment are a few to name.  The point is, love teaches lessons and life experiences that make a person grow, shaping a person into a human responsible for who they are and what they want to be.  The smallest act of kindness is love.  Love is beyond you, me and everyone we know. It's a driving force for the craziest of acts, the best of feelings, and the most selfless of intentions. When I sit and think about the the act of loving someone, and how I've tried to "love" certain people over the years I remember that it has always been the best medicine for a difficult situation, despite my inexperience and naive ideas.  Love is a religion of it's own. practice it.

Time is a Monster

Timing is everything. Tell me you haven't heard that before. And the worst part is, it is true. When you want something and can't have it, it is usually because the timing is off--whatever the reason behind it: money, mental clarity, etc. Everything happens for a reason. That I do believe.  Timing in the scheme of that saying ("everything happens for a reason"), is crucial...events occur in the order, sequence, and TIME they are supposed to. I'm not one for patience. Don't get me wrong, I try--but maybe if I had answers, this timing business would be a little easier to bear.  People come in and out of your life, goals begin to change, interests begin to change, life begins to settle AND then "time" comes along and ruins the party.  

If we lived in a suspended reality without "time" we'd float off like martians into some hippy-dippy delirium. There it is: hippy-dippy delirium or crash-the-life-party.  Neither seem like good options. My friend recently sent me a quote with a positive outlook: "sometimes life doesn't turn out the way we want, sometimes it turns out better." Let's just say I'm waiting. 

Drum Roll Please

The most recent events (note the plurality) baffle me. Second time around is different, but what does it all mean?  Very trippy. 

Let's Bring Fat Back.

Patriotic holidays have a way for sneaking in the most fatty and unhealthy foods imaginable. Come to think of it, any holiday usually does that--it just happens to be fourth of July.  Every calorie counts, when you start working out and trying to be fit.  When friends begin to ask questions about why you aren't having beer, or why you ordering a dainty salad instead of a macho cheesy- heart-attack-waiting-to-happen-burger, or why are you snacking on carrots when there is a bowl of sour-cream-goodness-dip just waiting while chips gently spill out of the bag on the table-----thats when we like to answer with things like: oh, I'm just trying to eat better, you know healthy. It just makes me feel better. When really the answer should be: I want a hott bod and I want other people to notice it too.  Maybe not everyone is as vain, or maybe not to this degree...but admit it, cheesy grins spread across our faces when countless days at the gym and late night calorie counting starts to pay off, when when we walk down the street and get noticed.

Running and working out makes me feel like every muscle in my body is energized, strong and limber.  I like that.  Anything else it does for me works too--losing weight, toning up, having my clothes fall better against my shape.  I would be the person with the cheesy grin on my face, except I don't work out nearly enough or count calories for people on the street to stop and stare. Different for guys though, because muscles and a tight shirt are more visible from far away, than a girl with a six-pack hiding under her shirt or toned legs under a spandex tight pencil skirt. A girl with big boobs or something skimpy will probably grab more attention from far away.

ANYWAY, 

what I really wanted to talk about was weight. Why do we all have to be so skinny? What is attractive about skinny versus pudge? If I recall correctly, back in the day (can't remember exactly when) painters used to paint naked women with some excess weight because it was desirable and a sign of wealth.  Uh, can we go back to that, please? Paris Hilton and Angelina Jolie are ruining our chances of reverting back to this classic ideal. I see people always trying to diet with crazy meal plans that they are convinced will do the trick and give them a body so slim that their whole wardrobe will consist of tags adorning a prized "size 0" label.  I've recently gained weight and actually enjoyed it a bit.  Call me crazy. Shoot me down. Lets have the world stop spinning. In all honesty, the only reason I don't like it (maybe) is because it's not socially favored.  I tried to think hard of the reasons I didn't like the extra weight.  And I became confused.  My clothes fit me tighter, so they aren't as flattering...a con.  Everything seems a bit more stealthy and meaty..don't ask me why, but a pro. I fill in my bra better...pro (boys, don't get squimish about this upfront honesty). The world is telling me skinny is in and way hotter...con.  

I'm not advocating obesity or people to be overweight. I'm just asking for there to a redefinition of skinny, starting with its general appeal.  It's ironic because when I thought about this "skinny" business awhile longer, it dawned on me that perhaps the psychology behind it might have something to do with the appeal.  People that are skinny tend to be seen that way because they are assumed to have good dietary habits, self-control with food, and a healthy lifestyle--a modicum of self control and taking pride and care of oneself. Heavier people tend to be seen in the opposite light--less self-control, less will power with food, and a degenerate type of lifestyle. In reality some people are just born skinny, with a metabolism made from Zeus.  If I were one of those people, food would be my best friend.  I love food. Perhaps coming from a latin background where you must eat everything on your plate and then figure out how to squeeze in room for dessert has held me back in life.  

dedicated to: mike b. (how is this for lazy?)

p.s. to all my readers I appreciate the feedback and love to hear comments like "your one of my favorite writers." trust me it is extremely flattering, and I'm humbled by your readership. I was thinking about cracking a joke to end, but I will leave this post on a sincere note instead.