Midnight Mid-Life Question

 Is what got me here what I need to stay here?

My New Answer to Everything

It started with fencing. The teenagers, finding me not as beatable as they thought, would ask me how long I'd been fencing. Wanting to be enigmatic and with a straight face, I'd say, "not long enough."

Lately, it seems to be my answer to every such question. But only because it's the honest one.

A New Year Requires Old Quotes

It's a new year which means a new calendar (diary if you're from Britain). That means penning in quotes to help keep my on track throughout the year.

This year's list includes some old favorites and new thoughts.

Though long overdue, improving my handwriting is NOT on the resolution list again this year.

I want a busy life, a just mind, and a timely death. 

Zora Neal Hurston

Most people overestimate what they can do in a day but underestimate what they can do in a year. (Improved) Paraphrase of a Bill Gates quote

Less angst, more action.

Me (no really)

Never mistake motion for action.

Ernest Hemingway

I should have revered the last two, but one triggered the memory of the other.

Why Do I Smell Smoke?

An old girlfriend of mine once told me that had I lived during the Reformation I would have been burned at the stake.

On the bright side, I do prefer to be hot rather than cold.

At the time I thought she said it because of my theological outlook. Over the last twenty years, though, I've come to think that she meant something much more intrinsic.

This all comes on the heels of a day where I was perhaps too zealous in my approach. Though in some cases, I knew what I was doing and wanted to provoke the moment so we could have a conversation. I did that because, despite claims to the contrary, we don't actually talk about necessary things.

What happened was a typical conversation which included altered histories, insecurities masked beneath authority, and a general expression of victimhood.

Perhaps the most disappointing part of a disappointing day is the realization that, for the most part, I work with and for children. Public tantrums are permitted under the guise of compassion, all constructive criticism is taken as condemnation, and an absence of any plan or direction is considered freeing. In almost every way it's the opposite of how I want to be. And just to add to these joys, it's been explained to me that all change only comes from the top down, but there's currently no need for change because we. are. perfect.

The hardest part of all is knowing I'm complicit in this too. I add to the crazy, but with the best of intentions. Which is just like them. They only have good intentions. They may not see the whole board the way I do, but they're still well-intentioned. Besides, none of them are smart or talented enough to be Machiavellian.

Still, I'm not always easiest person to work with. I expect an awful lot. Mostly, I expect people to bring their brains and use them, actively find ways to be better today then yesterday, and be open to the new. That list sounds benign, but it's not. It's about change and power and effort. Dangerous things that, if you're the one being read the list, can leave anyone feeling judged ineffectual and wanting.

I guess it all comes down to this: I'm clearly worshiping in the wrong church and I'd better get out before they lash me to the stake and toss the torches.

Old Hopes For a New Year

My hopes (and needs) for 2015 are the same as they were for 2014. They include:

Hack away at the unessential.

Spend time on creativity.

Nurture connections.

Take better mental & physical care of myself.

Present myself in best possible way.

Ignore repetition and try the new.

Don’t wait, do it now.

Having lived with these directives to myself for a year I realize two things. These are exactly what I need to spend time doing. Secondly, I should remember that not waiting makes achieving the others much easier.

Am I Too Tired or Are You a Nachzehrer?

I'm always saying this...

... but I have to be honest, these last few days I'm too tired to fight. Too tired to care what lies beneath the facade. To tired to deal with your irksome bullshit. I just want to get something real, something of value, accomplished. Preferably without you trying to water it down, push it away, or ignore the realities of it.

It kills me that your voices are among the most common I hear in my head now. I let that happen, I know. But still, why am I giving you valuable air time in my mind? Why do you get to drain my energy without paying for it in some way?

The worrisome part isn't that I'm just tired, it's that I think you've made me start to not care. Not caring is the absence of hope, and that's soul-sucking. But that might explain why no matter how much sleep I get I'm not rested, no matter how well I eat I'm nauseated, or no matter how I try to reign myself I'm still running (even in my sleep).

The more you say it's impossible, the more I want to work to prove it's not. Which tires me out even more.

I need to bring something tangible to fruition, to create order out of the chaos, which actually happens to be my job. I also need to keep you and your incredibly unhelpful thoughts at bay.


PS A Nachzehrer is a soul-sucking, not blood-sucking, German vampire.

While at a Meeting About the Future Which Couldn't Escape the Past

I watched as she poured salt all over her unsaid list of thoughts and frustrations, which didn't heal anything, but hurt just as much.

His Verse Ended Abruptly

Like the rest of the world I saw that Robin Williams not only died, he committed suicide today. I find his death affects me more than I would have guessed. I'm crying.

I have life-long relationship with Robin Williams. One of the earliest gifts I remember getting was a Mork action figure and egg ship. His A Night at the Met album was the first and only album my father took away from me for being too "adult." My high school friends and I created a poetry club based on Dead Poets Society. While my immediate circle of friends has changed over the years, each group has spent time watching Robin Williams films. And, perhaps most importantly, the first pair of naked breasts I ever remember seeing was in The World According to Garp when my age was still in single digits.

Yes, I'm actually crying over him. Not because he died, but because he killed himself. Because I also have a lifelong relationship with depression. What makes this so confusing is that at some of the worst times of my life his work helped get me through it. I keep wondering who made him laugh? Or more to the point, who did reach out to for laughter?

I know I shouldn't take his death to heart, but I took his life to heart, so why not this too?

For him, I offer this, The Clown's Prayer:

As I stumble through this life,
help me to create more laughter than tears,
dispense more cheer than gloom,
spread more cheer than despair.

Never let me become so indifferent,
that I will fail to see the wonders in the eyes of a child,
or the twinkle in the eyes of the aged.

Never let me forget that my total effort is to cheer people,
make them happy, and forget momentarily,
all the unpleasantness in their lives.

And in my final moment,
may I hear You whisper:
"When you made My people smile,
you made Me smile."

-Anonymous-

Mover & Shaker

She said, "He'll shake things up and then leave without an explanation." A smile was on my lips and a denial in my throat when I realized she wasn't all together wrong. I'd like to say it was just her perception of me, but I can't honestly do so. I've said the same thing about myself, but less directly: I have no stamina.

Strange as it sounds, I prefer her version.

Funny how ten minutes after that bit of truth was tossed at me I got a phone call about a meeting I forgot I had in the next hour. What did I do? I begged off, but not before offering a big, shiny new idea. And then I hung up.

Now, as always, I'm panicky in the aftermath. My shame urges me on to do something, anything, to prove that I can follow through. So instead of doing anything I said I would, I unpacked and arranged the house a little more. It didn't help. Turns out it take more then half an hour. So I stopped.

Since motion seems to be my problem, I thought I'd sit down for once and take some action.

Marooned at the Party

Written while sitting alone, in a borrowed house, staring at art while waiting to be settled.

We've all heard it before. Art helps you see the world in wondrous ways, enriching your life beyond measure. Of course, that's if you "get" art. I'm no connoisseur, but I know what I like and don't like. I've never been a fan of recent (much after 1920) art. I always find it too abstract, too cliquish, too snobby. As if the artist is sending messages only to other artists or their sycophants.

I prefer my art to be much more immediate and recognizable. Consequently, I tend to wander through galleries quickly looking for something understandably dramatic, beautiful, or whimsical. It only takes a moment to know if something connects with me or not. It's a rare piece that can do that, but I've been fortunate to find a few.

One of my favorite paintings is Marooned by Howard Pyle.

Is he crying, praying, or pondering?

I remember when I first saw it, hanging in its home at the Delaware Museum of Art. As I strolled through the gallery I remember having to turn a corner before I came upon the Pyle pile. As I turned, my eyes were drawn upward. Centered high above my head, but so large that it dominated its companions, was Marooned. It didn't move me. Not physically anyway. 

Instead it held me, suspended in its orbit. My heart was beating, my breathe was shallow, and I was speechless. That last is a trite phrase in the art world, but it was true this time. I couldn't say anything. It was as if I was strangled by its screaming loneliness. I felt like a toddler who could only point at what he wanted.

Fortunately, the gift shop carried the painting in poster size and I took mine home, framed it, and hung it in my living room. People would comment that it was a depressing piece and ask why would I hang it so prominently in my home. But I loved it. I used to say it was me, or at least it was how I felt much of the time. This of course didn't add to my friends' comfort with it. Only one person thought it wasn't a grim piece, but she was crazy (I didn't know that at the time, but her reaction should have been a clue).

When I went off to grad school I took it with me. Having it up made my temporary apartment feel more like my home. One of my classmates, who had become a close friend during the semester, commented several times on how much she liked it. I told her the story of when I first saw it and we talked about how it seemed to fit our individual experiences. When I packed up to go home for the my distance-learning semesters, I gave it to her. It seemed only right to share.

It was another three years before I made it back to the Delaware and got a new print. It took another three years before I unrolled it, framed it, and hung it up again.

At the same time I rehung Marooned, I unearthed another painting that also arrested me, El Jaleo, by John Singer Sargent. 

I wonder if the empty chair is for me.

El Jaleo is the opposite of Marooned. It's full of people, music, and motion. I first saw it when my grad school class visited the Gardner Museum in Boston. It's huge, taking up an entire wall, which makes the figures seem almost life-size. As we stopped to look, my classmates commented on the colors, the composition, the scale. I hardly noticed what they were saying. I love flamenco and this was the first time something mute had so wonderfully expressed it. When they noticed me staring in rapture and smiling at the painting, they asked what I thought. "What a great party!" I said, stopping myself from playing air guitar in time with the painting. Naturally I came home with the print, which was only poster size but better than nothing (besides what wall could I hang even a half-size print on?).

Unlike Marooned no one commented on El Jaleo. It garnered neither censure nor praise. Most people just passed over it. Perhaps they figured it was part of my fascination with flamenco. Perhaps they didn't see it at all.

Despite their differences, I have always hung both of them in the same room, sometimes together on a wall, sometimes across from each other. It never occurred to me until just now why I did that. No matter where they are, they are the visual bookends of my life: the silent loneliness and the raucous party, my need for solitude and my desire to be expressive. These paintings speak (sing, in one case) to me in ways precious few others have and I get it. Perhaps best of all, I don't need an art history degree or a critic's eye to appreciate that.

The Sleeper Awakes

Recent changes have left me feeling like I've been sleepwalking through the last three years. Since April I've been keenly aware of the thoughts, old and new, that run through my mind as I try to navigate away from those toxic times. These thoughts were becoming a distraction, so I decided to write them down just to clear out the clutter and see what was there. What follows is the list, lightly edited and generally in the order I first recognized thinking them.

I never expected there would be 344 items amounting to almost ten pages. But that wasn't the only surprise. Not only are there themes & variations, patterns, repetitions, and contradictions throughout the list, but some of them are the same things I've been thinking about for years. I am loathe to admit that the list is an accurate reflection of the serious and sublime thoughts that flit through my mind each day.

I apologize now for the constant use of me, myself, or I and the repetitive verbs. I was trying to capture the reality of each idea and not allow second thoughts to interfere too much. Besides, this is all about me.

1. I only use Dixon-Ticonderoga #3 pencils and Zebra F-301 fine point pens.
2. I recall being nine years old and saying to my dismayed father, "I don't care about money, I just want to be happy."
3. I'm aghast at how consistently I behave badly.
4. Sometimes I'll turn a conversation into a philosophical battle just so I can display my righteous anger.
5. I believe good science fiction is both revealing and prophetic.
6. The fear in America today is palpable and I want no part of it.
7. Most of my inner monologue is based on Warner Brothers’ cartoons, the Muppets, Mel Brooks' movies, and Monty Python.
8. Most of the bands I want to see in concert require traveling to 1983.
9. More often then not I need someone to remind me there’s a world outside my own thoughts.
10. I have not yet done the work I am capable of or wish for.
11. I don't mind the gray hair on my head, but I do mind it elsewhere.
12. Much as I enjoy studying history I don’t want to live in any time but the present.
13. I am inconsistently organized.
14. I think Victorian stuff was mostly an explosion of ugly because they could.
15. I'm occasionally caught off guard when people don't see things my way. 
16. Rather then trust my thoughts I talk over them.
17. Despite my intentions, I tend to respond with my heart rather than my mind.
18. I generally prefer the company of children to most adults.
19. In my head many of my conversations are a contest of who is more interesting.
20. If I don't go crazy once in a while I go crazy.
21. I see now that some of the bad things were good for me and some of the good things were bad.
22. I am not a fan of Disney cartoons or the Disney Corporation, but for very different reasons.
23. Most objects in my life are second hand.
24. I'm most comfortable in smaller, human-sized situations.
25. I don’t wish for money or fame; I wish for a photographic memory.
26. I am easily surprised.
27. I'm thoughtful about money when I'm almost out of it.
28. I want to see into the heart of the matter.
29. While I have several role models, Jim Henson is my only hero.
30. I get lost in the loop of thinking about thinking.
31. I know how all the pieces move, but not the best way to use them.
32. There are people in this world who think my real name is Angus MacLeod.
33. I've been told I sleep with my eyes open - fitting since they're closed when I'm awake.
34. If memory serves, I lack gravitas.
35. I don't take things one at a time, which leaves me panicky and frantic.
36. I like the smell of ink wafting up from a freshly filled page.
37. When I'm alone and obsessing about someone or something I will blurt out the snappy punch line/biting comment I should have said and then rehearse it repeatedly.
38. I often wonder what would happen if I stopped caring about the outcome.
39. Hard cider makes me happy.
40. I can't tell if I'm too young or to old to behave this way.
41. It is what it is, but I have not accepted that, forgiven myself for it, or moved on from it.
42. I'm still afraid of two things: that someone will find out who I really am and that no one ever will.
43. I dislike sloppy thinking, yet I'm perpetually guilty of it.
44. I'm envious of my little sister's withering eyebrow cock.
45. Looking back, I think I let myself fail.
46. I'm a late bloomer.
47. When it seems to me that people are disorganized I am less flexible in my reactions to them.
48. I have a hard time accepting reality in place of my expectations.
49. Despite statements to the contrary, I don’t hate technology; I hate that I let it suck me in and steal my time.
50. I need to find my voice and the courage to use it.
51. I yearn for a craftsman's life.
52. I keep waiting for someone to recognize that I'm a fraud.
53. I prefer shoes with laces.
54. I take most things too seriously and too personally.
55. I have more hobbies than time, money, or sense allow for.
56. I try to be enigmatic, but I wind up being me.
57. Now I wonder why I waited so long be with her.
58. I know that we judge ourselves by our intentions while others judge us by our actions, but then I forget and wonder why no one understands me.
59. The older I get the more esoteric my interests become.
60. When I remember that broken things sometimes reveal their creation and true substance I wonder what that means for me.
61. I believe there is a higher and nobler reason than price to buy toilet paper.
62. I want to set the world on fire, but I feel like an unlit candle.
63. It seems to me that satire is the only true reflection of life.
64. Sometimes I can't see anything except what I want to think is in front of me.
65. When my self-confidence wanes I avoid being around other people who share my interests.
66. I like to think I'm not like other men.
67. I'm usually reading five books at a time.
68. At times I do think I'm "god's gift," but I try never to test it.
69. When I can, I retreat to my castle keep and sacred sanctuary.
70. I prefer a manual car and a manual life.
71. I like the word monkey.
72. Sometimes the silence I wish for is my own.
73. I'm an ambitious procrastinator.
74. I’m not about to trade my ideals for pragmatism, but I am ready to stop wearing them on my sleeve
75. I don't lead a well-integrated life.
76. I'll casually mention some of my more "unusual" hobbies just to seem more interesting.
77. I know I know theory, but it feels like I'm missing practice.
78. If left alone I will dwell in the blackness.
79. I have not yet learned the difference between a problem and an inconvenience.
80. I'm too fickle to have a tattoo.
81. Modern Country, Heavy Metal, Rap, and Opera would be great if they just wouldn’t sing.
82. I think Birth of a Nation and Gone With the Wind are beautiful pictures of an ugly fantasy.
83. I don't feel old enough.
84. I've felt unsettled ever since I left Pennsylvania, where I knew the history, the geography, the routes, and the people so intimately.
85. My vanity is such that I can't pass a reflective surface without looking at myself.
86. I like rules - I like to I know when I'm breaking them.
87. I'm drawn to television characters who, if they were real, wouldn't watch television.
88. I'm not good at just sending my thoughts out into the world - I'll email and then hawk my inbox to distraction until I receive a reply.
89. I'm not as handy as I'd like to be, but I'm better than I let on.
90. There's something satisfying in building a camp fire.
91. Robert Fulghum is my intellectual guilty pleasure.
92. My life is based on the fantasy of who I thought my mentor was.
93. Because I do everything at the last minute, it's always full of compromises and shortcuts, which lead to extreme self-criticism and exasperation with myself.
94. I don't remember my dreams anymore.
95. I like to read about the creative process of people whose work I admire.
96. I want to be the guy behind the guy.
97. I approach some things with a "you're with us or against us" attitude.
98. I am not a joiner.
99. My mind is always elsewhere.
100. I don't readily trust those in charge.
101. Since I never look at my calendar, it's no surprise that appointments, birthdays, and anniversaries always surprise me.
102. The more uncomfortable I am, the funnier I try to be.
103. I am the middle child of four and the oldest of two.
104. I've known what I wanted to do since I was 12 years old.
105. I fear inheriting my mother's depression.
106. The things I draw well now are the same things I could draw when I was ten.
107. I like researching more than writing.
108. Sometimes I high jump to conclusions.
109. By nature I'm a big picture thinker, but I'm deviling the details by necessity.
110. Sometimes I'm a nice guy because I don't trust myself to be anything else.
111. I won my father over.
112. I act out every story I tell, with voices.
113. I sing better in a Brogue.
114. I forget what I know.
115. I categorically reject any music I think of as my little sister's.
116. When I make up my mind, my mind is almost made up.
117. I rush through and almost never double check.
118. I am a poor correspondent.
119. I can trace so much of my personality back to the seventh grade.
120. If given a choice between the two extremes, I prefer hot and humid.
121. I over editorialize everything.
122. I spent years picking up every girl I could just to get rid of one of them.
123. When I was twelve I found juggling, museums, and isolation.
124. When people talk I watch their lips to see how they form their words.
125. I curse like a bloody Brit.
126. I speak before thinking.
127. To do this day I think I open automatic doors with my Jedi mind tricks (when I'm alone, I even make the hand gesture).
128. I'd like to be in the situation where offering new ideas or perspectives isn't considered rocking the boat.
129. I make a lot of lists.
130. I never want it to take that long.
131. I was once told that had I lived during the Reformation I would've been burned at the stake.
132. I have a thinking Slinky.
133. My favorite question: how do we know that?
134. My favorite response: Because I have an interest.
135. I overthink gift buying for friends and wind up paralyzing myself.
136. My preferred method of conversation is stand-up comedy.
137. I find I'm using "alas" more than "sorry" when excusing some oversight.
138. When I walk into a competition I immediately want to hide.
139. I am self-amusing.
140. Circumstance made me a curmudgeon.
141. Swimming underwater feels like freedom to me.
142. It's easier for me to find fault rather than ability with myself.
143. I thank god my father was kicked out of the seminary/never became a priest.
144. I'm slow to trust.
145. In an angry argument my first instinct is to make peace.
146. Mothers and younger siblings always liked me, it was the girls I had trouble with.
147. I'm too focused on the product and not the process.
148. I'm used to having almost total independence, or at least the illusion of it.
149. In the right situation I still blush easily.
150. My most common dream has my feet in concrete leaving me unable to run from the danger.
151. I'm fortunate to do what I love.
152. Mozart's piano concerto 20, second movement soothes my savage beast.
153. If I've never had a life plan, why do I feel so lost now?
154. I like to wake up early and read for a couple of hours.
155. I'm looking forward to 40 - all the people I admire said 40 was their best year.
156. I finally have a list of guitar composers to work through.
157. I am a virtuoso on the kazoo.
158. I want to be a dirty old man.
159. I take on every fight - even if it's not mine.
160. I've never seen It's a Wonderful Life, and it's become a point of pride.
161. I don't like ceremony.
162. I am overly dramatic.
163. I don't have a bucket list.
164. I usually feel like the weakest link.
165. I care, but I don't know how to wield it.
166. I was not happy playing second fiddle.
167. It's not right if it's not perfect.
168. I have difficulty expressing my feelings - usually they just fall out.
169. When I was a kid I thought all of the other cars were driven by robots.
170. When I'm sick I want to be left alone.
171. I need to do it and move on.
172. I'm not convinced that homeownership is worth the yardwork.
173. She was trying to add to me, but now it seems she took something away.
174. I don't want a lot of stuff, but I want what I have to be nice.
175. My alarm clock rings church bells - I hate waking up to a red alert.
176. "Good" is anything I like.  "Bad" is anything I don't.
177. I like living within walking distance of a bakery.
178. Just once I'd like to feel like I'm working at my ability.
179. In large groups I'd rather watch than participate.
180. Of late, it seems I either have nothing of interest to say or I'm venting.
181. I'm quick to offer my opinions and persistent in their support.
182. My day requires a constant soundtrack.
183. Professionally, I've come up the back way.
184. I don't really want to know about anyone else's sex life except my own and my partner's.
185. My mind is full of fences.
186. In crowds I want to be invisible, so I can either observe or hide.
187. When I'm on the phone I need to do something with my hands.
188. I worry that prolonged physical distance causes other kinds of distance.
189. I'm starting not to recognize my friends' lives.
190. I want Sundays for myself.
191. My "fortress of solitude" would be a log house in the woods, near a river, and close to nothing and no one.
192. I look for an opportunity to be ethically and intellectually courageous, and if I can't find one, I try to make it.
193. I pretend to be more knowledgeable than I really am, or at least not as ignorant.
194. Reenacting fulfilled my need for hands-on existence.
195. I convince myself to start everything tomorrow.
196. I don't like being addressed by my surname.
197. My life is not conducive to owning expensive things.
198. As a kid I heard "stop it," "no," and "you can't" often from my father.
199. I'm always surprised when, after a long period of inaction, I can't do something as well as I'd like.
200. I want a magnum opus.
201. My impulse is to do it all now.
202. Despite my ego, I have a difficult time selling myself to others.
203. I am not a flag waver.
204. My allegiance is to the Constitution.
205. I deplete myself by inches.
206. Nature is a mystery to me.
207. It's surreal when someone refers to me as a man.
208. Math scuttled many of my early dreams.
209. I can play the notes, but I can't make music.
210. I don't have an entrepeneurial mind which has cost me.
211. Now that I'm not performing, I enjoy juggling.
212. Sometimes I do confuse motion for action.
213. Sometimes I just want to be told what I want to know.
214. When I think of creating something I immediately think of the people who would do it better than me or criticise me for it.
215. Mornings set the tone for the rest of my day.
216. When possible I will goof off.
217. I still hear the voice of my driver's ed teacher when I'm in the car.
218. I want a shirt, not to be a walking billboard.
219. I like trifles.
220. It's rarely been just a job.
221. I've been told I'm too young to be this cynical.
222. I get very attached very quickly.
223. I'm like a five year old when I tell jokes - I laugh at myself and mug for the audience after I tell them.
224. Once I find a dish I like at a restaurant I keep ordering it.
225. I'm quick to read people, but slow to know what to do with it.
226. Based on earlier lists, I seem to think if I'm freed of the mundane I'll achieve the extraordinary.
227. My best thinking is done in the shower.
228. Morning conversation needs to be limited to "good morning," "tea please," and "have a good day."
229. Sometimes I feel sorry for the people who haven't figured out life like I have.
230. I never feel prepared enough.
231. I blame those circumstances.
232. When I speak it sounds as if I'm composing rather than expressing a final thought.
233. I want to go to Spain and spend my life drinking wine with friends in cafes while listening to guitars playing in the background and watching beautiful women stroll in the foreground.
234. I get panicky when I don't live up to my own expectations.
235. I eat until I feel full, and by then I'm stuffed.
236. I wonder when a state of mind becomes a personality trait.
237. Every so often I get the feeling that I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not.
238. The task always takes longer in my head than in my hands.
239. There's a difference between "getting it right" and "getting it" that I've never grasped.
240. I pay almost no attention to the news.  What little I do know finds me.
241. When someone compliments me I always think they missed all of my shortcomings or are just being polite.
242. I want to revel in the messiness of human existence, but it usually apalls me.
243. I keep trying to artificially straighten out the natural circles of my existence.
244. I try to distance myself from unpleasant emotions, especially those of others.
245. Since 2005 I'm always close to crying but never do.
246. I still can't believe how quickly I folded when the going got tough.
247. I don't like smalltalk; it takes too much energy and gets you nothing in return.
248. When asked, "how are you?" I always deflect with vaguaries and bad jokes.
249. I hesitate and worry over every first step.
250. I don't involve my family in my life.
251. Women who thought I was "perfect" scared me away.
252. I am not someone else's project.
253. I make too much of the fact that I own a lot of books.
254. Sometimes I prefer to live through books rather than experience.
255. Sometimes I do too much because I don't trust myself.
256. I love those moments when everything is happening at once and I can casually take each in turn.
257. I avoid people who are less _____ than me, and hide from those that are more _____ than me.
258. I've mistakenly focused on criticism rather than creation, as if that marks me as more intelligent.
259. I rest on my laurels until they've withered.
260. I've never really established my political philosophy.
261. I need more first-hand experience.
262. It feels like all of my prejudices need to be reassessed.
263. I'm not sure if I belong to a community.
264. I hate that so much of this list can be summed up with cliches and platitudes.
265. I've had really lousy luck with blondes.
266. At this point I'd rather be angry than afraid.
267. I've never had a succinct answer for the question "what do you do?"
268. Her leaving and his staying became the defining factors of my life there.
269. I'm extremely sentimental, as demonstrated by the boxes of memories I keep.
270. I let little tasks pile up until they interrupt more desirable pursuits.
271. My music must be loud.
272. I'm a lazy romantic.
273. While I find this list revealing, I have this suspicion that I'm still missing something.
274. I have a stubborn mind - it only recognizes what it wants to.
275. I like signing my letters either "cordially" (less fake than sincerely) or "until then" (sounds like a choose your own adventure).
276. I will occasionally cultivate the air of a curmudgeon to keep people away, amuse myself, or both.
277. I am decidedly unsuccessful at doing too much simultaneously.
278. It's been a long time since I've just thrown myself right in.
279. I'm always worried that I'm the one that doesn't get it.
280. I'm usually lost in my own thoughts, leaving the immediate world a blur to me.
281. Bloopers make me laugh more than the broadcast show.
282. I put a lot of pressure on situations to be perfect rather than to just be.
283. Sometimes I don't say anything because I don't seem to have anything of interest to say.
284. I wonder if I'm the one limiting myself.
285. What does it mean that I've left both of my professional jobs out of anger?
286. Very little seems to come easy to me, which leaves me feeling slower than everyone else.
287. I prefer things short and to the point.
288. I'm always worried I've just said something stupid.
289. In trying to keep my options open I usually wind up closing myself off.
290. I wonder if my calendar is empty because I'm lazy or boring.
291. I take not being a "yes man" too far some times.
292. I often need an external reason to internalize new ideas.
293. I realize now that I knew what I was doing, I was just doing it at the wrong place.
294. Self-defense forced me to pull my punches.
295. There's a fine line between speaking about myself positively and egotism that I've never been comfortable with.
296. I'm drawn to creative people but I don't feel like I belong with them.
297. I know more about others' creativity than my own.
298. When did I start caring about how much they pay me or how geeky my interests are?
299. Gaspar Sanz's Canarios make me happy.
300. I don't know if I want to see what this list will reveal.
301. My palms are like solar panels - I will raise them to the sun to grab its energy.
302. It's almost impossible for me to ignore moving pictures in a box.
303. I usually don't like a thing until I know something about it.
304. When I'm just standing I have no idea what to do with my hands.
305. I usually feel the need to look away during a conversation.
306. I have a fondness for haberdashers and vintage barber shops.
307. I'd rather spend a Friday night at a pub than a club.
308. I lead a charmed life.
309. Rather than confront people and situations, I write them off and try to avoid them.
310. I believe in, and therefore suffer from, existentialism.
311. I feel the need to try to be everything, curator, historian, educator, author, etc.  What I don't understand is why I don't think I am those things?
312. The word fraud keeps coming up in my thinking.`
313. I generally see things as never good enough.
314. I want to handle it alone.
315. There are only two reasons to run: away from danger and toward pleasure.
316. I slur when I speak (especially the word Williamsburg).
317. I try hard not to be a stereotype.
318. Maps would answer many of my questions, but I don't consult them.
319. I had come for the job and when I realized that it wasn't going to last I didn't let myself arrive.
320. Sometimes it feels like my life has too many half-filled notebooks.
321. When things feel out of control my first reaction is to stop and go back to the beginning.
322. Why am I not one montage away from my dreams?
323. The luxury of time defeats my intentions.
324. For someone who never seems to write I've given myself a lot of blank pages to fill.
325. If I am honest about my own delusions, I want to find a master who will see my innate untapped potential and focus all of their energy on helping me find my ability.
326. It seems the things I say spark contradiction which leaves me feeling as if my perceptions have no bearing on reality.
327. I only seem to see what I hope to find and find what I hope to see.
328. I love that there are people out there who share my interests, but I hate when they "steal" my ideas before I've had time to tell them to anyone.
329. Unless I'm directly involved, I usually don't remember what people tell me.
330. I am a worrier.
331. There's this creeping concern that my life has settled into mediocrity.
332. I feel like I've spent more time being socially acceptable than being myself.
333. My family makes me angry.
334. I wonder if my anger is misdirected: usually it's aimed at others' reactions when perhaps it should be aimed at my own.
335. When someone asks how I'm doing my answer is always stammered. I realize now it' s because I don't entirely recognize my life as my own.
336. It feels like a stranger speaking through me whenever I express my self-doubt.
337. Lately I feel like stupid just falls out of my mouth - I try to be funny and I sound flip, I try to be insightful and I sound trite, I try to be open and I sound immature.
338. At the moment I'm scared of and bored by the life I've created.
339. When did I stop trusting myself.
340. I keep my email and Facebook pages up constantly and check them obsessively.
341. I'm looking hard for some external affirmation that I have a clue.
342. When washing dishes, if I'm not singing, I'm rehearsing my anger and regret.
343. I'm a pessimistic optimist: I believe the glass if half full, but the milk is spoiled.
344. Holding the long-hand version of this list is very fulfilling.

I need a nap.

Stuart Smalley's Hell

I never feel I'm...

...Smart, Funny, Fast, Organized, Strong, Thoughtful, Informed, Connected, Relaxed, Pithy, Observant, Creative, Quiet...

...Enough!

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen...

My world just got smaller.