When synapses go bust.

Thanks to The Gerbil Sensibility , I’ve been looking into ways to go about a mental reboot. My very old camera’s proven to be completely incompatible with my even older editing software when it comes time to capture, so that’s out for now. But there’s writing — the script I’ve been toying with off and on, the script I’m still sussing out the logistics of with K (a play about people trying to make a documentary that’s a true story, but not exactly), and the one or two  (three actually) things I’ve gotten up recently on Libboo — and that I can work on whenever I can manage to take the internal breath and make it happen.

But there’s that omnipresent and stupidly typical apathy that sinks in deep into the bones, and in an effort to make it go away, I’ve mounted a full on offensive. I people watch more than I did before (not like that, let’s not make this weird), picking out those patterns I talked about in the post below this one. It helps create characters, and it’s a great way to kill time on the morning commute. There’s lots of mannerisms you can store away for future reference, methods of interacting, the whole deal. And believe me, you see all types on the subway. Good, Bad, and Strange Unmentionables.

I’m reading more, and with the end of classes having finally come about, it’s purely things I want to read. And though Hunter S. Thompson’s Hell’s Angels has been excellent, and I’ve learned a bit more about the sneakiness of language among other things (For example, referring to a well known senator campaigning strongly against the Angels to the point of ridiculous persecution (even if a chunk of the fear behind it is well founded) as ‘the tap dancer’. Think about it.), it’s not having the same impact that books were having when I dared step out of the Young Adult section in fourth grade.

So I’ll be looking for challenges there too; stocking up on classics I should’ve hit on ages ago (some of them I own already and just haven’t read yet),  and trying to find things that’re over my head, or heavy enough to make a dent. Possibly a literal one. I haven’t yet checked out the tangible to intangible weight ratio thing as far as how important it is, so who’s to say. Not that I want to step into quantum physics, string theory, or any of the things discussed on The Big Bang Theory (I’ve been coerced into watching a lot of that lately), but I want to step out of my comfort zone. I’ll figure out what that means as I go along.

The only issue being that I do happen to have a stack of as yet unread books waiting with bated breath and quiet sobs to be cracked open. So there’s that too.

It’s really hard to type when you’re hanging your head in shame, just so we’re clear.

As of January, I want to work my way through The Essential 100 from top to bottom, even if I’ve already seen the movie. (I plead the fifth on how many of these I’ve actually seen, but I will say the number is greater than five. And no, it is not six.) Again, it’s about knowing your classics, and learning what all those people who were making history with what they did have to teach you. Also, a lot of what I haven’t seen I already knew of, and they were already jockeying for position on my ever growing Watch List. Which made me feel a bit better.

Then there’s all these New Year’s Resolutions from Filmmaker Magazine that’re going to require strain in all sorts of departments. And given my penchant for hiding while I try to forcibly throw myself out into even a shred of spotlight, maybe a heart attack or six. We’ll see.

While there’s that “Promises, promises!” snarky flavored undertone to the idea of making all this happen, I still want to make it clear; these are not actually New Year’s Resolutions. These’re steps that need to be taken, or at least need to be kicked off, so I can keep rolling down the proverbial path. There are a lot of aspects I’ll happily leave behind from when I was a kid, but that’s not one of them; the vocabulary, in all senses of a word, needs a sharp shove back in the right direction.

This means little things — games like Scrabble and chess going from passing interests to regularly played games on the Crackberry — to bigger things like the stuff mentioned above. It means trying out the typewriter my Mom recently gave me (my grandfather’s, a lovely blue Underwood, and looking at it makes me bouncy) as a way to disconnect from everything and just write. I want to feel as smart as I’m told I am, and actively moving in the direction of improving all those battered and decrepit areas of my head that make me twitch feels like the way to go.

Just knowing how to do something is never enough, you need to back it up. Having something raw and unused inside can turned unformed into malformed very quickly if you don’t make the concerted effort to give it that shape it deserves. I don’t mean just talent. I mean intelligence, or skills, or anything like that. Neglect can mean misuse, or it means you lose it all together.

Or maybe I should just shut up and listen to Dylan Moran.

Although I have to disagree on one part; my interiors have never been palatial, and Flamingos were never serving drinks. If I’d known I could’ve gotten away with that, I would’ve been all over a complete remodeling ages ago.

Amazing what we miss when we’re not paying attention, isn’t it?

But still, if it’ll stave off that insanity that so closely stalks the Almighty Silence headed my way, and may help that progression into whatever the next stage of my life will wind up being, then I’m all for it. Even if it winds up being for nothing. That desire to push the envelope is important, especially when you’d rather hold your position on the couch at all costs. Which, by the way, is where I sit currently at N’s house. And it’s such a nice couch, too.

Plus, I have to have some kind of game plan in mind. Otherwise I’ll be content to amuse myself with seasonally appropriate games and nothing more. Currently it’s going for the gift giving gold, even when I’m not actually shopping for me, I’m actually helping someone else out. I don’t know how this came about, but I wind up in a battle of wits the recipient of this yet to be found Perfect Gift isn’t even aware of.

You know the saying: In the jungle of the holidays, the Master Gift Giver is queen.

It’s always fun, and never stressful unless money’s getting down to the wire. But even then, it’s just another part of the challenge. Which is exactly why the other ways I get my fun need to be built upon. Regularly.

Any suggestions on the reading, by the way? I’ll take anything under consideration, just as long as it’s not a self help book. Your thoughts on the matter, as always, highly appreciated.

Until then, it’s time to play the Insomniac’s Game and not think about my oncoming double final this Tuesday so I can get some badly needed sleep.

Cross your fingers for me.

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~ by Sara on December 18, 2011.

2 Responses to “When synapses go bust.”

  1. Have you read Iain Banks’ “The Crow Road”? That would be one that I consider a personal classic. & anything by him can broaden my boundaries just a little. Also, “The Wasp Factory”, if you haven’t, yet. & anything he’s written as Iain M Banks, if you’re into Scifi. Even if you’re not really. I’ve had Joe Abercrombie’s “Best Served Cold” recommended to me. Haven’t managed to pick it up, yet; But, I read “The Heroes” & that wasn’t bad.

  2. I haven’t read any of those, actually, but I put the titles in my phone for the next time I hit the library. Thanks for the recommendations!

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