I think those who set traps deserve to catch something...
Another shooting two blocks away. It appears to have been a drug related incident. Actually, rumours have it the person who was dealing the drugs dipped in a little too much himself and just went off shooting at his "innocent" customers. Apparently nobody was seriously injured and the shooter was caught--he didn't have the sense to make a get away. Now I'm thinking Alaska might have been a good thing.
Ah ha, now a bit of relief has come my way. Somebody who really wants it will be making the Alaska trip. For now, I'm on standby.
Reading from the "Fresh Blogs" list has created a phobia. I now pray that the blog I choose to click will not have the dreaded apology or excuse for having not written in some time.
"Well, it's been awhile since my last post..."
"It's been some time since my last blog, but things have been really hectic..."
These types of entries just kill me. I know--nobody told me to read them. It is their business, they can write whatever they want. True. I agree. I know I have defended writing bad posts myself. But no matter what, these "I'm back..." posts just zap the reading energy out of me.
Got my confirmation this morning--I'll be packing once again only this time for Alaska! I have no idea what to expect. I really can't take the cold for very long. I will be part of an eight-person team. I haven't investigated the details of the assignment but I hope it will at least be exciting.
I am beginning to think that blogger is helping to take away my sense of individual identity and making me feel like I am just another bunch of cells. When I was little I used to think that I was special and unique. I knew what it was to be me and there was no way that anybody else could be even remotely like me.
Now after a life of experience and now reinforced through my reading of many different blogs, I no longer think I am so unique. I have come to realize that all of my unique thoughts have already been thought by someone else and will be thought by countless others time and again. Every invention I have thought up has already been invented by somebody else or will be. Every song I have ever written has already been written by somebody else or will be. I see situations and people repeat.
I used to feel like a was one in a million but now I know I am just one of millions. I used to feel irreplaceable. Now I know I am very expendable. At once I am sad for my loss but happy for what I have realized. I have realized that it is not necessary for my individual light to go on, for I have accepted that I am a part of something magnificent. There need not be a heaven or other selfish reward or punishment for me. Finally I have come to the conclusion that the world is not about me but is about the world of which I am a very small part. I am insignificantly significant.
Waking up in the middle of the night to the beat of a police helicopter sounding (and looking) like it is about to land on my bedroom is my welcome back home. I don't know what was going on but there was one police unit parked at the corner and several driving by looking for something or someone. The copter's spotlight was concentrated on a house two doors down. After about 30 minutes, several sirens, screeching tires and rev'ed up motors could be heard and shortly after that the copter left. I assume they found what or who they were looking for. In the morning I found my truck window had been broken but nothing was missing. I don't recall even seeing a police unit in northern Oregon.
It much more fun connecting to the net directly than remotely. It's good to be home.
Yup, headed back to Socal--immediately.