I've been very grumpy lately. I really have no explanation as to why. If I was smarter and knew more things, perhaps I could articulate with fancy terms like existential dread and spiraling nihilistic rage... but those are just phrases that sound neat in my head but cause instant regret upon utterance. Maybe if I played some more skyrim.
quick morning doodle. this is kinda me. i drew it planning to use it for my IM avatar. while i usually have 2 eyes, i have lately taken to using a trick explained on mythbusters a while back. they tested the use of eyepatches by pirates to keep one eye sensitive in low light so when they went below decks, they could flip the eyepatch up and still see. since i've been staying up late working at night, i prefer to navigate the house without flipping on lights, disturbing Nicole's sleep. stopping in to the bathroom to brush my teeth requires lights. in order to make it to bed without murdering my toes on the bed frame or stepping on the dog's ball, i close one eye while in the lighted room. once out in the dark, i can see pretty well out of the dark eye. i can make it into bed successfully, even though i experience a strange cyclopic sensation.
i don't remember when it was that i started hating the christmas, but i do. corporate greed, tradition, holiday music, seasonal cookies, the shame of gift reciprocity, and the artificial imposition of family gathering to participate in all the above. it all rubs me the wrong way.
i'm behind the times, i know. this weekend i finally put god mode on god of war to bed. the first god of war that is. it's mostly useless, but the game had been calling me names. at night, that lidless red eye stared at me. it watched me undress and mocked my doughy bellies. when i had my back turned, i swear the game was stealing my cookies. i draw the line at violating my cookie stash. sigh, if only i really did have a cookie stash. why are cookies so satisfying? is it the crunchy? the sugar injection? i don't know, but i'm working myself into a cookie frenzy.
i wonder why kratos never slipped in the puddles of blood he left everywhere he went. not very badass, i suppose. i'd love to have gotten that animation assignment though. especially since he's so top heavy. also, has anyone noticed that his blades are tethered to his wrists much like a toddler might have a balloon or even mittens hobbled? one can then perhaps understand kratos' uncontrollable and irrational rage problems. oh how the wee tikes must have tormented the poor kid for showing up to school with his mittens attached to giant chains burned into his wrists. perhaps the olympians should have had a god of counseling that could have helped the nascent diety. but then how would they sell a sequel? god of recovering rageaholics just doesn't have the same appeal. i don't suppose a group therapy minigame would hold the same excitement as repeatedly slamming some irritating horse demi-god's head in the door he had been guarding.
maybe i should shut up and start my day already.
a little bit sullen
another interminable day lurches and belches into commencement. can i sleep now? i'd sleep for a year or five if i could.
interestingly enough, it seems that when one looks at something, it is difficult for one to perceive that something's objective reality. what we see is a reflection of what has formed us from the womb to the very moment of observation. what we see is not what we are looking at, but rather what we understand it to be. we are always looking for interpretation, representation, significance, meaning, understanding. ultimately our sight and the associated brain mechanisms that process the visual stimuli are the product of such a protracted evolutionary process that by their very nature they are optimised for one thing and one thing only, to keep us alive. in order for the information around us to do us any good, we must identify, organise, catagorise, and pass judgment on countless pieces of information every second that our eyes are open. this function is so significant that the brain continues to preform the same functions even when we're unconscious, pulling from its vast network of neurons already primed with memories and understanding. the brain tireless runs its fingers over the cobwebs of our life, sifting, reliving, recompiling and reinforcing. when we look at something, we don't see it; we see what we think it is.
what i'm saying may seem rather dense, but that's because i don't really know anything about philosophy or anything else that would help me clarify my thoughts. I'm positive greater minds than me have bent their faculties at these questions and come up with much more articulate and thorough musings than my feeble clutches at the straws of understanding.
anyway, what i'm trying to say is that i feel sullen and oppressed by heavy thoughts this morning and that feeling came out in my drawing. so there's that. i had best be about my work already.
