Two Drink Min.

When I was younger I remember the "thinking critically" subsections at the end of every chapter. I never understood exactly what it was to think "critically". I understand thinking rationally or conservatively. I've spent more time being social the last week or so then I have in recent memory. Yet today I get home around 2:00; sit down and pour myself a glass of Rum and Coke with the intention of relaxing. I have to decide once and for all what I am doing with this year and to "think critically". Yet as soon as I sit down I am assualted by an eerie sense of loneliness. I yearn for a good conversation or the quiet unassuming gaze of a friend over a chess board. I want to watch DVDs and giggle at cheesy one liners. Yet I am getting myself ready to move across the country to support a cause that may or may not succeed with people I don't know. It's a scary thought to realize I would be alone and without a safety net.

So here I sit with a mixed drink that could use alittle more pepsi and no idea what I am going to do with my life. I tried talking to my grandparents about it and it made me feel even more hopeless. They don't believe the world can change and doubt I'll be able to accomplish any different. When I lay at night I think of how hopeless my cause really is. I'm thousands of miles away and my income as a writer isn't enough to live on yet; not to mention actually getting back east to do something. The few connections I have aren't much help and some of them are might even be pitfalls I hadn't imagined.

The glass is half empty now. All those critical thinking exercises plus a glass of bad rum and I have nothing. Everyone I know is going back to school and I am sitting out waiting for something I fear cannot happen. The logistics are painfully difficult and even now all I can see are dozens of possible failures. In each my personal shortcomings are manifest directly and I cannot fathom an escape if things went bad so far from home. I pride myself on a mind that thinks tactically, that can find every possible victory. Yet I am finding that the real world does not always offer you a possibility of victory. In it's cruelty sometimes even our best is a wasted and futile effort.

Glass is 2/3rds gone. Spiced Rum carries a bitterness when it's not mixed properly. Having only in the last few years started to drink I have trouble getting accustumed to this. I drink things that are sweet like mountain dew. I drink on occasion because it is one of the few things that will slow down my mind. My mind slogs the same information over and over again, possible methods of making money, various low end contacts in the poltical world, my inexperience in the world of politics, Electoral math and most important of all the effort it would have on my life.
The information does not change. I sift it over and over again. I divert my mind to games or matters of study and it returns again at an unguarded moment.

Glass is empty now. It may not be a fevered pace but my mind is still working. I still feel a tinge of loneliness in my heart. I am a creature of the night... but whatever path I take this will have to change. I cannot isolate myself to encourage productivity and cut off potential hurt anymore.
One of the more interesting side effects of light drinking is my mind because more disorderly. Already chaotic and filled with conflicting, loud and diverse thoughts it descends to an even lower level of order. I sit here trying to organize my thoughts and they float away alittle faster then normal. They escape my reach just barely. Just by the tips of my mental fingers.
Relaxed... yes. But no closer to an answer.

New Drink. Watermelon Vodka and Mountain Dew. Very very strong.
Sobriety hasn't helped me grapple with these very difficult issues. Maybe the reverse eh?
I kid of course. Drinking doesn't have a strong effect over my intellect. I would have to drink far more then I am willing to for that to happen. My father let drink dictate his life and it's something I will be think about every time a drink touches my lips. It's me in control, not it.
It's harsh but not bitter. I think the ratio is too strong but I wanted to finish off what was left in the bottle.

Barely into this drink. Cognative functions are still slowing. The numbers of my problem have become more abstract but no less pressing. The problem is as it always is: Money. With a modest amount of money I could blog the entire thing. Ohio would be my playground. I could cover every aspect of the upcoming poltical battle royale. Hell instead of ohio I could blog Florida or Connecticut. (if I spelled that wrong I am deeply sorry). There is demand for competent writing in the poltical arena, it's almost insatiable really. My dream of working for a good intelligent man may have to die here and now. Obama is a great man that much is certain. But there is no certainty of a job (even a low paying one), nor is it certain that I would be able to support myself if I did land a modest job as a staffer.

Glass inches down. This vodka is much stronger then I thought. Once thing as a writer I can do and I know it's not unique to me is understand the mind of another writer. Obama writes from a place in his heart and because of that what he says doesn't sound cheap or poltical. Yet his mind is sharp and thinking ahead by leaps and bounds. He has worked out every problem he thinks he will face and he intends to do that facing with honesty. What would be long buried dirt to another is something for him to lift up. He admits to second guessing himself or feeling guilty about his job. He illuminates himself as human and when I read his words I see past the poltical meaning to his heart. It is a rare talent to write from that insubstancial place and still convey all the meaning you intend. I want more then anything to help him accomplish his dream of a better world. I understand the poltics and in some areas I don't even fully agree with the senator. But I do believe in his heart he wants the world to be a better place and I agree with his vision of a better world even if policy by policy we disagree sometimes.

Half Empty. Mind is blank except for what I summon into it. A state I can accomplish with either intense focus and meditation or by moving from light drinking to moderate drinking.
When I finish this drink I am certain I will be unable to write further without ranting or degrading to something you would find on Mypsace.
I know with certainty what I want to do. The problem is accomplishing what I want. Making it possible without destroying myself.
I slaved hard to put myself back together, part of that was a desire to change the world.
I think of the Taoists of old who isolated themselves from society to perfect themselves. Or of Zhuangzi who turned down the position of advisor because he feared entanglement into court poltics. They were still pools in the river of time. When a Taoist did act it was overwhelming, they did not over extend themselves or tax the people into poverty. It was not personal ambition that caused them to act. But a desire to help others. A strange dichotomy for persons interested mostly in perfecting themselves.

Time to finish this drink, then perhaps a good book or a simple game.
Goodnight to all.