Blowin' in the Wind

Have you ever been sitting down, perfectly content to entertain yourself as you deliberate your troubles. You have a problem, but your temporary answer is to let the issue breeze in and out of your mind. This spoken breeze bangs shudders back and forth, open and close, kicks up cerebral dirt and echoes deep blustery taunts for your inner-audio. But every so often it will blow a randomly plausible solution to your problem. This solution will whisk briefly past the backs of your eyeballs giving you a windy element of hope, only to be funneled out of your mind just as quickly as it came and rapidly forgotten with the bang of a shudder. But this is why you sit in peace, occupying yourself in a solitary ponder with the hope that one of these gusty premises will hold on, that it will swirl around long enough for you to turn it into a viable solution to your problems. It’s a meteorologically exhausting process that requires the combined attention of solitude, some form of troubling inspiration and at least one mindless physical task.

Note: Any task will do, just something to keep your hands busy while you wait for the next breeze.

Anyway, there you are sitting down (or whichever behavioral form of occupancy you choose) indirectly trying set your mind at ease. It’s just you, your problem and your mindless physical task. This is how you want it, with the exclusion of the problem of course, but that’s invariable at this point. Then something gets in the way. A disruption in the very course of nature. It’s called…a conversation. Sometimes unavoidable.

I’m not a patient person to begin with, but under circumstances like this, well, it’d be best if we hurry this discussion along. Urgently hurry along. For the safety of all at stake. A churning urgency.

Disruption: “Did you see my newest pictures from back home”

Rolligun: “Yes”

Persistent Disruption: “No, I’m mean the ones I just got”s

{shit}

Rolligun: “Oh…, no, not yet”

{quickly, quickly, concentrate on mindless physical task in an obvious manner}

Armed Disruption: “Here, look at this one”

{Shudders banging}

Rolligun: “oh, wow, I didn’t know you guys had one of those circular drive ways”

Puzzled Disruption: “Yeah, well, we do, but that’s not why I’m showing you the picture”

Rolligun: “no”

Jovial Disruption: “No, That’s my cousin Maggie standing next to our new car!”

Rolligun: “Well Maggie looks like a treat and the car, it’s nice, compliments the circular drive way”

A discussion like this continues on for several centuries, and I slowly start imagining myself banging my head off the corner of a table. I don’t want to be selfish, but I’m rather consumed at the moment with my own sense of loss and frustration, which is shrouded under the disguise of a mindless physical task. It has nothing to do with Maggie and the new car. (Although I will consider having a circular drive way one day)

Eventually we come to the conclusion of the photos and I wonder how many roles of film this project took. Also, I quietly take comfort in the fact that I made it through this enduring event without actually breaking anything on my forehead.

Then the unthinkable occurs. I accidentally get caught up in the natural pursuit of an amiable exchange. A temporary achievement in stupidity, I make the mistake of mentioning something…that is on my mind.

{Oh god what have I done?}

This opens the door for a whole new topic of conversation. I just wanted to go back to letting my mind float around the atmosphere in the hopes that it will settle itself. I especially didn’t want to continue talking, much less about what’s on my mind.

This prompts my photo wielding enthusiast to assume the role of advice giver. He begins with recounting personal stories of both triumph and malfunction, all in effort to support his unnecessary diagnosis.

{Oh please God give me a table, a brick, anything with a density greater than my head, please.}

I don’t take to advice. Giving me your guidance is on par with prodding a donkey. Good luck. I already have a system in place for determining my awareness or choosing which foolish course of action to take. It involves separation, a stormy conscious, and a mindless physical task. Quite simple really, all I ask from the public is that they let me be.

Often times one’s advice is a reflection of themselves. Consequently, people take great pride in giving advice, at least the ones who set out to make a valuable contribution and at the same time are able to take themselves seriously. So I do appreciate these efforts, even if they are unwelcome by my stoic donkey demeanor. In turn, I do my best to portray a reasonably interested appearance. I listen, but I strategically place as many encouraging yet (here’s the important part) culminating remarks as possible. I say things like…

Your absolutely right, I’ll do that.

Holy SHIT, that’s exactly what I needed to hear.

Well said, I just didn’t know how to put it into words.

True man, very True.

And finally…

FUCK YOU!!! That’s it!! That’s it right there, you’ve FUCKING got it!

Tactfully littered annotations from me that suggest the advice giver has made his point. The message has been received and everything will now be the better for it. Thank you for your courageous work. Please go now.

Apparently I didn’t achieve a suitable balance of agreeable comments vs. you can go now comments, and the advice giver found himself continually satisfied with the progress he was making. So I had to resort to blatant non-verbal clues such as piercing my eyes, paralyzing my facial muscles (with mouth open), juggling readily available objects, and finally knocking myself out with an ammo can. My efforts finally registered, and the advice giving session ended. It was an awkward ending, the kind where you each look at each other for an uncomfortable period of time, but nonetheless, it was all done now.

So back it is to my solitude, my troubles and of course, the mindless physical task. I can now peacefully resume waiting for all the answers to come blowing in.

~Rolligun

(feel free to act out “facial paralysis” if you haven’t already done so)