Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Self Sabotage
What to say what to say?…I’m just feeling blah right now. I’m typing in my school’s computer lab. I have two tests tomorrow one in journalism and the other in psychology. I feel like the odd man out in this world. I believe I have advanced cognitive skills in my subjects of study yet it seems I always focus on the incorrect topics. I understand the grammatical aspects of Spanish more than I can see the forest for the trees in using the language. Basically this is a long and drawn out way of saying…I suck. Hope for progress is nothing more than a façade. I took a free music lesson at a mom/pop guitar shop last weekend. It was taught by a man named Skip. I had actually met him a few times before this occasion and he remembered my face but not my name. Skip is a short stature of an Italian man with dark hair salted by age and soft blue eyes by birth (and perhaps by the grace of music.) Skip gave me an affirming glance and said, “I know we’ve met, but what’s your name?” My pearly whites barked my monosyllabic diminutive of a name, “Nick.” He smiled and began the lesson and about one-quarter the way through he was calling me Rick. He then spontaneously realized his self-inflicted mistake and asked, “Rick right?” I politely corrected him receiving yet another nod of affirmation from Chip. By the end of the lesson Chip’s mental nametag for my guitar yielding body was once again Rick. It was if he wouldn’t allow himself to get it (my name and life in general) right. I could hear the verve of self impediment in Chip’s mistake ridden guitar playing. I think some people get it wrong out of internal self sabotage. Not because they are incompetent…I actually think if they learned to get the cart out of the way of the horse…It would be these people who start the next revolutions. Perhaps Rick and Chip are meant to live life diminutive of their potential, laden with this disease symptomatic of the fear of getting it right. There’s no use riding down hill in a cart propelled by our virtuistic nature…Why should we, when we can push the cart up hill both ways in a blizzard while wearing Chuck Converses? Self Sabotage…well aint it a bitch?
What to say what to say?…I’m just feeling blah right now. I’m typing in my school’s computer lab. I have two tests tomorrow one in journalism and the other in psychology. I feel like the odd man out in this world. I believe I have advanced cognitive skills in my subjects of study yet it seems I always focus on the incorrect topics. I understand the grammatical aspects of Spanish more than I can see the forest for the trees in using the language. Basically this is a long and drawn out way of saying…I suck. Hope for progress is nothing more than a façade. I took a free music lesson at a mom/pop guitar shop last weekend. It was taught by a man named Skip. I had actually met him a few times before this occasion and he remembered my face but not my name. Skip is a short stature of an Italian man with dark hair salted by age and soft blue eyes by birth (and perhaps by the grace of music.) Skip gave me an affirming glance and said, “I know we’ve met, but what’s your name?” My pearly whites barked my monosyllabic diminutive of a name, “Nick.” He smiled and began the lesson and about one-quarter the way through he was calling me Rick. He then spontaneously realized his self-inflicted mistake and asked, “Rick right?” I politely corrected him receiving yet another nod of affirmation from Chip. By the end of the lesson Chip’s mental nametag for my guitar yielding body was once again Rick. It was if he wouldn’t allow himself to get it (my name and life in general) right. I could hear the verve of self impediment in Chip’s mistake ridden guitar playing. I think some people get it wrong out of internal self sabotage. Not because they are incompetent…I actually think if they learned to get the cart out of the way of the horse…It would be these people who start the next revolutions. Perhaps Rick and Chip are meant to live life diminutive of their potential, laden with this disease symptomatic of the fear of getting it right. There’s no use riding down hill in a cart propelled by our virtuistic nature…Why should we, when we can push the cart up hill both ways in a blizzard while wearing Chuck Converses? Self Sabotage…well aint it a bitch?
# posted by Nick D @ 9:54 PM 
