Hello and goodbye?

Ah, I'm tired of the networking world. I spend so much time away from the computer these days, I have no desire to cozy up with people who don't exist. Or maybe some of them do. I don't know. I'm not one of them. Or maybe I am. Not for me to judge I guess. It's been an interesting summer. An interesting year. I'll have three dramatically different jobs by ringing in of the new one and each of them I'll have learned something different. One of the things I've gotten out of 2008 is that's where I'm supposed to be. I like the seasonal positions. I get bored too easily, which is probably an indication of some instability of my psychology but who knows. I like the physical labor. I like the instability. I like the chaos. Sometimes I don't, but most times I do. It keeps me on my toes. I think it goes along with why I can't dig the internet anymore. It's hard enough for me to sit in front of one long enough to post a blog so we'll see how the new site goes. Myspace, Facebook, I'm tired of it and they will most likely go away. A lot of it is political, more of it is socio-psychological. I don't like the lingering, hoping that someone has left me a comment. I don't like the fakeness or the false ties to people who couldn't care less otherwise. In the end, I'm usually infuriated with the computer. I'm angry at the telephone. I'm pissed with the TV. So I just avoid them all for what it's worth, unless it's necessary. Bridgeport was great. I didn't have cell reception out there, I didn't check email except on the weekends. There certainly wasn't TV or radio, and I went to bed early after riding my bike up the hill to the hotsprings. I wonder if that's how life is supposed to be: sweet, unfiltered, and simple. I would go outside at night and the stars would shine, it was so dark that I could see the Milky Way (and it's been years since I've been able to walk through a doorway to that), and the trucks would rumble past on US-395. We barely got screens, duct taped into the window sills nearly into July when it was scorching hot. We had spade-foot toads walking into through door, dozens of different insects buzzing in, wind-scorpions, and inches of dust. It was beautiful. I spent weeks in the backcountry, dirtier than I've ever been in my life, backpack padding bruising my pelvis, eating just the nastiest vegan foods I could scrounge up, freezing at night, sleeping on pads that don't even out the cushioning (=little or no sleep), and what did I get out of it? Some of the best times of my life. I can't explain how being so minimalized and so miserable enhances the serenity and pristinity of life. Sometimes I don't get it. It's like someone giving you everything you ever wanted by taking everything away. It means something deeper. The things that matter aren't submerged deep in visceral layers of imagery and metaphors. They're right in front of us. We'll see if I can deal with this much.