Time Wasted and Not

I should be sleeping; preparing myself for another day of work.  My thoughts are all over the place, however.  I decided to renew passwords to sites which have gone without attention for a very long time.  As is usual, I've become distracted along the way.  My organized lists of things to be done is basically a game plan for a game which never quite makes it to the field.  I've good intentions but too many things to be done which are all time-consuming.  It's so very easy to be distracted by what I'd rather be doing than what I should be doing, especially when most of my existence is built around those must-do items.  I must get out of bed in the morning at a time which goes against my nature.  I must spend at least eight hours at a job which, thankfully, allows me to survive.  I must spend that drive time and gas money; it's a means to an end. I must fill the evening with mundane chores to prepare for another day.  I must repeat this process for most of my existence and then cram into the weekends all those things I couldn't get done during the week.  I must ignore those desires that still exist from childhood which say, "Rise and shine!  There's fun to be had!"  Was life intended to be this structured, do you think?  One thing I've realized with this life that I lead is that the starving artist was born from necessity, not desire.  I have a million thoughts and ideas which never get further than my brain matter for absence of time, solitude, and the absence of the myriad of human and electronic distractions.  I used to play a game online until I got really pissed off that I was wasting all of my free time on someone else's creativity preventing the expression of my own.  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoyed it just as I would a good movie or book.  Well, maybe not a good book.  But anyway, I stopped playing.  I didn't delete the game.  I kept it for a time when I want to be distracted by that person's creativity.  That time hasn't come...yet.

Prior to the password update attempt, I was culling through photos saved on my computer...another of those items on my list.  These photos were of time spent in New York and suddenly my mind was filled with memories of an earlier time; actually, my first trip to the great city.  I spent many nights as a teenager watching old black and white movies.  Have you ever really noticed just how many movies and television shows have been centered around NYC?  So much of the image in my head of NYC was created by these movies.  Before actually visiting the city, I read a book written by the friend I was going to meet.  He loved New York and his characters brought it to life for me in a different way.  Perhaps, because of his book, the street performers remain one of my favorite parts of city life.  Of course, it could also be that I come from a world where the only street performers are the school bands in the yearly Christmas parade. Coming from this world, you either embrace the city or you shy away from it.  I became immediately immersed, minuscule, anonymous, invigorated and strangely, vibrantly alive.  Every return to the city brings the return of these same feelings.  On this first visit to the city, I remember going to see a movie.  I guess my friend didn't know what to do with his visitor and, well, who doesn't like movies?  I watched it and he slept through most of it. :)  He introduced me to an underground Jazz club which didn't surprise me since Jazz is one of his loves.  I enjoyed while he again dozed. :)  This is a person who'd probably spend a marathon of sleepless days embroiled with the characters in his head as he determined where to lead them and time with a live human required more effort.  I still find this funny.  He had time.  He'd taken time from his life and his family.  He'd done things his own obstinate way and had regrets over time lost and misunderstandings that created rifts.  I'm thinking of this because of my "starving artist" comment above.  I have found that some people are driven by what lies within but not all people with talent are so driven.  There is a lady I work with who creates the most beautiful watercolors.  She has a desire to paint more often but easily puts it aside for her husband's demands on her time, work, and the usual day-to-day demands. I'd kill to have been given her talent and method of expression. There are times I'm driven to write and I find any interruption cause for angst or resentment.  I recognize this aspect and let the writing go in deference to the human need before me.  For him, and others like him, the desire burns through the mediocrity of everyday existence and the matters of other mortals who become abstract and peripheral.  The characters he lived with each day were as real to him as I or any other live being and he gave as much as he could to each of us.  He stepped outside of himself to welcome me into his world and to entertain me for a short while; our discussions reshaping my thoughts on many things.  A New York author and the city he loved.  I shall always remain appreciative for the introduction and our time together.

Too many thoughts run through my mind now and it's late.  I realize I've interchanged tenses within the paragraph above.  I find I think of him in both tenses...past and present.  Good night, world.