Spencer Moseley

Are you your own god? That's a question I've gotten before. There's an underlying assumption in that question that a person is incapable or downright prideful when deciding right from wrong without a god or some higher authority to validate.  Aristotle was cool. He argued that arguments from authority are the worst kind and that an argument should be evaluated based on content rather than on who said it. Celebrities would be in a world of hurt if everyone thought this way. Most of the shit they say has meaningless/virtue-signaling content with little to contribute. And I'm probably breaking my own rule by arguing against arguments from authority after basically calling Aristotle an authority! As humans we have a collective anxiety about our futures and pasts. I went through agony trying to pick a new apartment last week. This anxiety causes us to tend to rely too much on others for answers and to seek quick fixes to hard questions.  How did the world begin? God. Why God...

This weekend will be a good one. I'm touring new apartments in the Midtown/Heights/Montrose Houston area all day tomorrow, shopping 'til I drop on Saturday, and brunching hard on Sunday. I'm happy. For the first time in a long time I woke up at 5am this morning with a smile. I smiled at my dog, and he snorted back at me.  I've taken some actions that I think have been life-changing. I get on my phone only for communication with others. I've cancelled my gym membership and workout by myself outside with a focus on cardio. I can't say I'm eating healthier, but I'm connecting with my body and trying to only eat when I feel like it. I'm trying to perceive my body/weight with compassion and love rather than disgust. I'm taking time each day for quiet and meditation, and I'm being more social. I'm also more focused on my dreams and that keeps me less concerned about inconsequential bullshit.  I realize that feeling this good right now will end....

I carried my dog Yoda nearly the full 4 mile hike through the Lost Maples State Park today. The sights were stunning, and I didn’t take any pics because I’m tired of seeing so many pics from so many people (including myself).  I enjoyed it because it helped me process emotion. As I hiked, Yoda got annoying to carry. The sweat kept making my fucking glasses fall down my nose, and the sun beat down on me like Hell. I got angry. I got angry for “wasting my life”, for “not knowing what my purpose is”, for “being single”. We stopped in the shade so I could catch my breath and I’d walk in circles talking to myself about how mad I was.  But as time wore on, I got tired. I settled into the present moment and my mind’s chatter died down. I started to notice the views, feel the beads of sweat on my forehead. I thought about all the painful progress I’ve made. I thought of how far I’ve come and how hard it’s been to get this far. I still have a mind that goes wild, even now, but I’m a li...

Colors are bursting from my heart today. I rely on this color, shaping my world and giving me help. When my inner motivation isn't there, I feel myself drowning and can't be the man I want to be. I want to be consistent, but sometimes just doing my taxes or buying new shirts to replace my torn-button shirts is the biggest effort. And I know I only have myself to blame. I tell myself not to be so hard on myself, but all I can do is imagine better versions of myself that I'm failing to be.  Are my expectations too high? Or am I just a lazy piece of shit? I think this question stems from not feeling loved enough. And I have plenty of friends who love me deeply. So I guess it's not that I'm not objectively loved enough but that I don't feel loved enough. I probably just need to go out with friends more, but when I get home after working my ass off, all I want to do is chill with an unhealthy snack and watch TV. Why are my base tendencies such a far cry from the man ...

There’s been nothing of interest going on in my life. At all. I've been too scared to do whatever I want. I keep waiting for life to magically improve. This idea that someone will come into my life and save me comes from my upbringing. I was brought up with a savior, Jesus, who I always thought would swoop in like a gallant knight and pull me out of my misery. Now I know that if he does exist, he doesn't seem to care; and if he doesn't exist, no one cares. My life is in my hands. God is not in control, I am. And that's terrifying.  We're all just masses of thoughts and emotions on a spinny planet, revolving around the sun in an (in)finite cosmos. For any belief we think we hold, there should be some fine print, subject to change . Even the principled Ned Stark proclaimed Joffrey King before he died. No values are absolute in a relative universe, not even the value that no values are absolute.  There is no certainty, and this bothers me. Sometimes I'm like, Pleas...

  Artemis spotted Hermes a ways off from the meadow where she stood, sharpening her spear. His winged shoes propelled him effortlessly through the air. She smiled. “Did the plan work?” asked Artemis. “Yes,” said Hermes, hovering above her. “He swore on the River Styx, too.” “Good,” she said, taking her spear for a twirl. Hermes pulled out his dagger and countered it in as he landed on the ground. Their sparring collided in a myriad of sparks. Artemis side-stepped his slice. Her spear whirled behind her back and caught Hermes off-guard. The tip was pointing in his face.  “Surprise surprise, Artemis, goddess of the moon, beats me,” he said. Artemis laughed, sheathing her spear behind her back.  “You sure you want to go about it like this?” asked Hermes. “I can think of a number of ways this could go very badly. Even if you convince her, I don’t know how an endless winter will appease anyone.” “I’m sure,” she said. “And I have a plan.” “I’m tired,” he said. “And not up for a...

Hermes de-boarded Charon’s boat on Hades’ shores, a windless corner of the Underworld. Charon groaned, making Hermes’ eyes water with his foul breath, and held out a three-fingered hand.  “Well what’s the point of this?” asked Hermes, waving his Golden Bough sardonically. Charon groaned again, louder, so Hermes flicked him a gold coin.  “Maybe go buy yourself a hot bath and a mint tea,” said Hermes, brushing his blonde curls from his eyes.  Charon’s boat drifted back the way it came, his strange boat somehow able to navigate the twisted River Styx. Hades was force-feeding dates to Persephone as Hermes entered his simple home.  “I just want you to stay with me a little longer, dear,” Hades said as his wife squirmed in frustration. “Nephew, tell her. Tell her that Demeter can suck my—” Persephone swatted a date away, “Do you really think your brother—” “And father-in-law,” interrupted Hades. Persephone frowned, “Do you think he would tolerate an endless famine?” Hades ...