You know the best thing about self-imposed deadlines and pacts? You can break them at any time without any real repurcussions! Who knows how many plans I've scrapped, forgotten, or completely obliberated?
Well, anyway, I'm back. My mother decided to stay an extra day, which I didn't mind too much, but all the same my break's now over halfway over. Eh, what can one do? Without distorting the time space continuum, of course. So much to say, so much to do, so much to not do, so little time... The funny thing is, during summer vacation I'll have so much time I won't know what to do with myself.
Well, I suppose the only thing I can think of to talk about is our little "mountain excursion." I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It really was as pointless and silly as I figured it'd be. I suppose I just don't like "communing with nature", especially if it takes hours to get there and back. It really wasn't that bad, but the "cost vs. reward" factor just wasn't there. I can walk around in circles on a track or the roads in my neighborhood just fine. But it's still a good thing we tried.
And now I believe I'll get back to my computer game. Until next time...
Wednesday, March 24
Sunday, March 21
Out to Lunch, Be Back Tuesday
Well, I'm off to Adams, that little town an hour out of Nashville where the Bell Witch reigned and just about nothing's happened there, ever. It's a nice little place, but it certainly isn't exactly exhilirating. Not that my normal existence is, but anyway... I'll have plenty to write about when I get back, but until then you'll have to make do without any crazed ramblings. Have a good few days. Until next time...
Tuesday, March 16
A drop in the bucket
Well, a minor update. We'll be doing something Saturday. Something meaning "The Plan." I've not told some people about "The Plan" because certain "people" are not tolerated well and should not be forced upon other "people." Anywho, not many posts (as you can tell by a lack of Perse) but Spring break should fix that. I'll have plenty to write about then. Now, I've got homework and slacking off on said homework. For some reason, this seems to become more of an obligation than an actual way to waste time, so in the spirit of that, I'll put it off too hehe. I'll get back in the groove during Spring Break, when I get more sleep. Ah sleep. Why hast thou forsaken me? Until next time!
Friday, March 12
I don't have Issues; I've a Year-Long subscription!
Well, I think I successfully wasted the entire day off doing next to nothing. Overall, pretty much what I expected. Now if I could only develop the skill of sleeping late, I'd be set. Unfortunately, I seem to lack the ability to fall back asleep once I wake up in the morning (morning mean sun is up). It's rather unfortunate, possibly contributing to my recent experiences of deprivation of energy (a combination of malnourishment, lack of sleep, the adjustment my eyes have to make from years of glasses to focusing differently from contacts, and the fact that I have to pull all my energy, including any positiveness from some source like a "soul") which result to a chronic slow down of brain functions around Chemistry everyday. It's a strange little phenomenom and makes me go a bit crazy every afternoon. Ok, so it's not only in the afternoon, but it's a bit more frenzied then!
Otherwise, things are going well. Occasionaly breaching wonderful and fantastic. It's a tad disturbing, but it's certainly an improvement of the previous situation of misery followed by brief elation, then more misery. Once you realize that depression, sadness, and despair are such worthless emotions, it's just matter of pushing them away. Be happy because you want to be happy, you don't need any other reasons. Sounds easy, eh? It normally is, surprisingly enough, but when I feel myself slipping back into the chasm, I just tap into Hope and I rocket back to the surface.
With misery generally taken care of, I can move on to figuring out other things. It's a peculiar thing, my mind. When I'm trying to analyze my beliefs, those core ideas that make up my moral system and what I stand for, it can be rather difficult. I "forget" a lot about why I believe certain things, so it just becomes a matter of course to believe then. Then they get twisted around and mangled to the point that I act and believe things that, when analyzed, I see are wrong and not what I'd like to be. I suppose that's what one gets for trying to constantly improve one's outlook while simultaneously worrying about all sorts of silly things and depriving oneself of most of the essentials of existence. I suppose my poor memory and retaining skills are also part of the reason I have a hard time "pulling things together." As you may have noticed, I'm not the most linear of writers. I'm sporadic and verbose, rambling from who knows where to knows where who. I suppose it makes me "dynamic", but the core of your being isn't exactly the sort of thing you want to constantly change.
I suppose it happens to everyone. If it didn't, we'd all be speaking like babies and probably not exist period. But it certainly seems like my inability to keep even myself straight leads to general confusion and mental anarchy. Needless to say, it can become rather trying and leads to me doing and saying things that I fundamentally disagree with, but don't realize for some time. For instance my psycho analysis has certainly applied in the past and partially in the present, but to what extent I'm not really sure. I've created a situation for myself where I have plenty of integrity to everyone but myself. Good fun for all, I suppose.
I believe I've gotten over my aversion to driving more than one person (as per the legal limit) in the form of civil disobedience. I disagree with the law, and as says Thoreau I shouldn't follow it. If I do get caught, it'll be simply dylicious to explain that I did it because it's what I learned in school. The relevance of this is that I've passed one obstacle to a mountain expedition. The others being direction, logistics, time, people, and a justification in my mind as to why I can't just walk in circles on a track for four hours instead of such a vast excursion. All easy enough to overcome. We simply must do something over the break. Either mountains or wraslin'. Maybe both...
And on one final note, I'll be starting the free-fall story sometime soon, this weekend or spring break. If you want in you absolutely must contact me. You all know you want to. It's good, clean, diabolical fun. Really. It is.
And on that note, I'll bid you farewell and a pleasant weekend. Until next time...
Otherwise, things are going well. Occasionaly breaching wonderful and fantastic. It's a tad disturbing, but it's certainly an improvement of the previous situation of misery followed by brief elation, then more misery. Once you realize that depression, sadness, and despair are such worthless emotions, it's just matter of pushing them away. Be happy because you want to be happy, you don't need any other reasons. Sounds easy, eh? It normally is, surprisingly enough, but when I feel myself slipping back into the chasm, I just tap into Hope and I rocket back to the surface.
With misery generally taken care of, I can move on to figuring out other things. It's a peculiar thing, my mind. When I'm trying to analyze my beliefs, those core ideas that make up my moral system and what I stand for, it can be rather difficult. I "forget" a lot about why I believe certain things, so it just becomes a matter of course to believe then. Then they get twisted around and mangled to the point that I act and believe things that, when analyzed, I see are wrong and not what I'd like to be. I suppose that's what one gets for trying to constantly improve one's outlook while simultaneously worrying about all sorts of silly things and depriving oneself of most of the essentials of existence. I suppose my poor memory and retaining skills are also part of the reason I have a hard time "pulling things together." As you may have noticed, I'm not the most linear of writers. I'm sporadic and verbose, rambling from who knows where to knows where who. I suppose it makes me "dynamic", but the core of your being isn't exactly the sort of thing you want to constantly change.
I suppose it happens to everyone. If it didn't, we'd all be speaking like babies and probably not exist period. But it certainly seems like my inability to keep even myself straight leads to general confusion and mental anarchy. Needless to say, it can become rather trying and leads to me doing and saying things that I fundamentally disagree with, but don't realize for some time. For instance my psycho analysis has certainly applied in the past and partially in the present, but to what extent I'm not really sure. I've created a situation for myself where I have plenty of integrity to everyone but myself. Good fun for all, I suppose.
I believe I've gotten over my aversion to driving more than one person (as per the legal limit) in the form of civil disobedience. I disagree with the law, and as says Thoreau I shouldn't follow it. If I do get caught, it'll be simply dylicious to explain that I did it because it's what I learned in school. The relevance of this is that I've passed one obstacle to a mountain expedition. The others being direction, logistics, time, people, and a justification in my mind as to why I can't just walk in circles on a track for four hours instead of such a vast excursion. All easy enough to overcome. We simply must do something over the break. Either mountains or wraslin'. Maybe both...
And on one final note, I'll be starting the free-fall story sometime soon, this weekend or spring break. If you want in you absolutely must contact me. You all know you want to. It's good, clean, diabolical fun. Really. It is.
And on that note, I'll bid you farewell and a pleasant weekend. Until next time...
Monday, March 8
20000 Leagues Inside My Mind
(The following is a dramatic reinactment of the events occuring this weekend. It is purely for amusement/wasting time. No animals were harmed in the making of this imaginary diversion. Enjoy.)
It was quiet. Too quiet. The submarine "Dyl's Revenge" had been floating along steadily for quite some time. So long, in fact, that the crew had quite forgotten its mission. Cabin fever had set in. The crew had long forgotten what land felt like. Suddenly a blip on the radar.
"Oncoming Social Situation at 7:30 Captain!"
"What!?! We aren't expecting any o' these dag blasted things! Well I spose it can't 'arm us too much. Take us in Mr.
Fool."
And the submarine did just that. Although the crew's apprehension was well warranted, they did need some supplies. The transfer seemed to go well, but soon "Dyl's Revenge" ran out of things to exchange. The Social Situation Sub captain gave the crew a quizzical look, but after a moment nodded and the transfer was completed. Everything seemed normal. Having been on aquamarine alert for so long, the "Dyl's Revenge" crew was in need of some slumber. They could barely finish the transfer. However they managed somehow, desperately hoping they didn't offend the other crew, and soon the Social Situation Sub was just a distant memory.
But something wasn't right. Sometime in the next shift exposions rocked the craft.
"Our Forward Engines been damaged, captain! We're taking on water! We need air!"
"Yarrr, this ain't the time for this! Blast, get us out of here!"
"No can do, we've no momentum! We're going down!"
And thus "Dyl's Revenge" sank. A feeling of Doom and forboding fell over the crew. Minutes turned to hours and hours to more hours as they sank deeper and deeper. Outside, fish old and young passed by. Still nothing could cheer the crestfallen crew. The situation appeared hopeless. Soon they would hit rock bottom and be done for.
"Curses! Send out an S.O.S on all frequencies! 'Haps someone can get us out of this 'ere mess!"
But despite there efforts, it was all in vain. The Captain had no idea what to do. Despair was beginning to set in upon most of the crew.
"Dagnabit, there 'as ta be somethin' we can do! First Mate Reason, we needs answers!"
"Sir, I regret to inform you but the entire situation is hopeless. We never should have left in the first place. No one can remember their mission, we have no direction, this was bound to happen sooner or later. We may as well consign ourselves to our fate."
"*Sigh* P'haps yore right. Shorely this ain't tha end! We've gone this fa', we can make it further! But how... Sum one, anyone? Anee suggestions?"
"Sir, it's futile. We may as well give up. The entire situation is pointless. Perhaps we should bring the entire Navy down with us. We still have a few torpedos with enough power to at least cause some damage..."
"No, Sir, I believe I might have a solution!" a tiny voice squeaked.
It was the cabin boy, Hope. He'd been forgotten sometime in a recent purge when Love and Death had tried to mutiny and been subsequently thrown into the brig. It was rumored they still had connections, and it was no large stretch to believe the explosions might have had some connection with the two.
"Well, lad, speak up! Can ye get us outta this mess or cain't ya?"
"Well Sir, if we jettison some excess weight and oxygen, we might be able to stop our descent and possibly float to the surface!"
"So be it! I'll 'ave to inspect tha hold to see what we can lose..."
Thus the captain journeyed deep inside the "Dyl's Revenge" and came upon the store.
"Well blow me down! Lookit all this stuff! Half of its rotted and useless, no wonder we're sinkin'!"
And thus the crew began to get rid of the waste. They gathered all sorts of horrible concotions and useless brews and balled them into a big ball. Despair, depression, hopelessness, angst, cynicism, fear, pity, self-consciousness, and even some left over sanity all were to be disposed of. Some even thought that First Mate Reason would insure that they made it to the surface, but the captain just gave him a stern warning and told the others to prepare for the operation. They dropped the ball of darkness into the sea and....
WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSS
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
"Dyl's Revenge" shot up out of the sea and practically blew into the sky! The crew was saved! Elation filled the ship, buoying the craft so it wouldn't sink again. But the captain had learned from past experiences. He would have to remain ever vigilant, or their mission would once again be forgotten. Their mission, as they now all remembered, was to see that hope became a fine young man and was safely carried to the other side of the sea. Many were their enemies, and often they would be tempted to take other courses. But they must remain firm. The captain ordered some sort of memorable song to make sure that the crew always remembered. And thus it was so. "Dyl's Revenge" continued on the sea, making way for that distant destination, help in tow. They would succeed. They simply had to.
It was quiet. Too quiet. The submarine "Dyl's Revenge" had been floating along steadily for quite some time. So long, in fact, that the crew had quite forgotten its mission. Cabin fever had set in. The crew had long forgotten what land felt like. Suddenly a blip on the radar.
"Oncoming Social Situation at 7:30 Captain!"
"What!?! We aren't expecting any o' these dag blasted things! Well I spose it can't 'arm us too much. Take us in Mr.
Fool."
And the submarine did just that. Although the crew's apprehension was well warranted, they did need some supplies. The transfer seemed to go well, but soon "Dyl's Revenge" ran out of things to exchange. The Social Situation Sub captain gave the crew a quizzical look, but after a moment nodded and the transfer was completed. Everything seemed normal. Having been on aquamarine alert for so long, the "Dyl's Revenge" crew was in need of some slumber. They could barely finish the transfer. However they managed somehow, desperately hoping they didn't offend the other crew, and soon the Social Situation Sub was just a distant memory.
But something wasn't right. Sometime in the next shift exposions rocked the craft.
"Our Forward Engines been damaged, captain! We're taking on water! We need air!"
"Yarrr, this ain't the time for this! Blast, get us out of here!"
"No can do, we've no momentum! We're going down!"
And thus "Dyl's Revenge" sank. A feeling of Doom and forboding fell over the crew. Minutes turned to hours and hours to more hours as they sank deeper and deeper. Outside, fish old and young passed by. Still nothing could cheer the crestfallen crew. The situation appeared hopeless. Soon they would hit rock bottom and be done for.
"Curses! Send out an S.O.S on all frequencies! 'Haps someone can get us out of this 'ere mess!"
But despite there efforts, it was all in vain. The Captain had no idea what to do. Despair was beginning to set in upon most of the crew.
"Dagnabit, there 'as ta be somethin' we can do! First Mate Reason, we needs answers!"
"Sir, I regret to inform you but the entire situation is hopeless. We never should have left in the first place. No one can remember their mission, we have no direction, this was bound to happen sooner or later. We may as well consign ourselves to our fate."
"*Sigh* P'haps yore right. Shorely this ain't tha end! We've gone this fa', we can make it further! But how... Sum one, anyone? Anee suggestions?"
"Sir, it's futile. We may as well give up. The entire situation is pointless. Perhaps we should bring the entire Navy down with us. We still have a few torpedos with enough power to at least cause some damage..."
"No, Sir, I believe I might have a solution!" a tiny voice squeaked.
It was the cabin boy, Hope. He'd been forgotten sometime in a recent purge when Love and Death had tried to mutiny and been subsequently thrown into the brig. It was rumored they still had connections, and it was no large stretch to believe the explosions might have had some connection with the two.
"Well, lad, speak up! Can ye get us outta this mess or cain't ya?"
"Well Sir, if we jettison some excess weight and oxygen, we might be able to stop our descent and possibly float to the surface!"
"So be it! I'll 'ave to inspect tha hold to see what we can lose..."
Thus the captain journeyed deep inside the "Dyl's Revenge" and came upon the store.
"Well blow me down! Lookit all this stuff! Half of its rotted and useless, no wonder we're sinkin'!"
And thus the crew began to get rid of the waste. They gathered all sorts of horrible concotions and useless brews and balled them into a big ball. Despair, depression, hopelessness, angst, cynicism, fear, pity, self-consciousness, and even some left over sanity all were to be disposed of. Some even thought that First Mate Reason would insure that they made it to the surface, but the captain just gave him a stern warning and told the others to prepare for the operation. They dropped the ball of darkness into the sea and....
WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSS
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
"Dyl's Revenge" shot up out of the sea and practically blew into the sky! The crew was saved! Elation filled the ship, buoying the craft so it wouldn't sink again. But the captain had learned from past experiences. He would have to remain ever vigilant, or their mission would once again be forgotten. Their mission, as they now all remembered, was to see that hope became a fine young man and was safely carried to the other side of the sea. Many were their enemies, and often they would be tempted to take other courses. But they must remain firm. The captain ordered some sort of memorable song to make sure that the crew always remembered. And thus it was so. "Dyl's Revenge" continued on the sea, making way for that distant destination, help in tow. They would succeed. They simply had to.
Saturday, March 6
Full of a Void
(Just as a post-post warning, this is basically a horribly long and silly rant of me attempting to analyze my warped psyche, so you might not want to read past this point. I also begin to use the word "you" meaning you the reader and you as in anyone other me. It doesn't really apply well to most of the people who read this, but it's there. It's kinda creepy actually. But anyway, a new Perse entry should be created sometime tomorrow, and if I have time possibly the "free-fall" blog which I need additional emails to, for those interested, and you all should be. We've also almost completed a full round at www.ruleofanarachy.blogspot.com which I think is rather exciting and entertaining. And without further adieu, here's me whining about myself once again hehe.)
Angst. Seems to fit my current state to a tee. It's interesting how one word can so sum up a situation and how you don't really realize how completely and utterly apt it is until you've experienced it. At any rate, I'm "angsty." I suppose the best way to describe it is yearning for something. But this isn't just any something, like a spoon or a cupcake. It's sort of an anonymous something, something that I don't know or think I can achieve. Thus a void is created inside me, but I don't mean like a hole in one's lung (Believe me, I've been there ;) ). It's like a blackhole, sucking every glimmer of life and joy inside of it. No amount of Thin Mints seem capable of appeasing it's malicious appetite. This "sucking" quality leads to a "depression." Of course, it's not as bad as I've had before. It's just particularly distressing.
So then I begin to search within the twisted mass of my soul to figure out what I want. My first thought is love. Not any obligational thing, but real, romantic, "Highest Teir of Emotion" Love. But that's not quite it. My mind goes through the almost memorized ritual of convincing me it's an evil little concept that is for others, but not for me (And unfortunately, I'm not going to "See her face and become a believer" for you Monkee's fans...).
My next guess is social activity. I actually did somewhat participate in a version of it last night, but it too is quickly shredded by my mind. See, for some reason I have a sort of aversion to "small-talk." If it's not a forced situation, I don't know how to "make conversation." I can't gossip, because I'm so unjudgmental of other people, it seems absolutely trivial to talk about them. I don't mind watching others do it, but "utter silence" from an individual with the potential to be quite boisterous and overbearing seems to just bring the entire situation "down." This social ineptness is only compounded by my contacts, which, suffice it to say (and to save you an even longer rant), thoroughly tax my brain to the point of exhaustion where I can barely think. I hope I can get used to them so they won't be so straining, but at the moment it's quite an effort to remain active and coherent.
So social activity is out. Love is out. Of course, there's the inexplicable "Reason." I want a reason. A reason to live, a reason to try, a reason to keep on going. But I thought I had that. I've made some nice plans for the future that I think I can tolerate and enjoy, and they're all perfectly feasible.
What else is there? Perhaps it's a desire to create some form of art. But I've no artistic talent. My writing just lacks a certain cohesive thread to pull it all together, so I have no firm, inner basis to build around. I can't really perform, except in crazy world domination schemes and an utterly random train of thought, but I'm under the impression that they're quite overbearing and I've yet to find anyone who will fully go along with them to the extent that I do.
Finally my last answer is some sort of action. Building, working, just something that is more than wasting time. But nothing really comes to me as enjoyable. I considered walking, but there's only so much time one can spend walking in circles alone. So then I thought of hiking, but it takes so long to get to the mountains and it's such a pain to do. I thought of inviting people and making an adventure of it, but a one day adventure to someplace in the Smokies would end up with us lost, cold, and alone and that's just on the trail back. I shudder to think at me trying to drive home from so far away.
Now I begin to think it's not a desire at all. It's anxiety and partial regret. Not the regret of things past, but the sort of regret in the present where you have a situation, you want to do something, but you don't and won't do it. This "situation" is life in general. I've so many things I could do, and at least a few people to do them with. But the anxiety and despair comes from the fact that I won't for long. I'll go off to college and leave this all behind. Perhaps not literally, but after high school, what's left? A new world of freedom and new people. I've gone through the process of leaving old friends behind and finding new ones (Although I still don't quite know how to define "friend"). I think I'm afraid of being utterly alone. Not literally alone, but a sort of semi-hermit for the rest of my life. Just me. And I suppose my problem is that I'm just not selfish enough. I don't have a mind centered towards my "wants" and "needs." They all become factors of how much entertainment or how much of a burden they are to others. That's why I'm so hermitlike, because I don't want to inconvenience or make others uncomfortable, so I avoid them entirely.
In fact, I feel bad even posting this. Not only because it's a burden on you, the reader, but because it's long, boring, and you've probably experienced yourself and don't need to be reminded. It's that sort of mentality that holds me back. Now, you might think that it would lead me to be a nice, kind, considerate person. Well, to a certain extent I am. I do tease people and make sarcastic comments in their general direction, but I do it because I don't think they'll be hurt or upset about it. I make fun of myself much more often than others, for the most part.I'd like to fix every single person's problems or help them find a solution. I'd like to cure every pain, and every ill. I want to make people entertained, to be happy. But I don't know how. I see someone upset, mad, distressed, depressed, despairing, or unhappy in general and I want to reach out and tell them that there's no reason for it. Because I know it's the truth. Those emotions ought to be completely unnecessary. But I can't. I can't fix everything, that's just the way things are.
But it's even worse than "the way things are" for me. I won't even let myself touch other people, except in quite distant motions. Shaking hands perturbs me for crying out loud. And, ironically enough, it's for precisely the same reason that some physical contact is necessary. It's a matter of convenience, for me, because I know I won't be a burden on others. By keeping myself distant, I don't even have that oppurtunity. And thus I've grown to avoid human touch and dislike it when it happens for precisely that reason (a sort of evolving disdain, I suppose).
It's my main problem with "love" and all that rot too. The "other variable." The "other variable" meaning you. You, the other person. That strange entity that gets mad and upset, that hates, that is so different from me. I can't predict you. I can't understand you. So I avoid you. Online, I rarely IM people. I generally wait for them to come to me (with the exception of David, because I have to show funny comics to somebody heh). At school I have to be there so I don't feel responsible. But when I have an active choice, where my decisions and actions have a direct effect upon others, it drives me mad.
It's rather funny, and by funny I suppose I mean sadly ironic. I'm so considerate to the point of being horribly inconsiderate. I suppose I'm that way because I know there's no reason to get upset over anything, few things get to/bother/annoy me so I feel that I can make any sacrifices necessary because you other people are the ones who care. But that's confounded by the fact that I don't understand you. I can't guess how you'll react to things, so I avoid you and avoid making you uncomfortable. Of course, this is a generalization and the people reading this are probably the ones this least applies to. But it's still somewhat applicable.
So that's my situation. It's rather self-defeating/self-destructive but that's the way it seems to be working. It's created a state where I don't get enjoyment from doing things by myself. The only real way that I can even minutely enjoy myself is by escaping into television or a video game or a book. But it's still just that, an escape. An even greater illusion than reality might be. But I don't want to escape for the rest of my life. If that were the case, I may as well find a permanent escape. That just can't be the answer.
And soon I'll be cut off from all of you. Sure, there will still be AIM. But it won't be the same. I never have anything to talk about, and I don't IM you, so the burden would be fully on your shoulders. Oh, yes, there's that word again. "Burden." You thought this horrible self-analysis was over, eh? Unfortunately no. For you see, that might be the root of the entire issue. "Burdens." For instance, when I had my accident. I would have been perfectly fine and held no ill will if it had been some one else's fault. No worries about it at all. But I was solely responsible. It was what made the entire experience so terrible. The guilt. I destroyed my beloved Beretta. I cost us a few thousand dollars. I made the insurance go up. I wrecked our vacation. I inconvenienced all of you in coming out to the hospital. Me, myself, and I. I just can't stand being a burden. Being a leech, a drain, a tax, a tithe, a parasite, an annoyance, a monster, a downer, a glum, depressed, self-pitying fool. That seems to be the reason for all of the negative feelings that I experience. So the only way to get past it is to let you make the first move. If you ask me, I don't have to feel entirely "responsible" for me ruining your time. You're the one making the choice, you're the one who has to live with it.
And here's where it gets even crazier and more contradictions occur. I so abhor responsibility to others even though I don't believe in the thing. I don't believe in free will, for crying out loud, how can I even entertain the notion of responsibility? But I do. I suppose that's where the Puritan within me comes into conflict with my "beliefs." It's so deeply imbedded. (Of course, that's another irony. Puritans didn't believe in free-will either, but that's a different story). I have to act "good." Recently I've tried to stick up to the integrity of my "beliefs", but I still have the constant urge to do "good." Whenever I do something that annoys or makes others mad for many reasons, I almost immediately want to take it back and redo the entire thing. When I know I'm right, then it doesn't bother me. But that's a relatively rare occurence, so I very deeply regret things to the point of anguish.
This causes me to want almost constant positive reassurance. I have to know what people think, if they liked something, if they're upset, if they don't care. That's what's so great about laughter, because I can tell. When someone laughs, it's obvious they're amused. But that's so rare. Other times, I just don't know. And I can't ask, because it sounds needy and pushy, another inconvenience. To compensate for the not knowing, I have to be overly apologetic and self-defacing. I have to make you know I don't matter and that you shouldn't be annoyed by me. It's why I wrote that disclaimer at the top, so it'd be your fault if you read this and were sickened with pity or disgust or annoyance that someone would be so free or open or selfish or utterly wretched or whatever. You would be making the burden, not me.
It's enough to drive a guy mad. I seem to have a system of living and beliefs that defeats itself. It's a viscious cycle. And it's one I just don't know how to break. And thus my future, and that's what this is really all about, is so perilous. When you find it rather difficult to live for yourself, but you don't see living with anyone else as a feasible option, you're left at an impasse. Thus, I couldn't work in a job merely working for myself. I'd have to be a public servant. That leads me to be a teacher. But since I can't live for myself, my enjoyment of escaping to math (which might be discussed in another entry) can't sustain it alone. I have to be entertaining, have to help the students learn and enjoy my class. If I'm successful, I can survive. But if I fail, which seems terribly likely, what will be the point? I'd be a burden to even more people. And that's my fear. My already reserved quality, my eccentric nature, my utter foolishness. All seem to imply that this aspiration will end in failure. And thus I can't have hope to uplift me from depression. And without that hope, and without sharing the burden of existence on others, I become a burden to myself. Thus creating a void and this feeling of implosion. And we've come full circle, solved the problem, and now it's time to celebrate. Hoo-rah. You'd better clean up that confetti, because I'm sure not going to.
So that's about it. But maybe I give myself too much credit. Maybe this is the ideal situation and there's some other cause for me being and acting like I do. Certainly I've used "I" in so much of this, it seems self-centered. How could I be so self-centered if this were true? Ah well. And please don't look at this as reaching out for help or pity or compassion. I've just written all this because it seems to be the Truth and because I needed to really try to figure it out.
I suppose that's enough psycho-analysis for today. I'm sorry it took so long. Perhaps you saw some similarities of yourself in all this. Perhaps not. It helps me, I suppose, to find answers that seem to fit the equation, to fully get out in the open why I am what I am. Maybe I'm wrong. But at the moment, this seems to be me.
I'm a Puritan without God. A compassionate romantic who just wants to leave everything alone. An enthusiastic, overbearing, conservative, apathetic enigma. I know the basis of everything, and therefore I'm an utter fool. I'm a modest, helpful, arrogant, haughty jerk. I'm a fool. I'm sorry. In entirely too many ways.
(JEEZ! When I get on a tangent, I really beat the thing to death! Hopefully you didn't read all that. I really am sorry it was so long, rambling, and inane. It's also probably disjointed, since I realized quite a few things while I was writing and went back to add them in, so you'll have to excuse my lack of order. Not that I ever really have any. Hopefully I can stop doing these elaborate analyses of myself, the universe, and everything. Get back to the basics of warping my day to randomness. But not tonight. Until next time...)
Angst. Seems to fit my current state to a tee. It's interesting how one word can so sum up a situation and how you don't really realize how completely and utterly apt it is until you've experienced it. At any rate, I'm "angsty." I suppose the best way to describe it is yearning for something. But this isn't just any something, like a spoon or a cupcake. It's sort of an anonymous something, something that I don't know or think I can achieve. Thus a void is created inside me, but I don't mean like a hole in one's lung (Believe me, I've been there ;) ). It's like a blackhole, sucking every glimmer of life and joy inside of it. No amount of Thin Mints seem capable of appeasing it's malicious appetite. This "sucking" quality leads to a "depression." Of course, it's not as bad as I've had before. It's just particularly distressing.
So then I begin to search within the twisted mass of my soul to figure out what I want. My first thought is love. Not any obligational thing, but real, romantic, "Highest Teir of Emotion" Love. But that's not quite it. My mind goes through the almost memorized ritual of convincing me it's an evil little concept that is for others, but not for me (And unfortunately, I'm not going to "See her face and become a believer" for you Monkee's fans...).
My next guess is social activity. I actually did somewhat participate in a version of it last night, but it too is quickly shredded by my mind. See, for some reason I have a sort of aversion to "small-talk." If it's not a forced situation, I don't know how to "make conversation." I can't gossip, because I'm so unjudgmental of other people, it seems absolutely trivial to talk about them. I don't mind watching others do it, but "utter silence" from an individual with the potential to be quite boisterous and overbearing seems to just bring the entire situation "down." This social ineptness is only compounded by my contacts, which, suffice it to say (and to save you an even longer rant), thoroughly tax my brain to the point of exhaustion where I can barely think. I hope I can get used to them so they won't be so straining, but at the moment it's quite an effort to remain active and coherent.
So social activity is out. Love is out. Of course, there's the inexplicable "Reason." I want a reason. A reason to live, a reason to try, a reason to keep on going. But I thought I had that. I've made some nice plans for the future that I think I can tolerate and enjoy, and they're all perfectly feasible.
What else is there? Perhaps it's a desire to create some form of art. But I've no artistic talent. My writing just lacks a certain cohesive thread to pull it all together, so I have no firm, inner basis to build around. I can't really perform, except in crazy world domination schemes and an utterly random train of thought, but I'm under the impression that they're quite overbearing and I've yet to find anyone who will fully go along with them to the extent that I do.
Finally my last answer is some sort of action. Building, working, just something that is more than wasting time. But nothing really comes to me as enjoyable. I considered walking, but there's only so much time one can spend walking in circles alone. So then I thought of hiking, but it takes so long to get to the mountains and it's such a pain to do. I thought of inviting people and making an adventure of it, but a one day adventure to someplace in the Smokies would end up with us lost, cold, and alone and that's just on the trail back. I shudder to think at me trying to drive home from so far away.
Now I begin to think it's not a desire at all. It's anxiety and partial regret. Not the regret of things past, but the sort of regret in the present where you have a situation, you want to do something, but you don't and won't do it. This "situation" is life in general. I've so many things I could do, and at least a few people to do them with. But the anxiety and despair comes from the fact that I won't for long. I'll go off to college and leave this all behind. Perhaps not literally, but after high school, what's left? A new world of freedom and new people. I've gone through the process of leaving old friends behind and finding new ones (Although I still don't quite know how to define "friend"). I think I'm afraid of being utterly alone. Not literally alone, but a sort of semi-hermit for the rest of my life. Just me. And I suppose my problem is that I'm just not selfish enough. I don't have a mind centered towards my "wants" and "needs." They all become factors of how much entertainment or how much of a burden they are to others. That's why I'm so hermitlike, because I don't want to inconvenience or make others uncomfortable, so I avoid them entirely.
In fact, I feel bad even posting this. Not only because it's a burden on you, the reader, but because it's long, boring, and you've probably experienced yourself and don't need to be reminded. It's that sort of mentality that holds me back. Now, you might think that it would lead me to be a nice, kind, considerate person. Well, to a certain extent I am. I do tease people and make sarcastic comments in their general direction, but I do it because I don't think they'll be hurt or upset about it. I make fun of myself much more often than others, for the most part.I'd like to fix every single person's problems or help them find a solution. I'd like to cure every pain, and every ill. I want to make people entertained, to be happy. But I don't know how. I see someone upset, mad, distressed, depressed, despairing, or unhappy in general and I want to reach out and tell them that there's no reason for it. Because I know it's the truth. Those emotions ought to be completely unnecessary. But I can't. I can't fix everything, that's just the way things are.
But it's even worse than "the way things are" for me. I won't even let myself touch other people, except in quite distant motions. Shaking hands perturbs me for crying out loud. And, ironically enough, it's for precisely the same reason that some physical contact is necessary. It's a matter of convenience, for me, because I know I won't be a burden on others. By keeping myself distant, I don't even have that oppurtunity. And thus I've grown to avoid human touch and dislike it when it happens for precisely that reason (a sort of evolving disdain, I suppose).
It's my main problem with "love" and all that rot too. The "other variable." The "other variable" meaning you. You, the other person. That strange entity that gets mad and upset, that hates, that is so different from me. I can't predict you. I can't understand you. So I avoid you. Online, I rarely IM people. I generally wait for them to come to me (with the exception of David, because I have to show funny comics to somebody heh). At school I have to be there so I don't feel responsible. But when I have an active choice, where my decisions and actions have a direct effect upon others, it drives me mad.
It's rather funny, and by funny I suppose I mean sadly ironic. I'm so considerate to the point of being horribly inconsiderate. I suppose I'm that way because I know there's no reason to get upset over anything, few things get to/bother/annoy me so I feel that I can make any sacrifices necessary because you other people are the ones who care. But that's confounded by the fact that I don't understand you. I can't guess how you'll react to things, so I avoid you and avoid making you uncomfortable. Of course, this is a generalization and the people reading this are probably the ones this least applies to. But it's still somewhat applicable.
So that's my situation. It's rather self-defeating/self-destructive but that's the way it seems to be working. It's created a state where I don't get enjoyment from doing things by myself. The only real way that I can even minutely enjoy myself is by escaping into television or a video game or a book. But it's still just that, an escape. An even greater illusion than reality might be. But I don't want to escape for the rest of my life. If that were the case, I may as well find a permanent escape. That just can't be the answer.
And soon I'll be cut off from all of you. Sure, there will still be AIM. But it won't be the same. I never have anything to talk about, and I don't IM you, so the burden would be fully on your shoulders. Oh, yes, there's that word again. "Burden." You thought this horrible self-analysis was over, eh? Unfortunately no. For you see, that might be the root of the entire issue. "Burdens." For instance, when I had my accident. I would have been perfectly fine and held no ill will if it had been some one else's fault. No worries about it at all. But I was solely responsible. It was what made the entire experience so terrible. The guilt. I destroyed my beloved Beretta. I cost us a few thousand dollars. I made the insurance go up. I wrecked our vacation. I inconvenienced all of you in coming out to the hospital. Me, myself, and I. I just can't stand being a burden. Being a leech, a drain, a tax, a tithe, a parasite, an annoyance, a monster, a downer, a glum, depressed, self-pitying fool. That seems to be the reason for all of the negative feelings that I experience. So the only way to get past it is to let you make the first move. If you ask me, I don't have to feel entirely "responsible" for me ruining your time. You're the one making the choice, you're the one who has to live with it.
And here's where it gets even crazier and more contradictions occur. I so abhor responsibility to others even though I don't believe in the thing. I don't believe in free will, for crying out loud, how can I even entertain the notion of responsibility? But I do. I suppose that's where the Puritan within me comes into conflict with my "beliefs." It's so deeply imbedded. (Of course, that's another irony. Puritans didn't believe in free-will either, but that's a different story). I have to act "good." Recently I've tried to stick up to the integrity of my "beliefs", but I still have the constant urge to do "good." Whenever I do something that annoys or makes others mad for many reasons, I almost immediately want to take it back and redo the entire thing. When I know I'm right, then it doesn't bother me. But that's a relatively rare occurence, so I very deeply regret things to the point of anguish.
This causes me to want almost constant positive reassurance. I have to know what people think, if they liked something, if they're upset, if they don't care. That's what's so great about laughter, because I can tell. When someone laughs, it's obvious they're amused. But that's so rare. Other times, I just don't know. And I can't ask, because it sounds needy and pushy, another inconvenience. To compensate for the not knowing, I have to be overly apologetic and self-defacing. I have to make you know I don't matter and that you shouldn't be annoyed by me. It's why I wrote that disclaimer at the top, so it'd be your fault if you read this and were sickened with pity or disgust or annoyance that someone would be so free or open or selfish or utterly wretched or whatever. You would be making the burden, not me.
It's enough to drive a guy mad. I seem to have a system of living and beliefs that defeats itself. It's a viscious cycle. And it's one I just don't know how to break. And thus my future, and that's what this is really all about, is so perilous. When you find it rather difficult to live for yourself, but you don't see living with anyone else as a feasible option, you're left at an impasse. Thus, I couldn't work in a job merely working for myself. I'd have to be a public servant. That leads me to be a teacher. But since I can't live for myself, my enjoyment of escaping to math (which might be discussed in another entry) can't sustain it alone. I have to be entertaining, have to help the students learn and enjoy my class. If I'm successful, I can survive. But if I fail, which seems terribly likely, what will be the point? I'd be a burden to even more people. And that's my fear. My already reserved quality, my eccentric nature, my utter foolishness. All seem to imply that this aspiration will end in failure. And thus I can't have hope to uplift me from depression. And without that hope, and without sharing the burden of existence on others, I become a burden to myself. Thus creating a void and this feeling of implosion. And we've come full circle, solved the problem, and now it's time to celebrate. Hoo-rah. You'd better clean up that confetti, because I'm sure not going to.
So that's about it. But maybe I give myself too much credit. Maybe this is the ideal situation and there's some other cause for me being and acting like I do. Certainly I've used "I" in so much of this, it seems self-centered. How could I be so self-centered if this were true? Ah well. And please don't look at this as reaching out for help or pity or compassion. I've just written all this because it seems to be the Truth and because I needed to really try to figure it out.
I suppose that's enough psycho-analysis for today. I'm sorry it took so long. Perhaps you saw some similarities of yourself in all this. Perhaps not. It helps me, I suppose, to find answers that seem to fit the equation, to fully get out in the open why I am what I am. Maybe I'm wrong. But at the moment, this seems to be me.
I'm a Puritan without God. A compassionate romantic who just wants to leave everything alone. An enthusiastic, overbearing, conservative, apathetic enigma. I know the basis of everything, and therefore I'm an utter fool. I'm a modest, helpful, arrogant, haughty jerk. I'm a fool. I'm sorry. In entirely too many ways.
(JEEZ! When I get on a tangent, I really beat the thing to death! Hopefully you didn't read all that. I really am sorry it was so long, rambling, and inane. It's also probably disjointed, since I realized quite a few things while I was writing and went back to add them in, so you'll have to excuse my lack of order. Not that I ever really have any. Hopefully I can stop doing these elaborate analyses of myself, the universe, and everything. Get back to the basics of warping my day to randomness. But not tonight. Until next time...)
Tuesday, March 2
Brain Permafrost
Well, as the title suggests, my mind is just not in mint condition. Various reasons, including but not limited to stress, self-destructive tendencies, loads of assignments, coming to terms with how I should think as opposed to how I'm used to thinking, fully demolishing emotions I have no business dealing with, and writing projects I enjoy, but that self-imposed deadlines make more chore-like than actual personal entertainment.
With that said, I hope you'll understand if I skimp on Perse this week, as I did not get around to it this weekend and I doubt I can get myself motivated/inspired enough to do the fourth entry. I really need to get it done Saturday so I don't have to rush against a deadline... Ah well, lessons learned, eh? Rest assured, it's far from over hehe.
As for my other projects, for those who don't know, the first "Roleplaying" blog was created at ruleofanarchy.blogspot.com . I chose a generic fantasy theme because, let's face it, those are the best scenarios for intrigue, backstabbing, and epic battles. If anyone else wants to join the set rotation and thinks they have the time, I'll let ya slide in. Otherwise, the "free-fall" version should be up around the end of the week. Who knows how that will go. I still need anyone's email who's interested. You know you want to.
Of course with all these projects, homework, etc. one would think I'm quite busy. It's rather remarkable, but I actually still manage to waste time. I suppose comes from the fact that my brain barely functions during the day anyway, so by the time I get out of school, I desperately seek an escape that I don't have to fathom myself. That's not to say I don't like my self-created escapes, but they're still a bit mentally taxing.
Those of you who are semi-observant may have noticed I'm wearing contacts. I've actually had the blasted things since November, but today marks the first time I've been able to wear them five days in a row. My encouragement being that I began experiencing "mind clouds" around Statistics each day and thought my vision might be the problem, so my contacts with better seeing power may fix it. Another reason might be my mass of hair with the sideburns whose existence can only be credited to a temporary attack of laziness where I let the barber spare their miserable little lives and now they've grown into monsters. Hopefully I can have them properly decapitated tomorrow.
Well, my contacts are obviously distorting my perception, and are probably the source of my rambling. So to save you the effort, I'll stop here. Maybe I'll go to sleep early... First time for everything, eh?
With that said, I hope you'll understand if I skimp on Perse this week, as I did not get around to it this weekend and I doubt I can get myself motivated/inspired enough to do the fourth entry. I really need to get it done Saturday so I don't have to rush against a deadline... Ah well, lessons learned, eh? Rest assured, it's far from over hehe.
As for my other projects, for those who don't know, the first "Roleplaying" blog was created at ruleofanarchy.blogspot.com . I chose a generic fantasy theme because, let's face it, those are the best scenarios for intrigue, backstabbing, and epic battles. If anyone else wants to join the set rotation and thinks they have the time, I'll let ya slide in. Otherwise, the "free-fall" version should be up around the end of the week. Who knows how that will go. I still need anyone's email who's interested. You know you want to.
Of course with all these projects, homework, etc. one would think I'm quite busy. It's rather remarkable, but I actually still manage to waste time. I suppose comes from the fact that my brain barely functions during the day anyway, so by the time I get out of school, I desperately seek an escape that I don't have to fathom myself. That's not to say I don't like my self-created escapes, but they're still a bit mentally taxing.
Those of you who are semi-observant may have noticed I'm wearing contacts. I've actually had the blasted things since November, but today marks the first time I've been able to wear them five days in a row. My encouragement being that I began experiencing "mind clouds" around Statistics each day and thought my vision might be the problem, so my contacts with better seeing power may fix it. Another reason might be my mass of hair with the sideburns whose existence can only be credited to a temporary attack of laziness where I let the barber spare their miserable little lives and now they've grown into monsters. Hopefully I can have them properly decapitated tomorrow.
Well, my contacts are obviously distorting my perception, and are probably the source of my rambling. So to save you the effort, I'll stop here. Maybe I'll go to sleep early... First time for everything, eh?