Monday, April 26, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
2 blogs in under 24 hours
Despite my innate need to analyze and hypothesize, what I really need is something I can't articulate. Its nonverbal: I need love. The sort of thing where my mind will shut off and my heart will take over, if you will. Something that I can feel, not describe.
What I do feel is the scariness of my potential. I feel the warmth of my friends, but I don't deserve it. I feel the sincerity of my anonymous formspring posts, telling me that I'm genuinely a good person, but I fear that those people are misled. I feel wasted. I know that I got a 4.0 last semester, and that I have a high vocabulary, and I can write well, but I don't feel smart. Here I am, not at school but alternatively reading while drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. It's not that I'm not sick, I'm just tired and don't feel like it. Like so many other days.
It scares me. I look around my room- and see tons of books, and trash, and dirty dishes, and so many clothes on my floor that you can't even see my carpet- and all I want is out of this mess. I don't know how I got to this point. I wonder where I went.
What I do feel is the scariness of my potential. I feel the warmth of my friends, but I don't deserve it. I feel the sincerity of my anonymous formspring posts, telling me that I'm genuinely a good person, but I fear that those people are misled. I feel wasted. I know that I got a 4.0 last semester, and that I have a high vocabulary, and I can write well, but I don't feel smart. Here I am, not at school but alternatively reading while drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. It's not that I'm not sick, I'm just tired and don't feel like it. Like so many other days.
It scares me. I look around my room- and see tons of books, and trash, and dirty dishes, and so many clothes on my floor that you can't even see my carpet- and all I want is out of this mess. I don't know how I got to this point. I wonder where I went.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Bumper Sticker
I saw a bumper sticker on a car today that read "If you're not angry, you're not paying attention". We'd probably all be better off if we weren't paying attention. Centuries of bumper stickers have enriched our lives, and now we cannot go day to day without noticing the tailgaiting jerk behind us, the woman screeching into her cell phone, or the waiter who thinks he's Gods gift. After all, in the words of Thomas Gray, "Ignorance is bliss".
But for better or for worse, we no longer have the gift of oblivion. So many inconsequential details have made their way into our lives, and it's incredibly difficult to ignore. We pay attention, and the result is misanthropy ranging from the vague to the acute. We seem to take delight in comparing our irritations with others- take the blogging movement, for example.
This annoyance, however, isn't particularly good for us. Researchers have said that physiologically speaking, anger has many different effects on our body. But moreover, it appears to be something we crave- as much as sex, as much as food, as much as drugs. Aggression engages the brain's reward pathways and involves dopamine.
I don't understand why we act the way we do. But maybe it'd be easier to accept it that way.
But for better or for worse, we no longer have the gift of oblivion. So many inconsequential details have made their way into our lives, and it's incredibly difficult to ignore. We pay attention, and the result is misanthropy ranging from the vague to the acute. We seem to take delight in comparing our irritations with others- take the blogging movement, for example.
This annoyance, however, isn't particularly good for us. Researchers have said that physiologically speaking, anger has many different effects on our body. But moreover, it appears to be something we crave- as much as sex, as much as food, as much as drugs. Aggression engages the brain's reward pathways and involves dopamine.
I don't understand why we act the way we do. But maybe it'd be easier to accept it that way.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
in hope of relating to someone
Why is is that I always blog when I'm sad?
Today started off to be such a good day. I specifically wrote Chelsea a rather cute note telling her so admist my glee. But then if my day hadn't already taken a turn for the worse- which it did- I got an oh-so pleasant surprise from you just to put the cherry on top of things. That's fucking stellar.
I guess the most devastating thing is that you can still make me cry. I'm so mad at myself for giving you that power. I know that it's something you are always going to hold over me, and it makes me cry all over again. You know how to get to me, and you use that against me. What's worse is that it hurts so much more coming from you.
Furthermore, it's so frustrating that you can't just be mature. I know you're still at the phase when you slap high fives with each clever insult you come up with. I know so because that used to be you and me when you would get in fights with your exgirlfriend. A token of your alleged affection, perhaps. But I've grown up. I really, really have. You don't know the person I am today. I wouldn't believe me either if I we're you; I know we had that conversation a gazillion times. But clearly it speaks for itself when you have an attitude, and you put up this entire wall as a defense mechanism, and you text me accusing me of things that aren't true... yet I reply back to you calmly and rationally, despite the tears streaming down my face, and tell you to have a good day at the end. Why does it always have to be an argument with you?
If I realized anything today, it's that I know what it's like to feel alone. And that is why I stay alone, because I never want to feel alone again.
Time to go smoke weed.
Today started off to be such a good day. I specifically wrote Chelsea a rather cute note telling her so admist my glee. But then if my day hadn't already taken a turn for the worse- which it did- I got an oh-so pleasant surprise from you just to put the cherry on top of things. That's fucking stellar.
I guess the most devastating thing is that you can still make me cry. I'm so mad at myself for giving you that power. I know that it's something you are always going to hold over me, and it makes me cry all over again. You know how to get to me, and you use that against me. What's worse is that it hurts so much more coming from you.
Furthermore, it's so frustrating that you can't just be mature. I know you're still at the phase when you slap high fives with each clever insult you come up with. I know so because that used to be you and me when you would get in fights with your exgirlfriend. A token of your alleged affection, perhaps. But I've grown up. I really, really have. You don't know the person I am today. I wouldn't believe me either if I we're you; I know we had that conversation a gazillion times. But clearly it speaks for itself when you have an attitude, and you put up this entire wall as a defense mechanism, and you text me accusing me of things that aren't true... yet I reply back to you calmly and rationally, despite the tears streaming down my face, and tell you to have a good day at the end. Why does it always have to be an argument with you?
If I realized anything today, it's that I know what it's like to feel alone. And that is why I stay alone, because I never want to feel alone again.
Time to go smoke weed.
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