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| | Figured it's time for another entry, since, apparently, people read this damn thing.
I've often wanted to write for catharsis, as certain prominent psychologists advocate, but there is very rarely a real opportunity to do so. Too many inhibitions, too much to say in such a short period of time, too many people to consider. Who's watching me? Who's judging me? Am I judging me? However, in that surreal state where you space out, lose motor skills, are alone with yourself and your thoughts, where all temporal doubts and worries cease to exist, and you slip between conciousness and unconciousness, therein lies the purest faith and reason. Fear no one's thoughts, not even your own. Have I coalesced to such a state as we speak? Yes, and no. For one, this IS a public xanga, and my psyche dare not let me forget it. Nothing I've ever written here has really just been on a whim. I usually edit out the parts that sound incriminating, sometimes. Use words that seem more appropriate rather than what I was thinking, etc: So I'm hard pressed for many written records. Truly sucks.
On to more trivial matters, it is currently 1:33am at the time I write this sentence, I've slapped my lab together and done what I believe is all my homework, save study for a Pre-Cal test. Which, most of us consider, is rather important. At this point in time, I feel like that is rather important too. I'd rather be reading, as I have a huge backlog to clear, but schooling gets in the way of education, and I have three unfinished books I'm reading all at once, with potentially more on the way. I'm quite glad I'm receiving such an influx of information.
The sychronocity of recent events are actually quite peculiar. Though I suspect that my recent inclinations expose me to more of the same of what I've been experiencing, as well as being receptive to things I unconciously ignored previously, the repetitive mention of the same fundamental ideas from radically different sources almost seems too coinsidential. Actually, it probably isn't, but hey, I needed something to write. For continuity.
I tend to free associate a lot. Tangeant is my middle name. Given lack of inhibitions, among other variables, you could wind me up and I'd go on for hours about everything. As my old English teacher used to say, "nothing exists in a vacuum." Everything is related to everything else, and one thing is often a function of many other fundamental life processes or paradigms...Something random to write indeed.
In that vein (the bored, sleepy, lost one), I've actually been writing for some of the night already. Mott gave us an assignment that I planned to complete immediately after finishing my Physics lab. I don't have much faith in Mott's teaching, it is illogical and ineffective, but once I got through Physics and his vocabulary nonsense (which I got through by liberally blasting music, else I would've dozed off at my post), I figured I couldn't write the damn thing. It wasn't an essay or anything like that, it was just effort that's best expended elsewhere, such as the test studying I should be doing, or showering in fact. However, after a good 5 minutes I basically had the following:
¤ ********** Being somewhat cautious about the people I associate with, I tend not to be surprised when I run into one of their personality quirks or skeletons. This may be because I have particularly uninteresting friends, or that my relationship with some of them isn't all it's cracked up to be, though I can contend that some of my friends are, on the contrary, very interesting. That is all beside the point. The person I was most startled to discover something about was, in fact, myself. Some people never turn the eye inward at themselves to point out their own character flaws and faults, and I was no exception. It was through a rather dynamic chain of events that caused me to see myself as I really was, and, frighteningly, how others may have viewed me as well. This very well may have been a typical psychological progression to a more mature state, but it was not a gradual process as much as rather abrupt and nerve-wrecking, as most teen problems are.
************* Once junior high school ended, I suddenly felt the need to accentuate the negative, not in myself, but moreso in others. Maybe it was the feeling of being older or better than others (hype about the school), or the sudden false feeling of maturity or understanding that an intermediary school diploma could convey. I am not at liberty to discuss such matters at the moment, nor do I have the capability to do so. I am not a qualified psychologist. At any rate, I pompously felt the need to offer differing points of view just to be different, argue in a defeatist manner, be arrogant, or otherwise simply be an ass. It wasn't on purpose, and certainly didn't manifest itself all the time (people aren't purely one way or another), but one notable place where that description was almost always valid was in my Freshman English class. Quite contrary to my habits as of late, I would unerringly (and rather obnoxiously) feel the need to speak up whenever the opportunity arose not because I really wanted to answer the question or provide an earnest opinion, but simply to be heard. This was just the surface of deeper, more fundamental problems. I had crystallized thought patterns, trivial intentions and pleasures. I was sleepwalking through life (and doing rather well in school, at that.) There was no semblance of true conciousness. I wasn't aware of myself, who I was, or where I was going.
********* Eventually, though, through a chain of events I am once again not at liberty to discuss, and, in fact, unable to discuss, because I am already pushing the one page bound beyond acceptable limits, I became cognizant of a great many things, including the image of self, and was able to reflect on the kind of shallow jerk I was. This most definitely realigned my perceptions of myself, and consequentially everything thereafter as well. I am yet still young and have a lot of time to err and regret and reflect and reform, so I don't claim to have come to the end of anything; I don't believe people ever really stop changing anyway. But it was definitely a turning point for me, when I uncovered my own black veil and discovered that there was actually a human being dwelling beneath. ¤
Now, WHY did I feel the need to share this with you? Who knows. Who really cares. An honest man speaks his mind, even when it's complete bullshit. I don't profess to being such a person (quite the contrary; and such a being doesn't exist anyway), but it'd be nice.
Before I take off and write til dawn, with gel flakes snowing down on my shoulders, black and baggy eyes, and no knowledge of basic arithmetic, I shall be off. Gnight. | | | Posted 9/30/2004 1:47 AM - 20 views - 0 comments
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