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Name: Claire.
Country: United States
State: Maryland
Metro: Rockville
Birthday: 1/24/1988
Gender: Female
Interests: awkwardness, ballroom dancing, being overdramatic, drawing, finding things, friends, guitar, kissing, knitting, last.fm, masturbation, the metro, music, nudity, putting things in alphabetical order, rambling, ranting, robots, summer, talking to myself, thunderstorms, writing
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Expertise: pretending to be awesome
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  what not to say
Member Since:
10/4/2002
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| It's weird remembering how invisible I was during high school. Not completely invisible, of course, but relatively so, just kind of sliding along the walls to classes, feeling out of place probably eighty percent of the time, no one to eat lunch with and all that jazz. (So overdramatic, I make it sound like I was such a recluse, I mean, I had friends definitely, just wasn't really a part of any specific crowd.) It's funny because I'm still that person but I'm not all that person anymore, if that makes any sense. I mean, I don't know, I'm a lot more comfortable with myself and a lot more comfortable with being social now.
I wish I focused on more important things, but everyone is somewhat trapped by their experience, and as someone who's never experienced anything much worse than winter blues and a horribly itchy rash, I find it hard to grasp beyond the minuscule issues that make up my life. It's funny how only when given that environment where money, food, shelter is not an issue can people start to really engage in philosophical thought. Then again, who am I to say that?
My uncle spent eleven years in a cell without sunlight, with poor nutrition, without much social interaction, but that didn't make him not think about things; it made him a spiritual person. It made him think about things even more. So here I am, even with evidence to the contrary, clinging to my notions of spirituality and philosophy, of higher cognition, as being unnecessary, a luxury afforded only to the upper crust. But perhaps in the human species it is as necessary as food and shelter. This brain is here for some reason; it would make no sense for it to have no relevance to our survival.
I don't think I believe in things as much as I should. I find myself too neutral on topics where most people find it impossible not to take a side. Take God's existence, for example. I can see the evidence on both sides and I can perhaps admit that I find evidence for one side more compelling than the other, but I really don't have a personal opinion, a strong intuition, one way or another, as most other people seem to. I'm not sure if this is a problem, but it certainly strikes me as abnormal. I mean, not having a personal opinion any way on an issue makes it easier to look at the issue objectively, but even on those issues that I do have some intuition on, I am fairly logical and able to see the evidence for the opposite side. I believe that intuition is the source of each individual's moral code; it hits at things somehow so deeply ingrained (whether innate or environmentally influence) in a person that they can't be denied. Not to say that I don't have a moral code because I most certainly do. Perhaps it just encompasses less than those of other people. I feel I make far more decisions based on logic or emotion than based on intuition, even in situations where I maybe should be (or at least, other people would be) making intuitive decisions.
Do I fool myself sometimes, thinking about all these "should"s? Because how can anyone truly determine what anyone else "should" do? Or maybe this is the same as what I was just talking about, maybe "should"s are based on intuition and maybe I don't like "should"s because I don't have enough intuitions about things.
Life is so inherently weird. Always striving for some sort of perfection, but how lost would we be if we ever truly attained it?
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| The anticipation must've been injected into my veins as I slept; it throbs to the tips of my fingers and my toes with every heartbeat. I'm starting to let the word escape through my lips, when I'm half-asleep or surrounded by friends. Summer. I always hype it up like this, but it usually lives up to it so I think it's okay. Spring break will be a taste maybe, an amuse-bouche; just the tiniest bit of sweet vacation on the tip of my tongue to whet my appetite.
And then this summer. This summer, I will go to Morocco. This summer, I will go to New York. This summer, I will be smoked out every day and drunk every night. I will wear dresses and white t-shirts, I will have picnics and take pictures, I will soak up the sunlight like a starved plant. It will be beautiful.
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| Sexuality is probably one of the most interesting aspects of human society, I think. It manifests itself in many different ways in many different societies; it's repressed, it's expressed, people are sluts or prudes or players or maybe just honest. I've always been a sexual person and maybe that's why I've always felt somewhat out of place, especially among my gender. Girls aren't supposed to be sexual.
But this is one of our strongest motivations as a species. Without sexuality, there's no reproduction, and there's no human species. So it makes sense that it exists, of course. But then there's the inevitable question of love because our minds inexplicably link the two (sex and love). Does love exist? Is it somehow part of the evolutionary necessity of the human species? And if yes and no, then why does it exist? Monogamy makes sense even (support for females while pregnant and incapable of full function, raising children during their unusually long childhood period), but love? Does monogamy necessitate love?
It's weird; breaking up made me feel really un-sexual (is asexual the word to use here?). Just not interested. But now it's been a month and suddenly I am masturbating again. Why would that happen even? I mean, clearly there is some link between the physical and the emotional aspects of sex. I just wish I could pinpoint it. It has something to do with the chemicals released in the brain during and after sex, obviously, dopamine and oxytocin and vasopressin. But people have sex without love and love without sex, so there must be something more than that. I feel like I always hit the same dead end with this topic. It's time for me to go to bed.
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| Dreams about a place and time where the sun doesn't go down; maybe I'll go to Barrow, Alaska during the summer solstice, take advantage of the 84 days of sunlight.
Pictures of other people make me feel funny. Like, here's all the fun everyone else is having that I'm missing out on. Which is a little bit ridiculous because I've probably been having just about as much fun as them, and they probably have all the same problems and doubts that I do. They still have break-ups and hangovers, tests and parents, drama and insecurities. I think the problem is that we (I hope it's not just me) always think someone else has it better in one way or another. But sometimes maybe we need to just appreciate what we have.
Maybe I'll get a new camera.
I've realized that I love random adventures, spontaneous decisions and last-minute plans. But I need to become the sort of person that makes those things happen instead of clinging to the people who are already that. I've always been best friends with those people; I love them because they will suddenly come up with a random idea, and they love me because I will always be up for it. And then I'm acting the best friend, the wingman, the sidekick. And it's weird to feel that maybe you're the sidekick in someone else's life instead of just the hero in your own.
I used to be able to pull beauty out of the most random things, to walk down a street and notice little details and to, almost subconsciously, arrange words in my head, flip through my entire mental lexicon in a moment to find the perfect ones to describe everything. And now I don't think I can do that anymore. I think I have to train myself to think like that again, and maybe it's like riding a bike with the muscle memory is still there and simple to retrieve, or maybe it's like learning a second language far past the critical period, when even a month without any studying or exposure means you have to completely re-learn almost everything from scratch. It'd probably be worth it.
I think I will start writing in here regularly again as an exercise. I'm pretty sure no one really reads this anymore, though that's never been a huge factor one way or another because this just is what it is, me getting whatever I need to out, being honest with the world in one way or another, nothing I wouldn't say to anyone who cared enough to ask because I can't really keep secrets.
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| Eight hours isn't enough sleep. I doubt that twelve hours would be enough. Maybe twenty four. Winter always gets endless right around here and I'm trying really hard to believe in something or someone but it just gets more and more difficult. I wonder, is this related to people not being able to believe in me? I feel confined somehow and I should feel free. I want to believe in opportunities.
It's funny, there's my whole life ahead of me; I can't exactly see it but I know it's there. I've pretty much been successful in everything I've attempted, so there's no reason to believe that my life holds anything but success in some manifestation. Yet here I am, two AM, twenty-three degrees outside (that's Fahrenheit, of course), in a dark room feeling as though I am suffocating. There is some sort of disconnect happening here, but how am I supposed to remedy that?
Here's the question. Do I like who I am right now? I don't think this is who I imagined I'd be, but I can't say why. I was never as illusioned as most people; from a fairly young age, I knew that certainly by the time I was in college, I would drink, I would smoke, I would be sexually active, all those things that people never expected themselves to be, those are the things I knew I would be, I was fine with one day being. And I'm pretty and funny and smart and confident and all that shit. But that still doesn't answer my question. I don't know if I can answer it necessarily until I can more accurately pinpoint who I am exactly. Not that I'm going through some sort of identity crisis, just more so that I'm not sure what it is that makes some people love me and some people not. And I guess that's an important part of a person. I mean, is it just the person as a whole, the amalgamation of their various traits? Or is there some sort of consciousness, a soul, the rumored 21 grams we lose upon death? Something to recognize something akin, to give that instantaneous spark, something responsible for "true" connection between people?
I can relax around people, I can enjoy myself and feel comfortable and all that. But I don't know if I can quite give myself up entirely; I've long felt that I'm the only person I can truly trust to take care of myself. But I'm getting pretty effing tired of that. I'm not quite sure if there's another option.
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