Dear Ajé:
I deleted my facebook about five minutes ago. I think I may already feel more human than I did earlier today. Or possibly less human depending on how you look at it.
Sometimes it feels that no matter what I do, I lose sight of myself. But what exactly is this self I’m trying to keep sight of?
I suppose it’s time for me to introduce you to yourself. You love people but are easily over stimulated. So often you present yourself as angry or sad and when people try to look deeper into this it only reproduces the cycle, because inquiring creates more stimuli.
You are a game that I can’t win.
And I try to beat you everyday. I want to make you my slave; cater to everything in me that feels good at any time. My efforts to contain you only make me a prisoner within myself. And all I really know how to do is prance around how I really feel.
Sometimes I just want to bitch like crazy. I’m trying so hard to find the positive in things. Not to reproduce negative energy with negative words or thoughts. Trying to not hold things against people because I really do believe that nothing is personal. We are all products of our environment, but we are all products of choice as well. To a certain extent we have no control over how we feel about anything. But there comes a time where we have to take responsibility for ourselves, for our emotions, and for our actions. I try to live my life as though just the thought ‘I am happy’ is enough to get me through each day, because I really do believe that thoughts become things. But only to a certain extent. I mean, I can’t think “I will win the lottery” and expect to actually win just because I thought that. That’s a ridiculous concept.
I think I’m just angry. Because I no longer feel that I have the right to blame others for my feelings. And because of this I don’t believe in making people feel guilty for their comments/behaviors. But sometimes the things people do/say is absolutely infuriating! How am I to find balance in these situations? I am hoping that I will learn the answer to this question, though I fear the answer is something similar to mere tolerance and I am not fond of that answer.
I’m starting to care about what people think again, and I hate that. It’s silly. But people see me and come up with all of these ideas based on stereotypes or one-time experiences. I am rarely what people see and I always feel like I have to explain this to folks. It’s draining and it scares me in an ‘I feel judged’ way. I also really hate it when people make comments about my eccentricity. People will tell me I’m “so brave” because I can dye my hair to match the new box of neon Crayola’s, or because I wear clothes that don’t match, or because I wear makeup that takes up half of my face. I wake up, I feel an urge, I follow. I am not special. I am not brave. I am simply following my impulses. Some people have an automatic desire to wear sweater vests and ties every day. Some people have an automatic desire to wear skirts every day. Some people are automatically different every day.
But folks make a big deal out of anything that’s not mainstream. Mainstream has never appealed to me. That’s why I don’t fit into that category. But none of us really fit into categories.
I don’t get it either.
I suppose this rampage has gone on long enough. I’m a little drunk. A little annoyed. Somewhat depressed and utterly confused. But I’m hoping that despite all that, I’ll be able to stop giving a fuck what anyone says about anything.
Love,
Yourself
P.S. My new goal for the week is to learn how to say “What’s it to you?” and “None of your business.” without caring if someone thinks I’m the biggest cunt of all time.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
good lord, it's people
Dear Ajé:
I find technology to be quite upsetting. I admit that I have fallen victim to it's cunning a time or two, and I am disgusted by myself and my inability to save myself from this atrocity.
My head spins and I feel nauseous.
My grandfather who is eighty-five years old recently went to the hospital to discover that his pace maker was not working at it's full capacity. They had to send some sort of device through his urethra in order to fix this problem and make his pace maker function like a Real Life Heart. I find this to be utterly ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, I love my gramps, but he's eighty-fucking-five years old. You're heart is supposed to fail when you're that age. Our bodies just give out on us after so long. It's nature. It's really not that big of a deal. Worth mourning, yes, but inevitable. We were not created to cheat nature, and we will never fully do so. What is there to do with one's life when they're eighty-five anyway? Adventurous traveling? Romantic sexcapade getaways? I suppose there are those rare circumstances where older folks have the health of a child, but realistically we're all just going to be worn down and bored by then, if we're still alive at all.
And all of this over-population. Ugh. Women need to be sterilized after their third child. It would really help. I think it's fantastic that nowadays women/babies are less likely to die during childbirth than they used to be, but we're running out of space and supplies. We are animals. Survival of the fittest has worked since the dawn of creation. It is even true of our planets. If two planets/stars/moons get too close to one another the one with stronger gravity will destroy the other. We're putting premature babies in incubators and fake hearts in old people. It's expensive and unnatural and I'm incredibly annoyed by how much it all bothers me.
I know that if this world was still build on the motto of 'whoever is most fit shall survive' that my family would have been wiped out by now. I come from a line of decent, mostly hard-working people, but we're not rich and were not overly skilled and my family line probably would have disappeared a few generations ago.
How many families would have been wiped out in the last 30 years if it wasn't for government assistance? It's crazy to think about.
I also don't understand people freaking out about the end of their family line, or the end of human existence. Who cares. You don't see the Dinosaurs making a big fuss about it. If it's meant to happen, it will happen and we cannot stop it. The Universe is superior to man and it will have the final word. Our species is merely an organ of this planet and our planet is merely an organ of this galaxy, and this galaxy is merely an organ in a greater Universe. So who are we kidding, we don't really have that much to say about the grand scheme of things.
But what really gets me is how difficult it can be to have opinions that aren't mainstream. How people constantly feel that they are owed explanations for things that don't directly concern them. I believe that part of the reason I felt so crazy during much of my youth is because I was the only person I knew that wasn't completely brainwashed by this idea of incorrect, mindless blame. I still remember being in ninth grade and having my group of friends turn on me because Jessika had swallowed a bottle of ibuprofen. It was 'my fault' she did it because I was upset at her for hitting on my crush and was taking a few days to calm down before brushing it off. (It was just a boy, but it still hurt.) But I wasn't there when she took the pills. I didn't suggest it. I didn't shove them down her throat. And I seemed to be the only person who realized that suicide was a personal choice, regardless of whether or not it was well thought out.
I think I may have always known that how we feel - how we view the world - is a personal choice, but I had no language to express this during my youth and now I am having a difficult time living it as an adult. I just know that blame does nothing but poison our own hearts and that I often respond to things in a way that contradicts my soul.
It's hard to follow the path that speaks to you. But I guess that just means to try harder.
These irritations also make me nervous about the day I'm trapped in a small space during Armageddon and people are freaking out and turning on each other over the dumbest things.
We live in a scary world.
Oh well.
Love,
Yourself
I find technology to be quite upsetting. I admit that I have fallen victim to it's cunning a time or two, and I am disgusted by myself and my inability to save myself from this atrocity.
My head spins and I feel nauseous.
My grandfather who is eighty-five years old recently went to the hospital to discover that his pace maker was not working at it's full capacity. They had to send some sort of device through his urethra in order to fix this problem and make his pace maker function like a Real Life Heart. I find this to be utterly ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, I love my gramps, but he's eighty-fucking-five years old. You're heart is supposed to fail when you're that age. Our bodies just give out on us after so long. It's nature. It's really not that big of a deal. Worth mourning, yes, but inevitable. We were not created to cheat nature, and we will never fully do so. What is there to do with one's life when they're eighty-five anyway? Adventurous traveling? Romantic sexcapade getaways? I suppose there are those rare circumstances where older folks have the health of a child, but realistically we're all just going to be worn down and bored by then, if we're still alive at all.
And all of this over-population. Ugh. Women need to be sterilized after their third child. It would really help. I think it's fantastic that nowadays women/babies are less likely to die during childbirth than they used to be, but we're running out of space and supplies. We are animals. Survival of the fittest has worked since the dawn of creation. It is even true of our planets. If two planets/stars/moons get too close to one another the one with stronger gravity will destroy the other. We're putting premature babies in incubators and fake hearts in old people. It's expensive and unnatural and I'm incredibly annoyed by how much it all bothers me.
I know that if this world was still build on the motto of 'whoever is most fit shall survive' that my family would have been wiped out by now. I come from a line of decent, mostly hard-working people, but we're not rich and were not overly skilled and my family line probably would have disappeared a few generations ago.
How many families would have been wiped out in the last 30 years if it wasn't for government assistance? It's crazy to think about.
I also don't understand people freaking out about the end of their family line, or the end of human existence. Who cares. You don't see the Dinosaurs making a big fuss about it. If it's meant to happen, it will happen and we cannot stop it. The Universe is superior to man and it will have the final word. Our species is merely an organ of this planet and our planet is merely an organ of this galaxy, and this galaxy is merely an organ in a greater Universe. So who are we kidding, we don't really have that much to say about the grand scheme of things.
But what really gets me is how difficult it can be to have opinions that aren't mainstream. How people constantly feel that they are owed explanations for things that don't directly concern them. I believe that part of the reason I felt so crazy during much of my youth is because I was the only person I knew that wasn't completely brainwashed by this idea of incorrect, mindless blame. I still remember being in ninth grade and having my group of friends turn on me because Jessika had swallowed a bottle of ibuprofen. It was 'my fault' she did it because I was upset at her for hitting on my crush and was taking a few days to calm down before brushing it off. (It was just a boy, but it still hurt.) But I wasn't there when she took the pills. I didn't suggest it. I didn't shove them down her throat. And I seemed to be the only person who realized that suicide was a personal choice, regardless of whether or not it was well thought out.
I think I may have always known that how we feel - how we view the world - is a personal choice, but I had no language to express this during my youth and now I am having a difficult time living it as an adult. I just know that blame does nothing but poison our own hearts and that I often respond to things in a way that contradicts my soul.
It's hard to follow the path that speaks to you. But I guess that just means to try harder.
These irritations also make me nervous about the day I'm trapped in a small space during Armageddon and people are freaking out and turning on each other over the dumbest things.
We live in a scary world.
Oh well.
Love,
Yourself
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