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I'm about to leave, yet again. I feel like that's all I do these days. I get up, eat when I have a chance, work and then sleep for the miniscule amount of time that I have to sleep. I suppose, in many ways, that it's my choice to leave and to be places - I am the one that takes myself there, right? But at the same time, I guess I'm drawn to being there. People can say that they miss me and want to see me, and I'll give in because I feel guilty if I don't go. I feel that's a problem that I have with people these days. I don't want to feel bad by telling them no, and I don't want to feel bad by telling them how I really feel- but at the same I do feel bad. I feel bad telling them that I can't see them, and that I'm busy, or that I have different plans. I feel bad not being there for them, even though in many cases, I'm usually the one putting in the eighty percent of the friendship. Brooke always said to be more selfish about life, and I know in one of my previous entries I said that I was going to start to. Yet, I feel very tied down, very obligated to things that I don't want to be obligated to. I don't understand why life has all the obligations. I almost feel like people have obligations for each other- for calling each other, for hanging out, for being nice. I wonder if these obligations, something that seems so inherent is really the person actually being true to themselves and genuine, or really a front. I worry that sometimes people put a front on for me- that they're nice to get something they want out of the friendship. On the other hand, what is genuine? Is a person sincerely genuine? I feel that I'm at least seventy-five percent genuine. That's a lot in my opinion. I tell the truth, keep to my opinions, am reliable, and caring. The other fifteen percent is probably me covering my flaws. There's so much that I want out of the world. Not necessarily material things, I don't consider myself that materialistic of a person. I don't have to have certain things, certain brands to make me happy. If I want something, I'll earn it. I don't want to be given it. I'm grateful that my parents are willing to give me things, but at the same time indebted to repay them in some sort of way. I think the number one thing that I need in life is probably love. In all fashions. Maybe that's what I feel that I'm lacking. At least Jake seems to think that I feel like I'm not loved, and maybe he's right. I guess the deep truth of the matter is that I've grown up to be a hopeless romantic. I've grown up reading Fitzgerald, and enjoyed movies like Casablanca and A Streetcar Named Desire and have loved them. I've idolized people like Princess Diana, a woman who was constantly in search of love and appreciation. I guess more or less, I'm waiting for my fairy tale ending. I don't necessarily believe that it's going to be an ending, I don't think there's an end to anything. I understand that we die, but I think our memory lives on, so why not a fairy tale beginning? "Part of what we long for in our wish for a soul mate is intimacy with and the expression of our own soul." I worry that if I look too ahead in life, I'll miss what's in front of me. Yet, if I don't look ahead, I feel like I'm going to have an anxiety attack. Does this mean I don't trust myself? I'm sure I do, but I've also deceived myself. Is this possible? I feel like I should be enjoying the simple things in life. I know what one person perceives as simple is not what another person may think, but at the same time, that's life. I don't think there's an issue that I can not question, and not find a reason to like a certain answer. The only certainty I have is science, and what I can see and comprehend. I understand the pure science of the heart, it's structure, how blood moves through vessels and arteries, how it pumps and keeps us breathing. But at the same time, I question the deep essence of the heart- the soul. I don't think scientists, or philosophers for that matter, will ever find a clear definition of the soul because it's something that is too deep. I can't help but look at the future- memory is kind of like poetry- it frames and shapes who we are today, and if you don't look at it, we lose shape of who we really are. It has to penetrate the consciousness, or else the soul will just need more repairing later on. Contemplatively remembering the past nurtures the soul. On that note, I'm happy with not understanding things. It keeps me wondering, keeps me in awe, and keeps me living. I enjoy asking questions, arguing my point, but at the same time respecting the points and values of others'. In general, things happen without the intention to make them happen. Knowing that, the only way to live simply is to give up the ego and satisfaction of feeling in control and just dealing with the plain fact that you're not in control. It's pure. Yet, at the same time- we live simply, but we are complicated. I think if I would simplify my exterior, limit my activities, limit work, it would only complicate my interior. I mean, if you look at Thoreau when he lived on Walden Pond- he had the bare necessities, but at the same time was so complicated in his inside. Did he even know himself? Does anyone know themselves? I do know, however, that I'm not perfect. And that's just a crack in my interior as well as exterior walls, walls that everyone puts up. These cracks are just entries for the outside world to go in, and penetrate and make it's mark. I'm a dreamer, but I allow others to come in. This is probably just a mess and ramble of words- I've become quite philisophical today, and I'm beginning to wonder if philosophy is a better major. Just kidding. :) Maybe it's too abstract, but I'm sure I will generalize the ideas that I've typed a bit more at some point. I guess that's what you'll get at one in the morning, when the lightening is bright, and heavy, and I'm worried about losing power because it's inevitable during lightening storms. I'm off to sleep and study. Au revoir. Post a comment in response: |
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