Am I too self centered? Am I too immature in what I think? Do I only concern myself with my feelings and problems?
Yes.
........
I have to move on. I have to move on. It's not healthy to hang on to the past, to try and keep people in my mind the way they were when I was happiest. I need to find another way to be happy. Come on. You can do it. Let go. Let go. Let go. You can do it. Just don't think about it, and it will fade out of your memory as it faded out of reality. Make a new life. Make one that was better than that one. Is that possible? It has to be. Otherwise what's the point of anything? You can do it. Come on. Please.
Please.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
The Thoughts of the Still
I can't write with music on. I just learned that, because I tried to write while listening to Arcade Fire, but I couldn't form a cohesive sentence. I don't do that anyway, but I like to think I do.
.........
Numb, my head is, and vomit threatens to rise through my
throat.
If I could only feel the air from my house when I was young,
If I could look out the neglected window with the same ambivalence,
If I could hear my sister coming through the door that she no longer opens,
If I could meet all my friends who have gone away at the church where we used to be blissfully unaware of everything but our feelings,
If I could find the boy who plays tennis and is scared of juniors and likes to laugh and is content with himself and ignores the future and knows not of his days ahead.
If I could go back, I would. Would the happiest time in your life not make you yearn with unquenchable sadness for the days that held it, that fleeting span of life that lasted forever but will never again be seen? Only in the eyes of those who remember does the past still gleam.
.........
I have concluded that deep down, I am sad. I forget about it when activities distract me and life is so quick that I don't have time to evaluate myself. But when I sit still, I find the familiar, stinging sadness about a life that is now lost and the new, foreign life that replaced it. I have been in mourning over the death of my previous life for two years. And I don't know how to move on. How do you move on? Do you let go? Let go of all the friends, all the memories, all the places that once were the center of your happiness?
My happiness was rooted in something that no longer exists. That is why I am sad. I haven't found something else in which I can derive my joy. My upbringing keeps screaming at me that God is the only place one should rely on for happiness. But I instantly reject that notion, out of habit, because it is too cliche for me to try. I assume it might be true, but I irrationally run from it because I want to find happiness on my own, whether it be in God or something else. I want to find God because I found him, not because my parents walked me to His front door. I want to have a reason to love Him. Right now, I don't, at least, not one that I can found a relationship on. Maybe the fact that I live in America, the richest nation in the world, should make me thankful enough to love God; or, maybe that I was raised in a loving home with parents who worked on their marriage and stuck with it; any of those reasons should be enough--but for some reason, they don't work for me. I'm a selfish, narcissistic child, I know, but those reasons don't motivate me to love God. I hate it, but they don't.
.........
Numb, my head is, and vomit threatens to rise through my
throat.
If I could only feel the air from my house when I was young,
If I could look out the neglected window with the same ambivalence,
If I could hear my sister coming through the door that she no longer opens,
If I could meet all my friends who have gone away at the church where we used to be blissfully unaware of everything but our feelings,
If I could find the boy who plays tennis and is scared of juniors and likes to laugh and is content with himself and ignores the future and knows not of his days ahead.
If I could go back, I would. Would the happiest time in your life not make you yearn with unquenchable sadness for the days that held it, that fleeting span of life that lasted forever but will never again be seen? Only in the eyes of those who remember does the past still gleam.
.........
I have concluded that deep down, I am sad. I forget about it when activities distract me and life is so quick that I don't have time to evaluate myself. But when I sit still, I find the familiar, stinging sadness about a life that is now lost and the new, foreign life that replaced it. I have been in mourning over the death of my previous life for two years. And I don't know how to move on. How do you move on? Do you let go? Let go of all the friends, all the memories, all the places that once were the center of your happiness?
My happiness was rooted in something that no longer exists. That is why I am sad. I haven't found something else in which I can derive my joy. My upbringing keeps screaming at me that God is the only place one should rely on for happiness. But I instantly reject that notion, out of habit, because it is too cliche for me to try. I assume it might be true, but I irrationally run from it because I want to find happiness on my own, whether it be in God or something else. I want to find God because I found him, not because my parents walked me to His front door. I want to have a reason to love Him. Right now, I don't, at least, not one that I can found a relationship on. Maybe the fact that I live in America, the richest nation in the world, should make me thankful enough to love God; or, maybe that I was raised in a loving home with parents who worked on their marriage and stuck with it; any of those reasons should be enough--but for some reason, they don't work for me. I'm a selfish, narcissistic child, I know, but those reasons don't motivate me to love God. I hate it, but they don't.
A Coffee House and Identity
Today I went to Monks and listened to a guy play his electric guitar for an audience of about 15. The atmosphere was casual and chill, with the scattered couches, tables, and chairs all around the shop. The guy working the counter would periodically go sit at a table with a girl. Very chill.
The guitarist was better than the average player, but he was an excellent song writer. At the end of his set, he played two original songs, and, while I can only vividly remember one of them, they were really good. The song I can remember talks about the singer as he struggles with his relationship with God and his relationship with a girlfriend/wife/lover. The song hinges around the chorus as he sings that "if I were precious cargo, you would have cradled my head." Sorrow and regret filled the room at the end of the song as the singer stepped away from the mike and just sang the end at the top of his lungs, sort of off key but not caring, because the words were so powerful that they had to be said, and they had to be said that way. I wondered how I could get my hands on a copy of that song, how I could possess it, but then I realized that I was focusing more on obtaining the song than enjoying it. So I decided to let the song play in my memory of the night, like an uncultivated horse, running free over the hills and valleys of my mind.
Mihir had come to hear the concert, but his night was interrupted when he met a homeless man on the street who talked his ear off, and later mine as well. Although he told me, I cannot remember his name (I think it was something like Maximus). He told us about his life, in detail, and Mihir came to the conclusion that homeless people talk to themselves because no one else is willing to listen. When someone actually does listen, then (at least for Maximus) it's like Christmas. Mihir bought him several water bottles, and we talked with him for about 20 minutes. As we walked away, I wondered if that was enough, if we could have done more for him. But that was all we could do, at least right then.
Mihir and I hung out the rest of the night. We were sitting on the curb by the Paramount, and a movie had just gotten out, so all the cars were leaving and subsequently stopping at the stop sign right in front of us. I get nervous when people stop because I'm scared they'll yell at me or throw something. Mihir said that wasn't normal. I concluded that I cared too much about what others think of me. Mihir said the only way to overcome that is to "not give a shit," he said as he closed his car door and drove away. Is that really it? You don't care what other people think at all?
It's worth a shot. Cuz I'm tired of caring what everyone thinks, all the time.
I really do that. I depend on what the people in the car next to me could possibly be thinking. I care what everyone thinks. And it's infuriating. I can't be who I want to be because I'm too worried that it will not be liked by someone. Fuck that. I need to be who I want to be, and the people who like him are the people worth caring about.
I realize all this "be who you want to be" talk sounds like a Disney channel song, like an immature teenager trying to be an individual. Well, that's kind of what it is, minus Walt. I am an immature teenager trying to be an individual. So what?
Trying to find out who I am is really difficult.
The guitarist was better than the average player, but he was an excellent song writer. At the end of his set, he played two original songs, and, while I can only vividly remember one of them, they were really good. The song I can remember talks about the singer as he struggles with his relationship with God and his relationship with a girlfriend/wife/lover. The song hinges around the chorus as he sings that "if I were precious cargo, you would have cradled my head." Sorrow and regret filled the room at the end of the song as the singer stepped away from the mike and just sang the end at the top of his lungs, sort of off key but not caring, because the words were so powerful that they had to be said, and they had to be said that way. I wondered how I could get my hands on a copy of that song, how I could possess it, but then I realized that I was focusing more on obtaining the song than enjoying it. So I decided to let the song play in my memory of the night, like an uncultivated horse, running free over the hills and valleys of my mind.
Mihir had come to hear the concert, but his night was interrupted when he met a homeless man on the street who talked his ear off, and later mine as well. Although he told me, I cannot remember his name (I think it was something like Maximus). He told us about his life, in detail, and Mihir came to the conclusion that homeless people talk to themselves because no one else is willing to listen. When someone actually does listen, then (at least for Maximus) it's like Christmas. Mihir bought him several water bottles, and we talked with him for about 20 minutes. As we walked away, I wondered if that was enough, if we could have done more for him. But that was all we could do, at least right then.
Mihir and I hung out the rest of the night. We were sitting on the curb by the Paramount, and a movie had just gotten out, so all the cars were leaving and subsequently stopping at the stop sign right in front of us. I get nervous when people stop because I'm scared they'll yell at me or throw something. Mihir said that wasn't normal. I concluded that I cared too much about what others think of me. Mihir said the only way to overcome that is to "not give a shit," he said as he closed his car door and drove away. Is that really it? You don't care what other people think at all?
It's worth a shot. Cuz I'm tired of caring what everyone thinks, all the time.
I really do that. I depend on what the people in the car next to me could possibly be thinking. I care what everyone thinks. And it's infuriating. I can't be who I want to be because I'm too worried that it will not be liked by someone. Fuck that. I need to be who I want to be, and the people who like him are the people worth caring about.
I realize all this "be who you want to be" talk sounds like a Disney channel song, like an immature teenager trying to be an individual. Well, that's kind of what it is, minus Walt. I am an immature teenager trying to be an individual. So what?
Trying to find out who I am is really difficult.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Rekindled Pain
I got on my sister's facebook today to look around at people I care about. Stupid decision.
You are the reason I don't have a facebook.
It hurts too much to see you and know that you're okay with how we are now. I didn't think it would hurt, but it still does.
You are the reason I don't have a facebook.
It hurts too much to see you and know that you're okay with how we are now. I didn't think it would hurt, but it still does.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Rambling
Writing is my solace. Whenever I feel uncomfortable or anxious or unsure, I write and feel better.
But now, in the words of Julian Casablancas, "I got nothing to say."
..........
I heard a song today that made me embarrassed for the artist. I'm sure anyone who knows pop culture could immediately tell who the artist is, but I don't know and don't care to look it up. Part of the song says "I want to be a billionaire, so freaking bad." That alone made me chuckle in shame. The rest of the song goes on to tell what the singer is going to do when he gets rich, from playing basketball with the president to being on the cover of Forbes with Oprah and the Queen. When reflecting on this, I remember hearing a similar song that has the lyrics "oh I just can't wait to be king."
Yup, the Lion King.
The song says the same thing a Disney movie did about a talking lion.
The problem with the popular rap song is that it is supposed to be a popular rap song, but he ends up just communicating that he wants money SO MUCH, and that he will do all these cool things when he gets it. It's stupid. I really can't think of another word for it. This guy is just saying that he wants money and what he will do with it. That's it. And people eat that shit up. I really don't understand it. It's not even catchy--it's annoying. It even sounds vaguely like ska. Hows that for street cred?
I do understand the draw for some popular music (the catchy beats and lyrics), but this song has neither. It makes me feel sorry for all the people my age who listen to it and find pleasure in it. There should be none gained from that song.
But now, in the words of Julian Casablancas, "I got nothing to say."
..........
I heard a song today that made me embarrassed for the artist. I'm sure anyone who knows pop culture could immediately tell who the artist is, but I don't know and don't care to look it up. Part of the song says "I want to be a billionaire, so freaking bad." That alone made me chuckle in shame. The rest of the song goes on to tell what the singer is going to do when he gets rich, from playing basketball with the president to being on the cover of Forbes with Oprah and the Queen. When reflecting on this, I remember hearing a similar song that has the lyrics "oh I just can't wait to be king."
Yup, the Lion King.
The song says the same thing a Disney movie did about a talking lion.
The problem with the popular rap song is that it is supposed to be a popular rap song, but he ends up just communicating that he wants money SO MUCH, and that he will do all these cool things when he gets it. It's stupid. I really can't think of another word for it. This guy is just saying that he wants money and what he will do with it. That's it. And people eat that shit up. I really don't understand it. It's not even catchy--it's annoying. It even sounds vaguely like ska. Hows that for street cred?
I do understand the draw for some popular music (the catchy beats and lyrics), but this song has neither. It makes me feel sorry for all the people my age who listen to it and find pleasure in it. There should be none gained from that song.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Genesis 1-2:2
I feel content, lacking anxiety or discomfort concerning relationships, at the moment. I assume that is because of God--I don't know why, I just give credit to Him. Therefore, I feel like I should do something to show my thanks, so I prayed and read chapters 1 and the beginning of 2 in Genesis. I haven't done this in a while, both praying and reading the Bible. I had trouble praying, because I didn't know what to think about when I prayed. I didn't want to just send my prayers into the sky, I wanted something concrete to think of in my mind to direct my prayers towards. So I tried to imagine a person (Jesus) sitting on the edge of my bed. The real Jesus, not American Jesus; so, I started thinking about a middle eastern looking person, but I kept picturing Mihir, which I found humorous. Eventually I just gave up trying to think of what to think about and just prayed. From what I've heard about God, I think He's fine with that.
During my reading of the first several chapters of Genesis, I had some questions. First, it depicts God creating. Why did He create? What had he been doing before He created (I doubt we can know the answer to that, but I still need to ask)? And most importantly, what did God gain from creating? How did He benefit?
Secondly, it says in verse 26 that God said he wanted to "Make humankind in our image, according to our likeness." What does it mean to be in the image of God, to be his likeness? All we know about God so far is that he creates, he can tell a difference between "good" and something else, and that there is more than one part of God. Does it mean we have traits like Him, that we posses something that He does?
Then, in verse 28, He tells man to "subdue the earth." How does one subdue the earth? The definitions of subdue essentially say that one takes something that is existing in a way that is different than the captor/possessor/keeper/whatever and makes it like itself (itself being the captor...whatever thing).
Finally, in the second verse of the second chapter, it says that God rested. Why does He have to rest? Does God get tired? "You are the everlasting God/you do not faint, you won't grow weary"--not according to this, Chris Tomlin! I guess one would have to ask, what does it mean to rest? Does it mean sleep, or just sit there, or go run a marathon, or talk to someone?
I just read the Bible and I have a lot of questions, but I don't feel like I learned anything or gained any knowledge. I don't feel like I'm any closer to figuring anything out. But I don't feel bad. Strangely, I feel content. Maybe it's numbness or indifference. I can't tell.
During my reading of the first several chapters of Genesis, I had some questions. First, it depicts God creating. Why did He create? What had he been doing before He created (I doubt we can know the answer to that, but I still need to ask)? And most importantly, what did God gain from creating? How did He benefit?
Secondly, it says in verse 26 that God said he wanted to "Make humankind in our image, according to our likeness." What does it mean to be in the image of God, to be his likeness? All we know about God so far is that he creates, he can tell a difference between "good" and something else, and that there is more than one part of God. Does it mean we have traits like Him, that we posses something that He does?
Then, in verse 28, He tells man to "subdue the earth." How does one subdue the earth? The definitions of subdue essentially say that one takes something that is existing in a way that is different than the captor/possessor/keeper/whatever and makes it like itself (itself being the captor...whatever thing).
Finally, in the second verse of the second chapter, it says that God rested. Why does He have to rest? Does God get tired? "You are the everlasting God/you do not faint, you won't grow weary"--not according to this, Chris Tomlin! I guess one would have to ask, what does it mean to rest? Does it mean sleep, or just sit there, or go run a marathon, or talk to someone?
I just read the Bible and I have a lot of questions, but I don't feel like I learned anything or gained any knowledge. I don't feel like I'm any closer to figuring anything out. But I don't feel bad. Strangely, I feel content. Maybe it's numbness or indifference. I can't tell.
What Are Friends?
Why are people friends with one another? I'm talking about good friends, like Drew and Jake and Amanda. What is it about us that makes us want to hang out with each other whenever, where ever?
I ask this because I realize I don't do very much. I don't play video games, I don't like sports, I don't listen to generic music, and here, in the first week of college, it seems like those are the only things that people do. Why do I have friends?
I assume it's because the people I'm closest to found something in me, and I in them, that has nothing to do with what we do, but instead, who we are. However, I don't fully understand this. Why can I go to Drew's cottage for a week and feel completely comfortable, whereas I can't hold many conversations here for more than three minutes? Is it because Drew and I had classes in school together, and played basketball on the same team? I did that with other guys and I'm not good friends with them. Why are close friends close? What makes up that common, strong bond that holds people to each other?
I could see myself getting involved in service, like projects and stuff, because I think the people there are the type of people I would want to know. Those who go to service projects because they want to aren't usually superficial. They are kind, and they care about others. But would I just be using service as a way to feel loved?
Essentially, that's what everyone is looking for, a place where they can feel completely loved. Maybe bros find it in the community they gain through video games, sports, and rap music. Maybe some girls find it in looking pretty and going shopping and the people they meet along the way. But for me, someone who doesn't really do anything, where can I find love?
There is a feeling of peace when I'm with my close friends. We don't have to struggle to come up with things to talk about. And even if we can't find things to talk about, we can just be quiet, still with each other.
I guess my problem is that I am looking for the deep kind of relationship in the first week. I'm grasping, groping, longing for someone to cling to, someone who will love me even when I don't do anything interesting. Should I stop doing that? Should I stop searching for lifelong friends and try to enjoy the shallow, fleeting friendships I make with people? But those friendships are founded on what you do (what movies you watch, what happens in pop culture, what is funny, etc), and if I don't know what the latest song playing on KISS FM is, how can I engage in those friendships that are based on that type of thing?
I think too much.
I ask this because I realize I don't do very much. I don't play video games, I don't like sports, I don't listen to generic music, and here, in the first week of college, it seems like those are the only things that people do. Why do I have friends?
I assume it's because the people I'm closest to found something in me, and I in them, that has nothing to do with what we do, but instead, who we are. However, I don't fully understand this. Why can I go to Drew's cottage for a week and feel completely comfortable, whereas I can't hold many conversations here for more than three minutes? Is it because Drew and I had classes in school together, and played basketball on the same team? I did that with other guys and I'm not good friends with them. Why are close friends close? What makes up that common, strong bond that holds people to each other?
I could see myself getting involved in service, like projects and stuff, because I think the people there are the type of people I would want to know. Those who go to service projects because they want to aren't usually superficial. They are kind, and they care about others. But would I just be using service as a way to feel loved?
Essentially, that's what everyone is looking for, a place where they can feel completely loved. Maybe bros find it in the community they gain through video games, sports, and rap music. Maybe some girls find it in looking pretty and going shopping and the people they meet along the way. But for me, someone who doesn't really do anything, where can I find love?
There is a feeling of peace when I'm with my close friends. We don't have to struggle to come up with things to talk about. And even if we can't find things to talk about, we can just be quiet, still with each other.
I guess my problem is that I am looking for the deep kind of relationship in the first week. I'm grasping, groping, longing for someone to cling to, someone who will love me even when I don't do anything interesting. Should I stop doing that? Should I stop searching for lifelong friends and try to enjoy the shallow, fleeting friendships I make with people? But those friendships are founded on what you do (what movies you watch, what happens in pop culture, what is funny, etc), and if I don't know what the latest song playing on KISS FM is, how can I engage in those friendships that are based on that type of thing?
I think too much.
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