Knowledge isn't everything, but sleep might be.
I think I just failed a quiz in one of my classes. I'm starting to see the effects of lack of sleep and high stress. I don't remember things when the time comes to recall them. My brain freezes up.
I may be capable of reading well and comprehending. I may even be able to discuss what I read with some sense of insight. But when it comes time for testing, I botch all my efforts. I'm spread very thin, all of my efforts have been half-a'd. Instead of doing quality work on anything I do 50% work on everything. I'm really worried about how my grades are going to turn out this semester, and it's somewhat silly because it isn't the complexity that is killing me, it's the workload. This by far has been my worst workload. I thought my other workloads were worse, but I literally have no time to sit. I shouldn't even be writing this, I should be studying and working on the next thing.
Instead of sleeping I relieve stress. Instead of revising and improving, I relieve stress. I just don't have time for anything fun and because I don't do anything fun it makes the stress worse.
What I wouldn't kill for some hard labor!
My body is weakening daily, I looked in the mirror and I'm no longer toned in any way. It's like all my muscles disappeared. It's definitely not good. And I keep telling myself that I just need to survive a little bit longer and that over the next rise will be relief. I don't have relief though. There are no reinforcements, just more things piling up.
I'm at the cutting point. I need to decide what I can cut from my schedule. I'm accidentally cutting people from it, but I don't want to--I don't mean to end friendships, I mean to return to them when things clear up for me, though I'm not sure when that will be.
I definitely don't want to cut any classes--not since I've come this far.
I've already cut the film making--I WILL return to it in December when the semester is over, but no sooner.
I may be cutting my dating services. A shame too since I have so much to write still.
I may be postponing my new blog--which is a bummer, but necessary.
And I've already cut my business propositions.--no time.
I'm cutting social media--no more twitter, no more facebook, and I'm limiting my blogging.
I may be cutting phonecalls from people.
I'm really stressed and I must simply say that even if you learn many things, if you don't sleep, it isn't going to help you any to cram your brain with information...you'll forget it later. I know, I did anyway.
And if you don't relax any, you'll constantly live in fear that you never get a break. I know, I do. I feel antsy when i sit down to take a rest.
I'm getting sloppier and sloppier.
I don't even know how this article releates to this blog, but I'm going to post it anyway.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
New Blog
I'm thinking of launching a new blog--different topic of course (Anyone who has just one blog for everything obviously doesn't understand the writing world)
Though...I must admit that I sometimes blend my writing and it's a nasty habit (I write dating stuff on here when I should focus solely on rhetoric, for instance.)
So I want to start up a blog for writing of short works of fiction and other new ventures.
I'm also in the process of withdrawing from facebook...it's a tactical move.
You've probably read my post about facebook before. I've already had problems with it and felt like I HAD to use facebook for various things. But now I realize that I don't have to do anything I don't want to.
http://cynicalwarrior.wordpress.com/
Friday, October 21, 2011
Vacanze, Itallian for relax
I am on vacation.
I deserve this vacation.
I returned to my parents' home for the weekend, and will be attending my twin nieces' first birthday party.
It's 1 am.
I'm sitting in the kitchen with my mother, we casually chat, and it almost feels like we're in an office together. Her laptop is set up and I'm on her spare laptop--she's doing work, and I'm slacking off.
I can't sleep at nights.
I stay awake at night half wanting to stay up so that I can get some work done and feel those feelings of tiredness, and half wanting to sleep so badly so that I can have that refreshed feeling in the morning.
Now that I have a vacation I think I'll have both of my guilty pleasures at once: stay up late just because I can, sleep in late just so I can have that refreshed feeling. It feels good to so something you can't normally do--taking advantage of priceless opportunities is a grand experience.
This blog is about a few different things, and I feel as though I would like to go back through and re-read some of the things I explored on here.
Originally, I had in mind to use this blog to test out a theme that I had in my head of "how we know what we know" and that "we don't 'know' anything, it's all subjective, it's all based on assumptions about the way life works." We can come to "know" things, but when we look at the root foundation of that truth, we discover that all we know is that if "ideal" situations existed (the ones that we THINK are reality) then yes, what we know would be true. But because there are no "ideal" situations, we can't ever FULLY know anything.--This concept gets really deep and confusing, but if you apply the same learning processes to believe that what I say is real, then it will all make perfect sense (as much sense as anything else).
The best way I can explain this is to use this example: When you drop something, it falls. When you drop something in outter space, does it fall? --it doesn't appear to be falling, does it? It appears to be floating, yes? Well we come to find out that it IS falling. The whole universe is moving and what we know as "the lack of gravity" is really the existence of gravity applied in a much larger scale. If all you knew was that in outer space things don't fall, they float, you would be correct, yes. But at the same time you would be false (when you get into technicalities). That's what I wanted to explore on this blog, that what we know about anything is really not what we know, and although it might have SOME truth to it, it's not the FULL truth.
That little example is where the title of this blog came from actually.
Secretly, I also touch on a brief theme every now and again that is a pun on the title of this blog as well: when a person falls, there are typically reactions, there are typically cause and effect relationships to everything. We discover that a person's life is more impactful than we originally suspect. I've been affected by everyone I met, whether I liked that person or not, I was shaped by it. And I've seen people go downhill. I've seen people at the end of their lives--lives full of excitement and apparent grandeur, yet these people have lapsed into alsheimers (sp?) or some other mental illness that diminishes their previous life.
It's all very interesting. But it has a tone of sadness too. I've seen others who have taken more steep dives--drops from having great respect to having very little respect from those around them. These are people who are great leaders--you don't become great without having leadership ability. I think the mere fact that great people do it is a sign that anyone can fall, and hopefully they will catch themselves before anything serious occurs, but still, people fall from grace, fall from life, fall from whatever.
I also purposely write these late at night right before my bedtime--most of them--and in a sense the title also comes from when I fall asleep. A lot of the time that I'm awake I don't know if I'm awake or asleep, I merely know that it is late and that I am still being active. I have a go-to-bed ritual that helps me distinguish time, but I shudder to think what would happen if I ever did that ritual and then went about doing something. I might really fall asleep doing something--speaking of which, my mother just about hit her head on her laptop...I'm watching her nod off and arise again. --I've never done that, but by the time I reach her age I might just do it...of course, by the time I'm finished with university I intend on getting on a real schedule and quit staying up at nights. I've seen my mother drop actually...there are times when her late night behaviors don't help her in may ways, and I dont' want to be that way. Sleep is a good thing.
I have to make a confession now before it's too late...
I'm purposely sloppy in writing this blog. I have other, more professional places where I strive for perfection in my writing--where every spelling error makes me look like an idiot, where every gramatical mistake seems bad. But here, here, I want it to come out as raw as possible. I'm not trying to prove anything here. --Odd based on the title and theme, but still--I'm trying to just get this information out there. Whether it's THE truth or not, I don't know, a lot of it is just my thoughts and opinions on the matter. I do more observative research than technical research. If I were engaging in some scholarly pursuit with this blog, A, I wouldn't put the findings on a blog, B, I'd take extensive care to make it look good and professional.
That said, ideas can in fact be truthful, even though they aren't tested out...All scientific discoveries start with an idea after all. All creative works start with an idea as well.
What I really wanted to write out, is where do ideas go when they are good enough?
Ok, I'll quit being fescicious(sp?).
I've been thinking a lot lately about ideas I have...I'm obviously an ideas man, because I have plenty of good ideas. learning how to apply those ideas is a little more difficult however...
Take for instance that I have a business idea that I really think is superb and grand, Getting money for that idea is another story... I think this idea has the potential to be profitable, but how much, I don't know. Business is all about taking risks, and unfortunately I don't have the means right now to take those risks.
I'm actually quite bummed out about the whole thing because I can totally see myself turning it into a good enterprise if my circumstances were a little different...the problem is...I'm trapped in university. I'm just a young, big fish in a small pond or little fish in a big ocean--more likely the ocean. It's not a very fun feeling.
I suppose it's just not meant to be right now. Unfortunately I've advanced with things that will take some time to undo.
I realized though, that that isn't my field...the entrepreneurship, yes, but the industry isn't my turf (literature publication). My turf is the film industry. I am most comfortable in it. I know more about that industry than any other. Creating and telling stories, that's also my industry, but the marketing and publishing of written literature? not so much... I know they're closely related, but the market for literature is VERY different from that of film--even the market for screenplays is different from that of novels. It's odd--and yet they are connected.
If this blog proves to map out my own downfall, let me say now that I started this with great ambitions and great hope. The biggest thing that has always held me back has been school and living up to expectations--not my own, but other people's. Somehow I still feel obligated to make other people happy and I try to find compromises that help me and make others happy... Must be a natural trait I inherited somewhere along the line for being a human.
If there are any topics you, as my only reader (there are only a few people that read this) would like me to explore, please comment below. I come up with ideas all of the time, but it seems more gratifying to write FOR someone else.
I deserve this vacation.
I returned to my parents' home for the weekend, and will be attending my twin nieces' first birthday party.
It's 1 am.
I'm sitting in the kitchen with my mother, we casually chat, and it almost feels like we're in an office together. Her laptop is set up and I'm on her spare laptop--she's doing work, and I'm slacking off.
I can't sleep at nights.
I stay awake at night half wanting to stay up so that I can get some work done and feel those feelings of tiredness, and half wanting to sleep so badly so that I can have that refreshed feeling in the morning.
Now that I have a vacation I think I'll have both of my guilty pleasures at once: stay up late just because I can, sleep in late just so I can have that refreshed feeling. It feels good to so something you can't normally do--taking advantage of priceless opportunities is a grand experience.
This blog is about a few different things, and I feel as though I would like to go back through and re-read some of the things I explored on here.
Originally, I had in mind to use this blog to test out a theme that I had in my head of "how we know what we know" and that "we don't 'know' anything, it's all subjective, it's all based on assumptions about the way life works." We can come to "know" things, but when we look at the root foundation of that truth, we discover that all we know is that if "ideal" situations existed (the ones that we THINK are reality) then yes, what we know would be true. But because there are no "ideal" situations, we can't ever FULLY know anything.--This concept gets really deep and confusing, but if you apply the same learning processes to believe that what I say is real, then it will all make perfect sense (as much sense as anything else).
The best way I can explain this is to use this example: When you drop something, it falls. When you drop something in outter space, does it fall? --it doesn't appear to be falling, does it? It appears to be floating, yes? Well we come to find out that it IS falling. The whole universe is moving and what we know as "the lack of gravity" is really the existence of gravity applied in a much larger scale. If all you knew was that in outer space things don't fall, they float, you would be correct, yes. But at the same time you would be false (when you get into technicalities). That's what I wanted to explore on this blog, that what we know about anything is really not what we know, and although it might have SOME truth to it, it's not the FULL truth.
That little example is where the title of this blog came from actually.
Secretly, I also touch on a brief theme every now and again that is a pun on the title of this blog as well: when a person falls, there are typically reactions, there are typically cause and effect relationships to everything. We discover that a person's life is more impactful than we originally suspect. I've been affected by everyone I met, whether I liked that person or not, I was shaped by it. And I've seen people go downhill. I've seen people at the end of their lives--lives full of excitement and apparent grandeur, yet these people have lapsed into alsheimers (sp?) or some other mental illness that diminishes their previous life.
It's all very interesting. But it has a tone of sadness too. I've seen others who have taken more steep dives--drops from having great respect to having very little respect from those around them. These are people who are great leaders--you don't become great without having leadership ability. I think the mere fact that great people do it is a sign that anyone can fall, and hopefully they will catch themselves before anything serious occurs, but still, people fall from grace, fall from life, fall from whatever.
I also purposely write these late at night right before my bedtime--most of them--and in a sense the title also comes from when I fall asleep. A lot of the time that I'm awake I don't know if I'm awake or asleep, I merely know that it is late and that I am still being active. I have a go-to-bed ritual that helps me distinguish time, but I shudder to think what would happen if I ever did that ritual and then went about doing something. I might really fall asleep doing something--speaking of which, my mother just about hit her head on her laptop...I'm watching her nod off and arise again. --I've never done that, but by the time I reach her age I might just do it...of course, by the time I'm finished with university I intend on getting on a real schedule and quit staying up at nights. I've seen my mother drop actually...there are times when her late night behaviors don't help her in may ways, and I dont' want to be that way. Sleep is a good thing.
I have to make a confession now before it's too late...
I'm purposely sloppy in writing this blog. I have other, more professional places where I strive for perfection in my writing--where every spelling error makes me look like an idiot, where every gramatical mistake seems bad. But here, here, I want it to come out as raw as possible. I'm not trying to prove anything here. --Odd based on the title and theme, but still--I'm trying to just get this information out there. Whether it's THE truth or not, I don't know, a lot of it is just my thoughts and opinions on the matter. I do more observative research than technical research. If I were engaging in some scholarly pursuit with this blog, A, I wouldn't put the findings on a blog, B, I'd take extensive care to make it look good and professional.
That said, ideas can in fact be truthful, even though they aren't tested out...All scientific discoveries start with an idea after all. All creative works start with an idea as well.
What I really wanted to write out, is where do ideas go when they are good enough?
Ok, I'll quit being fescicious(sp?).
I've been thinking a lot lately about ideas I have...I'm obviously an ideas man, because I have plenty of good ideas. learning how to apply those ideas is a little more difficult however...
Take for instance that I have a business idea that I really think is superb and grand, Getting money for that idea is another story... I think this idea has the potential to be profitable, but how much, I don't know. Business is all about taking risks, and unfortunately I don't have the means right now to take those risks.
I'm actually quite bummed out about the whole thing because I can totally see myself turning it into a good enterprise if my circumstances were a little different...the problem is...I'm trapped in university. I'm just a young, big fish in a small pond or little fish in a big ocean--more likely the ocean. It's not a very fun feeling.
I suppose it's just not meant to be right now. Unfortunately I've advanced with things that will take some time to undo.
I realized though, that that isn't my field...the entrepreneurship, yes, but the industry isn't my turf (literature publication). My turf is the film industry. I am most comfortable in it. I know more about that industry than any other. Creating and telling stories, that's also my industry, but the marketing and publishing of written literature? not so much... I know they're closely related, but the market for literature is VERY different from that of film--even the market for screenplays is different from that of novels. It's odd--and yet they are connected.
If this blog proves to map out my own downfall, let me say now that I started this with great ambitions and great hope. The biggest thing that has always held me back has been school and living up to expectations--not my own, but other people's. Somehow I still feel obligated to make other people happy and I try to find compromises that help me and make others happy... Must be a natural trait I inherited somewhere along the line for being a human.
If there are any topics you, as my only reader (there are only a few people that read this) would like me to explore, please comment below. I come up with ideas all of the time, but it seems more gratifying to write FOR someone else.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Second Life
Part 2
I did it.
I really did it.
I looked myself in the mirror last night and told myself what I felt about myself. We had a long chat, you and I. And I realized exactly what was bothering me: I lost my voice.
When I was 17, I was on top of the world. Why the freak was that? What did I stray to over 5 years? Where the hell did I go?
--That's exactly where I went. I went there and back again. Me and Dante, me and Bilbo. To see if I could do it all. I went miles. Years. Moments. Experiences. And I survived.
I took a journey, and that journey took me to the depths of hell. I lived a life that I wasn't to see what I was missing. And let me tell you, hell's a scary place. Me and Goodman Brown, we walked with the devil for a time and realized who that old man was.
But when I got out of hell I realized hell isn't much different from life--I didn't realize that Heaven appears briefly and I don't take advantage of it like I should.
So when I looked in the mirror I recommitted myself. I realized that I need to enlist Pan's help in sewing my shadow back and Ariel's help getting my voice back. And as soon as I left that mirror to another dimension, I realized that the contents of that mirror had escaped into this dimension.
I got my voice back.
I got my shadow back.
The way I was when I was 17. That's me again. Cheeky, ballsy, daring, adventurous, optimistic, contagious, hopeful, possessing an inner strength, confident. That's who I am. That's who I was all along. That's who I was meant to be. So I'm returning to that life.
But I'm not just returning. I'm bringing all of my experiences with me. And I'm going to figure out how to apply them in the right way.
Me n' Eminem, Jay-Z, Marlon Brando, we're all actors here.
cheeky
I did it.
I really did it.
I looked myself in the mirror last night and told myself what I felt about myself. We had a long chat, you and I. And I realized exactly what was bothering me: I lost my voice.
When I was 17, I was on top of the world. Why the freak was that? What did I stray to over 5 years? Where the hell did I go?
--That's exactly where I went. I went there and back again. Me and Dante, me and Bilbo. To see if I could do it all. I went miles. Years. Moments. Experiences. And I survived.
I took a journey, and that journey took me to the depths of hell. I lived a life that I wasn't to see what I was missing. And let me tell you, hell's a scary place. Me and Goodman Brown, we walked with the devil for a time and realized who that old man was.
But when I got out of hell I realized hell isn't much different from life--I didn't realize that Heaven appears briefly and I don't take advantage of it like I should.
So when I looked in the mirror I recommitted myself. I realized that I need to enlist Pan's help in sewing my shadow back and Ariel's help getting my voice back. And as soon as I left that mirror to another dimension, I realized that the contents of that mirror had escaped into this dimension.
I got my voice back.
I got my shadow back.
The way I was when I was 17. That's me again. Cheeky, ballsy, daring, adventurous, optimistic, contagious, hopeful, possessing an inner strength, confident. That's who I am. That's who I was all along. That's who I was meant to be. So I'm returning to that life.
But I'm not just returning. I'm bringing all of my experiences with me. And I'm going to figure out how to apply them in the right way.
Me n' Eminem, Jay-Z, Marlon Brando, we're all actors here.
cheeky
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
This Life
PART 1
I'm really disappointed with life. Is that common?
I'm going to branch away from my traditional posts (I've kinda been doing that lately) and hopefully I can branch back into the blog's theme.
--I'm LDS, I'm sure I've mentioned that before on here. One of my beliefs (and it isn't just limited to LDS faith, because a lot of other religions believe this way) is that my spirit existed before this life. My spirit is eternal, though my body will die some day and I will wait until my spirit and body are reunited.
Under that light, I'm wondering what my thoughts were before I was born, before I agreed to come into this life. I wonder if I was told by God the things that would happen to me if I came down here. I wonder if I was told about what I could become if I put the effort into it. That's kinda how I believe. I believe that I was told some of the things I might face, I was told about my potential, and I was told how wonderful life could be.
But lately, over the last...oh...5 years. Life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would. What I mean is that five years ago, I was 17. I thought that was a golden year for me. I remember it being quite spectacular though I don't recall everything (or hardly anything) that happened to me back then. Over the last 5 years I have been exposed to a lot of reality about life. Stress has bore down on me. The things that I wanted out of life have seen so distant and I've lost a lot of hope. Nearly everything I thought about life back then turned out to be false, and I feel like I was so innocent back then, I was so naive.
I almost want to say that I was living in a fantasy world back then, and I made decisions that turned me into who I am now--I made -the best- decisions up until now. Out of the "grand" decisions that really shape my life, I chose perfectly. Because I'm convinced there is nothing I could have done better--I'm convinced that I'm on a direct course into what I want to become--as long as I survive the turbulence in front of me and I don't stray from this course.
But I'm not sure this is what I want.
It's weird to say that. To say that I feel like I've taken full advantage of life, (and therefore there is nothing that I could do better about my past life) and if I were given the opportunity to do it over again and make things "Better"--I don't think I could make it better.
I definitely can't think of anything to make it better. Everything that happened to me made me better. Sure, I made some stupid decisions, I wasn't perfect in that sense. But if I didn't make those decisions, I wouldn't have been given other opportunities.
...this is getting complicated. Let's just say that in the grand scheme of things, I made all the right decisions.
But the thing that upsets me, is that even though I've become a spectacular person--the kind of person that I always wished I would be when I was younger--I'm not satisfied. If I were to meet myself when I was younger, my younger self would look up to and respect me, but my older self looks at me and doesn't look up to myself and only respects me.
If I were to look at myself in the mirror...I mean really look myself in the mirror, because I haven't done that in such a long time--probably since I was 17...
If I were to do that, I only see myself as an equal.
I want to see myself as amazing. I know there are those out there who look at me as a hero. It's disturbing. The only thing I've done for these people is befriend them, listen to them, entertain them, and teach them. I motivate them merely because I have aspirations. I haven't done anything for them though. At the present time I am incapable of doing so.
I want to be my own hero. Was there a greek hero who struggled so?
<center>------------</center>
I think if I had the chance to meet with my younger self--just for a little bit--I might tell myself to forget about cramming myself with knowledge, seeking for ways to line my pockets with money, and I'd tell myself to just chase skirts.
I don't know how sound this advice is. My gut tells me it's stupid. But what do I know? I'm wiser now. I may know more and may be more capable. But I know I'm not the best. I know that the more I learn, the more I know I don't know anything. The more I talk the more I wish I could listen. The more I listen the more I wish I didn't have to listen.
Call me proud, arrogant, stubborn, and stupid, but I see people around me rising above me who aren't as smart as I am, aren't as ambitious as I am, aren't as resourceful as I am, and aren't as diplomatic as I am. They get ahead by luck, and they call it skill. I can't make any sense of it. And I have a terrible time rising above it. Really... I want so badly to have a mentor to someone great. I so badly want to follow someone rather than lead. I so badly want to not think and no have to make decisions right now. --save that for when I'm older.
But I don't have that privilege. No one will take me in.
I'm virtually unknown to the big world. I'm a nobody on the outside of the elite circle. Sure, I might have potential, but I haven't been given a chance. No one will teach me the next steps.
And I would say that's the most frustrating thing about this life. Everyone I know who is smarter than I, they're not in fields that interest me, fields that I could excel in. They aren't capable of taking me to the next level. I don't know anyone living who has become what I want to become.
I don't know the system well enough to become what I want to become. I don't know how to find anyone who will mentor me.
I'm really disappointed with life. Is that common?
I'm going to branch away from my traditional posts (I've kinda been doing that lately) and hopefully I can branch back into the blog's theme.
--I'm LDS, I'm sure I've mentioned that before on here. One of my beliefs (and it isn't just limited to LDS faith, because a lot of other religions believe this way) is that my spirit existed before this life. My spirit is eternal, though my body will die some day and I will wait until my spirit and body are reunited.
Under that light, I'm wondering what my thoughts were before I was born, before I agreed to come into this life. I wonder if I was told by God the things that would happen to me if I came down here. I wonder if I was told about what I could become if I put the effort into it. That's kinda how I believe. I believe that I was told some of the things I might face, I was told about my potential, and I was told how wonderful life could be.
But lately, over the last...oh...5 years. Life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would. What I mean is that five years ago, I was 17. I thought that was a golden year for me. I remember it being quite spectacular though I don't recall everything (or hardly anything) that happened to me back then. Over the last 5 years I have been exposed to a lot of reality about life. Stress has bore down on me. The things that I wanted out of life have seen so distant and I've lost a lot of hope. Nearly everything I thought about life back then turned out to be false, and I feel like I was so innocent back then, I was so naive.
I almost want to say that I was living in a fantasy world back then, and I made decisions that turned me into who I am now--I made -the best- decisions up until now. Out of the "grand" decisions that really shape my life, I chose perfectly. Because I'm convinced there is nothing I could have done better--I'm convinced that I'm on a direct course into what I want to become--as long as I survive the turbulence in front of me and I don't stray from this course.
But I'm not sure this is what I want.
It's weird to say that. To say that I feel like I've taken full advantage of life, (and therefore there is nothing that I could do better about my past life) and if I were given the opportunity to do it over again and make things "Better"--I don't think I could make it better.
I definitely can't think of anything to make it better. Everything that happened to me made me better. Sure, I made some stupid decisions, I wasn't perfect in that sense. But if I didn't make those decisions, I wouldn't have been given other opportunities.
...this is getting complicated. Let's just say that in the grand scheme of things, I made all the right decisions.
But the thing that upsets me, is that even though I've become a spectacular person--the kind of person that I always wished I would be when I was younger--I'm not satisfied. If I were to meet myself when I was younger, my younger self would look up to and respect me, but my older self looks at me and doesn't look up to myself and only respects me.
If I were to look at myself in the mirror...I mean really look myself in the mirror, because I haven't done that in such a long time--probably since I was 17...
If I were to do that, I only see myself as an equal.
I want to see myself as amazing. I know there are those out there who look at me as a hero. It's disturbing. The only thing I've done for these people is befriend them, listen to them, entertain them, and teach them. I motivate them merely because I have aspirations. I haven't done anything for them though. At the present time I am incapable of doing so.
I want to be my own hero. Was there a greek hero who struggled so?
<center>------------</center>
I think if I had the chance to meet with my younger self--just for a little bit--I might tell myself to forget about cramming myself with knowledge, seeking for ways to line my pockets with money, and I'd tell myself to just chase skirts.
I don't know how sound this advice is. My gut tells me it's stupid. But what do I know? I'm wiser now. I may know more and may be more capable. But I know I'm not the best. I know that the more I learn, the more I know I don't know anything. The more I talk the more I wish I could listen. The more I listen the more I wish I didn't have to listen.
Call me proud, arrogant, stubborn, and stupid, but I see people around me rising above me who aren't as smart as I am, aren't as ambitious as I am, aren't as resourceful as I am, and aren't as diplomatic as I am. They get ahead by luck, and they call it skill. I can't make any sense of it. And I have a terrible time rising above it. Really... I want so badly to have a mentor to someone great. I so badly want to follow someone rather than lead. I so badly want to not think and no have to make decisions right now. --save that for when I'm older.
But I don't have that privilege. No one will take me in.
I'm virtually unknown to the big world. I'm a nobody on the outside of the elite circle. Sure, I might have potential, but I haven't been given a chance. No one will teach me the next steps.
And I would say that's the most frustrating thing about this life. Everyone I know who is smarter than I, they're not in fields that interest me, fields that I could excel in. They aren't capable of taking me to the next level. I don't know anyone living who has become what I want to become.
I don't know the system well enough to become what I want to become. I don't know how to find anyone who will mentor me.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
fiction
I really ought to write fiction.
I do right fiction...I write scripts every now and again. But they're a little complex. Not sure if that's what I was really going for. I'm not the best at them. Takes a lot of w0rk to write a good one.
I write poems too. Fiction poems. They're not the best either. I know that. I don't feel like improving them. My style is raw: play it as it lies; use it as it falls out of my head. When one falls. That's it.
I've mentioned before what the title of this blog means. I said it right when I launched the thing. Something about it though is evolving. I am evolving. I'm learning; I'm adapting; I'm changing. Mostly though I'm falling. I have no control over it and yet I have full control over it.
Right now I'm just sitting in my underwear and a button up shirt...unbuttoned. I'm falling. I'm making a statement. And I'm not sure that I want to make that statement. Not under oath.
I'm always falling.
Life
is always falling. I'm learning how to improve my writing; but more importantly, I'm learning things about myself. I'm learning that I have things to say.
That makes me unpopular.
And I blame myself as if I am causing my own problems because I can't communicate well enough.
It goes back to my childhood, when I got in trouble several times by my parents, babysitters, neighbors, etc. They accused me of things that I couldn't defend myself. I wasn't good enough of a speaker--or I was too good of a speaker. People assume the worst of you when you're good at speaking. I had that problem in high school. My character was suspicious simply because I was good at looking innocent. Sometimes I was innocent, other times I was pulling pranks. But most times I was blamed anyway.
Put yourself in my shoes for a minute: I'm trying to persuade you. This whole blog is about persuasion--rhetoric. I persuade you to believe in morals. I persuade you to believe in my way of thinking. I teach you the art of persuasion as I understand it. Am I a reliable speaker? who knows. I don't even know sometimes. My brain plays tricks on me.
One more minute: I'm a dating coach. --or I was. Up until recently I didn't know that I wanted to be a relationship coach. That's all I cared about. Relationships. I have had many. I have very few. I have more than I claim to have. I don't want to claim some of them.
I have had "girlfriends" I have had "friends" I have had "lovers," "romances," "flings." I've developed a kind of power over the opposite sex. That's what sex is about really. Power. . . Among other things. I've had power. I don't want power. And for that I get more power.
just one more minute: I'm lonely though. I feel as though I have few intellectual equals. There was a time when I thought that I would never have an intellectual equal. It still hasn't happened. I still wonder. But back then, I had the balls to try pairing with someone stupid. Do you understand me? I had the balls to push forward with a marriage to someone I knew had physical flaws that I didn't have, who made stupid decisions that I didn't approve of, who talked about things I didn't care about, who liked everything I hated, who went about the world so ignorant and innocent that she was actually quite perverse and disgusting. I thought it would balance me out. I thought I knew what love was. I do know what Love is. But she didn't. I gave a part of myself to her. Not because there was any romance--I was hoping there would be more actually, but there wasn't. She couldn't provide for my financial needs. She couldn't provide my emotional needs. She definately couldn't provide me mentally. And hell, not even spiritually.
I thought she could. I thought her innocence would at least be something to fall back on. That was a lie on her part. She didn't know shit about morals. She had no ethics. She barely knew right from wrong. And yet I proceeded. I kept going. I kept thinking that one day she would snap and realize things and she would fit into the mold I was trying to fit her into in my head.
I've taken your time, but please, just a little more. Hear me out: I was going to marry this girl because I knew that -I- needed to get married. Because -i- am incomplete. I am missing a part of me.
But that part isn't necessarily companionship.
I don't know what it is anymore.
I thought I wanted someone I could talk to. Someone who could lean on me and I could lean on too. --I had that. I have that. I have friends who would take a bullet for me. They're the best kind of friends I could ever ask for in life. They'll listen to me if I talk. They'll stay up with me to chat. and I find myself loving them enough to stay up with them late at night to chat. To help them reach their goals. To help them succeed. I try to comfort them as much as possible, and when I can't comfort them I give them the space to make their own decisions and grow. And I was going to marry a girl who -I- could be that to. Who -I- could make happy every day. who -I- could be there for.
I was doing all of the work. All of it.
Why?
Because I have these feelings deep down inside that I don't have control over. That I have to vent every now and again. They're pent up creative energy. I want to create so badly.
I have other needs though. I have a lot of needs. But chiefly I have needs to understand what I don't understand. I have needs to live in reality to be connected to it, anchored to it. But I live in fiction. Everything I tell myself about life is a lie. I'm good at lying to myself. I'm good at dramatizing things. A lot of people are. More people than you might think.
If you tell people something enough, they eventually believe it. They break down and submit to it. That's why motivational speeches work so well. --You tell yourself that you're the greatest long enough and you become the greatest.
I tell myself every day that I own the world...its something I inherited by appreciating it, watching it, enjoying it. And somehow I DO own the world. I own my world. I own a part of the world through my experiences from my vantage point. I own it. Its somethign YOu will never own, and it's all mine. But that doesn't mean I physically own it.
You tell yourself something enough, it'll become true, whether in the way you want it to or not. And If I tell you something enough, you'll believe it too. I could lie to you every day; tell you how much of a saint I am, or how much of a devil I am. I could persuade you enough times and you would believe it.
You would believe it because you're lazy.
You would believe it because you can't formulate your own will enough.
You can't formulate your own opinions and so you succumb to "smart" peoples' opinions.
Most of them aren't smart.
Most people are full of shit I've found.
Rhetoric'll teach you that.
It takes a certain kind of person to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Lawyers can't even do it.
Because you have to know the truth to tell the truth
And then you have to have the morals to follow through with it,
No matter what.
So I could tell you what I need. How having a girlfriend or wife is going to fix that. But it's not. I could tell you how life's this happy place if only you believe it so; but it's not. I could tell you that I'm the worst dog there is. But I'm not. I could tell you that I'm a perfect saint. But I'm not. I could tell you that I'm SO smart. But I'm not.
I don't know where I stand.
All I know is where I want to be.
And when I reach that,
I don't want to be there anymore.
I want to be destined for greatness
but greatness is earned, not given.
I want to have that sublime moment
where I'm up so high
and now I'm falling.
But I never get high enough to do it.
I want to know where I stand
But I'm sure that if I figure out what my purpose is
in this messed up life,
I won't want to be there.
I won't want to follow through with my purpose
if you told me what it was.
No matter what it is, it's not high enough.
It could be emperor of the earth,
but it wouldn't be good enough.
I'd want to be the lowly peasant who holds the door for me at my house.
HIS life is exciting. He has such an easy job, he can't make a mistake.
He can sleep naked if he wants.
No one wants to kill him.
The only person who might hate him is the emperor.
And yet, if I were him,
I'd want more than that.
Like I said, I want fiction. I want what I can't have. I want to fill this hole in my life that I haven't been able to fill. The hole that I can't explain. The one that tells me there is something wrong. The one that I can't put into words. And I keep repeating it and touching on it over and over.
I want to be great. Sure. I'll admit that. --it may be pompous for me to do so though. I don't want to be pompous, but I have settled on better to be pompous than a nobody. I'm fine with that decision. And hopefully I'll dodge the actual bullet and I won't be a pompous.
I want to be pure. But why?--because it makes me a better person?(because it makes me above everyone else? because it gives me more power[spiritual]? Because I know that impurity hurts? Because I am accountable for my own actions?)
I want to be accountable. But is that because I don't want to hurt other people? Is that because being accountable leads to other opportunities and I know that I might need those opportunities?
I want to be free. I know that. If I am chained, I want it to be by my own self-control, and not because other people want to control me. But is that possible? Eventually other people may have to control me in order to keep the world running.
If it means having great attributes--being a part of something bigger than me, then...I'd give up my freedom.
I suppose I want to be a part of something bigger than me. Something influential. Because it makes me feel like there is a purpose to what I do with my life.
I want to have a reason for doing everything. But how do i differentiate between if the reason is a good reason or a bad reason?
If the reason for doing something is bad, obviously that doesn't make the action bad, because only outcomes are bad...it's not bad to shoot animals, but if shooting animals makes you go loco then it's not good for you to do so.
So...action reaction? Utilitarianism? What do I do with my life?
Monday, October 10, 2011
'Hood
I have been quite productive the last few days... But no major successes of note (I should say that I have success stories all the time that don't seem "major" to me, so I want to write about the next BIG thing, instead of the minor steps that lead up to it)
In other news
Tonight, I couldn't sleep--still can't. I went into the kitchen to have a bowl of cereal as a midnight snack. I discovered my roommate watching netflix and decided to join him for a little bit because I was eating right there anyway. He told me that he couldn't sleep (join the club, I've actually grown to like not sleeping...the only dreadful part is when I wake up at 9am and think: "why did I not go to bed earlier" but I quickly recover from it--if I can get out of bed that is, but I've come to terms with it and I seem to force myself out.
I don't typically like to write about specific people on this blog--it wouldn't be proper to go around blabbing about people. But tonight I think I will make an exception because it brings up a topic that I want to mention.
So my roommate was sitting there and he asked me a silly question--the kind of questions that you think of only at night when you're not tired but you want to sleep and your mind races as you think about things. Now, I must say that this roommate actually asks me a lot of odd questions--it's a part of his personality. This question wasn't so odd though: which of our neighbors do I think is the cutest.
I had never thought about the question, and for a couple reasons: first, dating your neighbors can get you into trouble, doing ANYTHING romantic with your neighbors can be troublesome, and even merely being friends and going over to their place can cause problems. I don't want to ruin a good apartment complex. I like it here because I don't have enemies and I don't have friends. If I start to hear drama I walk away. The idiots here might think it's anti-social, but I consider it opti-social.--I am encouraging good relationships with everyone because I don't bother them, yet I'm fine with them coming over and bothering me all they want.--I just don't intend to go into their turf unless they need my help and I can go in and out real quick. So far it has worked like a charm, and although I may get bad vibes here and there from my neighbors, they are merely vibes, and vibes aren't necessarily realities. Plus, the vibes are gone the moment I walk away--Either they are real and they stop, or they aren't real, and I don't notice them when I am not around. In any case, this works, and that's all I care about. No conflict...no problem, no structured differences...no problem, and when I don't have the opportunity, and they don't have the opportunity, to think it, then there is no constructive differences...no problem. (it's a play on sociology)
Returning to the question. He simplified it by saying: which one has the cutest face?
I thought about it, verbally and in my head, in front of him: one girl looked like she was from back in the woods, and having lived in west virginia it scared me away from. Another had a triangle head and bug eyes. Still another had bug-eyes, but a flat head. One looked too native american to me. That left three girls--well it left a few others, but I don't really see them ever so it feels as though they aren't neighbors, even though they're 20ft away from me...
I am not sure why he asked this question. Usually people have motives for asking questions, even if those motives are merely subconscious. In my head I went over the possible motives: he could be trying to determine my likes, he could be trying to determine what he should like, he could be trying to justify himself in his head for something (I don't know anything about his situation, so everything I assume is made up, but let's assume he kissed one of them and wants to justify doing so, or one of them digs him and he wants justification for not chasing after her, or lets say he has the hots for one and... I don't know. Justification of some sort) or he could just be thinking about some fantasy in his head and subconsciously he wants to include me in that fantasy.
Since his motives were unclear, I did a little trick that I think should have a rhetorical name if it doesn't already:
I went with the girl that I knew was taken. I narrowed the results down to three and then said: well it could be L, M, or E, (in my head they were the top three "cutest" by his definition of facial features). Oddly, one was a blond, a red head and a brunette, but that just makes the situation humorous. (lol). [I think I may have mentioned this in an article a long time ago, but subconsciously I noticed that I go for red heads when I don't think about it, and in this situation I probably would have gone with the red head had my brain not been contemplating other things].
E is the one that's dating that one guy right?
yes.
I think E has the cutest face.
Let me re-explain the situation though:
I set myself up as authoritative by spouting reasons why each girl got disqualified. I related it directly to him and things he would agree with that I agreed with (found common ground). I narrowed it down to three choices and all but tiered them. Then, using my own facial experessions and body language, I seemed to hint that there was something wrong with L and that left E or M and I hastily went with E as though I weren't thinking about it. --I am thinking about it... still. So it wasn't REALLY a hasty decision. But he probably thought it was and let it brush off.
That's not the interesting part of this story though.
There are other, more interesting aspects to the situation.
Neither is this, but I'll start here anyway:
You see, that intricate response resolved all of the possible motives all at once: by choosing the one that was already taken, I chose the popular choice. If he denies it there is always the claim that her boyfriend agrees with me. If he is picking at my own character, I responded in a manner that seemed as though it were not a big deal to me, I am an authority, and I don't play favorites.
When he first asked the question I asked him to clarify what he meant by "cute" because it applies to many different things. In that sense I showed that I clearly think about other things that just physical appearance. (sure, it ranks up there, but other things are more important to me). etc. etc. I am thoroughly satisfied with the response I gave him, in fact it had a reverse effect strategically: I gleamed more evidence that he is lonely, wanting a girlfriend, and that he thinks about the neighbors (if merely subconsciously). (psychology is fun, if often wrong and based on assumptions!)
So here's the interesting thing:
Although I have never thought about -that- question before, I had a faint thought once about the "cute" aspect of my neighbors.--I think I do it with every girl I meet: I size them up and group them in order to compartmentalize my behavior towards them.
On my first week of living here, I ventured upstairs to the girls' above me apartment a couple times. --Never again! Everything and everyone was still new to me (I like to observe first then react). And since I had just moved to logan again, didn't really know anyone...again, didn't know how school would turn out, didn't know how my roommates would turn out, didn't know anything. I went upstairs to introduce myself to them. First, I met one girl and was somewhat surprised and scared by the introduction. She opened the door quickly and I forgot the reason for going up there--it was startling, not just by the approach and her body language at the time, but because of how young she looked--it turns out she was underage, and I had good reason to be surprised! I was greeted by a munchkin and didn't know what to say: sorry if my music loud I turn down--I, you live room I below where? --okay, it wasn't that traumatic, but still.
The next time I came over, three of them were home. The munchkin and the redhead were watching a little kid show that might be humorous to someone...younger... Since I didn't know how old the munchkin was, nor did I know anything about her or redhead, I just absorbed the info and told myself 'whatever'. half smile shrug.
While conversing with the two about their show and about basic introductions, L showed up. She was complaining about how HORRIBLE it was to unpack after being gone for so long.
Let me just recap at this point what first impressions were:
Munckin: young, jumpy, is entertained by kid's shows
M: redhead, kids shows, something to do with teaching little kids
L: complainer, over dramatic.
Continue.
L: I've been gone for sOOOoooOOoo long.
Oh...that's nice...are you bragging?
She then proceeded to talk about her wii, and her summer vacation, and how she was also an english major and a whole bunch of phoney stuff that made me think she was bragging about her intelligence. She said how she wanted to take a specific class on rhetoric to which I felt the urge to brag about my own experiences with the class and how awesome it was. --I took that class about a year ago and added what I learned to my arsenal of rhetorical strategy. After chatting for a brief while, munchkin and redhead told us that they have never felt like they weren't smart, but after listening to our conversation now they did feel slightly unintelligent.
My roommate realized he needed to leave (or maybe he wasn't there at this visit? I'm not sure)
2nd First impression: L: bragger, somethign to do with wanting to be a lawyer, thinks she is smart, talks funny which makes her seem less serious, VERY sarcastic--also makes me not want to take her seriously. Summing it up: not sure whether to take her seriously ever.
On my final visit up there, all of them were home.
It turns out that I was in a class with one of them--she was quiet then. Quiet now. Don't know how to place her--sure she knows how to place me (because I'm very active, very diplomatic, assertive, confident, and probably made several gaffs here and there that everyone is aware of--in other words, I'm a noteworthy individual: you either like me or hate me. You decide, I don't care.)
The other one who I just met I had actually met at my place because she is old friends with one of my roommates. They were from Virginia together. I lived in virginia for 6 months of my mission. At first she seemed nice, she was making a cake for her boyfriend. Something to do with she has a wheat intolerance and couldn't eat any for herself. She offered to let me hang there until my other roommates showed up. It was my first week--I had nothing to do.
While sitting there I faded into the background. I overheard and saw the social happenings from my little perch--they all seem to get along fairly well, munchkin isn't just young but she's also very blond and gullible. L isn't just sarcastic she's too sarcastic. M is quiet. E runs the shots and seems to have the most leadership abilities of all of them. The other girl wasn't around for very much.
This is where everything shifted.
Since I blended into the environment rather than contributed, it just got awkward. When my roommates showed up I was decked in camo--no one spoke to me, I just listened. And I was bombarded with information. Details, man, details. --I am one to notice a lot of details and make sense of them either then or later--I was still trying to make sense of things and my brain was getting swamped. Keeping track of this many characters is hard as it is (seven people) trying to do so without stepping on anyone's toes, portraying in a diplomatic manner, and possibly establishing a few treaties at the same time is deathly difficult.
The thing is: if you go in too fast, you step all over the place and everyone hates you or suspects you. These were the natives who had connections and roots already, I was the newbie that no one expects anything good from and is annoyed when they ruin everything. I didn't want to make a bad impression. If you go in too slow, you get forgotten, making yourself stand out in a crowd is key, but you don't want to go too far. I think I did both: got forgotten, then went too far.
Our conversation led to the telling of old jokes. I'm not one for memorizing jokes. I like telling things as they happen and making jokes of them presently. I had wit and storytelling, but I'm not the greatest. I felt inclined to share a story joke that I heard the other day--it was the only one I could remember. Unfortunately, too many details had already swarmed my head and I couldn't concentrate on the joke. I tried to adapt it to the crowd by changing the name of the teams involved and that didn't help.
My story took too long to tell, had too many fumbles and the punchline was ruined. Plus, they had already heard it. That's about the worst thing that could happen for a storyteller. I looked like a novice. I only had one recovery "well I suppose I butchered that joke, but that's okay, you guys already knew it." I think the impression they could have taken from me is that I try too hard and don't know what I'm talking about...
After telling my joke I knew my overclocked brain couldn't handle more comments. I waited till there was a break in the conversation and looked for an excuse to leave. *bing* I got an email.
I turned to E, the leader, and asked for her help in determining the religious validity of my situation "is sending emails on sunday breaking the sabbath?" --of course not. --of course it isn't any of her business. --of course I was going to do it anyway--of course I didn't need to ask for her permission or anything.
But it gave me an out. I hate departures because I never know how to depart. I never feel like the life of the party, so my absence isn't going to kill things. Sometimes I really am the life force and I just don't realize it--which is another reason to hate departures because what do you say to that: sorry, but you're on your own, the party is dead now that I leave. This wasn't one of those times, thankfully.
I left, E knew my excuse, though I don't think she cared. I walked out, said goodbye, I think no one heard it. and that was the last time I went over there.
Except for...
I am prepared for most things. I am one of the few people on my block with a toolbox, I'm the only one I know of who can pick locks, and I have a lot of obscure talents that come in handy every now and again.
Munchkin has come over a few times asking for help, which I promptly gave. M has too.
I used to sit on the porch when the weather permitted and I saw the neighbors a little more often. That's where I started to get vibes from them that they were avoiding me or didn't like me, or other fanciful things. I'm sure it was all made up in my head, so I hold no one accountable. Vibes just happen sometimes and only 80% of the time are my vibes real.
So to answer my roommates question in the way that I would naturally respond to it, I would have to say that M is the cutest. munchkin is too young for my tastes, E is taken and she's too much of a leader to be anything other than an acquaintance I would call on once a year for assistance, I don't know whether to take L seriously and she seems she could cause a lot of drama and be a total nerd all at once, finally there is that other girl who I just don't know enough about--anything about--and yet was in a class with her once--not sure which class though. That means she doesn't make an impression whatsoever.
To conclude, I want to bring up a thought I had while I showed before bed tonight (I'm in the process of going to bed, I promise!)
With my roommate A, if he IS lonely and looking for a girl, I have a little bit of advice for him, and anyone out there (hopefully this turns out short, because in my mind things that are long appear to be short):
Alpha: If you want to have "fun" with girls because you don't want to make commitments and you don't want...whatever. Whether you want to kiss or do something more along the lines that short-term relationships do, then you have two rules to follow:
1) make sure she is a virgin, and doesn't have mouth diseases like cold sores or oral herpes.--you don't want to catch anything from the experience that you would regret when you get married and give it to your wife.
2) after narrowing your potential short-term relationship girls, rank them in *prettiest* to ugliest. Not cutest to whatever. You want her to be as pretty as possible so that your experiences are always: remember when I made out with that smoking hot girl in college? That was the life.
beta: If you're looking for more than fun, "cute" isn't your primary concern. Figure out what you REALLY need out of a long-term relationship and look for that--you don't need looks for the long term. It doesn't work out so well for ANY of your motives...even if all you want her to do is have your kids and to ensure that your kids are good looking, your kids will be good looking, so good looking that they'll be pregnant at 15 and you'll have a lot of undue stress. It's just not worth it, because a lot of pretty girls have personalities that they act that way around their kids, based on how leadership works, the kids will follow the example and it'll just bring more snobby, self-absorbed, rude, ignorant children into the world. God and nature have a way of making beautiful rarities out of ugly parents. Let the pretty girls get worked over a few times by being sluts or idiots, and once their heart is broken, they've grown up, they're beat down and humble, and they're suddenly the nicest, non-vain women, then it's safe to form a relationship with them. Think of the future.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Always
It has been bothering me, and I am sure you can tell by the last few posts I have written on here...
Actually, it's always bothered me, and I've almost had a 6th sense about the whole thing that told me I didn't ever want to be a part of it.
Along with it, I feel like I have no culture, no roots, no background, because I don't fit into it.
So what is "it"?
It's the way people my age act, their culture, their mindsets, their behavior. It's anyone who is part of the 80s and 90s generation.
I am left to question whether all generations are like that and if they grow out of it, or what.
All I know is, when I was in high school, I was doing things--people thought I was being cocky all the time, but really I was just different from them. I wanted to be mature and do mature things, I didn't want to party all the time, and I didn't want to suck up all the time. I wanted to pave my own path. I wanted to be independent--really independent, not like the crowd followers movement that said they were independent and they were all doing the same thing.
I was never exposed to rock concerts. I didn't have money and couldn't buy music, or cars, or speakers for cars, or sports gear. I just glided around aloof, learning things on my own, on the streets, the web, and in books. School hasn't really taught me anything other than to get work done on a time table and to manage my time... The actual learning processes is rare for me because, chances are, I already learned and study something about it on my own time.
It's kinda screwed my lifestyle up out of the norm, by the way I was raised--the way I raised myself. I never really played around in life because I go that out of my system when I graduated from having a babysitter. --sure I pulled pranks on people here and there, but I try to conduct myself maturely whenever possible. But as such I've grown to have a disinterest in this society. I wouldn't go out drinking because that'd be like taking a step downward in life--to party and get drunk seems stupid to me. I wouldn't do drugs for the same reason. But at the same time, I don't want to go to "mormon" parties either, because that's like taking two steps down...it's a step down from the drinking parties.
If I were describe my situation in olden terms, I'd probably be the viking who didn't take part in pagan rituals because I thought they were fools mind games. And I literally don't see drugs or alcohol as an escape from this life...they're a PART of this life and I want to keep myself away from them.
I suppose you could say I'm having a mid-life crisis. I'm 22, and I've been in this crisis since I was 17. Somehow things just snapped for me back then. I'm ultra serious about life, I don't goof around much anymore because it doesn't interest me. I'm not naive enough.
About the only things that interest me are love, sex and money. And having kids some day. Right now I just feel like all the women my age are only after a good time, whether it's buying them things or sexing them up. And their culture (which may be hegemonic) has them doing stupid things like getting wasted, sexing it up, dancing and raving, dressing up in costumes, and being lunatics. And then judging everyone who isn't a part of that system. They only want the "spark" connection with other people--the excitement. They don't care about all those glorious things that humanity is known for: love, kindness, sincerity, peace, happiness. Who gives a shit?
I'm a little bitter over this as well. I started writing a short story called the cynical warrior which was meant to cover a lot of the satire about life. the main character was meant to be faced with unsurmountable odds, challenging, grusome battles, and the brutalities of life. And those things were going to shape him into a cynic. And parallel to his life was meant to be a world where no one gave a shit. Where society was the worse demon of the two. Where the cynical warrior was holding up the world and no one cared. That was it. That describes my life from the time I was 17 to the time I was 22.
I don't tell to many people this, but I only served a 20 month LDS mission. I felt as though I was needed more at home than I was in the field, and so I requested my leave. I went through the proper channels and saw myself flying home on an airplane. I suppose deep down inside I just couldn't handle it. I still can't handle it. I was too mature for the kids in the mission. I couldn't handle being grouped with them by my mission president who knew nothing about me. I couldn't handle people younger than me, less intelligent than me, and more irresponsible than I was at the time telling me that I was being irresponsible, that I was stupid, that they were better than me somehow, and that they were the mature ones. Bullshit.
People tend to believe that because of my age, because of my experiences, because of a few ink blots on my canvas that I'm not the best ship in the fleet. I'm air tight, I'm fast, and I have the best damn captain aboard. But more importantly, I've got guts. I'm inspired. I'm motivated. I'm willing. and I haven't seen a battle that I didn't come out on top--even when I returned from my mission.
You see, I left on my mission to get away from the creeps my age. I left on my mission so that people would look up to me and I could get past all of the bullshit and just do what I want to do: help people. I left on a mission so that I could look beyond myself. You know what happened to me? I got put in a worse circumstance so that God would humble me. Boy was I humbled. I was frustrated all of the time. I lost a lot of sleep. I never felt like my body was working right. I was torn to shreds and chewed up and spit out. I went through hell and my face was planted on the mat several times until the bell rang and I was given a breif round break.
I learned plenty. I learned too much. I learned that I didn't want to learn any more, and yet here I am, still learning. still in school. Still stuck in a world where people don't recognize the makings that I see in myself. Still stuck in a world where I have to compete with lowlifes in order to survive. Still stuck in a world where I'm the bottom of the totem pole. Plenty of people haven't seen the things I have seen.
Most people are stuck eating lotus. They don't know anything. They don't see anything. They're just there. It's called hegemony. And it forces people into silly roles. Like to fear people who come off as intelligent and confident. To cast out the eccentric for making a few comments here and there. To avoid any workings of true greatness.
Damn, I feel like I'm the loser who can only complain about how no one is giving him a chance in life, and that if I ever got a chance I'm sure I would excel with it.But that's the thing about life. It always tries to screw you when your pants are down. When you're at your lowest it tries to mess with you and degrade you further. I never had a chance to stand up because I was always stuck with my face on the mat. I was always the "least" capable ship in the harbor.
...And yet somehow I keep going. I'm the llama among the sheep herd. The eagle among crows. Satan tries to keep me down and make me like the rest of them. But I -know- I'm different. I know I'm better than the rest of them. I know that my chance will come some day. I know that I want to do great things and I'm not going to stop until I get them.
This frustration I face. It's nothing. I'll get over it. I always do. I always get out of the pin, I don't tap out. When I came home from my mission, it wasn't that I had lost the battle. The war isn't over. That battle wasn't a loss. It was a win. I won that battle because I did everything I could do. I walked away in the proper manner. I learned from the experience. I walked away with my head high. I walked away because there were other people who needed my help. I walked away and I am better for it. I did not lose.
Mohammed Ali said once "I'ma show you, how great I am." --Well I'm going to do the same. Life has knocked me down several times.
Hell, what am I doing here? I'll be back when I have something successful to say....
Actually, it's always bothered me, and I've almost had a 6th sense about the whole thing that told me I didn't ever want to be a part of it.
Along with it, I feel like I have no culture, no roots, no background, because I don't fit into it.
So what is "it"?
It's the way people my age act, their culture, their mindsets, their behavior. It's anyone who is part of the 80s and 90s generation.
I am left to question whether all generations are like that and if they grow out of it, or what.
All I know is, when I was in high school, I was doing things--people thought I was being cocky all the time, but really I was just different from them. I wanted to be mature and do mature things, I didn't want to party all the time, and I didn't want to suck up all the time. I wanted to pave my own path. I wanted to be independent--really independent, not like the crowd followers movement that said they were independent and they were all doing the same thing.
I was never exposed to rock concerts. I didn't have money and couldn't buy music, or cars, or speakers for cars, or sports gear. I just glided around aloof, learning things on my own, on the streets, the web, and in books. School hasn't really taught me anything other than to get work done on a time table and to manage my time... The actual learning processes is rare for me because, chances are, I already learned and study something about it on my own time.
It's kinda screwed my lifestyle up out of the norm, by the way I was raised--the way I raised myself. I never really played around in life because I go that out of my system when I graduated from having a babysitter. --sure I pulled pranks on people here and there, but I try to conduct myself maturely whenever possible. But as such I've grown to have a disinterest in this society. I wouldn't go out drinking because that'd be like taking a step downward in life--to party and get drunk seems stupid to me. I wouldn't do drugs for the same reason. But at the same time, I don't want to go to "mormon" parties either, because that's like taking two steps down...it's a step down from the drinking parties.
If I were describe my situation in olden terms, I'd probably be the viking who didn't take part in pagan rituals because I thought they were fools mind games. And I literally don't see drugs or alcohol as an escape from this life...they're a PART of this life and I want to keep myself away from them.
I suppose you could say I'm having a mid-life crisis. I'm 22, and I've been in this crisis since I was 17. Somehow things just snapped for me back then. I'm ultra serious about life, I don't goof around much anymore because it doesn't interest me. I'm not naive enough.
About the only things that interest me are love, sex and money. And having kids some day. Right now I just feel like all the women my age are only after a good time, whether it's buying them things or sexing them up. And their culture (which may be hegemonic) has them doing stupid things like getting wasted, sexing it up, dancing and raving, dressing up in costumes, and being lunatics. And then judging everyone who isn't a part of that system. They only want the "spark" connection with other people--the excitement. They don't care about all those glorious things that humanity is known for: love, kindness, sincerity, peace, happiness. Who gives a shit?
I'm a little bitter over this as well. I started writing a short story called the cynical warrior which was meant to cover a lot of the satire about life. the main character was meant to be faced with unsurmountable odds, challenging, grusome battles, and the brutalities of life. And those things were going to shape him into a cynic. And parallel to his life was meant to be a world where no one gave a shit. Where society was the worse demon of the two. Where the cynical warrior was holding up the world and no one cared. That was it. That describes my life from the time I was 17 to the time I was 22.
I don't tell to many people this, but I only served a 20 month LDS mission. I felt as though I was needed more at home than I was in the field, and so I requested my leave. I went through the proper channels and saw myself flying home on an airplane. I suppose deep down inside I just couldn't handle it. I still can't handle it. I was too mature for the kids in the mission. I couldn't handle being grouped with them by my mission president who knew nothing about me. I couldn't handle people younger than me, less intelligent than me, and more irresponsible than I was at the time telling me that I was being irresponsible, that I was stupid, that they were better than me somehow, and that they were the mature ones. Bullshit.
People tend to believe that because of my age, because of my experiences, because of a few ink blots on my canvas that I'm not the best ship in the fleet. I'm air tight, I'm fast, and I have the best damn captain aboard. But more importantly, I've got guts. I'm inspired. I'm motivated. I'm willing. and I haven't seen a battle that I didn't come out on top--even when I returned from my mission.
You see, I left on my mission to get away from the creeps my age. I left on my mission so that people would look up to me and I could get past all of the bullshit and just do what I want to do: help people. I left on a mission so that I could look beyond myself. You know what happened to me? I got put in a worse circumstance so that God would humble me. Boy was I humbled. I was frustrated all of the time. I lost a lot of sleep. I never felt like my body was working right. I was torn to shreds and chewed up and spit out. I went through hell and my face was planted on the mat several times until the bell rang and I was given a breif round break.
I learned plenty. I learned too much. I learned that I didn't want to learn any more, and yet here I am, still learning. still in school. Still stuck in a world where people don't recognize the makings that I see in myself. Still stuck in a world where I have to compete with lowlifes in order to survive. Still stuck in a world where I'm the bottom of the totem pole. Plenty of people haven't seen the things I have seen.
Most people are stuck eating lotus. They don't know anything. They don't see anything. They're just there. It's called hegemony. And it forces people into silly roles. Like to fear people who come off as intelligent and confident. To cast out the eccentric for making a few comments here and there. To avoid any workings of true greatness.
Damn, I feel like I'm the loser who can only complain about how no one is giving him a chance in life, and that if I ever got a chance I'm sure I would excel with it.But that's the thing about life. It always tries to screw you when your pants are down. When you're at your lowest it tries to mess with you and degrade you further. I never had a chance to stand up because I was always stuck with my face on the mat. I was always the "least" capable ship in the harbor.
...And yet somehow I keep going. I'm the llama among the sheep herd. The eagle among crows. Satan tries to keep me down and make me like the rest of them. But I -know- I'm different. I know I'm better than the rest of them. I know that my chance will come some day. I know that I want to do great things and I'm not going to stop until I get them.
This frustration I face. It's nothing. I'll get over it. I always do. I always get out of the pin, I don't tap out. When I came home from my mission, it wasn't that I had lost the battle. The war isn't over. That battle wasn't a loss. It was a win. I won that battle because I did everything I could do. I walked away in the proper manner. I learned from the experience. I walked away with my head high. I walked away because there were other people who needed my help. I walked away and I am better for it. I did not lose.
Mohammed Ali said once "I'ma show you, how great I am." --Well I'm going to do the same. Life has knocked me down several times.
Hell, what am I doing here? I'll be back when I have something successful to say....
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Curse
I keep getting this grand idea that I want to write about, but I don't have the time to write about it. And now that I have just a little bit of time, I don't have the idea to write about.
Of course there are a few things that I could write about. Like how I have 5 papers dues in the next 7 days. Or how I am advancing with a business idea that I think could change the world. Or how I launched my video series for Dating Zion, and I have all these grand ideas that I want to write about, yet I recently reached a point where I don't want to write about any of them, or at least not in the way I originally planned. There are article scheduled to launch already, but I'm not sure they're written in the way that they need to be.
The whole deal about this is that the way I write for Dating Zion has been as tender as possible. I don't want to offend anyone. I don't want people to think I'm a nut job for the things I say. I want them to actually use DZ instead of be repelled by it. I want it to change the world and get people to change their lives. But I don't think it's working out that way.
Dating Zion is too nice. It teaches people how to love, because most people don't know how to love. I know. I didn't. It took a shakeup to get me to realize that I was to blame and that it was time to learn this verb called love. But I think DZ's not what people want in this day and age. They say that Zion, pronounced another way, is Hev-on. And that it's antonym is hell, or sheol. I ought to make a Dating Sheol. I bet it would be quite successful. Probably the best site in Utah.
But I'm not a fence sitter. I couldn't do both. It's either DZ or DS, and I'd rather be known for DZ, even if the world isn't ready for love.
So just what DS be about? --It'd all be about giving people everything they want. Teach them what Lust is and what pleasure is. I'd teach people how to have AMAZING short term relationships and to give up morals. I'd tell people that Love wasn't necessary, but it could make your sex just a little better.
Yes. DS sounds like a good idea to me. And I'd teach guys and girls how to turn each other on--how the secret is to live in an in-between state where the person being turned on always questions whether they are going to get some action or not. It would be great fun, because that's all people care about.
They don't care about relationships. They just want to live in between horny and release. Why would they? Why would anyone want to have a relationship if every full moon they could find a kissing partner? Why would they if everyone else were in a mutual combination that they would aid them in maintaining balance between horny and release? Why would anyone care about anyone else if that person couldn't make them excited? Why would they care to cheer someone else up so that they'd stop drinking and smoking, when they themselves drank and smoke away their pains--It just turns sorrow into a party, and who doesn't love parties? --Makes you feel like you're important to be involved in a party. Gives you something to do. Hell, you could have a party every day and call it Sheol. But since you aren't dead yet we'll just call it lon, baby. "I love you baby, now let's go wed in lon on my bed.--They have a service every night." Oh, baby, lon's waiting. Let's go and be in Sheol.
No. I couldn't work for de devil that way. But enough fantasies.
I'm in the process of re-branding Dating Zion, I know where I would like to go, but I don't know how to get there. Basically, it seems chastizing people is the only way to go. Get them to feel horrible for doing things the way they do them. That's how preachers do it--they convince their members that they're wicked, and then get them all railed up and then convince them to donate to the church. That's the way to go.
<trail off trail off trail off>
Of course there are a few things that I could write about. Like how I have 5 papers dues in the next 7 days. Or how I am advancing with a business idea that I think could change the world. Or how I launched my video series for Dating Zion, and I have all these grand ideas that I want to write about, yet I recently reached a point where I don't want to write about any of them, or at least not in the way I originally planned. There are article scheduled to launch already, but I'm not sure they're written in the way that they need to be.
The whole deal about this is that the way I write for Dating Zion has been as tender as possible. I don't want to offend anyone. I don't want people to think I'm a nut job for the things I say. I want them to actually use DZ instead of be repelled by it. I want it to change the world and get people to change their lives. But I don't think it's working out that way.
Dating Zion is too nice. It teaches people how to love, because most people don't know how to love. I know. I didn't. It took a shakeup to get me to realize that I was to blame and that it was time to learn this verb called love. But I think DZ's not what people want in this day and age. They say that Zion, pronounced another way, is Hev-on. And that it's antonym is hell, or sheol. I ought to make a Dating Sheol. I bet it would be quite successful. Probably the best site in Utah.
But I'm not a fence sitter. I couldn't do both. It's either DZ or DS, and I'd rather be known for DZ, even if the world isn't ready for love.
So just what DS be about? --It'd all be about giving people everything they want. Teach them what Lust is and what pleasure is. I'd teach people how to have AMAZING short term relationships and to give up morals. I'd tell people that Love wasn't necessary, but it could make your sex just a little better.
Yes. DS sounds like a good idea to me. And I'd teach guys and girls how to turn each other on--how the secret is to live in an in-between state where the person being turned on always questions whether they are going to get some action or not. It would be great fun, because that's all people care about.
They don't care about relationships. They just want to live in between horny and release. Why would they? Why would anyone want to have a relationship if every full moon they could find a kissing partner? Why would they if everyone else were in a mutual combination that they would aid them in maintaining balance between horny and release? Why would anyone care about anyone else if that person couldn't make them excited? Why would they care to cheer someone else up so that they'd stop drinking and smoking, when they themselves drank and smoke away their pains--It just turns sorrow into a party, and who doesn't love parties? --Makes you feel like you're important to be involved in a party. Gives you something to do. Hell, you could have a party every day and call it Sheol. But since you aren't dead yet we'll just call it lon, baby. "I love you baby, now let's go wed in lon on my bed.--They have a service every night." Oh, baby, lon's waiting. Let's go and be in Sheol.
No. I couldn't work for de devil that way. But enough fantasies.
I'm in the process of re-branding Dating Zion, I know where I would like to go, but I don't know how to get there. Basically, it seems chastizing people is the only way to go. Get them to feel horrible for doing things the way they do them. That's how preachers do it--they convince their members that they're wicked, and then get them all railed up and then convince them to donate to the church. That's the way to go.
<trail off trail off trail off>
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