Just a mirror for the sun
scribbles about a commonplace existence.Archive for January, 2008
The shape of things to come.
Point being, there are two ways I see this going:
a) life has no meaning at all so you do whatever keeps you happy on an absolute level, and that usually doesn’t include random violence and disobeying social norms.
b) the only purpose you have is to find the meaning of life. it’s all hidden somewhere out there and you spend your life following your destiny. this is something Paulo Coelho has been trying to tell us all along, i believe.
either way, the whole jaded, nihilistic trip that tells me to kill myself or the utterly optimistic ‘life is amazing and God is the Almighty’ are not gonna work.
New Age Religion. Yay, for freedom of expression, faith, belief, etc. There’s not much you can think of that hasn’t been done, blogged about, packaged and sold before you arrived on the scene. And yet, the cliches work. We all fall for it because we willingly suspend disbelief and rational thought in the hope of a greater truth. It’s the reason the entertainment industry is one of the richest in the world – we all want to believe. But lately, believing is so passe. Object, rebel, don’t conform!
Personally, I don’t think faith is that awful. Life isn’t always a battle to see the who wins, it isn’t a competition to prove you’re better and it isn’t a reality tv show [took me a while to believe this one.] This isn’t some huge board game with your path charted out and your major decisions made before you start playing.
A friend told me that I’d learn more in the next two months without familiarity than I would with a whole year of comfort and I’m so glad I took his advice. What I have learnt is that everything repeats itself. Or atleast, if you’re looking for the patterns, they’re there. You leave this, start that, take a leap forward and a small step back and there you have it – your existence can be explained with an endless diatribe about the pointless details that you cling to for everyday normalcy or a couple of syllables loosely strung together about the fucking huge milestones.
A couple of observations on the Alchemist [since I've been forced to read it again]
- it is quite sexist. Not a single woman accomplishes anything of great import throughout. The only smart woman in the entire thing [there were only 3 mentioned anyway] was the gypsy who managed to get a decent portion of his wealth in the end. And even there, the woman was fair – she could have easily asked for half his wealth, but she only asked for ten percent of it. of the other two, the first didn’t do anything except listen to his stories and the second promised to wait for him with bewitching eyes. how amazingly amazing.
- it is so obviously loaded with cliches that scream at you from the pages that i nearly developed an awful headache by the end of it.
- it’s only redeeming quality is that it so easily provides parallels for everyday life that i find myself comparing at the oddest of times.
So yes, I really don’t like the book and it grates on my nerves but for 14 year olds that are convinced life is shit and that there’s no point in existence, [yes, that's how early the nihilists are these days. *sigh* they do catch them young] it is definitely worth reading.
There was a whole bunch of other things i wanted to talk about like music and books and everyday nonsense, but that will have to wait for tomorrow probably ’cause I’m really sleepy.
In a random side note:
There are times when I feel like I should be grateful for the things I’ve had the good fortune to experience and these times are few and far between. [not because I have little to be grateful for but rather because I rarely pay enough attention to be really grateful] One of them was recently, as I stood somewhere with people I barely knew and yelled at the top of my lungs for music and talent and things I still can’t comprehend. For those things, thank you.
Dear Jamie… Sincerely, Me.
Isn’t it tiring when people think they know you well enough to dismiss you after reading a few posts here and there? You’d think that people with such ‘potential’ and intelligence that they claim to have as well as all the hardships that they insist they’ve faced would be a little less judgmental, a little more accepting of other people’s fallacies. Especially when they don’t even know the people in question.
I may not always be the most optimistic person, but I truly pity those that consider themselves so jaded and superior to everyone else because they’ve apparently experienced more in life and hence know more than the rest of us mortals about the ways of the world. Like someone else said, I choose to live my life in as intense and emotional a manner as I see fit. Yes, I may be melodramatic, but we’re allowed to be what we want to be. Censure is truly taking over the world if people can’t write and throw it randomly into cyberspace without having some self-proclaimed know-it-all sit behind his little computer screen and refute every statement you make just so he can be right and you can be wrong. So you found a flaw. Big deal, want a cookie?
Is there so little joy left in this world that the only way to feel superior is to burrow away at other people’s work until you can create enough holes in it to please your tattered ego? Is no one allowed to have their own personal opinion without having someone jump down their throat about it? So we may not be that old, or that smart, or that experienced… atleast we live and let live. What can you do besides whine and gripe and reduce yourself to little sexist digs on an unknown blog in cyberspace?
Tired and cranky.
forgive me for the very angsty, hurt post that’s about to follow but one does need to vent now and then.
I’m just so fucking tired of always questioning myself when it comes to relationships. My immediate reaction to something going wrong is to blame myself and analyse every action of mine till I feel like complete, utter crap. For once I’m going to just stop and not think like that.
If people who are supposed to be closer to me than family won’t even bother finding out what’s wrong then I guess it just isn’t worth bothering to try and explain. Especially when everything I say is being judged and classified and used as proof of my so-called weird behaviour. These are the people that I’ve lived with and trusted more than anyone my entire life and if they can’t accept the person I am, then fuck it.
I guess I am messed up or whatever, but the least you guys could do is try and help my figure myself out instead of throwing me aside the minute I seemed even a little different from you.
I’m just tired of constantly checking if I’m right or wrong or even if it matters. So either you tell me where I stand or let me go so I can figure myself out on my own.
I’m just after a glimmer.
Losing is never fun. Losing a person, an object, an identity that you value or think holds all your emotions together is horribly like being thrown in a pool of cold water while being asleep. The only thing that makes it better, for me anyway, is movement. Run about, find a new purpose, decrease the importance of the old. Move, move, move. Find people, friends, lovers, acquaintances. Anything that doesn’t require thinking or feeling that horrible emptiness that suddenly hits you as you sink to the bottom before coming up for air. [A tad melodramatic perhaps, but allow me my moments of drama.]
Talking really doesn’t sort it out. Sympathy is hardly required. I’m really not eloquent, especially when it comes to emotions and whatnot. Sarcasm is so useful in these cases. Push away the people that want to tell you how sorry they are because accepting sympathy requires facing loss and one would rather not do that, right? Right.
I have no sad story that I wish to share, so friendship better not depend on me admitting weakness. That’s too frightening to contemplate. Why would I trust enough to tell you? What do you gain from the knowledge? These walls were created from past experience and they’re not dropping down at your whim and fancy.
Hush. Leave the silence be. Why must it always be filled with that noise? Where did you find all those words? Pick them up, sort them and compile them together. You talk and talk and I hear no sound. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what that word means. Language is so difficult to comprehend. Meaning changes; intentions lie in a tangled heap on the floor. I no longer understand anyone.
As if I ever did.
