It feels powerful to be motivated, to have the desire of yearning for something more; believing that this is not it, that there must be more to it than this; I must be able to have more, experience more, acquire more, and be more.
Simultaneously, some say that it’s silly because we’re always “looking for gold while sitting on diamonds”; what’s more, what is right in front of you could be that “something” which you’ve been searching everywhere for, dripping sweat and blood, it just hasn’t hit you yet.
So how do you know? How do you know when to hold on because that is the something you’ve been looking for while being unaware of this fact, and you’d better hold on to it? But how do you know when to let go because there’s something more out there, and therefore it is okay to let this be part of your past?
When you’re on your way to something greater—qualitatively and quantitatively speaking—you know you’re going to have completely different thoughts in the future; perhaps you’ll even transform to a completely different person. Then, what you want and what makes you happy will change as well, and you will most likely not want what you have right now, or perhaps even what you are happy with, right now.
I think that is a frightening thought; more horrid when you know it’s going to happen.
Torn between holding onto what you’re happy with right now and something that you believe you must pursue; all of a sudden, it’s like your entire future is flashing before you. That choice, or rather, being certain about having to leave your old self behind for the supposedly better self, was probably once exciting but now terrifying for it being so much of a matter of fact, of certainty.
You may start questioning if you really want to desire something different from what you desire now. However, the crucial part here is the word “desire”; in the future, you are going to desire something different from now, which means by then, you don’t want what you have right now because it is no longer what you want, it is almost as if it won’t be enough—this is the scariest; to know that you’ll want something completely different from what you treasure the most at this very moment, this very endearment that you hold on to. To know that such endearment in which you believe so much in, in which you have attached every sense of your being, will be out of the question, out of your own mind, in the near future.
I’m so very terrified.
When it all comes down to the end, is it predetermined, is it part of His plan, is it chance, or is it a matter of choice, of what we become, what we have, what we hold on to, and what we desire?
Do I want diamonds or gold, and do I have to make a decision now?
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
I've been roaming around
This is one of those nights.
You feel cranky, a bit sick (physically and of just about everything), not in the mood to work at all. You don’t mind loud music, but you don’t realize that you actually want some—in fact, need some—until you hear some; even trashy music would work. Or maybe after all, you just want to be by yourself for just one bit?
Riding in the most ghetto manual truck in which no radio is installed, having music played out loud on a speaker in the back. Driving past this hippy street with these great restaurants that I have only been to once or twice, but have probably mentioned over five times, because there is no time. No time for good things. Singing and lyrics in the background, I looked out the window as we were zooming by everything. All these shops that are familiar, but they don’t mean much to me. I thought about life, people, the good times in another country... I thought this: “I want to be somebody”.
In this sphere of reality, so hard to find something that you truly indulge in doing, some form of ambition. Realistically, when you finally find it (and I have to emphasize finally because once it’s discovered, the more you think about it, the more you see how precious it is), you may learn to see the obstacles that are in the way—one by one—of where you genuinely want to reach. The dream is in your mind; so clear, so close, yet so far.
I’m walking on a path piled up with all these things that are supposedly leading me there. I’m thinking to myself: “There’s nothing that I want to do more than this.” and I’m walking and walking, sometimes running, I don’t even see the blurred frame of this temporary destination.
I fathom: we are lovable because we are fragile and weak at times.
When this temporary destination feels so foolishly far far away, I just want to wander wishfully and wonderfully. It is at times like this when I see how it is like to enjoy life as tasting good wine. They are right, it is the process that counts and that is the most delightful and real. Yet we often lose sight on our way there, too blinded with all the requirements and expectations; we get lost instead of wandering.
Don’t forget what life is and don’t forget about it.
You feel cranky, a bit sick (physically and of just about everything), not in the mood to work at all. You don’t mind loud music, but you don’t realize that you actually want some—in fact, need some—until you hear some; even trashy music would work. Or maybe after all, you just want to be by yourself for just one bit?
Riding in the most ghetto manual truck in which no radio is installed, having music played out loud on a speaker in the back. Driving past this hippy street with these great restaurants that I have only been to once or twice, but have probably mentioned over five times, because there is no time. No time for good things. Singing and lyrics in the background, I looked out the window as we were zooming by everything. All these shops that are familiar, but they don’t mean much to me. I thought about life, people, the good times in another country... I thought this: “I want to be somebody”.
In this sphere of reality, so hard to find something that you truly indulge in doing, some form of ambition. Realistically, when you finally find it (and I have to emphasize finally because once it’s discovered, the more you think about it, the more you see how precious it is), you may learn to see the obstacles that are in the way—one by one—of where you genuinely want to reach. The dream is in your mind; so clear, so close, yet so far.
I’m walking on a path piled up with all these things that are supposedly leading me there. I’m thinking to myself: “There’s nothing that I want to do more than this.” and I’m walking and walking, sometimes running, I don’t even see the blurred frame of this temporary destination.
I fathom: we are lovable because we are fragile and weak at times.
When this temporary destination feels so foolishly far far away, I just want to wander wishfully and wonderfully. It is at times like this when I see how it is like to enjoy life as tasting good wine. They are right, it is the process that counts and that is the most delightful and real. Yet we often lose sight on our way there, too blinded with all the requirements and expectations; we get lost instead of wandering.
Don’t forget what life is and don’t forget about it.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Poignant and Beautiful
You know what happens when you love someone too much? It gets chaotic; miserably, paradoxically, unfortunately chaotic.
Between family members, romantic partners... when you love the other too much, the expression of love fails to deliver properly; it comes out twisted, it becomes demented. It turns out in a way that is not how you wanted to show your love, but because it passes the line (oh, that line), it becomes a form of love as if it were possessed, and it no longer serves its purpose.
When a relationship reaches this point, it does so gradually, without you even realizing it. You eventually see how distorted the relationship has become, but most sadly, there is nothing you can do to save it, for love does not work like that. You love the other so much to the point where you lose the grip, and become a maniac. The love is so strong, but paradoxically, it is driving the two apart, pushing each other further and further away—I think, this is the most heartbreaking end that one can put to a relationship.
You gotta do it right, you really gotta do it right.
Between family members, romantic partners... when you love the other too much, the expression of love fails to deliver properly; it comes out twisted, it becomes demented. It turns out in a way that is not how you wanted to show your love, but because it passes the line (oh, that line), it becomes a form of love as if it were possessed, and it no longer serves its purpose.
When a relationship reaches this point, it does so gradually, without you even realizing it. You eventually see how distorted the relationship has become, but most sadly, there is nothing you can do to save it, for love does not work like that. You love the other so much to the point where you lose the grip, and become a maniac. The love is so strong, but paradoxically, it is driving the two apart, pushing each other further and further away—I think, this is the most heartbreaking end that one can put to a relationship.
You gotta do it right, you really gotta do it right.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
The Cotton Bag
Today, I purchased a cotton shoulder bag with block printed patterns on it.
It took me a while before deciding to make this purchase, mostly because I figured a cotton bag wouldn’t be anything special, plus it’s not like I have so much spare money on my hand.
I must make a confession too: the image of an Indian (well, it’s an Indian lady in my head) manufacturing this bag was always in the back of my mind; she probably sold it to the guy who was now selling it to me for 3 times less the price than how much I paid him for it.
And of course, all the vague knowledge about free trade was also flowing in the back of my mind. It bothered me a tiny bit more when he told me, honestly I guess, that it wasn’t free trade between him and those Indian families, but “there are so many corruptions in India, it’s kinda sad...really sad actually”.
Well, I bought the bag at the end, nonetheless.
I think I despise myself a little for it, for paying this man for some poor Indian lady’s labor. But here’s the thing,
there’s the distinct smell of this bag that I couldn’t really resist.
When I first smelt it, I had to stop and recollect my thoughts for a bit to come to recognition of this smell. This distinct, and almost nostalgic smell.
It’s the smell of paint—not the paint that you paint houses or walls with, but paints that we, well, play with, in arts class in kindergarten and elementary school. The smell is very similar to black ink too.
Ever since then, the smell was stuck, in me. You see, I have to even write about it.
You might think “yea, she’s gonna say that the smell brings back memories and all that”...well, that’s the thing, I don’t have much memory of me and the paint with this smell, I don’t even know what type of paint it is. In fact, I am not even certain that it is actually from the type of paint that I used to make arts with when I was small. But that smell is so distinct, so familiar, yet our encounter seems to be from literally ages ago. The smell is so familiar and cozy to the point where I feel like I have just retrieved some important part of myself from beneath my consciousness. How can this be, when I don’t even recall having any special experiences with this paint, or whatever it is? How can something feel so dear to me when I never had a deep relationship with it, or when I never made any significant accomplishment with it? Even if it is the paint that I used when I was in kindergarten, but it is nothing so significant like I continued with a passion of painting till now, nor have I made any nice artwork with this paint that I still have in possession right now. Yet this smell... is so imprinted somewhere in my heart.
I couldn’t resist it for the smell is so endearing and familiar, but so enigmatic at the same time.
Then I came to realize, there are so many things like this—a one-way fascination—that I have towards other things that I barely have any real relationship with.
Other than towards some exceptionally attractive individuals, I would say that this applies to my fantasy towards my ambitions, dreams, favourite places(the interesting part is, some of them I have never even been to, or have only been to once) too, in which I haven’t made much of an impact with yet, but they are so special and darling to me that it’s like I have a special place in my heart for them.
At some point, I have come down to feeling a little silly, because this form of fantasy almost parallels with a little girl’s craze towards her idol celebrity; trivial also, because I am relating myself to something so fantastic, yet it has nothing, really, to do with me, or what I have done.
That sense of insignificance, worthlessness...
The description of my feelings towards the particular smell from my newly purchased cotton bag can illustrate my similar feeling towards God.
I haven’t offered, or done much. By saying this, I even feel a little bit more worthless. But here’s the wonder and beauty of it all: God might be a stranger to you, and you might feel as if you were a stranger to Him as well, but once you really step in forward, even just a little more, take a sniff, all of a sudden it’ll become so clear and so familiar. It might feel strange and clueless at first, just like that mysterious smell of my bag, but that closeness that I feel with this smell is just irresistible, and so is Him. The difference lies in how God in turn makes me feel: even though I feel worthless as me, as a human being, and for the fact that I haven’t done anything for Him, but in return, He immediately grants me with all the worthiness I need to feel from the world.
Well, that was my story of the cotton bag, nothing crazy.
It took me a while before deciding to make this purchase, mostly because I figured a cotton bag wouldn’t be anything special, plus it’s not like I have so much spare money on my hand.
I must make a confession too: the image of an Indian (well, it’s an Indian lady in my head) manufacturing this bag was always in the back of my mind; she probably sold it to the guy who was now selling it to me for 3 times less the price than how much I paid him for it.
And of course, all the vague knowledge about free trade was also flowing in the back of my mind. It bothered me a tiny bit more when he told me, honestly I guess, that it wasn’t free trade between him and those Indian families, but “there are so many corruptions in India, it’s kinda sad...really sad actually”.
Well, I bought the bag at the end, nonetheless.
I think I despise myself a little for it, for paying this man for some poor Indian lady’s labor. But here’s the thing,
there’s the distinct smell of this bag that I couldn’t really resist.
When I first smelt it, I had to stop and recollect my thoughts for a bit to come to recognition of this smell. This distinct, and almost nostalgic smell.
It’s the smell of paint—not the paint that you paint houses or walls with, but paints that we, well, play with, in arts class in kindergarten and elementary school. The smell is very similar to black ink too.
Ever since then, the smell was stuck, in me. You see, I have to even write about it.
You might think “yea, she’s gonna say that the smell brings back memories and all that”...well, that’s the thing, I don’t have much memory of me and the paint with this smell, I don’t even know what type of paint it is. In fact, I am not even certain that it is actually from the type of paint that I used to make arts with when I was small. But that smell is so distinct, so familiar, yet our encounter seems to be from literally ages ago. The smell is so familiar and cozy to the point where I feel like I have just retrieved some important part of myself from beneath my consciousness. How can this be, when I don’t even recall having any special experiences with this paint, or whatever it is? How can something feel so dear to me when I never had a deep relationship with it, or when I never made any significant accomplishment with it? Even if it is the paint that I used when I was in kindergarten, but it is nothing so significant like I continued with a passion of painting till now, nor have I made any nice artwork with this paint that I still have in possession right now. Yet this smell... is so imprinted somewhere in my heart.
I couldn’t resist it for the smell is so endearing and familiar, but so enigmatic at the same time.
Then I came to realize, there are so many things like this—a one-way fascination—that I have towards other things that I barely have any real relationship with.
Other than towards some exceptionally attractive individuals, I would say that this applies to my fantasy towards my ambitions, dreams, favourite places(the interesting part is, some of them I have never even been to, or have only been to once) too, in which I haven’t made much of an impact with yet, but they are so special and darling to me that it’s like I have a special place in my heart for them.
At some point, I have come down to feeling a little silly, because this form of fantasy almost parallels with a little girl’s craze towards her idol celebrity; trivial also, because I am relating myself to something so fantastic, yet it has nothing, really, to do with me, or what I have done.
That sense of insignificance, worthlessness...
The description of my feelings towards the particular smell from my newly purchased cotton bag can illustrate my similar feeling towards God.
I haven’t offered, or done much. By saying this, I even feel a little bit more worthless. But here’s the wonder and beauty of it all: God might be a stranger to you, and you might feel as if you were a stranger to Him as well, but once you really step in forward, even just a little more, take a sniff, all of a sudden it’ll become so clear and so familiar. It might feel strange and clueless at first, just like that mysterious smell of my bag, but that closeness that I feel with this smell is just irresistible, and so is Him. The difference lies in how God in turn makes me feel: even though I feel worthless as me, as a human being, and for the fact that I haven’t done anything for Him, but in return, He immediately grants me with all the worthiness I need to feel from the world.
Well, that was my story of the cotton bag, nothing crazy.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
run free
“But I see what the trouble is: I keep drifting towards that error because my mind likes to wander freely, refusing to respect the boundaries that truth lays down. Very well, then; I shall let it run free for a while, so that when the time comes to rein it in it won’t be so resistant to being pulled back.”
We don’t realize how many things originate from what we consider philosophical abstracts. They are not just mad men’s words or theories in lack of conclusions or so-called solutions, but entrances to imagination and wonder.
Having gone to several Epistemology classes, I’m not going to be silly and say that we have a lot of knowledge or certainty about worldly things, but I say that we assume a lot, and i mean, a lot a lot.
Hume claims this: we, as humans, derive the “knowledge” of cause and effect from constant conjunction of things. In other words, we don’t really know what causes the effects, we only see things happening in a pattern of subsequences.
Due to social constructs, responsibilities, parents, reputation, and just people... we often see ourselves strangled in a position where we feel contradiction because what we might feel does not match with what we “should” feel. We carry the baggage of guilt but simultaneously put on some sort of disguise to survive. Now, how many people truly know if how they feel or what they do is naturally and purely what they feel and what they want to do, but not a practiced response?
Don’t panic, I am not looking for an answer.
But I do have a suggestion: how about just let your unconscious take you and feel what you feel, do what you do.
For once, let your mind run completely free;
fuck the rules,
shut out your ears from listening to what they are saying,
and just live your life.
Forget all the should’s and should-not’s, you don’t have to feel sad, you don’t have to feel bad, you don’t have to go through that mandatory breakdown. For the sake of cliche routine, sometimes it’s just overdue and only necessary because we think it is necessary.
There is this thing that our magical unconsciousness does, it’s called deliberation-without-awareness. Apparently, when we are faced with difficult things to deal with, and we push them to the back of our minds in order to not get stressed out over them, our unconsciousness is dealing with them when we consciously aren’t. So after a while, we might be able to produce a calm decision, or even come to receiving an epiphany.
It’s not selfish, it’s a humane and sinful way of coping.
This probably sounds so vague and incomprehensible at the moment, but when you finally come down to a point where you no longer even pay attention to how you are dealing with some things, that might be when you realize you’ve been running free for a while already. You discover how good it feels, and how silly you have been.
We don’t realize how many things originate from what we consider philosophical abstracts. They are not just mad men’s words or theories in lack of conclusions or so-called solutions, but entrances to imagination and wonder.
Having gone to several Epistemology classes, I’m not going to be silly and say that we have a lot of knowledge or certainty about worldly things, but I say that we assume a lot, and i mean, a lot a lot.
Hume claims this: we, as humans, derive the “knowledge” of cause and effect from constant conjunction of things. In other words, we don’t really know what causes the effects, we only see things happening in a pattern of subsequences.
Due to social constructs, responsibilities, parents, reputation, and just people... we often see ourselves strangled in a position where we feel contradiction because what we might feel does not match with what we “should” feel. We carry the baggage of guilt but simultaneously put on some sort of disguise to survive. Now, how many people truly know if how they feel or what they do is naturally and purely what they feel and what they want to do, but not a practiced response?
Don’t panic, I am not looking for an answer.
But I do have a suggestion: how about just let your unconscious take you and feel what you feel, do what you do.
For once, let your mind run completely free;
fuck the rules,
shut out your ears from listening to what they are saying,
and just live your life.
Forget all the should’s and should-not’s, you don’t have to feel sad, you don’t have to feel bad, you don’t have to go through that mandatory breakdown. For the sake of cliche routine, sometimes it’s just overdue and only necessary because we think it is necessary.
There is this thing that our magical unconsciousness does, it’s called deliberation-without-awareness. Apparently, when we are faced with difficult things to deal with, and we push them to the back of our minds in order to not get stressed out over them, our unconsciousness is dealing with them when we consciously aren’t. So after a while, we might be able to produce a calm decision, or even come to receiving an epiphany.
It’s not selfish, it’s a humane and sinful way of coping.
This probably sounds so vague and incomprehensible at the moment, but when you finally come down to a point where you no longer even pay attention to how you are dealing with some things, that might be when you realize you’ve been running free for a while already. You discover how good it feels, and how silly you have been.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Praise Anyway
What is love—a sense of emotion and passion...an affirmation, or what, or what is it?
I love her, she loves me, but neither of us feels loved.
Then what? What is missing? What is lacking? What is not working?
Family
What does this word mean, really?
What does it mean to those who don’t have a complete family, to those who are not familiar with this idealized concept, to those who simply don’t feel the sense of union in this alien-like yet so mandatory and important basis of life, of God’s creation?
Time tells a lot, yes it does.
After years, for people to realize the betrayal and emptiness that exist,
may I just ask, how messed up is this?
It’s almost like we are forced to not only acknowledge, but always keep in mind of the fact that we are all separate individuals. Because by sticking this needle of truth into our blood, we will be saved from hurting so badly at the end.
The unfortunate news is not just cruelty in wars, in evil, in crimes, but also that inhumanity is more than a slight chance of thought within a family.
However, I was deeply taught and inspired to always praise Him, not just for happiness and goodness, but through pain as well; the sadness might seem so much more dominant than the gratitude, I might be fooling myself that I am indeed grateful, but I know He deserves to be praised, anyway.
I love her, she loves me, but neither of us feels loved.
Then what? What is missing? What is lacking? What is not working?
Family
What does this word mean, really?
What does it mean to those who don’t have a complete family, to those who are not familiar with this idealized concept, to those who simply don’t feel the sense of union in this alien-like yet so mandatory and important basis of life, of God’s creation?
Time tells a lot, yes it does.
After years, for people to realize the betrayal and emptiness that exist,
may I just ask, how messed up is this?
It’s almost like we are forced to not only acknowledge, but always keep in mind of the fact that we are all separate individuals. Because by sticking this needle of truth into our blood, we will be saved from hurting so badly at the end.
The unfortunate news is not just cruelty in wars, in evil, in crimes, but also that inhumanity is more than a slight chance of thought within a family.
However, I was deeply taught and inspired to always praise Him, not just for happiness and goodness, but through pain as well; the sadness might seem so much more dominant than the gratitude, I might be fooling myself that I am indeed grateful, but I know He deserves to be praised, anyway.
Friday, July 23, 2010
So Mesmerized
Learning so much these days—
perhaps it’s the physical pain that helps reflect how much more heartaches hurt.
We have to find a balance in everything; this is more true than anything you’ll ever hear.
This is easier than said, especially when you think it only applies to the sphere of lifestyle. It’s not; it’s about everything that you can imagine.
Often, we are so focused on one thing and the rest becomes less important, obsolete, unnecessary, or even just out of the picture, as if it is transparent. Often, we do not realize that resembles a form of obsession.
I was mesmerized by one of the most extravagant invention—fireworks. It just captures me and forces me to acknowledge its beauty and irresistibility. You see, the natural landscapes are just as amazing as these artificial fireworks. However, landscapes are just always there quietly—unpretentious, humble, and loving. When I was completely head over heels about fireworks, couldn’t do anything else but admire them, it was then my eyes were open to beauty that exists outside of my circle of focus.
Often, I am either too busy being in love with or too occupied missing someone something, that I entirely walk by something so amazing without even giving it a glance, just like that. At the same time, I become too possessive with what I am in love with, or I turn so depressive with what I am missing, that I am incapable of noticing anything else around me—not even God’s beautiful work of nature that stays in its position at all times; just like that, silently being there for us.
I think what I mean by take a balance, in this case, is if we were able to love or think about someone something, to a certain degree, then spend the rest of our attention on being grateful for what we have, for what is there for us, for what is so beautiful that it does not deserve anything to be neglected, then the love and heartaches would not be so overwhelming; then we will finally see that there is always something that is worthwhile of thinking about, worthy of pouring all those emotions and effort into, just as much, or even more.
perhaps it’s the physical pain that helps reflect how much more heartaches hurt.
We have to find a balance in everything; this is more true than anything you’ll ever hear.
This is easier than said, especially when you think it only applies to the sphere of lifestyle. It’s not; it’s about everything that you can imagine.
Often, we are so focused on one thing and the rest becomes less important, obsolete, unnecessary, or even just out of the picture, as if it is transparent. Often, we do not realize that resembles a form of obsession.
I was mesmerized by one of the most extravagant invention—fireworks. It just captures me and forces me to acknowledge its beauty and irresistibility. You see, the natural landscapes are just as amazing as these artificial fireworks. However, landscapes are just always there quietly—unpretentious, humble, and loving. When I was completely head over heels about fireworks, couldn’t do anything else but admire them, it was then my eyes were open to beauty that exists outside of my circle of focus.
Often, I am either too busy being in love with or too occupied missing someone something, that I entirely walk by something so amazing without even giving it a glance, just like that. At the same time, I become too possessive with what I am in love with, or I turn so depressive with what I am missing, that I am incapable of noticing anything else around me—not even God’s beautiful work of nature that stays in its position at all times; just like that, silently being there for us.
I think what I mean by take a balance, in this case, is if we were able to love or think about someone something, to a certain degree, then spend the rest of our attention on being grateful for what we have, for what is there for us, for what is so beautiful that it does not deserve anything to be neglected, then the love and heartaches would not be so overwhelming; then we will finally see that there is always something that is worthwhile of thinking about, worthy of pouring all those emotions and effort into, just as much, or even more.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
We need some controversy
I’m sure everyone wants to believe in the good side of people and things. Saying “everyone” will most likely bring criticism upon this generalized statement. However, the fact that this statement could be criticized as a generalization already gets my point across: we, as humans, are afraid of the cruelty of reality—the unknown, the unexpected, the corrupted, the crippled, the unwanted.
It’s very interesting; criticism about generalizations on positive regards is a way of bringing reminder, almost like an instinct of ours, of the imperfection to everything and identifying the naivety in those who make such generalizations. On the other hand, criticism about generalizations on negative regards, simultaneously, seems like our way of self-persuasion that there is goodness somewhere among this imperfect world. So after all...or fundamentally, are we good or evil? Is chaos bound to be a part of life? Well, we are afraid to identify the general as “evil”, yet we are unsure to say that the general is “good”.
Why does it matter anyway? Might as well decide that some are great and some can be better, or one can be good and evil at different times; might as well call these extreme measurements of values like good and evil generalizations, and accept the grand variety and variability.
I like variety and variability, but what should I believe in now? What is to be trusted and what’s not? What about boundaries and limits? Do they still exist? Are they still around? Can’t really see them no more.
For example, when I’m told that I’m a different, special girl, am I supposed to take these compliments as a form of sweet talk? Because guys say them so much that, ironically, such special and genuine-sounding comments have lost their worthiness to be thought of as sincere. I’d love to believe them, the pretty side to sweet talk, in which there is a chance that they may be truthful. At the same time, I’m scared of getting hurt from them because I’m aware of the bad side to sweet talk—the cruelty of reality—that there are people who are capable of saying all sorts of things that they do not mean, despite my uncertainty on that and my desire to believe in the wonder of sweet talk.
This is open-brain surgery for you all, displaying the process to girls’ habit of over-thinking.
Same concept, different level: what about hope? People always say, “have hope”, “never lose hope”. I think that is almost equivalent to identifying the wrong in generalizations about negative matter; we want to believe in the good side to everything, and to ultimately make ourselves feel better about ourselves, about what’s going on around us. The notion of hope is self-explanatory of this concept, and it is also a very psychological trick.
The problem now comes to the fact that reality does not allow us to never lose hope. Then to what extent should we, could we, hold hope up to before the threshold of getting hit by pure unfortunateness, bad timing, or the unknown and the unwanted—the regularity of reality? Or is that the lesson we are supposed to be learning: having hope, lose hope, and being able to pick it back up again? The whole cycle, as we often call it “learning from experience”, then is essentially a form of self-comfort. We want to believe in the good side of things, and probably ourselves.
Then, is it physically possible to see past our own psychology, delusions, hopes, and the ups and downs of reality? I believe that because we enjoy the excitement of hope, the mockery in sweet talks, the ecstasy in believing in the good side to things that we would even call it as a process of “learning” when prediction fails...because we like controversy and variability, I don’t see the motivation for one to reach that state of mind without such comforting thoughts among chaos.
It’s very interesting; criticism about generalizations on positive regards is a way of bringing reminder, almost like an instinct of ours, of the imperfection to everything and identifying the naivety in those who make such generalizations. On the other hand, criticism about generalizations on negative regards, simultaneously, seems like our way of self-persuasion that there is goodness somewhere among this imperfect world. So after all...or fundamentally, are we good or evil? Is chaos bound to be a part of life? Well, we are afraid to identify the general as “evil”, yet we are unsure to say that the general is “good”.
Why does it matter anyway? Might as well decide that some are great and some can be better, or one can be good and evil at different times; might as well call these extreme measurements of values like good and evil generalizations, and accept the grand variety and variability.
I like variety and variability, but what should I believe in now? What is to be trusted and what’s not? What about boundaries and limits? Do they still exist? Are they still around? Can’t really see them no more.
For example, when I’m told that I’m a different, special girl, am I supposed to take these compliments as a form of sweet talk? Because guys say them so much that, ironically, such special and genuine-sounding comments have lost their worthiness to be thought of as sincere. I’d love to believe them, the pretty side to sweet talk, in which there is a chance that they may be truthful. At the same time, I’m scared of getting hurt from them because I’m aware of the bad side to sweet talk—the cruelty of reality—that there are people who are capable of saying all sorts of things that they do not mean, despite my uncertainty on that and my desire to believe in the wonder of sweet talk.
This is open-brain surgery for you all, displaying the process to girls’ habit of over-thinking.
Same concept, different level: what about hope? People always say, “have hope”, “never lose hope”. I think that is almost equivalent to identifying the wrong in generalizations about negative matter; we want to believe in the good side to everything, and to ultimately make ourselves feel better about ourselves, about what’s going on around us. The notion of hope is self-explanatory of this concept, and it is also a very psychological trick.
The problem now comes to the fact that reality does not allow us to never lose hope. Then to what extent should we, could we, hold hope up to before the threshold of getting hit by pure unfortunateness, bad timing, or the unknown and the unwanted—the regularity of reality? Or is that the lesson we are supposed to be learning: having hope, lose hope, and being able to pick it back up again? The whole cycle, as we often call it “learning from experience”, then is essentially a form of self-comfort. We want to believe in the good side of things, and probably ourselves.
Then, is it physically possible to see past our own psychology, delusions, hopes, and the ups and downs of reality? I believe that because we enjoy the excitement of hope, the mockery in sweet talks, the ecstasy in believing in the good side to things that we would even call it as a process of “learning” when prediction fails...because we like controversy and variability, I don’t see the motivation for one to reach that state of mind without such comforting thoughts among chaos.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
tonight
its a restless night,
eat macaroni and cheese out of the pot, on the doorsteps, at 1 30am with a high/drunken friend,
share scary stories, then realize my stories are like the mosquitos flying around compared to my friend’s, in which she almost got killed by 3 bears, or something like that.
don’t close the front door,
watch a tailless dog walk by, and listen to coyotes,
feel the irony, and maybe a bit of fear, as i have my comfortable and perfectly safe home behind me and yet, i can almost visualize the bloody, cruel nature right in front of me—the image in front of me, like it’s going to collapse and overwhelm me.
go lie down on the walkway right in front of my house with my friend while she smokes, inevitably take in some secondhand smoke myself, but not forgetting to enjoy God’s masterpiece—the stars that decorate the dark sky, the unbelievably evenly laid out clouds that take up a perfect portion of the sky, the tips and edges of the outline of the trees.
then guess if the clouds are moving to the left or the right,
and imagine what the stars look like, if i could see them more close-up,
stare at one star, and watch it twinkle.
feel a sense of self-consciousness when cars drive by, just a few steps away from where our heads lie, wonder if any of those front light spots us, there, lying on the floor at 2 30 in the morning.
realize how foolish and contradictive of it is to feel self-conscious while doing something that requires the minimal level of conscience.
just let loose a bit, lose the self consciousness, lose the rules, the norms, the sleepiness, the metabolism, the exercise...
leave some people out of my mind, leave myself in bed, and just breathe.
eat macaroni and cheese out of the pot, on the doorsteps, at 1 30am with a high/drunken friend,
share scary stories, then realize my stories are like the mosquitos flying around compared to my friend’s, in which she almost got killed by 3 bears, or something like that.
don’t close the front door,
watch a tailless dog walk by, and listen to coyotes,
feel the irony, and maybe a bit of fear, as i have my comfortable and perfectly safe home behind me and yet, i can almost visualize the bloody, cruel nature right in front of me—the image in front of me, like it’s going to collapse and overwhelm me.
go lie down on the walkway right in front of my house with my friend while she smokes, inevitably take in some secondhand smoke myself, but not forgetting to enjoy God’s masterpiece—the stars that decorate the dark sky, the unbelievably evenly laid out clouds that take up a perfect portion of the sky, the tips and edges of the outline of the trees.
then guess if the clouds are moving to the left or the right,
and imagine what the stars look like, if i could see them more close-up,
stare at one star, and watch it twinkle.
feel a sense of self-consciousness when cars drive by, just a few steps away from where our heads lie, wonder if any of those front light spots us, there, lying on the floor at 2 30 in the morning.
realize how foolish and contradictive of it is to feel self-conscious while doing something that requires the minimal level of conscience.
just let loose a bit, lose the self consciousness, lose the rules, the norms, the sleepiness, the metabolism, the exercise...
leave some people out of my mind, leave myself in bed, and just breathe.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Omission, Displacement, or Simply Delusion?
No matter what others tell you, relationship is something between two, and only two people.
Yes—there are families, different backgrounds, cultures, religious beliefs, weird habits... all these factors can be a bitch that affects a relationship, but it is ultimately something special between two people. Others might ask you, what’s so good about this guy? Or, why are you with her? You can try all you can to explain what you like about your significant other or what’s so “good” about him/her, but your audience will never fully understand what really attracts you two together; it’s just something so abstract that is almost tacit, almost unexplainable. That unique something, is what I hold onto; not how cute or how successful he is, but that spark—that chemistry.
Around two weeks ago, I had an epiphany at 3am in the morning. I was having an argument with my boyfriend over jealousy. He tried hard to explain what I questioned him, and I became more exhausted while solving his misunderstanding for the millionth time. As my frustration built up, I suddenly realized how crippled verbal communication is. I saw that whatever I was trying to explain was nowhere near his comprehension, but neither was his explanation reaching my understanding. I stopped and listened, I could finally sensed beyond how annoyed he was of me—regardless of how close we are, we are always two individuals with separate minds. I believe this to be a fact, not a form of pessimism; a fact which if embraced, enhancement in independence takes place. It is not asking one to not feel as emotional attached to another, but detaching oneself from trying so hard to achieve the impossible challenge of merging two minds into one, making his life yours, your point of view his, to the point of exhaustion and where one can no longer recognize himself. Yes, relationship is between two people, but relationship is still a connection that exists in linkage of two individuals, who each has his/her own life. It will only lead to tragic ending if one tries to combine everything into one person’s capacity.
What about marriage? Isn’t marriage a symbol of love and union?
The truth is, marriage is the biggest test of commitment. Romantic love is indeed ideal, but marriage is a social construction. What are married people subconsciously proving, compared to the couples who shared their lives together, forever, without any papers signed?
Sometimes marriage seems like the finish line in the race of relationship. Most of the times people forget how holy marriage is, forget about what commitment and promises are. Sharing a home, sharing responsibility for their children, sharing everything. It is supposed to be something to die for, yet we are never satisfied with what we have; your life becomes ours, still, we yearn for what we don’t have. Marriage and union, is it still possible for one to be an “individual” in this concept?
Some choose not to get married, not to have children. Reasons could be to avoid the lost of romance, to prevent having to raise children in the modern values and media. But most prominent of all reasons, is it simply a refusal to carry any responsibilities and commitment? Is it an indirect representation of our id or the child inside of us—the desire to be free, to be on our own, to just do whatever we want to do, whenever we want?
I do not believe this to solely apply to cases involving romance and love, it is just like how we are aware of many problems that are always present. Problems with family, friends, boyfriend/girlfriend etc. that occur due to the discrepancy in your way of doing things and thinking from theirs. After many attempts of making things better, we often seem to subconsciously avoid talking about the issues, and begin to do things for ourselves without considering their feelings. It is possible that we realize we need to stand on our grounds, and that sometimes we just cannot do what we want to do with the consideration of others as a primary factor. The notion of omission—oh how good it feels—omitting conflicts against your will, almost completely excluding the guilt from not worrying about others.
The act of not being so attached to one’s lover, the life without marriage or children, the reasoning of doing ourselves justice.. ultimately, are these all just a form of omission of troubles, loads of thinking, commitment, and responsibilities? Are we displacing them with our own logic and theory, some sort of rationalization?
and really, who is to say marriage is the best way to go, and not having any commitment is just a childish act of avoiding responsibilities?
Yes—there are families, different backgrounds, cultures, religious beliefs, weird habits... all these factors can be a bitch that affects a relationship, but it is ultimately something special between two people. Others might ask you, what’s so good about this guy? Or, why are you with her? You can try all you can to explain what you like about your significant other or what’s so “good” about him/her, but your audience will never fully understand what really attracts you two together; it’s just something so abstract that is almost tacit, almost unexplainable. That unique something, is what I hold onto; not how cute or how successful he is, but that spark—that chemistry.
Around two weeks ago, I had an epiphany at 3am in the morning. I was having an argument with my boyfriend over jealousy. He tried hard to explain what I questioned him, and I became more exhausted while solving his misunderstanding for the millionth time. As my frustration built up, I suddenly realized how crippled verbal communication is. I saw that whatever I was trying to explain was nowhere near his comprehension, but neither was his explanation reaching my understanding. I stopped and listened, I could finally sensed beyond how annoyed he was of me—regardless of how close we are, we are always two individuals with separate minds. I believe this to be a fact, not a form of pessimism; a fact which if embraced, enhancement in independence takes place. It is not asking one to not feel as emotional attached to another, but detaching oneself from trying so hard to achieve the impossible challenge of merging two minds into one, making his life yours, your point of view his, to the point of exhaustion and where one can no longer recognize himself. Yes, relationship is between two people, but relationship is still a connection that exists in linkage of two individuals, who each has his/her own life. It will only lead to tragic ending if one tries to combine everything into one person’s capacity.
What about marriage? Isn’t marriage a symbol of love and union?
The truth is, marriage is the biggest test of commitment. Romantic love is indeed ideal, but marriage is a social construction. What are married people subconsciously proving, compared to the couples who shared their lives together, forever, without any papers signed?
Sometimes marriage seems like the finish line in the race of relationship. Most of the times people forget how holy marriage is, forget about what commitment and promises are. Sharing a home, sharing responsibility for their children, sharing everything. It is supposed to be something to die for, yet we are never satisfied with what we have; your life becomes ours, still, we yearn for what we don’t have. Marriage and union, is it still possible for one to be an “individual” in this concept?
Some choose not to get married, not to have children. Reasons could be to avoid the lost of romance, to prevent having to raise children in the modern values and media. But most prominent of all reasons, is it simply a refusal to carry any responsibilities and commitment? Is it an indirect representation of our id or the child inside of us—the desire to be free, to be on our own, to just do whatever we want to do, whenever we want?
I do not believe this to solely apply to cases involving romance and love, it is just like how we are aware of many problems that are always present. Problems with family, friends, boyfriend/girlfriend etc. that occur due to the discrepancy in your way of doing things and thinking from theirs. After many attempts of making things better, we often seem to subconsciously avoid talking about the issues, and begin to do things for ourselves without considering their feelings. It is possible that we realize we need to stand on our grounds, and that sometimes we just cannot do what we want to do with the consideration of others as a primary factor. The notion of omission—oh how good it feels—omitting conflicts against your will, almost completely excluding the guilt from not worrying about others.
The act of not being so attached to one’s lover, the life without marriage or children, the reasoning of doing ourselves justice.. ultimately, are these all just a form of omission of troubles, loads of thinking, commitment, and responsibilities? Are we displacing them with our own logic and theory, some sort of rationalization?
and really, who is to say marriage is the best way to go, and not having any commitment is just a childish act of avoiding responsibilities?
Friday, May 7, 2010
What about honesty
Such a small thing, yet it brings out so much reflection.
Do you believe there are people in the world who are chosen to speak the truth? White lies are so popular; they are easy to tell, almost reflexive, and smooth. What’s more, flattering, easygoing, useful, and recoupable—as in regain of benefits in the future.
So how can the people who speak the truth survive? They survive by living on their righteousness and honesty with themselves. I guess when one is able to speak the truth that no one dares or bothers to tell, he is sacrificing quite a lot. Rumors, varied opinions, talk-backs, change of impression or reputation etc etc. That “quite a lot,” I assume, at the end means friends. There are incidents like standing up for a friend where you speak the truth to the person who disrespects your friend, and to basically fuck off; trade off is a request of apology to what that person would call a “random spaz”, any relationship you have with that person, and disappointment in the friend who you stand up for because you get no support from this “friend” whatsoever. So that’s a loss of 2 friends or more net, just from standing up for somebody else.
Note: i’m not spazzing, at all. and this is not sarcasm.
Okay more incidents like, having an opinion about a friend of yours, and learning from your past experience with this friend which gives you negative opinion about him/her. If you are a rather stubborn person, you won’t be able to really interact with this person for longer than 5 minutes, and so there you go another friend.
Everyone might praise you for your bravery, your honesty, to be able to take on the role of speaking the truth that no one else would offer to sacrifice. But when there is this day when you have to go through your list of contacts to find someone to just go somewhere with, and you can’t find anyone else beside those 2 or 3 closer friends that are not free that day, all you have left is your list of friends that you have decided not to talk to because of your disagreement with their personality or ways of doing things. What you’re holding onto is that sparks of bravery and courage of yours, and the righteousness, comfort, and honesty you gain with yourself. Because the truth is ugly; no one, honestly, no one likes to hear negative comments about themselves, unless your unspoken thoughts of truth are like the yummy cheesecake filling hidden in Big City Cupcakes.
It’s a free world; there is determinism like how one’s personality is affected by some genes and environmental factors..but there is also free will, which you can take control over and decide what things to say. One got to have some self-control, and that is what I’m telling myself. At the same time, there is also a trade-off for not being honest with yourself or others, or even when you just don’t take sides: mere dishonesty and lack of satisfaction—something that one would not understand until he nails down some form of opinion. I don’t believe there to be a grey area, where one is honest with himself and also who does not say anything negative; that is just plainly letting your soul float around with no grounds.
Do you believe there are people in the world who are chosen to speak the truth? White lies are so popular; they are easy to tell, almost reflexive, and smooth. What’s more, flattering, easygoing, useful, and recoupable—as in regain of benefits in the future.
So how can the people who speak the truth survive? They survive by living on their righteousness and honesty with themselves. I guess when one is able to speak the truth that no one dares or bothers to tell, he is sacrificing quite a lot. Rumors, varied opinions, talk-backs, change of impression or reputation etc etc. That “quite a lot,” I assume, at the end means friends. There are incidents like standing up for a friend where you speak the truth to the person who disrespects your friend, and to basically fuck off; trade off is a request of apology to what that person would call a “random spaz”, any relationship you have with that person, and disappointment in the friend who you stand up for because you get no support from this “friend” whatsoever. So that’s a loss of 2 friends or more net, just from standing up for somebody else.
Note: i’m not spazzing, at all. and this is not sarcasm.
Okay more incidents like, having an opinion about a friend of yours, and learning from your past experience with this friend which gives you negative opinion about him/her. If you are a rather stubborn person, you won’t be able to really interact with this person for longer than 5 minutes, and so there you go another friend.
Everyone might praise you for your bravery, your honesty, to be able to take on the role of speaking the truth that no one else would offer to sacrifice. But when there is this day when you have to go through your list of contacts to find someone to just go somewhere with, and you can’t find anyone else beside those 2 or 3 closer friends that are not free that day, all you have left is your list of friends that you have decided not to talk to because of your disagreement with their personality or ways of doing things. What you’re holding onto is that sparks of bravery and courage of yours, and the righteousness, comfort, and honesty you gain with yourself. Because the truth is ugly; no one, honestly, no one likes to hear negative comments about themselves, unless your unspoken thoughts of truth are like the yummy cheesecake filling hidden in Big City Cupcakes.
It’s a free world; there is determinism like how one’s personality is affected by some genes and environmental factors..but there is also free will, which you can take control over and decide what things to say. One got to have some self-control, and that is what I’m telling myself. At the same time, there is also a trade-off for not being honest with yourself or others, or even when you just don’t take sides: mere dishonesty and lack of satisfaction—something that one would not understand until he nails down some form of opinion. I don’t believe there to be a grey area, where one is honest with himself and also who does not say anything negative; that is just plainly letting your soul float around with no grounds.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
“you’re the music while the music lasts.”
So—
with my puppy resting his head on my arm makes it a little hard to type. Just a little.
yes since i last posted, i had been working on this essay...I don’t know if I’m making too much of a claim in it, or ... hahah it feels very delicate when I can sense my pup’s breaths against my arm...
yea that’s sort of what I wanna say in this post: the physical sense of existence.
my friend once said something like this: “i like winter because i can see my own breath, and i know that i’m actually alive.” interesting.
and funny ‘cause we have to physically see something to physically feel our own, so-real, so-unavoidable existence.
in the past year my class, well not my class—sounds like im teaching the class or something—but my english class, we worked with autobiographies. and how daring of me, to argue about how their authenticity could very possibly be challenged, in my essay. Well authentic not in a sense, that “they are not realistic” because it got to be pretty damn realistic when there’s an autobiography written by a blind guy. but authentic in a sense that, it doesn’t narrate or deliver the entire “self” in this autobiography completely.
let me explain the core reason for this:
read the title of this post, it’s a quote from one of the articles i read as research for this essay; that is the definition to the notion of self.
note that music is wordless, and so even when we talk about self in anything—autobiographies, blogs etc., those words that we use are so limited as to be able to fully describe our complex and rich selves. We’re human, and you know how complicated this species is. scientifically speaking, just the brain is enough to say that all those autobiographies are not able to really say that they have delivered readers a full and complete representation of the autobiographers. Feelings, thoughts—conscious, unconscious. even more, soul.
“self is a state of feeling, not an entity.”
I think,
most people who write about themselves, are subconsciously trying to “leave a mark” of themselves in this world—this world full of many, many people. To search for some less abstract form of existence, of self.. we all do that at some point, through something. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a negative act at all. It’s like a “psychological gratification” to have an autobiography or blog, something to satisfy ourselves mentally; forming an image, dropping words about our experiences, our feelings, to physically “see” ourselves. well, the selves that we sort of “made up” with our restricted words, at least.
oh, just recalled. In one of my philosophy, well, my philosophy discussion, we talked about determinism and free will. so determinism is basically saying that everything is predetermined, but not by us, of course. For example, if you decide to go to school in the morning even when you’d rather stay in bed, it is your nervous system telling you or making you go to school/stay in bed. Just think about that, you can’t really argue against it because our brain IS the control centre, even feelings, such abstract thing, is generated from there. and this girl in my class broke out dramatically, saying “so if all our decisions are predetermined, then it’s like, what the hell am i doing here?!” yea it was pretty hilarious, especially when she looked so concerned. and my teacher’s assistant asked “so does that worry you?” “YEAA!” and with a “duh” expression.
oh, how nervous we get when we lose control over ourselves.
i think that girl’s reaction was a form of grasping her-self. Something that she believes in, that she has been building on, with properties, knowledge, experiences.
so what IF we are not what we think we are, what if we are predetermined, what if behind all these illusions and delusions, we do not have free will, and hence no such thing as the concept of self?
no wonder we do so much stuff like what i’m doing right now.
with my puppy resting his head on my arm makes it a little hard to type. Just a little.
yes since i last posted, i had been working on this essay...I don’t know if I’m making too much of a claim in it, or ... hahah it feels very delicate when I can sense my pup’s breaths against my arm...
yea that’s sort of what I wanna say in this post: the physical sense of existence.
my friend once said something like this: “i like winter because i can see my own breath, and i know that i’m actually alive.” interesting.
and funny ‘cause we have to physically see something to physically feel our own, so-real, so-unavoidable existence.
in the past year my class, well not my class—sounds like im teaching the class or something—but my english class, we worked with autobiographies. and how daring of me, to argue about how their authenticity could very possibly be challenged, in my essay. Well authentic not in a sense, that “they are not realistic” because it got to be pretty damn realistic when there’s an autobiography written by a blind guy. but authentic in a sense that, it doesn’t narrate or deliver the entire “self” in this autobiography completely.
let me explain the core reason for this:
read the title of this post, it’s a quote from one of the articles i read as research for this essay; that is the definition to the notion of self.
note that music is wordless, and so even when we talk about self in anything—autobiographies, blogs etc., those words that we use are so limited as to be able to fully describe our complex and rich selves. We’re human, and you know how complicated this species is. scientifically speaking, just the brain is enough to say that all those autobiographies are not able to really say that they have delivered readers a full and complete representation of the autobiographers. Feelings, thoughts—conscious, unconscious. even more, soul.
“self is a state of feeling, not an entity.”
I think,
most people who write about themselves, are subconsciously trying to “leave a mark” of themselves in this world—this world full of many, many people. To search for some less abstract form of existence, of self.. we all do that at some point, through something. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a negative act at all. It’s like a “psychological gratification” to have an autobiography or blog, something to satisfy ourselves mentally; forming an image, dropping words about our experiences, our feelings, to physically “see” ourselves. well, the selves that we sort of “made up” with our restricted words, at least.
oh, just recalled. In one of my philosophy, well, my philosophy discussion, we talked about determinism and free will. so determinism is basically saying that everything is predetermined, but not by us, of course. For example, if you decide to go to school in the morning even when you’d rather stay in bed, it is your nervous system telling you or making you go to school/stay in bed. Just think about that, you can’t really argue against it because our brain IS the control centre, even feelings, such abstract thing, is generated from there. and this girl in my class broke out dramatically, saying “so if all our decisions are predetermined, then it’s like, what the hell am i doing here?!” yea it was pretty hilarious, especially when she looked so concerned. and my teacher’s assistant asked “so does that worry you?” “YEAA!” and with a “duh” expression.
oh, how nervous we get when we lose control over ourselves.
i think that girl’s reaction was a form of grasping her-self. Something that she believes in, that she has been building on, with properties, knowledge, experiences.
so what IF we are not what we think we are, what if we are predetermined, what if behind all these illusions and delusions, we do not have free will, and hence no such thing as the concept of self?
no wonder we do so much stuff like what i’m doing right now.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
interesting people
I wonder if something like this has ever happened to you guys..something very disappointing.
Beware when you meet this kind of people: they stand out, they look like they have an interesting personality, seems like so many great things are happening in their lives, and most importantly, there’s just a mysterious aura around them that makes you want to know more, and more about them, and possibly, be part of their lives.
Yea- beware. Don’t waste...or to sound better, spend too much time trying to get to know them, because you might be disappointed. at least that’s what i’ve been experiencing with these “interesting people”.
do u feel it when people want to be something that they are not? they usually have a few groups of friends, but not necessary that they are close with each, or any, of the groups. There’s always a group of party animals; people that are extremely extrovert, sociable, and are wasted all the freaking time - this is the group of friends that they always want to hang out with, and want other people to think that they are part of. Another group would be friends from a long time ago, perhaps elementary school friends; ones that make them feel the less abstract presence of their history. And there’s the most important group..but note that only the people in this group can see its importance, but to the interesting people, this group is not who they want to be around most of the time, but their superego knows that they need this group of conscious, down-to-the-earth friends. That’s it-this group of friends is composed of people that are realists, who have a healthy and upright lifestyle, who think deeper, and most significantly, they make these interesting people feel interesting; their self-monitoring works with these people because they are able to make this group of friends think what they want them to think of them. hope that wasn’t too confusing. but that’s just the interesting people’s delusion, because their conscious group of friends are obviously more awake than they are. So i guess i am part of my “interesting” friends’ conscious group of friends, because i feel like i know them too well that it’s kinda disgusting. Worse off, i can feel that they are using me to make themselves feel better about themselves, make them stay sane, allow them to find the better part of themselves because they are around this group of people that know what they want and what they are doing. It’s double the benefits for these interesting people when they are friends with conscious people: firstly, they think that their self-monitoring is working when the truth is that, their friends know better than them of how they are really like. they feel better about themselves; they probably feel inferior compared to their group of party animal friends, but compared to these conscious people, they feel as though they have a more tripping life, in their perspective. Secondly, they are able to feel the conscious part of themselves; being with this group of people is like going to church: no matter what they do outside, they are forgiven and pure, they are able to confess to themselves, and find the better part of themselves in these people, while doing something more fulfilling than passing out at a party.
it is very, very disappointing. because at first when i really wanted to know them, and the more i know them, the less complicated they become. and by knowing them i mean in a very real way, like listening to their inner feelings instead of making assumptions myself. it’s to the point that they are transparent, i can see through them. it is very sad at the same time, because i don’t only lose interest in them, i lose quite an amount of respect.. not just because they are using me to feel more “normal”, but the fact that they want to be so much, too much that they don’t realize how they are never gonna be that something else, because they have created this blur, this tangled mess of wants, to the point that they become what people call “multi-face”. every time i spend time with them, the level of intrigue goes down by a bit.
yes maybe dressing up will get you the attention, but when people get to know you, you’re just disappointing them, and how you look and how you portray yourself won’t do anything because eventually, they know you better than you know yourself.
Beware when you meet this kind of people: they stand out, they look like they have an interesting personality, seems like so many great things are happening in their lives, and most importantly, there’s just a mysterious aura around them that makes you want to know more, and more about them, and possibly, be part of their lives.
Yea- beware. Don’t waste...or to sound better, spend too much time trying to get to know them, because you might be disappointed. at least that’s what i’ve been experiencing with these “interesting people”.
do u feel it when people want to be something that they are not? they usually have a few groups of friends, but not necessary that they are close with each, or any, of the groups. There’s always a group of party animals; people that are extremely extrovert, sociable, and are wasted all the freaking time - this is the group of friends that they always want to hang out with, and want other people to think that they are part of. Another group would be friends from a long time ago, perhaps elementary school friends; ones that make them feel the less abstract presence of their history. And there’s the most important group..but note that only the people in this group can see its importance, but to the interesting people, this group is not who they want to be around most of the time, but their superego knows that they need this group of conscious, down-to-the-earth friends. That’s it-this group of friends is composed of people that are realists, who have a healthy and upright lifestyle, who think deeper, and most significantly, they make these interesting people feel interesting; their self-monitoring works with these people because they are able to make this group of friends think what they want them to think of them. hope that wasn’t too confusing. but that’s just the interesting people’s delusion, because their conscious group of friends are obviously more awake than they are. So i guess i am part of my “interesting” friends’ conscious group of friends, because i feel like i know them too well that it’s kinda disgusting. Worse off, i can feel that they are using me to make themselves feel better about themselves, make them stay sane, allow them to find the better part of themselves because they are around this group of people that know what they want and what they are doing. It’s double the benefits for these interesting people when they are friends with conscious people: firstly, they think that their self-monitoring is working when the truth is that, their friends know better than them of how they are really like. they feel better about themselves; they probably feel inferior compared to their group of party animal friends, but compared to these conscious people, they feel as though they have a more tripping life, in their perspective. Secondly, they are able to feel the conscious part of themselves; being with this group of people is like going to church: no matter what they do outside, they are forgiven and pure, they are able to confess to themselves, and find the better part of themselves in these people, while doing something more fulfilling than passing out at a party.
it is very, very disappointing. because at first when i really wanted to know them, and the more i know them, the less complicated they become. and by knowing them i mean in a very real way, like listening to their inner feelings instead of making assumptions myself. it’s to the point that they are transparent, i can see through them. it is very sad at the same time, because i don’t only lose interest in them, i lose quite an amount of respect.. not just because they are using me to feel more “normal”, but the fact that they want to be so much, too much that they don’t realize how they are never gonna be that something else, because they have created this blur, this tangled mess of wants, to the point that they become what people call “multi-face”. every time i spend time with them, the level of intrigue goes down by a bit.
yes maybe dressing up will get you the attention, but when people get to know you, you’re just disappointing them, and how you look and how you portray yourself won’t do anything because eventually, they know you better than you know yourself.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
what, arts students are not smart now?
i was told that around 20 years ago, the faculty of commerce (in undergraduate program) was the dumping ground instead of the faculty of arts. what i mean by dumping ground is where students apply to just for the sake of going to university because they don’t know what they really want to do in the future yet, or they simply don’t have the required GPA to get into their desired faculty, so since arts is easier to get in, they use it as a stepping stone and later transfer to something “better”.
my friend was ranting to me the other day: “i’m so sick of people in my class that just don’t care and don’t participate...and i didn’t come here to learn with people who are just using arts as a dumping ground!” she was really angry.
so i wonder why, why was it a 360 degree difference 20 years ago..maybe that was when the hippie age was taking place- when people strive for justice, equality, and change- thats why they would go into arts and learn more about deeper philosophy behind matter. and now commerce is like the faculty that everyone wants to get in because thats what generally leads u to earning real money.
more worse is that, its almost like being in commerce defines if one’s intelligent or not.
that really disgusts me. especially when my economics professor would say “yea because this is what makes the world go around” .. um no it’s not.
no, it’s not.
I strongly believe not only that the world doesn’t run solely because of the people who know how to use and earn money, but more firmly that intelligence cannot be determined by knowing how to run a business, being sneaky and tricky enough to make the most profits to yourself by taking away other’s, or in general, be good with money. I literally feel sick after an economics class because the whole lecture would be about how to maximize your benefits, how the flow of money keeps the world from collapsing. To clarify, I have no offense against those who are good at commerce. In fact, I think some people are made for it and if they don’t go into this field, it would be a waste. I am just really against the idea of things that evolve around money is what runs this world that I’m living in. Because it’s such a misleading belief, it’s not improving anything out of so much in nowadays society that truly needs improvements, that is dying for changes.
Sometimes I wonder if I am just fooling myself; just because I am not good at economics (since thats the only math course i take) that’s why I don’t believe in it. Maybe i’m just covering my weakness up by making all these rationalization about how many other things are more important than money. I think the reason why I have this doubt in myself at times is because of my surroundings. When one is in an environment where a certain thing is being reinforced, approved, and even appraised,so much, it is extremely difficult to not eventually believe in it. maybe that’s what strikes me sometimes.
I will not deny the fact that money and business and whatever goes around it are very important to the society today, but why now? why so important now? why more and more students want to get into commerce? what happened in between these 20 years, or more? so many questions in my head that are unanswered, and i’m sure that goes with a lot of people out there too.
to be honest, I still get offended by the idea that knowing how to deal with money determines if one is smart or not.
If you’re not in arts, and if you do not indulge in artsy fartsy stuff and you’re just in arts because of whatever reason, you don’t understand how degrading it feels when people ask you “oh what faculty are you in?” “arts” “oh..”. That “oh” is like, “oh man i’m sorry” or sometimes worse when they say, “oh THAT’S OKAY”. what do you mean “that’s okay”?! there’s nothing about me that i need to hear a “that’s okay” from you, you know? I enjoy writing and learning about deeper issues in the society more than learning how to make the most money I could and anything else. THAT’S why I’m in arts. I like to take an abstract view on things, to see them and analyze them in deeper levels. I didn’t come into this faculty to hear “it’s okay that you’re in arts” because it SHOULD be okay, not just okay, it’s good, it’s fucking fantastic.
yea sorry but it’s just so annoying when people are like oh what faculty are you in “commerce” “oh wow smart guy” versus “arts” “oh.......” yea.
I don’t think any “smart” guy in commerce can write a A+ philosophy paper and an english student might suck at econ. Just making my point across in a lamer and simpler way.
my friend was ranting to me the other day: “i’m so sick of people in my class that just don’t care and don’t participate...and i didn’t come here to learn with people who are just using arts as a dumping ground!” she was really angry.
so i wonder why, why was it a 360 degree difference 20 years ago..maybe that was when the hippie age was taking place- when people strive for justice, equality, and change- thats why they would go into arts and learn more about deeper philosophy behind matter. and now commerce is like the faculty that everyone wants to get in because thats what generally leads u to earning real money.
more worse is that, its almost like being in commerce defines if one’s intelligent or not.
that really disgusts me. especially when my economics professor would say “yea because this is what makes the world go around” .. um no it’s not.
no, it’s not.
I strongly believe not only that the world doesn’t run solely because of the people who know how to use and earn money, but more firmly that intelligence cannot be determined by knowing how to run a business, being sneaky and tricky enough to make the most profits to yourself by taking away other’s, or in general, be good with money. I literally feel sick after an economics class because the whole lecture would be about how to maximize your benefits, how the flow of money keeps the world from collapsing. To clarify, I have no offense against those who are good at commerce. In fact, I think some people are made for it and if they don’t go into this field, it would be a waste. I am just really against the idea of things that evolve around money is what runs this world that I’m living in. Because it’s such a misleading belief, it’s not improving anything out of so much in nowadays society that truly needs improvements, that is dying for changes.
Sometimes I wonder if I am just fooling myself; just because I am not good at economics (since thats the only math course i take) that’s why I don’t believe in it. Maybe i’m just covering my weakness up by making all these rationalization about how many other things are more important than money. I think the reason why I have this doubt in myself at times is because of my surroundings. When one is in an environment where a certain thing is being reinforced, approved, and even appraised,so much, it is extremely difficult to not eventually believe in it. maybe that’s what strikes me sometimes.
I will not deny the fact that money and business and whatever goes around it are very important to the society today, but why now? why so important now? why more and more students want to get into commerce? what happened in between these 20 years, or more? so many questions in my head that are unanswered, and i’m sure that goes with a lot of people out there too.
to be honest, I still get offended by the idea that knowing how to deal with money determines if one is smart or not.
If you’re not in arts, and if you do not indulge in artsy fartsy stuff and you’re just in arts because of whatever reason, you don’t understand how degrading it feels when people ask you “oh what faculty are you in?” “arts” “oh..”. That “oh” is like, “oh man i’m sorry” or sometimes worse when they say, “oh THAT’S OKAY”. what do you mean “that’s okay”?! there’s nothing about me that i need to hear a “that’s okay” from you, you know? I enjoy writing and learning about deeper issues in the society more than learning how to make the most money I could and anything else. THAT’S why I’m in arts. I like to take an abstract view on things, to see them and analyze them in deeper levels. I didn’t come into this faculty to hear “it’s okay that you’re in arts” because it SHOULD be okay, not just okay, it’s good, it’s fucking fantastic.
yea sorry but it’s just so annoying when people are like oh what faculty are you in “commerce” “oh wow smart guy” versus “arts” “oh.......” yea.
I don’t think any “smart” guy in commerce can write a A+ philosophy paper and an english student might suck at econ. Just making my point across in a lamer and simpler way.
Monday, March 8, 2010
break even
when a heart is broken, no it don’t break even-
its like a vase with cracks on it, you wanna keep it because the vase itself is so pretty, but water leaks through the cracks and eventually it’ll soak up the bottom.
something just cannot be even, ever again.
the invisible emptiness hits me harder than anything with a physical weight.. and knowing whats missing is somewhere that has no traits of me, somewhere that belongs to somebody else’s.
what’s worse is that this image of emptiness is imprinted in my mind and is easily copied and pasted onto other things, bringing me more misery, out of physically nothing.
to break even would just separate our paths even further apart, because we have no clue that we're not on the same track, and breaking even doesn't solve the problem.
when you see how the bottom is soaked, it makes what’s underneath the glass smudged and ugly .. no it ain’t pretty at all. by that time no one cares how pretty the vase is, just because the cracks are not fixed earlier.
sometimes i’d rather be part of what i don’t believe in, ‘cause then i won’t feel so much from what i am so indulged in, to the point that i wonder if im fooling myself.
i’m just a miserable fool, overdramatizing nothing all day.
its like a vase with cracks on it, you wanna keep it because the vase itself is so pretty, but water leaks through the cracks and eventually it’ll soak up the bottom.
something just cannot be even, ever again.
the invisible emptiness hits me harder than anything with a physical weight.. and knowing whats missing is somewhere that has no traits of me, somewhere that belongs to somebody else’s.
what’s worse is that this image of emptiness is imprinted in my mind and is easily copied and pasted onto other things, bringing me more misery, out of physically nothing.
to break even would just separate our paths even further apart, because we have no clue that we're not on the same track, and breaking even doesn't solve the problem.
when you see how the bottom is soaked, it makes what’s underneath the glass smudged and ugly .. no it ain’t pretty at all. by that time no one cares how pretty the vase is, just because the cracks are not fixed earlier.
sometimes i’d rather be part of what i don’t believe in, ‘cause then i won’t feel so much from what i am so indulged in, to the point that i wonder if im fooling myself.
i’m just a miserable fool, overdramatizing nothing all day.
Monday, March 1, 2010
engaging in someone else's victory
the so-called life -
I haven’t exactly figured out my life yet, but with these glorious food, it’s hard to resist to not care for a thing and have a taste of the wonderful edibles that exist in this world.
it also makes me forget about the need to plan stuff out..
so my friend told me his exact plan in the next 7 years or so. he said he is going to get his first million when he is 23.
what do i want to have achieved by 23?
in this moment, i am still engaging myself in the canadian athletes’ glory of 14 golds - not only world record - but the last hockey gold medal game was ... deserving, real, and victorious.
..engaging myself in their victory
today i learned the reason why we become so into big events like olympics. as peasants, we seldomly get to be involved in things that are so huge..and being part of a big event allows us to be engaged in something much bigger than ourselves, thus sharing a sense of larger importance. when our nation wins, we experience a kind of victory that most of us will never be able to have, personally.
when i think about my own dreams.. which leads to an interesting thought because my dreams are not ridiculously big like i wanna become an astronaut or something like that, but i have high expectations, of myself, in a way. it’s weird ‘cause i always hear things like “don’t be so harsh on yourself” but im not a person that strives for perfection all the time. im a medium, average person, in everything i’d say.
but i think so. fucking. much. it always drives me insane.
anyway, so back to thinking about my own dreams, that leads me to think of my habit of getting upset when close friends/family members leave town for say more than two weeks. i know it’s ridiculous, it’s only two weeks kathy, wtf are you getting worked up for? but i think there’s a couple of reasons. first of all, ever since i was small, i used to cry everytime when i left the park, just because i had to say goodbye to little friends that i only met for 20 minutes or so. i don’t like saying goodbye.. it gives me uncertainty of their safety (like i can save their lives when im around them) and just .. like i lost some directions. and thats also related to the second reason- because my motivation is not as strong as theirs. and when those that are close to me are ones that chase after their dreams, it makes me feel empty inside because i am not able to do something so courageous..and carefree. i can do impulsive shit but so far, not this, not chasing after my dreams. it’s so easy to say it but so hard to do. there are reasons why i cannot carelessly chase after what i want to do.. and i think they all have to do with my close friends/family. like my family, it matters to me more than the need to pursue my dreams. sounds crazy but yea, i still can’t do it.
but i gotta stop making others be like me, when they can be so much more, right?
anyway, on a lighter note, i was really engaging myself in these talented kids too- i always wish i was more talented and musical. maybe i’ll develop some more skills. i don’t care if it was the weed or drinks that they consumed, i heard some good music in this small, hippie, venue that night. same feeling as the whole olympic thing- when they had a good performance, i felt like i refreshed myself with all my dreams in the music field too.
and this is one of the pics that i took of this interesting plant.. isn't it so beautiful? it looks so fragile too
if you click into it you can see more details in the plant!! its absolutely amazing!
I haven’t exactly figured out my life yet, but with these glorious food, it’s hard to resist to not care for a thing and have a taste of the wonderful edibles that exist in this world.
it also makes me forget about the need to plan stuff out..
so my friend told me his exact plan in the next 7 years or so. he said he is going to get his first million when he is 23.
what do i want to have achieved by 23?
in this moment, i am still engaging myself in the canadian athletes’ glory of 14 golds - not only world record - but the last hockey gold medal game was ... deserving, real, and victorious.
..engaging myself in their victory
today i learned the reason why we become so into big events like olympics. as peasants, we seldomly get to be involved in things that are so huge..and being part of a big event allows us to be engaged in something much bigger than ourselves, thus sharing a sense of larger importance. when our nation wins, we experience a kind of victory that most of us will never be able to have, personally.
when i think about my own dreams.. which leads to an interesting thought because my dreams are not ridiculously big like i wanna become an astronaut or something like that, but i have high expectations, of myself, in a way. it’s weird ‘cause i always hear things like “don’t be so harsh on yourself” but im not a person that strives for perfection all the time. im a medium, average person, in everything i’d say.
but i think so. fucking. much. it always drives me insane.
anyway, so back to thinking about my own dreams, that leads me to think of my habit of getting upset when close friends/family members leave town for say more than two weeks. i know it’s ridiculous, it’s only two weeks kathy, wtf are you getting worked up for? but i think there’s a couple of reasons. first of all, ever since i was small, i used to cry everytime when i left the park, just because i had to say goodbye to little friends that i only met for 20 minutes or so. i don’t like saying goodbye.. it gives me uncertainty of their safety (like i can save their lives when im around them) and just .. like i lost some directions. and thats also related to the second reason- because my motivation is not as strong as theirs. and when those that are close to me are ones that chase after their dreams, it makes me feel empty inside because i am not able to do something so courageous..and carefree. i can do impulsive shit but so far, not this, not chasing after my dreams. it’s so easy to say it but so hard to do. there are reasons why i cannot carelessly chase after what i want to do.. and i think they all have to do with my close friends/family. like my family, it matters to me more than the need to pursue my dreams. sounds crazy but yea, i still can’t do it.
but i gotta stop making others be like me, when they can be so much more, right?
anyway, on a lighter note, i was really engaging myself in these talented kids too- i always wish i was more talented and musical. maybe i’ll develop some more skills. i don’t care if it was the weed or drinks that they consumed, i heard some good music in this small, hippie, venue that night. same feeling as the whole olympic thing- when they had a good performance, i felt like i refreshed myself with all my dreams in the music field too.
and this is one of the pics that i took of this interesting plant.. isn't it so beautiful? it looks so fragile too
if you click into it you can see more details in the plant!! its absolutely amazing!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
cross your heart?
have you ever wanted to tell somebody, “you are not alone”, so badly that you either stare at that person with retarded passionate eyes, or more, hold his/her hand tightly, or helplessly gulp the passion down back to your stomach because it’d be awkward to say something so cheesy? well, i always feel like that. but today, i think i realized why i feel such strong need to tell others that they are not alone.
so who’s not afraid of being alone? okay most people would say that they need, or they enjoy, that bit of silence once in a while, you know, just to keep yourself sane. but i mean, continuous lonesome. who can really tolerate? or more, to enjoy, to embrace it? personally, i cannot live alone and i know that dearly. sometimes the relationship between people is so helplessly on-the-surface due to the physical distance between bodies, that we forget to be content about what we share in memories, in feelings, with each other. and because of that, we feel lonely when the physical distance between u and other people grow even further. i never wanna forget what i have with those that i care about, thats why i try so hard to hold onto them; the more afraid of loneliness that i am, the more i urge to tell those who need to hear that they are not alone, that they are not alone.
and that makes me think about promises too. after watching the movie Up again, i see how one can cope with the (eternal) physical distance between ppl. yea we always talk about memories and how important they are.. well this movie shows that some memories you just have to imprint them in your heart then put them behind. but what’s interesting is the part of promises. “Cross your heart?” if someone asks you to cross your heart to something, would you usually do it? i mean, it.. it is a huge thing to me. it’s crossing your heart man. but i think it’s also because of the heavy responsibility promises carry that they surpass memories; they still exist, with the same colour, through the physical distance between ppl. whereas memories fade. I think it is also what eliminates the sense of loneliness because it is not just a memory of something that you do with the ppl, but its something that is SO important to whoever that makes the promise. it gives you linkage to the other person that crosses his/her heart, and it gives you a sense of company.
mkay, i didn’t expect to write so much, and i don’t think im very clear in my words compared to my thoughts. but i hope somewhere in your mind, you understand what i’m juberishing :)
feel free to put down some of your thoughts.
so who’s not afraid of being alone? okay most people would say that they need, or they enjoy, that bit of silence once in a while, you know, just to keep yourself sane. but i mean, continuous lonesome. who can really tolerate? or more, to enjoy, to embrace it? personally, i cannot live alone and i know that dearly. sometimes the relationship between people is so helplessly on-the-surface due to the physical distance between bodies, that we forget to be content about what we share in memories, in feelings, with each other. and because of that, we feel lonely when the physical distance between u and other people grow even further. i never wanna forget what i have with those that i care about, thats why i try so hard to hold onto them; the more afraid of loneliness that i am, the more i urge to tell those who need to hear that they are not alone, that they are not alone.
and that makes me think about promises too. after watching the movie Up again, i see how one can cope with the (eternal) physical distance between ppl. yea we always talk about memories and how important they are.. well this movie shows that some memories you just have to imprint them in your heart then put them behind. but what’s interesting is the part of promises. “Cross your heart?” if someone asks you to cross your heart to something, would you usually do it? i mean, it.. it is a huge thing to me. it’s crossing your heart man. but i think it’s also because of the heavy responsibility promises carry that they surpass memories; they still exist, with the same colour, through the physical distance between ppl. whereas memories fade. I think it is also what eliminates the sense of loneliness because it is not just a memory of something that you do with the ppl, but its something that is SO important to whoever that makes the promise. it gives you linkage to the other person that crosses his/her heart, and it gives you a sense of company.
mkay, i didn’t expect to write so much, and i don’t think im very clear in my words compared to my thoughts. but i hope somewhere in your mind, you understand what i’m juberishing :)
feel free to put down some of your thoughts.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
adrenaline is for heroes
today i’ve been such an impulsive bitch.
so i met up with two friends and we got to the topic of hookah because friend A saw the pics of me and friend C having a hookah session. turned out that they were surprised of friend C smoking,but i always find surprises from her so i wasn’t so surprised .. yea that sounded paradoxical but sometimes when you keep finding out things about a friend that surprise you,not necessarily in a bad way, the level of surprise decreases, same with everything else, like utility,happiness,tastiness in food? but enough of that,we got to the topic of smoking cigarettes. and we took turns asking each other if we smoke regularly,and friend B, who is a regular smoker,asked if i smoke regularly,i said “no..no i don’t do that” and i just sort of repeated that about twice to thrice, which results in friend B's quoting me: “hah..’i don’t do that’..” its funny ‘cause she said that in a tone, like indicating that i’m trying so hard to stay “innocent” or “pure”. more interestingly, it follows with a sense of bitterness. i didn’t think about this until we parted in the rain,and friend B was having a smoke when i left. did i offend her? did i make her feel “different”? did i make her feel “bad”? did i .. discriminate her,in a sense? we’ve been talking so much about discrimination in class -- among disability,race,class.. i just didn’t think i’d make such a mistake on discriminating her,indirectly. when i said “no i don’t do that” i seem to have created an identity of the Other onto this friend B. “i don’t do that”, as if smoking belongs to a lower level, makes her sound dirty. if only i thought into it more before i said that, i wud call that an impulsive response that i gave. but maybe what i’ve been talking about in the past 300 words does not describe how friend B actually felt either. maybe i have just impulsively assumed her feelings on my own.
second impulsive thing that i did, was one of the typical things that i feel such a strong need to do, and they never ended up great. speaking up for a friend, or for urself, always seems to be the right thing to do. but i don't even seem to get a positive feedback.
yea that was pretty impulsive,maybe i should have thought more into it too, ‘cause i have no idea of whats gonna happen after i sent that msg.
another impulsive thing that i did: started this blog. but this one is not so much on the negative side :)
so i met up with two friends and we got to the topic of hookah because friend A saw the pics of me and friend C having a hookah session. turned out that they were surprised of friend C smoking,but i always find surprises from her so i wasn’t so surprised .. yea that sounded paradoxical but sometimes when you keep finding out things about a friend that surprise you,not necessarily in a bad way, the level of surprise decreases, same with everything else, like utility,happiness,tastiness in food? but enough of that,we got to the topic of smoking cigarettes. and we took turns asking each other if we smoke regularly,and friend B, who is a regular smoker,asked if i smoke regularly,i said “no..no i don’t do that” and i just sort of repeated that about twice to thrice, which results in friend B's quoting me: “hah..’i don’t do that’..” its funny ‘cause she said that in a tone, like indicating that i’m trying so hard to stay “innocent” or “pure”. more interestingly, it follows with a sense of bitterness. i didn’t think about this until we parted in the rain,and friend B was having a smoke when i left. did i offend her? did i make her feel “different”? did i make her feel “bad”? did i .. discriminate her,in a sense? we’ve been talking so much about discrimination in class -- among disability,race,class.. i just didn’t think i’d make such a mistake on discriminating her,indirectly. when i said “no i don’t do that” i seem to have created an identity of the Other onto this friend B. “i don’t do that”, as if smoking belongs to a lower level, makes her sound dirty. if only i thought into it more before i said that, i wud call that an impulsive response that i gave. but maybe what i’ve been talking about in the past 300 words does not describe how friend B actually felt either. maybe i have just impulsively assumed her feelings on my own.
second impulsive thing that i did, was one of the typical things that i feel such a strong need to do, and they never ended up great. speaking up for a friend, or for urself, always seems to be the right thing to do. but i don't even seem to get a positive feedback.
yea that was pretty impulsive,maybe i should have thought more into it too, ‘cause i have no idea of whats gonna happen after i sent that msg.
another impulsive thing that i did: started this blog. but this one is not so much on the negative side :)
utilitarianism
Mill claims that one would rather be at higher pleasure than to be just a pig/fool even though the higher pleasure is harder to maintain.
wordplay
jan 12/10
My head is full of thoughts. all tangled, the picture that floats up would look like a typical mess-- tangled, wired. So i decided to put ‘em down, just some jumbled thoughts. Hmm, like Carrie from Sex and the City, just myself as the author is not half as fashionable as she is, nor am i writing for newspaper columns as a living. Sounds sweet hey? I would love to write for a living in the future, if anyone would like to publish my books...or anything. Yea, just imagining, and please don’t call me a stupid fool for having such big dreams..but as my name gets out there as a writer, it’s pretty cool how it can act as sort of a showoff to those who have offended me, looked down at me, disapproved my opinions.
Speaking of opinions, in these years of living so far, I have only realized about my ego recently. I’m a very opinionated person. Am i? I thought i wasn’t. I once thought i was smart. I don’t accept people for who they are, in some sense. I don’t accept other people’s beliefs nor their own ideas, even, at some point. Wow I’m horrible.
No, facebook is more horrible, facebook’s a jackass. The want to be important, to portray a popular impression with lots of gorgeous photos with different people, the image of one that has a busy and glamorous life, the urge for 999 comments on witty statuses... when you do have those things, its like a guilty pleasure; it fulfills all those needs and wants, very materialistic and on-the-surface but satisfying and subconsciously desirable-- you know that it’s JUST facebook, you know that popularity and divas don’t last, yet you die to become a member of them. However, when you don’t have those things... yea when you’re stuck at home reading textbooks but more like getting distracted by practically anything, or when you’re socially retarded, no nights out to hippy restaurants for rock ‘n roll sushi, therefore no pictures to prove your wonderful, drunken times...or just when you simply don’t have friends, you feel down in the dumps. The feeling of exclusion, outcast, boredom, like you’ve been pretending your way through life, with all those friends that came and left, the good times that are proven with pictures... more ironically, it doesn’t get any worse when you see all those people that were in the pictures with you, all smiling, making funny faces, whatever, no longer pay attention to you. Worst of all, they hate you. Facebook discriminates too.
but i still love you fb. just some spaz at times <3
Right now I think I know how those old-fashioned people feel when their tradition and value are categorized as “close-minded”. Our society is undergoing a revolution, the new generation can almost accept anything. kinky shit in those lyrics, early sex, no communication with parents, or even anyone, etc. If a person from even just one generation up argued for the importance in tradition, he’d get owned because people are just so good at bullshitting, making sense of things that don’t make sense. His values would be denied because one should be more open to things and not be so opinionated. But some of those new opinions are just wrong, they are fucked up, they were never acceptable just a decade ago, they are twisted...they might not even be moral. Just like when I voice out my thoughts, and returned with bitchslap in the face as “crossed-the-line” because I’m interfering with others’ beliefs. Well, if one believes something to be true,then other “truths” wouldnt be true to him now, would they? sometimes its important to remember whats black and whats white, instead of staying in that obscure grey zone.
it’s all about the wordplay. The world is smart. The world is ignorant. It’s bliss? The world is too much to handle. Never possible to compromise, to find justice. God’s too nice because it allows anyone to stay on this planet.
But I’m not living in this place alone, so therefore I have to accept different people with their opinions. Here, one of my resolutions for the new year.
My head is full of thoughts. all tangled, the picture that floats up would look like a typical mess-- tangled, wired. So i decided to put ‘em down, just some jumbled thoughts. Hmm, like Carrie from Sex and the City, just myself as the author is not half as fashionable as she is, nor am i writing for newspaper columns as a living. Sounds sweet hey? I would love to write for a living in the future, if anyone would like to publish my books...or anything. Yea, just imagining, and please don’t call me a stupid fool for having such big dreams..but as my name gets out there as a writer, it’s pretty cool how it can act as sort of a showoff to those who have offended me, looked down at me, disapproved my opinions.
Speaking of opinions, in these years of living so far, I have only realized about my ego recently. I’m a very opinionated person. Am i? I thought i wasn’t. I once thought i was smart. I don’t accept people for who they are, in some sense. I don’t accept other people’s beliefs nor their own ideas, even, at some point. Wow I’m horrible.
No, facebook is more horrible, facebook’s a jackass. The want to be important, to portray a popular impression with lots of gorgeous photos with different people, the image of one that has a busy and glamorous life, the urge for 999 comments on witty statuses... when you do have those things, its like a guilty pleasure; it fulfills all those needs and wants, very materialistic and on-the-surface but satisfying and subconsciously desirable-- you know that it’s JUST facebook, you know that popularity and divas don’t last, yet you die to become a member of them. However, when you don’t have those things... yea when you’re stuck at home reading textbooks but more like getting distracted by practically anything, or when you’re socially retarded, no nights out to hippy restaurants for rock ‘n roll sushi, therefore no pictures to prove your wonderful, drunken times...or just when you simply don’t have friends, you feel down in the dumps. The feeling of exclusion, outcast, boredom, like you’ve been pretending your way through life, with all those friends that came and left, the good times that are proven with pictures... more ironically, it doesn’t get any worse when you see all those people that were in the pictures with you, all smiling, making funny faces, whatever, no longer pay attention to you. Worst of all, they hate you. Facebook discriminates too.
but i still love you fb. just some spaz at times <3
Right now I think I know how those old-fashioned people feel when their tradition and value are categorized as “close-minded”. Our society is undergoing a revolution, the new generation can almost accept anything. kinky shit in those lyrics, early sex, no communication with parents, or even anyone, etc. If a person from even just one generation up argued for the importance in tradition, he’d get owned because people are just so good at bullshitting, making sense of things that don’t make sense. His values would be denied because one should be more open to things and not be so opinionated. But some of those new opinions are just wrong, they are fucked up, they were never acceptable just a decade ago, they are twisted...they might not even be moral. Just like when I voice out my thoughts, and returned with bitchslap in the face as “crossed-the-line” because I’m interfering with others’ beliefs. Well, if one believes something to be true,then other “truths” wouldnt be true to him now, would they? sometimes its important to remember whats black and whats white, instead of staying in that obscure grey zone.
it’s all about the wordplay. The world is smart. The world is ignorant. It’s bliss? The world is too much to handle. Never possible to compromise, to find justice. God’s too nice because it allows anyone to stay on this planet.
But I’m not living in this place alone, so therefore I have to accept different people with their opinions. Here, one of my resolutions for the new year.
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