Since its hard for me to tell you (since everything is harder here..), i guess i will tell the blogosphere. Maybe you will stumble across this and know i am referring to you.
Yes, i love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. Way before you told me that you loved me. It scared me. The fact that my feelings for you grew so quickly. Almost overnight. I don’t want to get hurt (again), I know its a part of life but so is learning from your mistakes. I don’t trust you. Maybe you have given me reason to distrust you. Maybe its your friends, your social circle. Maybe i feel insecure. I see you as people ought to see you, a queen, a princess.
There are other reasons why i dont trust you, or hurdles between my popping the perverbial (cant find spell check) question. Despite these hurdles, i still love you. But do i love you? Do i really love you? Does it matter if i do? I’ve been a good friend to you more than i have a bad one. You have been a good friend to me, more than you have been a bad one. Why do we struggle? And what is this struggle for? Power?
I have been feeling down today, is that why i wrote this? It is a big part of it. But it has been on my mind for a while. Maybe we should not be friends? I’ve thought about deleting you many times. Still haven’t. What is love?
I started a journal a couple months ago. Of course, you appear in it. As do other people. I don’t care that much if someone discovers this journal. Its actually my second diary. My first one got misplaced last year november. Someone out there is having a blast reading it.
I suspect you have a new person in your life. If this is true. How can you, if you love me? I dont trust you. Maybe when i return home things will be different and trust will be less of an issue. It isnt always. Please know that i have almost popped the question on several occasions. I once had it planned out and everything. “Lets go to dinner tomorrow” …
It is difficult believing in God at times. Other times it is really easy. Most of the times i fall in the middle of that. I pray and ask God to help me with these relationship issues. If t there is a God, he knows whats best i am sure.
What ever happened to simple thoughts, easy thoughts, life on a superficial level. What ever happened to living in the moment. I find living in the moment really hard. I get stuck in the past, or focused on the future. I miss the right now. I spend most of my time in the future. I kid you not. So much so, that when the future becomes the present i miss that too. But of course, i said that already.
You may never read this. But i do love you. I am trying to love myself. This is difficult here. Because if i really loved myself, i wouldnt be here. Because i do not like it here. At this is point, it is a means to an ends. Some days are good, i have had good weeks. Rarely a good month. I am thankful for my moments of clarity – when the world seems normal and so do i. When i am not out sponsoring children in india.
The anxiety which resides within me, may be a product of many things. Namely the most recent – that being, my paper due on wednesday. Hoepfully i can just say fuck it, write it, and get it over with. Banish it to the past where it belongs. Thank you for your help. I try my best not to judge you, as a matter of fact, the rational part of me does not judge you one bit.
Names of philosophers, scholars i like:
Nietzsche, Socrates, Dostoevsky, Plato.. Palmer
What is love?
Just 5 weeks left in the school year. There is a significant part of me which hopes my parents/family plan on giving me a graduation gift. Trust me, i deserve it (if i do graduate), even if i dont. Only God really knows how hard it has been for me here. I wonder if this struggle, this burden is a feature of people in the their early to mid twenties? My sadness/depression/neurosis has spurred unusual talents.
Read notes from the underground (dostoevsky), the person he is referring to is me. I have lived that life for at least a year here. It is a terrible thing. A fascinating thing, a fucked up thing. I am still grateful for my vices, i would rather have them than have someone elses.
Lastly, i will try my very best to give you an inside look into what these strange and unusual talents consist of. There are really hard to describe. At times, it is as though my mind prevents my mind from harnessing its power. (Fight between the left and right hemispheres, frontal lobes et cetera). (Overuse of the cerebral cortext).
Ok so here goes, i will now attempt to harness the said powers ..
I tried… failed. Like a child suffering from stage fright in his first play. The fruits of my thoughts, on this electronic whiteboard – disappointing. They do not paint the picture of the thoughts which haunt me daily. The confusing, deep, root mean – fundamental thoughts which drive me to madness. Thoughts which cause my obsession with inanimate objections like a tree. What is a tree? Who gave it that name? Why has no one questioned it? Yes, it is made of molecules, atoms et cetera. But who gave those their names? And who before that? And who was the discoverer of words? Why do we use words? WHY!?!?!?!?!? Why is the worst question to ever be asked. Where, how etc… not so bad. But why? Why is the worst of them all. Why is a champion in a world of grimness, a world of darkness, a world of sadness. But a fascinating sadness. An addicting sadness. A sadness linked to eros, desire. An erotic sadness, not in its adulterated meaning, but in its root meaning. Eros, desire, longing for what one does not have. If sadness was not desirous why would we perpetuate it? Why would i, in my state of neurosis be so compelled to continue to do what i do not want to do? Obviously there is a part of me which likes the resulting suffering. It makes no sense, but maybe it does. For maybe within suffering is eros, desire. Why would we do something we do not like to do? Who then is in control of ourselves. No liquor, no weed, no drugs, no nothing. Just under the influences of ourselves and the world around us. No substances. And we choose to think, act and repeat things which cause us pain? That is more madness than doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. That to me, is the true death instinct. Maybe it is this death instinct that freud alludes to. Maybe. But i doubt that. The death instinct of freud is more from what i gather, animalistic and basic in its nature. It is aggressive. And outward aggression unlike the inward aggression which i have been underlining for the last 5,10, 15 minutes. This is fascinating, my thoughts, my mind. Letting it run, unrestrained, the fight between the ego and the superego, the id etc. Its more funny that the mere fact that i am typing out my thoughts means that i am in fact in more control of my thoughts than i am lead to believe. Or more in control than i am leading you, the reader, whoever you are to believe. HopefullY, “you” are reading this.
What are words? Why do we use them? Why must we communicate? What is responsibility? Why why why why why why why why why… haunting. I believe my state of neurosis is the work of the devil. Unlike the philosophers before myself, i am a believer. Or a pseudo believer. I pray, i write to God. I am not a hardcore atheist. I, a soon champion of apologetics am now tired.. Here is the brick wall Dostoevsky spoke of. And now i am caught in limbo, do i go right or left? But who even decided to call these directions (and what is a direction) right or left? Sigh, my mind has been unlocked, and i do not enjoy it. But maybe i do, since i continue to explore it. Englightenment? Fuck that..
I prefer ignorance. The ignorance and basic understanding of a 6 year old child. But maybe, i do not. Maybe if i were able to revisit the mind, and life of myself at that time, maybe i would rather be in the mental state that i am in now. Maybe. Unfortunately, my mind does not allow me the ability to recall the feelings, emotions and thoughts of a six year old me. I cannot relive 6 year old happiness as a24 year old man. But if i could, i would. Just for comparitive sake.
I tried..
