I came to the stunning realization today that things are evolving to survive, but why does everything "want" to survive? Did we just make up "purpose"?
I fear this is the line of thought that has lead many astray. More later.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Hurting the Trees
"Anyone can get anyone if they truly wanted to, if they truly tried." - Doo
Maybe the fear of being spurned holds us back more than we realize. Doo always gets me thinking.
via Stella
Maybe the fear of being spurned holds us back more than we realize. Doo always gets me thinking.
via Stella
Friday, February 5, 2010
Fading Away
Growing up, we have a lot of preconceived notions on what it means to belong somewhere or be associated with certain groups. Sure, we've stylized it to allot "cool kids" and "nerds" and other terms that simplify relationships but the basic principles of belonging are inherent in all of us.
I don't think in elementary school and middle school I was ever "cool." I doubt many kids wanted to hang out with me during recess. The few friends I had are still good friends today, even as we've grown apart, mostly in distance. In high school, I felt those factions occur with greater frequency, and I tried often to be a part of many groups. This stemmed, I think, from the guilt I had. I could relate to those who may want to hang out with me but never get the chance to. I could relate to the ostracized and the outcasts, though those terms are a bit melodramatic. Thus, I wanted to relate to everyone and anyone. I felt (feel) that exclusion is unfair to everyone, and everyone deserves a chance to be understood.
I guess that's why I'm a people person. I like to know people because I know how it feels to be unknown.
So I began a lifestyle of being known. I guess somehow I became loud, abrasive, and pretty obnoxious. Perhaps I still am. All I know is that I had a lot of friends. Maybe they weren't all close, but in all of them, I could see that every person has the opportunity to be amazing and wonderful as a person.
I could relate to different groups. Maybe the "cool kids" or even the "nerds." I prided myself in that ability of mine to be down-to-earth. It wasn't necessarily popularity I enjoyed, but simply knowing that people enjoyed my company. That made me happy.
Therefore, the most difficult aspect of my life right now is my new-found seclusion. I find myself operating solitarily much more often than I would have imagined even a year ago. Surrounding myself with friends has put me in a comfort level that I didn't even realize existed, a bubble I didn't even know confined me. For someone who claimed to be so proud of his ability to accept everyone and everything he encountered, I was contradictorily uncomfortable in the most basic of states. For all my talk of being comfortable with anything, I found that I was most uncomfortable alone. This past few months have taught me that just because I can relate to people, doesn't mean that people need me around all the time.
Perhaps the greatest lesson I can learn about people must be learnt through experiences I have with myself.
All sexual innuendos aside, I think I'm finally starting to be comfortable with living relatively alone.
Walden
I don't think in elementary school and middle school I was ever "cool." I doubt many kids wanted to hang out with me during recess. The few friends I had are still good friends today, even as we've grown apart, mostly in distance. In high school, I felt those factions occur with greater frequency, and I tried often to be a part of many groups. This stemmed, I think, from the guilt I had. I could relate to those who may want to hang out with me but never get the chance to. I could relate to the ostracized and the outcasts, though those terms are a bit melodramatic. Thus, I wanted to relate to everyone and anyone. I felt (feel) that exclusion is unfair to everyone, and everyone deserves a chance to be understood.
I guess that's why I'm a people person. I like to know people because I know how it feels to be unknown.
So I began a lifestyle of being known. I guess somehow I became loud, abrasive, and pretty obnoxious. Perhaps I still am. All I know is that I had a lot of friends. Maybe they weren't all close, but in all of them, I could see that every person has the opportunity to be amazing and wonderful as a person.
I could relate to different groups. Maybe the "cool kids" or even the "nerds." I prided myself in that ability of mine to be down-to-earth. It wasn't necessarily popularity I enjoyed, but simply knowing that people enjoyed my company. That made me happy.
Therefore, the most difficult aspect of my life right now is my new-found seclusion. I find myself operating solitarily much more often than I would have imagined even a year ago. Surrounding myself with friends has put me in a comfort level that I didn't even realize existed, a bubble I didn't even know confined me. For someone who claimed to be so proud of his ability to accept everyone and everything he encountered, I was contradictorily uncomfortable in the most basic of states. For all my talk of being comfortable with anything, I found that I was most uncomfortable alone. This past few months have taught me that just because I can relate to people, doesn't mean that people need me around all the time.
Perhaps the greatest lesson I can learn about people must be learnt through experiences I have with myself.
All sexual innuendos aside, I think I'm finally starting to be comfortable with living relatively alone.
Walden
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)