I was recently looking though some old journal entries on my
computer. I was very melodramatic years ago. I also wrote a lot more than I do
now. I wonder if there is a correlation. Or perhaps I was just in such a place
of flux that words were the only way to express anything. Now I am just sort of
stagnant and I have someone to talk to most of the time.
In these old writings there is also a lot of self-loathing
and self-pity. I called myself a coward a lot. And I chastised myself for never
acting first. For following others’ leads.
I see patterns of yearning for change, yet fearing it.
Apathy. Broken-heartedness. But even in my depressed states, I was never so far
gone. I can recognize me in all of it. Nothing suicidal. Nothing foreign. Just
Anyhow, I have a few excerpts to share. Not the context,
just the sentences. They struck me.
Nov 28 07
“Pain it inevitable. Humans hurt each other. Humans hurt.”
Jan 11 08
“What does emotional
death look like? She wondered briefly, then didn't care, and found the
Feb 11 09
“How can we ever be sure that we chose the right option when
two things are placed before us? It is not possible to know exactly what would
have happened if the other option had been favored.
So we must simply live out the path we’ve chosen. We must
dedicate ourselves to what we believe to be right. Sure, our opinions can
waver, we can continue choosing alternatives. But we cannot go back. We must
always continue, moving away from the past, both regrettable and nostalgic.
Only by moving forward can we ever hope to set things to
rights. Constantly dwelling on the point of pain will not let it heal. Instead,
we find ways to alleviate it at first. Then, slowly the pain will subside.
The only wrong choice is to do nothing at all, to remain
stationary at the crossroads, unsure of which option is better. Or wishing
desperately to return to a past crossroads and choose the other path.
Even if the wrong path is chosen, we cannot be concerned
with how to get back to the other path. We must keep moving forward, to a time
when more options present themselves. Then we can leave the wrong choice
behind, taking with us the lesson mistakes never fail to teach.
So life is this: choosing. Living. Moving. Learning.”
Jul 2 09
“I don’t want to be a writer if I can only write depressed.”
July 2 10
“Uniqueness is the endless repeated forgery of humankind.”
1. Participation in the knowledge of something private or secret, especially as implying concurrence or consent. 2. Private or secret knowledge. 3.Law. The relation between privies. 4.Obsolete. Privacy.
"No, you are not allowed to have any cookies." She eyed him. "Not without my privity and possible participation anyhow." With that, the babysitter gained his full trust.
1. Abounding in pithy aphorisms or maxims: a sententious book. 2. Given to excessive moralizing; self-righteous. 3. Given to or using pithy sayings or maxims: a sententious poet. 4. Of the nature of a maxim; pithy.
Jim couldn't see how the congregation could stand the sentenitous pastor.
1. The political campaign trail. 2. (Before 1872) the temporary platform on which candidates for
the British Parliament stood when nominated and from which they
addressed the electors. 3. Any place from which political campaign speeches are made. 4. Also called hustings court. A local court in certain parts of Virginia.
I hate they hype and hustings leading up to elections.
I feel a bit adrift. I should feel overwhelmed. Perhaps I should feel like I'm failing. But I really only feel apathetic. I am working for decent pay at a job that doesn't require a degree while paying off the debt from my rather useless time at university. I have kept 'the God question' on the back burner successfully for about 4 years. I'm estranged to my family, though my dad still helps me with large bills (medical, dental, car, etc.) I haven't seen my 'phew for several years. I've lost all or most of my friends from high school and college.
I'm not badly off though. I have a place to live. Plenty of food. Good newer friends to hang out with regularly. My boyfriend. Books. Video games. Internet. Movies. I'm set.
So I wrote earlier how I read The Lathe of Heaven. And how it's amazing. And added to my list of utmost favorite books.
Now I've seen the made-for-TV movies. Both of them. One from 1980 and the other from 2002. The first one was better because it followed the book. However, it had awful acting, awful effects and awful music. And it was recorded onto DVD from something else... VHS? It was very poor quality. The second had decent acting, but they screwed up the storyline rather a lot. How can you leave the aliens out? How?
1. A full, rich outpouring of melodious sound. 2. The compass of a voice or instrument. 3. A fixed standard of pitch. 4. Either of two principal timbres or stops of a pipe organ, one
of full, majestic tone (open diapason) and the other of strong,
flutelike tone (stopped diapason). 5. Any of several other organ stops. 6. A tuning fork.
The diapason of the strange instrument was neither pleasant or appalling.
Today I started and finished another of Ursula K. LeGuin's books. I've had a stockpile from $2 Buck Books. (Sidenote, it irks me to put the "$" and "Buck".)
This one was called Very Far Away From Anywhere Else. It's one of her first books and it's very short. I don't have much to say about it other than that it reminded me a bit of Catcher in the Rye and it had several very neat quotes. LeGuin is good with quotes.
I had a very enjoyable evening. I went to see Finding Nemo on 3D. I love Finding Nemo. I always have. However, that didn't stop me from having a flashback of what happened last time I watched it in theaters.
I like hanging out with friends.
I do not like waking up so early for work on Sundays. It's hellish.
Oh, here's a photo of me while I was waiting for my boyfriend as he bought a suit.
1. A light tint of purple; reddish lavender. 2. Any hairy plant belonging to
the genus Heliotropium, of the borage family, as H. arborescens,
cultivated for its small, fragrant purple flowers. 3. Any of various other plants, as the valerian or the winter heliotrope. 4. Any plant that turns toward the sun. 5.Surveying. An arrangement of mirrors for reflecting sunlight from a distant point to an observation station. 6. Bloodstone.
The dead giveaway that the show wasn't filmed in Colorado was the plethora of heliotropes and other ferny underbrush. And that they said they were from "UC Boulder".
This actually happened. We were watching Supernatural and critiquing it.
I just finished reading The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. LeGuin. She's one of my favorite authors. He science fiction is always a very profound look at humanity.
I reccommend all of her books, but this one was quite something. That is not to say it's my favorite, but it's good. And it's important. And it's short.
The premise is that in the future there is a guy (George) whose dreams come to pass. A therapist takes advantage of this and suggests things for George to dream. Generally, the doctor is trying to make things better for humanity, and this changes the course of history several times.
The strongest sense I gathered from this book was Taoism. George embodies it. He wishes to not have the dreams. He wants to live in the world and not change it. He wants to simply be part of it. Taoism is rather too apatetic for me on the whole, but I like this point at least. George also insists vehemently that the ends does not justify the means. The means are what matter.
Another thing I got from the book was that many other sci-fi books and films have elements taken from this book. Whether conciously or not is debatable. Inception. The Matirx. Among others. Keep in mind, this book was published in 1971.
The book reads rather like Orwell's 1984. Not a whole lot of character development. The similar distopian theme.
I have run out of laud for the time being. I guess I should digest it a bit more and perhaps add another installment after I watch the show they made of it.
1. Pale yellow. 2. Any plant of the genus Primula, as P. vulgaris (English
primrose), of Europe, having yellow flowers, or P. sinensis (Chinese
primrose), of China, having flowers in a variety of colors. Compare
primrose family. 3. Evening primrose.
A story for this one:
remember summer nights long ago and far away. (Okay, not so long ago,
perhaps 15 years, and only a few hundred miles west.) My mother grew a
plethora of flowers and vegetables and herbs and everything else. Among
them were evening primrose.
I remember waiting as the twilight darkened, watching the folded yellow
flowers. They would suddenly begin to uncurl and spread their petals. A
lovely sweet scent would be exposed and hawk moths would begin dive-bombing them. And now I'm thinking of hawk moths and how they are the adult version of tomato worms (hornworms)..
I used to help my mom rid the tomatoes of them and feed them to the
chickens. They're large. And they click and flail and try to pinch and
I spent a lot of money today. And it was not really of my own volition.
After working from 7:30 am until 8:30 pm, I went to a bar with some coworkers. I had a beer and a nice long chat with them. I didn't arrive home until nearly midnight due to the excessive chatting. And, because I live on a fairly busy street, I couldn't find parking out front. I was surprised to find some on a sidestreet and gratefully took it. I was awakened at 9:00 today by an alarm telling me I had a dental appointment at 10. So I walked down there. Shelled out (rather, swiped my card) $540 for a very tall man to poke me with needles, drill away parts of my teeth and press malleable metal into the recesses. So was poor and numbed on my walk back home. Only to find that my car door held the dreaded yellow envelope of a parking ticket. It's apparently street sweeping day on that side of that street. First time in the new place. And to ad insult to injury, er injury to insult, the envelope actually gave me a paper cut when I opened it. Fun weekend beginnings.