the sun is too strong in utah. i'm slowly turning blonde. *sigh* this inane observation has been fairly characteristic of my day. nothingness and boredom galore. i want to meet more people. i want to go and do something. i want a bit of meaning in my life, thank you. i'm all alone this weekend, and it is sucking copiously.
i'm getting preoccupied with the stupidest things because i have so little to do. i just stared at my wrist for a bit. help. i was so bored earlier today that i contemplated going back to sleep. i am just not capable of enjoying breaks. i don't really want them. or certainly not long ones.
debi is still thinking i should stick with education, and she cited summers off as an advantage of teaching. i think not, dear. it's an advantage if i take classes during that time, but it just out and out stinks if i have free time. i'd rather have to juggle my schedule and feel pressured when trying to find time off, than to have it readily available in enormous quantities.
i was trying to figure that out anyhow... presumably one gets paychecks on a regular schedule as a teacher, but this would stop in the summer. you just have to plan? is that the idea? *shrug* it wouldn't be a big problem, i guess, but i would just as soon work all year round and have occasional longer weekends to visit people. i keep staring at my sentences and trying to figure out if they're run-ons or not. i end up with multiple conjunctions and things that feel like rambling, but i can't remember the precise rules. i only assume that i must be doing it wrong. i was trying not to be preoccupied by these things... it's hard enough for me to keep any sort of journal as it is, without having to make it formal and precise. *shrug*
i'm in such a random mood this week. my thoughts have no order. i'm sitting here thinking, "i like wearing bell bottoms. i wish these fit me." exactly what was the point of my buying clothing which is too large? these jeans i can excuse since i didn't actually buy them, but upon inspection of my wardrobe, everything is too large. i think it's partly because mom buys things, but still.
when did i start getting so absorbed with appearance? it's just sad. i think it's because i'm still so convinced that people are judging with appearance as a major criterion. are they? if i think about it practically, i still think it's true, so it isn't just a gut impulse. i just wish i looked better. i suppose that's how we're trained by society, and i should just get over it. right.
many other people seem to have an attitude similar to mine. one that says basically, "no, it doesn't matter what other people look like, really. oh, but i really need to look better myself." is this hypocrisy? i'm not sure.
it's funny, i think when push comes to shove i still can't completely discount looks for other people. yes, it is a part of your assessment of people. it's automatic and hard to turn off. if you see a person who looks immaculate, then that's part of your assessment of their character. if they look roughly thrown together, then that would be noted.
for the most part the whole concept of attractiveness is sort of skewed in my vision. all the people my friends claim are attractive seem not to be particularly of interest to me. i think that for the most part everyone has beauty, but can i apply that to myself? nope.
well, i suppose this is theoretically typical of females, but i think that i tend to judge all women more harshly than men. i find it easy to appreciate beauty, but at the same time i can be rather cutting in my own head, at times.
i'm out of my mind. whenever i consider these seeming contradictions i discover that my opinions are largely formed based on mood. argh. ok, so i'm achieving my goal in starting this log. i'm finding out who i am. too bad there are apparently two of me. hmm. i think though that the ground zero me is the better, more optimistic, happier me. the depressed/angry me is an aberration. i wonder if i don't need drugs. really. are other people like this?
well, i can't be entirely screwed up, since all those who are really messed up in the head go into psychiatry. =Þ well, that's what i've heard. i'm trying to tell myself that since i'm not manic or unstable, then i must be all right. why that distinction, though? just because my moods shift relatively slowly means that i'm ok?
there are so many things about the human experience that are so unique that you'll never know if they are "normal" or acceptable. theoretically if you knew what to ask, maybe you could consult with friends, but it's entirely possible that you might be taking something for granted that is actually highly abnormal. i try to think of physical examples, but mostly they're too obvious. or they're so subtle that i can't think of them, or i'm unaware of them, following the logic i already presented.
it's easier to imagine that facets of thinking would be this way, since the mind seems to me infinitely more complicated than the body. a wonder in and of itself, considering how complex the body is.
today i found myself looking at debi's dog and considering him in terms of anatomy and structure. it's odd to look at animals or humans and consider them in terms of their constituent parts. i looked at legend at considered his ribs and his heart and lungs and whatnot. how meaningless is all that, anyhow? it seems like existence ought to be more than that, yet we're so dependent upon proper functioning of all these things. i never much liked the whole concept of physicality, and at this point i'm almost still in favour of dropping the whole thing if possible and living as a brain. yeah, i'm insane. maybe it's just because i've been judged so harshly all these years and i want to leave behind the instrument of my shame.
wow, there's a melodramatic sentence. my writing is such a joke. it's odd the turn of phrase that automatically comes to me. always awkward and overdone, with words that are too large, sentences that flap about impracticably.... the thing is that strictly speaking i have the ability to write well, i just don't tend to make use of it.
i want to dig up some of the things i submitted for my english class freshman year. i wish i still had my analysis of "You, Andrew Marvell," which i recall being so proud of at the time. that was an odd paper. i was analyzing the poem fairly late at night, and i recall that the further along i went, the more depressing every facet of the poem became. it's a good poem, but basically it said only that all of us are dying and joy is ephemeral and meaningless.
i think i obscurely get some sort of joy out of things that depressing. i guess i like having my emotions manipulated. or maybe there's just something glorious about being able to feel that depth of sadness and depression. i know that i've always felt when i'm upset a bit of a mental question as to whether or not i was encouraging myself to feel so sad. i think sometimes the answer was yes, and this was especially true when i was younger. i probably felt that there was some sort of glamour to those feelings.
generally when i'm upset now i still wonder if i'm pushing myself toward sadness, but i think maybe it's more a matter that i need to completely rid myself of the feeling, so i have to go all the way through it, first. i could just be trying to excuse myself for the same immature behaviourisms i had as an eight year old, though.
i really was like that in grade school, wasn't i? i'm finding now that a lot of the people i associate with who are younger than me can bother me. people who are in adolescence are missing humility or empathy rather often, and it gets irritating at times. i think it probably wasn't so much like that for me through those ages. i feel i've always been too self-centered, but i've been told all my life that i'm a very giving person. i suppose when i was that age i was more egocentric than i am now, but i begin to think that i just did not have typical behavior patterns for my age at that point.
i feel as though i've always been the same to a rather large extent. my current self is a slight refinement on my grade school self. i wonder if that's why i feel i'm too immature.
it has always been easy for me to find some of my flaws, but i wonder how many i'm missing. or trying to deny. it gets a bit too much for me, though, this desire to know exactly who i am and what is wrong with me. i always tackle it that way, too. what is the problem? not a good approach, i think. not holistic. certainly doesn't encourage a healthy self-image. i can be so objective about all these things, but somehow that just doesn't carry over to the end result.
i wonder if i shouldn't really start a grand list of my flaws as i once joked. i'd need another of my strengths, though. it would be an interesting project. one doubts that one would truly be honest about it, though.
it's so hard to genuinely confront fundamental flaws in self. immediately one reaches for excuses and dismissals. "well, i'm not really self-centered, it's just that i don't know what else to talk about"? it gets to the point where i don't know which idea from my head i should trust. am i legitimizing, or am i correct? i wonder if i really should try it. it might be a bit depressing for me. maybe i'll just plan out what i'm bringing up to school with me, instead. *grin*
well, it's late, and i've written way too much yet again. i begin to think i should compile this all and make some sort of textbook for psychology students. =Þ or a skewed autobiography. *yawn* *grin* who knows what i'm talking about? i can't follow me, i'm too random. well, my head has a pleasantly dizzy sensation now, so g'night.
posted by Unknown at 2:20 AM