No I'm not dead.
Jun. 21st, 2003 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transomwhiplassI haven't posted in a bit. I think I may have left off with a tad of a crisis. I know that if I was my friend with my personality I would be thinking the worst had happened. Because I am a paranoid weirdo. But, I'm sure my lovely normal friends were not worried but I will pretend they did because I'm feeling cooped up in my house and pining for some adventures.
Well. I'm going to Oregon. It is official. My dad wants me to go for the Oregon Country Fair, i.e. my aunt and uncle's religion. It will involve camping and lots of hippies and lots of roughing it. I lost it when my uncle asked my dad if, "I would be able to resist the 'cannibis'." I broke down. My father, sending his baby girl to the wilderness to take in with pot smoking hippies (though my uncle and aunt don't - anymore). He was insane. But apparently my uncle is like, what my dad calls, the "mayor" of this festival of 50,000 people sleeping in the woods, and I will be fine. Anyway.
We got Harry Potter last night. I finished it. Exactly 12 hours. I will like it better the second time (I was disappointed with the 4th when I 'all-nighter'ed it, but I liked much better when I took my time). I have to say, and this isn't a spoiler for anyone who cares.. I don't think, J.K. Rowling is aging him appropriately in emotions. I mean, that has always been the thing. Harry is this boy who does these amazing things and possesses amazing traits, but he goes through the same crap and fears as everyone else. Basically. Harry comes off as an ass sometimes, which can be disheartening, but is completely typical for a 15 year old boy. I was sort of disappointed that the "big secret" wasn't much you couldn't figure out. Anyway. I won't say anything more for fear of being beaten to death by anyone reading though I don't believe, to my knowledge, that anyone gives a rat's ass, in my circle of friends, about Harry Potter- exception is Niki. Anyway. It was alright. I'm going to read books 1-4 and then give 5 another go.
In the last 100 pages, I started to feel sad. I realized, this was it. I was going to finish it. As fast as possible- I would have the longest wait possible for the next installment. I started feeling like, maybe I should save it. Savor it. Read a page a day, that is what I should have done. Read it over and over- read the things before if I wanted- but never go on. Then I would have nearly 3 years worth of pages. Instead I finished it. I'm a bit crushed that I have no more to go on, but whatever.
We went to John's birthday dinner tonight, though his actually birthday is tomorrow. That was good. I went to bed at around 1 and woke near 5. When we got home we watched "About Shimdt." It was a depressing view of sad, lonely, old man. It was kind of a stab in an open wound to see that so soon after my visit to Ohio. My grandpa seems to have sadness in his eyes. He is lonely but talks to everyone (like my mom). He doesn't have his health like Jack Nicholson, though. It was just, so depressing to see old age. People die, weekly dinners, senior specials, old friends, wrinkles, being replaced. It makes me upset. I suck at keeping up with people. I know that. I know that I barely talk to my school friends during the summer and I've asked myself the same thing before, "what will this be like when we are thousands of miles away from eachothe" I say to myself, "gosh... ______ is someone I hope I know when I'm 65." I'm just want to forge decade long bonds with people but I can't even seem to hold a constant, solid, unchanging relationship for even a year. Adolescence is a sick joke in nature. It is, in society, a time of huge important decisions- how to study, how to learn, what to do with life, and these important and tremendous responsiblities are placed in the hands of moody, hormonal, and often irresponsible, and generally totally confused, near adults. I wish someone, older, wiser would make my decisions. No one ever has though. I think I've always known that I have a choice in every matter. I know that even though I feel/say my parents are forcing me to do something- I have the power and ability (if the will is there) to get out of it. This is a time of self discovery and new challenges- new powers include finding further education/careers and the ability to reproduce. Add the pressures of society and materialism and peers and you have a terrifying stew for the the future. I worry about the world when we are truly adults. I see people everyone and their desires and drives, "Mary Lou" wants to be a doctor- I wouldn't want her within one inch of my or my children, she is so irresponsible and has x-indesirable trait. "Joe Bob" wants to be lawyer, he seems stupid, cocky, and immature- I don't see him as competent of defending me or anyone else. I see these people and I know they will make decisions, but under what influences? I know the same worry has always been there. In the 50s, parents worried abouth their children under the satanic spell of "Rock 'n' Roll," but people seem fine today. I just cannot help from feeling disheartened with today's teen and how can competent individuals grow from such seemingly "bad seeds." Sometimes I'm worried I'm being a nun, people joke, my parents joke, I joke, but I know I won't be a nun- I have no religious intentions, little-no religous devotions to speak of. Its funny how correct my meyer-briggs results were, they siad I was dominated by pragmatism, which seems to be so. I think I should have more faith in people and not give in to my judging instinct which causes me to harshly label people though I don't even know them. I don't know when/where this quality was instilled. No one I know or can think of in my past has ever seemed overly critical and judging. Sometimes I feel like a a Pilgrim screaming "WITCH" sometimes.
I worry about loved ones running in with bad crowds. Maybe that is why I label, like a giant warning tag or something. I have a huge fear of being alone, though I'm a heavily "avoidant" individual (which some people like to call anti-social, though it isn't; that is to say I would be against society- someone taking, generally violent, action against people). I flee, usually, when I'm afraid - unless, there is nowhere to flee to. Then I freeze, like a deer, hoping that by staying still I will not provoke action. I know in one, now infinitesimal in meaning, argument - I had gone to far with a long joke, I knocked my friend over the edge and she, well cracked and started yelling. I left rather than sit and take it. I'm glad I left now. Well, I wish I hadn't pushed her over the edge, but I'm glad that at that moment, I made the decision to leave. I think if I would have stayed and heard everything she had to say against me, probably all the enraging things I've ever done/said, we would have probably never mended bonds. I don't know much of what she said. I heard two fragmented senteces, snatched my books, and left blocking whatever she said from my head. I went to the library alone. I felt sick and lonely and upset. She had freaked out at me (I felt at the time) why did I have to leave, she is the one that freaked out.. she should have stormed off. But I knew she wouldn't and it was better this way. Eventually two witnesses dropped by to check on me, then left. I was happy that they cared.. but ticked off that they left. Leaving me for her, I felt. I know what an ackward position they were in now, I mean.. I also understand they left their stuff there, too. I know. At that moment, I felt I was the good person- I had done nothing, but I know that some jokes I had said over days stacked the pressure so high that just my appearance at the table was enough to set her off. I feel very bad for what happened, there is a deeper story. But it still bothers me which is why I bring it up. As much as I wanted away from the situation, I wanted to be with my friends. I was so torn in those minutes I cannot describe it, or even fully remember it- like a black out of trauma. Sometimes I skulk away from people, I'm shy, sometimes I'm outright rude to new people hanging around.. sometimes I think I want to be alone and I think how much I hate human existance in general but then the floor falls out and I realize how much I desperately, and bitterly hate lonliness. I never want to be alone. In the event that I find myself totally alone, I know what the consequence will be. But to tie my thoughts in a lovely bow and attach it lovingly to the entire package, I see myself as a series of times of complete weakness and soaring strength. My lows are incredibly low but my highs are huge. I see myself, this set of extremes and I like to pin it on hormones and crazy teenager stuff. I see myself as the most responsible person but with temporary, huge poor tendencies. I worry this on the common person. I feel I can get places, but can I handle that when I'm there? As that, I am horribly close to being like Col. Cathcart in Catch-22, applying my standards to the world, but measuring myself in their eyes. All I can say now, is I hope the world is still around when I hit my 30s. I hope that I still have friends in my 60s. I hope that I'm wrong about everyone I've ever judged, as much as I want and still continue to judge them.
----
That is enough serious reflection for noww I think. For someone who has slept about 4 hours in a day, I'm with enough energy to stay awake though I know I will conk out for hours when I do go to bed. I think I will check some email and then turn in.
Well. I'm going to Oregon. It is official. My dad wants me to go for the Oregon Country Fair, i.e. my aunt and uncle's religion. It will involve camping and lots of hippies and lots of roughing it. I lost it when my uncle asked my dad if, "I would be able to resist the 'cannibis'." I broke down. My father, sending his baby girl to the wilderness to take in with pot smoking hippies (though my uncle and aunt don't - anymore). He was insane. But apparently my uncle is like, what my dad calls, the "mayor" of this festival of 50,000 people sleeping in the woods, and I will be fine. Anyway.
We got Harry Potter last night. I finished it. Exactly 12 hours. I will like it better the second time (I was disappointed with the 4th when I 'all-nighter'ed it, but I liked much better when I took my time). I have to say, and this isn't a spoiler for anyone who cares.. I don't think, J.K. Rowling is aging him appropriately in emotions. I mean, that has always been the thing. Harry is this boy who does these amazing things and possesses amazing traits, but he goes through the same crap and fears as everyone else. Basically. Harry comes off as an ass sometimes, which can be disheartening, but is completely typical for a 15 year old boy. I was sort of disappointed that the "big secret" wasn't much you couldn't figure out. Anyway. I won't say anything more for fear of being beaten to death by anyone reading though I don't believe, to my knowledge, that anyone gives a rat's ass, in my circle of friends, about Harry Potter- exception is Niki. Anyway. It was alright. I'm going to read books 1-4 and then give 5 another go.
In the last 100 pages, I started to feel sad. I realized, this was it. I was going to finish it. As fast as possible- I would have the longest wait possible for the next installment. I started feeling like, maybe I should save it. Savor it. Read a page a day, that is what I should have done. Read it over and over- read the things before if I wanted- but never go on. Then I would have nearly 3 years worth of pages. Instead I finished it. I'm a bit crushed that I have no more to go on, but whatever.
We went to John's birthday dinner tonight, though his actually birthday is tomorrow. That was good. I went to bed at around 1 and woke near 5. When we got home we watched "About Shimdt." It was a depressing view of sad, lonely, old man. It was kind of a stab in an open wound to see that so soon after my visit to Ohio. My grandpa seems to have sadness in his eyes. He is lonely but talks to everyone (like my mom). He doesn't have his health like Jack Nicholson, though. It was just, so depressing to see old age. People die, weekly dinners, senior specials, old friends, wrinkles, being replaced. It makes me upset. I suck at keeping up with people. I know that. I know that I barely talk to my school friends during the summer and I've asked myself the same thing before, "what will this be like when we are thousands of miles away from eachothe" I say to myself, "gosh... ______ is someone I hope I know when I'm 65." I'm just want to forge decade long bonds with people but I can't even seem to hold a constant, solid, unchanging relationship for even a year. Adolescence is a sick joke in nature. It is, in society, a time of huge important decisions- how to study, how to learn, what to do with life, and these important and tremendous responsiblities are placed in the hands of moody, hormonal, and often irresponsible, and generally totally confused, near adults. I wish someone, older, wiser would make my decisions. No one ever has though. I think I've always known that I have a choice in every matter. I know that even though I feel/say my parents are forcing me to do something- I have the power and ability (if the will is there) to get out of it. This is a time of self discovery and new challenges- new powers include finding further education/careers and the ability to reproduce. Add the pressures of society and materialism and peers and you have a terrifying stew for the the future. I worry about the world when we are truly adults. I see people everyone and their desires and drives, "Mary Lou" wants to be a doctor- I wouldn't want her within one inch of my or my children, she is so irresponsible and has x-indesirable trait. "Joe Bob" wants to be lawyer, he seems stupid, cocky, and immature- I don't see him as competent of defending me or anyone else. I see these people and I know they will make decisions, but under what influences? I know the same worry has always been there. In the 50s, parents worried abouth their children under the satanic spell of "Rock 'n' Roll," but people seem fine today. I just cannot help from feeling disheartened with today's teen and how can competent individuals grow from such seemingly "bad seeds." Sometimes I'm worried I'm being a nun, people joke, my parents joke, I joke, but I know I won't be a nun- I have no religious intentions, little-no religous devotions to speak of. Its funny how correct my meyer-briggs results were, they siad I was dominated by pragmatism, which seems to be so. I think I should have more faith in people and not give in to my judging instinct which causes me to harshly label people though I don't even know them. I don't know when/where this quality was instilled. No one I know or can think of in my past has ever seemed overly critical and judging. Sometimes I feel like a a Pilgrim screaming "WITCH" sometimes.
I worry about loved ones running in with bad crowds. Maybe that is why I label, like a giant warning tag or something. I have a huge fear of being alone, though I'm a heavily "avoidant" individual (which some people like to call anti-social, though it isn't; that is to say I would be against society- someone taking, generally violent, action against people). I flee, usually, when I'm afraid - unless, there is nowhere to flee to. Then I freeze, like a deer, hoping that by staying still I will not provoke action. I know in one, now infinitesimal in meaning, argument - I had gone to far with a long joke, I knocked my friend over the edge and she, well cracked and started yelling. I left rather than sit and take it. I'm glad I left now. Well, I wish I hadn't pushed her over the edge, but I'm glad that at that moment, I made the decision to leave. I think if I would have stayed and heard everything she had to say against me, probably all the enraging things I've ever done/said, we would have probably never mended bonds. I don't know much of what she said. I heard two fragmented senteces, snatched my books, and left blocking whatever she said from my head. I went to the library alone. I felt sick and lonely and upset. She had freaked out at me (I felt at the time) why did I have to leave, she is the one that freaked out.. she should have stormed off. But I knew she wouldn't and it was better this way. Eventually two witnesses dropped by to check on me, then left. I was happy that they cared.. but ticked off that they left. Leaving me for her, I felt. I know what an ackward position they were in now, I mean.. I also understand they left their stuff there, too. I know. At that moment, I felt I was the good person- I had done nothing, but I know that some jokes I had said over days stacked the pressure so high that just my appearance at the table was enough to set her off. I feel very bad for what happened, there is a deeper story. But it still bothers me which is why I bring it up. As much as I wanted away from the situation, I wanted to be with my friends. I was so torn in those minutes I cannot describe it, or even fully remember it- like a black out of trauma. Sometimes I skulk away from people, I'm shy, sometimes I'm outright rude to new people hanging around.. sometimes I think I want to be alone and I think how much I hate human existance in general but then the floor falls out and I realize how much I desperately, and bitterly hate lonliness. I never want to be alone. In the event that I find myself totally alone, I know what the consequence will be. But to tie my thoughts in a lovely bow and attach it lovingly to the entire package, I see myself as a series of times of complete weakness and soaring strength. My lows are incredibly low but my highs are huge. I see myself, this set of extremes and I like to pin it on hormones and crazy teenager stuff. I see myself as the most responsible person but with temporary, huge poor tendencies. I worry this on the common person. I feel I can get places, but can I handle that when I'm there? As that, I am horribly close to being like Col. Cathcart in Catch-22, applying my standards to the world, but measuring myself in their eyes. All I can say now, is I hope the world is still around when I hit my 30s. I hope that I still have friends in my 60s. I hope that I'm wrong about everyone I've ever judged, as much as I want and still continue to judge them.
----
That is enough serious reflection for noww I think. For someone who has slept about 4 hours in a day, I'm with enough energy to stay awake though I know I will conk out for hours when I do go to bed. I think I will check some email and then turn in.
