Why do I write? Mostly because I feel like it. I can’t write with a pen because a computer allows me to organize my thoughts much better. I choose to publish my thoughts online. Yet I don’t write for an audience, I don’t care who reads, I don’t know who’s interested.

Does it take a reader to validate my thoughts? Not quite. I doubt I’d feel as good as I do after posting an entry if I just typed it in a text file and saved it on my hard drive. Everything I write is posted and made public. So why do I post if it doesn’t matter whether someone reads or not?

This is similar to my style of dress. The clothes I wear are a reflection of my mood, even though I don’t think anyone takes notice or actually cares.

An exercise in expression is its own reward.

I never talk loudly on my cell phone, especially on the bus, so that the people around will have no idea what the conversation is. Actually, I rarely talk loudly ever, whether I’m just in class or walking down a street, because I don’t want people around to know what I’m thinking. I avoid trying on clothes because I’m scared people will know that I’m thinking about buying a certain pair of pants. I hate asking about an item on a menu because someone will know that I’m considering a certain food. I almost never run for the bus, because if I miss it, I’m afraid that someone will know that I wanted to catch that bus.

I suppose that it’s a little different from what people get to know of me on a day to day basis. My clothes and my elocution are both ways in which I express myself, but these are both things which have been decided on beforehand. It’s the unconclusive situations that make me nervous. I think I’m just scared that people may think that I’m slow.

It’s funny that my mind considers such a thing. I generally don’t care what other people think (unless I respect them, in which case an opinion becomes overly important), so why this? Perhaps I’m just sensitive about my intelligence.

I hate it when people know what I’m thinking.

I don’t know if you have ever observed this strange thing, the self. Often the more you look the more it doesn’t seem to be like it, and the more you look the more it isn’t it.
…
If you concentrate on looking at yourself, you will find that your self will gradually separate into many startling forms. So if I have to make a summary of myself, it terrifies me. I don’t know which of the many faces represents me more and the more closely I look the clearer the transformations become, and finally only bewilderment remains.

—narrator, Soul Mountain

Out of the few things that I do well, it’s knowing myself that I take the most pride in.

Or believing that I know myself at least.

I often feel as if I know myself enough to understand the workings of my subconscious. I think it’s ludicrous when someone tells me that they have me “figured out” and this image they have of me isn’t the same as my own image of myself.

Yet how do I know which is correct? As a human, one is naturally biased when looking at anything, and when looking at oneself this bias becomes even worse. The most that one can do is recognize one’s bias, and present it so that others can understand the perspective of each opinion.

All that I can say for sure is that I will never be correct in what I think of myself. Everything that I speak about, when relating to my personality, my ideas, my thoughts, my mindset, might be totally wrong.

And knowing this has become more important than knowing myself.

Out of the storm of life I have borne away only a few ideas — and not one feeling. For a long time now I have been living, not with my heart, but with my head. I weigh, analyze my own passions and actions with severe curiosity, but without sympathy.

—Pechorin, A Hero of Our Time

When I was younger, I decided that I wanted to cast all my emotion aside, because at the time I knew nothing but pain. I set this as my goal, and started to work towards a sterile, cerebral mindset. I wanted to feel nothing, and this idea followed me through to university.

At this time, I never believed that I was completely successful; I still felt too much. However, as my situation changed, as I met new people with good hearts and minds, I experienced what happiness was like. I was never satisfied though, never happy enough, and always wanted more but could never achieve it. Suddenly, it felt as if my cerebral goal was too successful, and I was stuck, I was numb.

I’ve gone from one extreme to the other, from wanting nothing to wanting everything. In both cases I was a failure, but it’s only now that I realize that success would have assuredly meant no turning back. I believe that when a certain extent is reached, one becomes ignorant to anything that could possibly change oneself. Now I understand the balance, the dichotomy that absolutely must exist in order to have a healthy mind.

And things are much better this way.

I told Aaron a few months ago that I held his morals and attitudes towards relationships as a personal goal. Knowing him for a while and being through a few odd relationships issues with him has made me realize that he has a very healthy mindset. I’m not saying that there are bad or wrong ways of viewing relationships, I simply found that his ideas fit with my overall life goals very well. Even though I haven’t always stuck to these lofty standards in my own relationship experience, I still try to maintain this set of ideals.

I know a few people whose main goal in life is to get married. I questioned them about why they have this goal, and they would tell me that they simply don’t know. I’ve been through all types of relationship mindsets before, all fairly different, all from different manifestations of my personality. There were phases such as “I want to be in a relationship”, “I don’t think I’ll ever be in a relationship”, “I’m unsatisfied with this relationship”, “I’ve given up on relationships”, “I’ll be in this relationship for the rest of my life” (hahaha), “I don’t want to be in a relationship”, and it goes on and on.

Right now I’m not even sure what I want. I think a relationship would be great but unnecessary. I’ve stopped being dependent on someone to complete me, stopped looking at life as a deadline, and have reconsidered almost everything about what I want.

Being able to do so has made me think much more clearly and act with more conviction.