Posts in category "Thoughts"

Garrulousness

I recent­ly renewed my con­tract with my cur­rent host for anoth­er year of ser­vice. I’m a lit­tle sur­prised that this page has­n’t fall­en into desue­tude over the last year. I sup­pose it’s only now, at 22, that I’m able to find mean­ing in almost all aspects of my life, that I have enough to write about. My pre­vi­ous sev­en or so pages have been rather emp­ty, although there was more vari­ety in the con­tent. I don’t think I’ve ever had a lay­out last this long.

It’s usu­al­ly when I have a neg­a­tive emo­tion that I’m able to write, but the last year has been a series of ups and downs, although most­ly ups, and con­sid­ered to be more sta­ble than pre­vi­ous years. Sometimes I can read back on pre­vi­ous entries and re-expe­ri­ence the emo­tion I was feel­ing at the time of writ­ing them. I’m sur­prised that I’m not embar­rassed about some entries, how rawly I’d express myself, and what I was think­ing at the time. I find that I’m usu­al­ly embar­rassed by how igno­rant, stu­pid, and idi­ot­ic a per­son I used to be. Aaron explains to me, of course, that it’s all just a mea­sure of how far I’ve come, but it’s some­times it’s dif­fi­cult to think of what I was like and not feel shame.

I remem­ber the nights I spent, after all class­es were fin­ished, com­ing home, cook­ing a meal, tak­ing a show­er, all I’d have left was to sit in front of my glow­ing mon­i­tor and write. When all I want­ed, at the end of the day, was to be able to turn the lights out, write until my eyes felt too tired to focus, and go to sleep sat­is­fied. I’m not sure if I remem­ber those nights fond­ly or not.

And per­haps there are more to come.

Jealousy Revisited

Jealousy is not a famil­iar emo­tion to me. I’m nev­er jeal­ous of what some­one has, sim­ply because I dis­like com­par­ing oth­ers with myself in terms of what one may earn/deserve. It’s only in my rela­tion­ships which any sort of envi­ous emo­tions sur­face, and even then, such an oner­ous emo­tion hap­pens rarely to me.

Historically speak­ing, I’m gen­er­al­ly over-con­fi­dent, and such a mind­set cre­ates very wor­ry-free rela­tion­ships. It’s when I don’t have this con­fi­dence that my mind starts to won­der. In a way, this is my inse­cu­ri­ty get­ting the bet­ter of me. It feels so odd to have to fight off this emo­tion, to have to con­stant­ly remind myself and keep my feel­ings in check. It’s almost an extreme test of how far I’ve come in my goal to be a cere­bral per­son. When I try to calm myself down I can feel my mind evening out, like a melt­ing can­dle, lev­el­ing out from heat.

So far, my jeal­ousy has been eas­i­er to con­tain than I would have believed. Maybe I’m los­ing my inse­cu­ri­ties bet­ter than I know, and I’ve come fur­ther as a per­son than I real­ized. Because of my inex­pe­ri­ence with jeal­ousy, I do salute any jeal­ousy I expe­ri­ence as a mark of true love.

Perhaps some jeal­ousy is a good thing.

The Modern Grushnitsky

Let’s see…what’s on the hate plate today?

I hate it when peo­ple, sequa­cious, super­fi­cial, pre­ten­tious, igno­rant peo­ple express false emo­tions. I hate it when peo­ple feign the extent to which their emo­tions take over them, for what­ev­er rea­son. This is all ESPECIALLY true when the per­son hap­pens to be my age or old­er.

I sup­pose I’m over­sen­si­tive to things like this. I see fake emo­tions almost as a mock­ery of any true ones that I have. I hold my emo­tions as an impor­tant part of my life, and try to expe­ri­ence each one with grav­i­ty and appre­cia­tive­ness. It’s rare that I can be affect­ed by things so much that my emo­tions take over me, so I don’t take hap­pi­ness or sad­ness light­ly, espe­cial­ly when some­one else pre­tends to expe­ri­ence them. I’ve lived too long as an unfeel­ing being, as some­one who cared for noth­ing, to have some idiot pre­tend to appre­ci­ate what has become an essen­tial part of my life.

Some peo­ple nev­er grow up.

Modesty?

Sometimes I hear some peo­ple described in a not-so-com­pli­men­ta­ry way. Some of the descrip­tions are much worse than oth­ers, but there are ones which always stick out in my mind. Things such as “creepy”, “igno­rant”, “des­per­ate”, “arro­gant”, “obnox­ious”, “unre­li­able”, or “rib­ald” are the last things I would want to be described as, and these have stuck with me ever since I gained cere­bral con­scious­ness.

However, I real­ized recent­ly that it would both­er me if some­one thought of me as a per­son who fish­es for com­pli­ments. I sup­pose that if there was some truth to this fact it would­n’t both­er me so much. Of course, I might in actu­al­i­ty be unaware of any false, inse­cure actions I may be per­form­ing, being a gen­er­al­ly inse­cure per­son in the first place.

I’m not sure why some­thing like this would both­er me so much, as opposed to some­one telling me that I’m untrust­wor­thy. Of course, some­times the fault of believ­ing that some­one is untrust­wor­thy lies in as much as the fault­er as the fault­ee. After all, a thief sus­pects a thief.

Perhaps peo­ple mis­take my attempt at mod­esty as false mod­esty. Modesty is such an impor­tant thing for me that per­haps I over stress it and it ends up back­fir­ing.

I guess the only way I’ll find out what I’m real­ly like is if some­one I trust were to tell me.

Intro

To divulge is ther­a­peu­tic.

Many may not con­scious­ly know this, but they divulge nonethe­less, for what feels bet­ter than to express one’s prob­lems or opin­ions to anoth­er? Burdens fall on more than one per­son. Convictions become stronger. In a world full of talk­ers, we need a world full of ears.

But I choose not to bur­den oth­ers with my prob­lems. I choose not to make oth­ers feel bad, or wor­ry them with won­der­ing. I don’t give peo­ple point­less details about my life, or bore them with things they don’t want to know. So I speak to what always lis­tens. I write to what is always there. I opine to what nev­er judges me.

Everyone has a sto­ry to tell.

This is mine.