(no subject)
So, tomorrow closes my first official term of college. Then begins spring break, and I'm already well into my last month of being a “minor" and I'm at that inevitable point in my life where I question everything I am, and where I came from. Obviously this is a very annoying question to ponder, considering the fact that, just like everyone else I know, I like to pretend that I know who I am. This is particularly a problem for me, as I am finding that I am the opposite of everything I thought.
Not without taking into consideration the brute forces of change, I realize that I may not have always fundamentally been such as I am now. I believe people have the ability, with exceptional events and exceptions in general (therefore shaky at best), to change core bits of their personality (either intentionally or unintentionally). Meaning, basically, that even a month ago, when my entire fucking life felt like it was going up in smoke, I may have been a twin (same background, same look, different ideas, and different morals) of myself. Therefore, with that taken into consideration, this is who I (am) find(ing) in my search for myself.
I find that I love the idea of romance, but in actuality, I am not a romantic person. I like getting shit done, reading and talking. And writing intellectually (to be revisited). I’m not a huge fan of romantic walks or staring into each other’s eyes. My eyes are brown. Thanks. Moving on.
I’ve learned that I enjoy good sex. Read, I enjoy good sex, I am not a whore. I value craftsmanship, and the general process. I love feeling sexy. I love exercising, and how beautiful I feel it makes me. I still love my high heels, but I like my jeans now too. I find I am also in preference of coupldom, as I would rather to learn well, and be comfortable, than to worry about expertise or disease (perhaps not in that order).
Again, I enjoy good writing. However, don’t assume that because I am pretty (fucking) good at writing poetry (and, I’ve heard, in general) that I’m willing to edit your most recent “essay” or… as you call it, “confession of the soul”. I mean I appreciate good writing, and perhaps that may mean that you know Keats or Yates, a poetic Plath or Hughes, maybe Sedaris (a good one!), and have studied for more than general content and diction. Creative. I appreciate intellect. Most friends I value are passionate for work, school… for life.
There is a fine line for me, I find, between being an intellectual and being an activist. This is the portion of my personality I have a difficult time figuring out. I find there will never be enough time for me to ever learn everything I want to, but how does one find time to settle on but one career for a lifetime? Is life long enough? (Or, in morbid reality, too long for what we are doing to each other, the earth?)* (see below) Regardless of which is the reality, the fact is that I’m having a hard time deciding if I want to help those in need in developing countries that certainly need more help than the majority of American, or spend my days writing about the sad state of the world. Arguably one could do both, however I feel you can only get paid for one at a time, and one must eliminate all outside influence to do either passionately. Therefore, just by proxy, I could never do either as I do the other.
To be determined: The effects of legally being able to buy alcohol, therefore eliminating the tiring (and time-consuming) possibility of getting caught.
*Again an ironic contrast, when re-reading this paragraph, as it is dedicated to balancing intellect and activism. An intellect would think there was too much time because all statistics (an intellectual measure) point to the destroying of humanity, while an activist may think there to be too little time to complete all that is needed.
Not without taking into consideration the brute forces of change, I realize that I may not have always fundamentally been such as I am now. I believe people have the ability, with exceptional events and exceptions in general (therefore shaky at best), to change core bits of their personality (either intentionally or unintentionally). Meaning, basically, that even a month ago, when my entire fucking life felt like it was going up in smoke, I may have been a twin (same background, same look, different ideas, and different morals) of myself. Therefore, with that taken into consideration, this is who I (am) find(ing) in my search for myself.
I find that I love the idea of romance, but in actuality, I am not a romantic person. I like getting shit done, reading and talking. And writing intellectually (to be revisited). I’m not a huge fan of romantic walks or staring into each other’s eyes. My eyes are brown. Thanks. Moving on.
I’ve learned that I enjoy good sex. Read, I enjoy good sex, I am not a whore. I value craftsmanship, and the general process. I love feeling sexy. I love exercising, and how beautiful I feel it makes me. I still love my high heels, but I like my jeans now too. I find I am also in preference of coupldom, as I would rather to learn well, and be comfortable, than to worry about expertise or disease (perhaps not in that order).
Again, I enjoy good writing. However, don’t assume that because I am pretty (fucking) good at writing poetry (and, I’ve heard, in general) that I’m willing to edit your most recent “essay” or… as you call it, “confession of the soul”. I mean I appreciate good writing, and perhaps that may mean that you know Keats or Yates, a poetic Plath or Hughes, maybe Sedaris (a good one!), and have studied for more than general content and diction. Creative. I appreciate intellect. Most friends I value are passionate for work, school… for life.
There is a fine line for me, I find, between being an intellectual and being an activist. This is the portion of my personality I have a difficult time figuring out. I find there will never be enough time for me to ever learn everything I want to, but how does one find time to settle on but one career for a lifetime? Is life long enough? (Or, in morbid reality, too long for what we are doing to each other, the earth?)* (see below) Regardless of which is the reality, the fact is that I’m having a hard time deciding if I want to help those in need in developing countries that certainly need more help than the majority of American, or spend my days writing about the sad state of the world. Arguably one could do both, however I feel you can only get paid for one at a time, and one must eliminate all outside influence to do either passionately. Therefore, just by proxy, I could never do either as I do the other.
To be determined: The effects of legally being able to buy alcohol, therefore eliminating the tiring (and time-consuming) possibility of getting caught.
*Again an ironic contrast, when re-reading this paragraph, as it is dedicated to balancing intellect and activism. An intellect would think there was too much time because all statistics (an intellectual measure) point to the destroying of humanity, while an activist may think there to be too little time to complete all that is needed.