thoughts at 2 pm on an ordinary tuesday in my ordinary life
"there's a saying old,
says that love is blind;
still we're often told,
seek and ye shall find."
i'm thinking i should just cut my penis off and auction it on ebay. at least it would be worth something to me that way.
yes, i'm going through what some might call a "dry spell," only made aware to me by the fact that so many people around me are getting "involved" in various ways. even though i could say that there was someone on the horizon, the past six months have taught me to view the horizon with guarded skepticism because all too often, it's turned out to be a false dawn. i don't want to be blind to the real thing, when it happens tho, but all the same, i don't feel desperate, or frustrated (well, maybe a little sexually frustrated but it's merely the background noise of my post-Lance experience). i'm fairly content with the state of things, even if i am the only one not getting any, the only one not lingering in bed with someone, the only one of the single bunch not explicitly looking for anything. all the same, i know someone likes me, i know i've been subconsciously trying to charm someone, i know someone's possibly even reading this journal. what will i do with this someone?
i will go beyond selfishness and self-interest. i will be kind, affectionate, warm, but not clingy. i will offer the best of myself and try not to apologize or hide the worst of myself. i will try to remember to appreciate the moment without always hoping for more than i'm offered, or expecting things; i will be as selfless as possible with my love. even if this altrustic mantra is making you sick, it seems closer to some greater truth about what love really is, or should be: how many of us *want* someone to be loved just for what we offer or provide for someone? this is what i learned before--to love a person *because* he/she was that person was the most fullfilling kind of love--and it was the only time i was happy. we're almost taught to always strive for something more, and yet, this very thing makes us unhappy when we apply it to our friends, our parents, our lovers. instead, just being content with what we have been offered and appreciating that is somehow more fullfilling... within reason of course. one must always be thinking and aware so that one does not end up getting used. but if i find that this person deserves my love and affection, he will have it without any demands in return, other than honesty and respect, which i require from anyone. is this "relationship suicide"..? i don't know, but it seems like the only way to be content with all the questions and ambiguities of life... is he using me? is he on the rebound? is he a cheater? is he dull? is he neurotic? does he really love me... the same way i love him? we can never know for sure about these things, and while i don't want to be blinded by love--or like... or lust--i don't want to be driven by my own neurotic fears from past relationships, or by my selfish needs alone. i want to be content with the understanding that there are not always answers, that life can't be fit into a box, or made neat and perfectly organized; i want to remember that my first bf's failing was in understanding that love can't be scripted... that it never reads exactly like you think it will, or want it to, and if you focus on the flaws in the dialogue or plot, you'll miss the beauty of its own, unscripted originality. i've seen myself fall into this very trap before, so i know i'm not immune to it. i may have perspective--maybe even a hint of wisdom--but that doesn't mean i follow it to perfection. at the same time my first boyfriend obsessed over whether i slept in bed with him or not, i missed the fact that i loved him, diffused by my own worry about his obsessions, and the fear that there might be something more, something better out there i was missing... while the best thing i ever had was right there in bed, waiting for me.
i don't believe everything in life happens for a reason, but i'm more confident about the possibility that everything in life contains a lesson... something you can take away from the experience and build upon. most of my life, i've been fascinated with experience; this is why i think of myself as a writer... i think like one. i see the world not as black and white, but shades of grey, good and bad, strong and weak, positive and negative. i admit to being fascinated with love... death scares me. love makes me less afraid. i also admit to being bitter and cynical.
"yet in the dark streets shineth the everlasting light."
yes, even a bloody christmas carol can charm me. i'm dark and brooding... gothy even. cynical to the point of www.heartlessbitch.com. i don't smile, i love Requiems, wearing black, dark and inappropriate comedy/satire, i love to loathe the contemptible masses of humanity i see out there and arrogantly consider myself above them, or somehow more evolved. but i can't shake my father's optomism within this psychic connection to my mother's hopeless despair. i want to love humanity at the same time i detest it. maybe this is why i find myself trying to love one person, to balance out the hatred i may feel for the collective.
there are pictures of me when i smiled. i sometimes wonder why i stopped and when... i also wonder what it would take for me to smile again. cosmetic surgery? romance? death and mourning? solace? success? what does smiling really mean anyway? is it just a facade we plaster on to make the world pass by more smoothly? why are we really so afraid of saying how we really feel, like when someone asks, "how are you?" and instead of saying the truth, you say "great!" i want to be real about everything in life. i want to love selflessly without guarding my heart from pain; i want to let myself expand beyond the boxes i create, and the paradigms it seems so impossible to escape; i want to like myself even though i'm imperfect and not care whether this coffee is staining my teeth or whether my tummy is getting fatter; i want to find someone who loves my soul, not just my body; i want to believe i can, without worrying whether i will fail; i want to be more aware of my intuition, and see what's really important, without letting anything distract me. i want to be content, and stop saying i want.
says that love is blind;
still we're often told,
seek and ye shall find."
i'm thinking i should just cut my penis off and auction it on ebay. at least it would be worth something to me that way.
yes, i'm going through what some might call a "dry spell," only made aware to me by the fact that so many people around me are getting "involved" in various ways. even though i could say that there was someone on the horizon, the past six months have taught me to view the horizon with guarded skepticism because all too often, it's turned out to be a false dawn. i don't want to be blind to the real thing, when it happens tho, but all the same, i don't feel desperate, or frustrated (well, maybe a little sexually frustrated but it's merely the background noise of my post-Lance experience). i'm fairly content with the state of things, even if i am the only one not getting any, the only one not lingering in bed with someone, the only one of the single bunch not explicitly looking for anything. all the same, i know someone likes me, i know i've been subconsciously trying to charm someone, i know someone's possibly even reading this journal. what will i do with this someone?
i will go beyond selfishness and self-interest. i will be kind, affectionate, warm, but not clingy. i will offer the best of myself and try not to apologize or hide the worst of myself. i will try to remember to appreciate the moment without always hoping for more than i'm offered, or expecting things; i will be as selfless as possible with my love. even if this altrustic mantra is making you sick, it seems closer to some greater truth about what love really is, or should be: how many of us *want* someone to be loved just for what we offer or provide for someone? this is what i learned before--to love a person *because* he/she was that person was the most fullfilling kind of love--and it was the only time i was happy. we're almost taught to always strive for something more, and yet, this very thing makes us unhappy when we apply it to our friends, our parents, our lovers. instead, just being content with what we have been offered and appreciating that is somehow more fullfilling... within reason of course. one must always be thinking and aware so that one does not end up getting used. but if i find that this person deserves my love and affection, he will have it without any demands in return, other than honesty and respect, which i require from anyone. is this "relationship suicide"..? i don't know, but it seems like the only way to be content with all the questions and ambiguities of life... is he using me? is he on the rebound? is he a cheater? is he dull? is he neurotic? does he really love me... the same way i love him? we can never know for sure about these things, and while i don't want to be blinded by love--or like... or lust--i don't want to be driven by my own neurotic fears from past relationships, or by my selfish needs alone. i want to be content with the understanding that there are not always answers, that life can't be fit into a box, or made neat and perfectly organized; i want to remember that my first bf's failing was in understanding that love can't be scripted... that it never reads exactly like you think it will, or want it to, and if you focus on the flaws in the dialogue or plot, you'll miss the beauty of its own, unscripted originality. i've seen myself fall into this very trap before, so i know i'm not immune to it. i may have perspective--maybe even a hint of wisdom--but that doesn't mean i follow it to perfection. at the same time my first boyfriend obsessed over whether i slept in bed with him or not, i missed the fact that i loved him, diffused by my own worry about his obsessions, and the fear that there might be something more, something better out there i was missing... while the best thing i ever had was right there in bed, waiting for me.
i don't believe everything in life happens for a reason, but i'm more confident about the possibility that everything in life contains a lesson... something you can take away from the experience and build upon. most of my life, i've been fascinated with experience; this is why i think of myself as a writer... i think like one. i see the world not as black and white, but shades of grey, good and bad, strong and weak, positive and negative. i admit to being fascinated with love... death scares me. love makes me less afraid. i also admit to being bitter and cynical.
"yet in the dark streets shineth the everlasting light."
yes, even a bloody christmas carol can charm me. i'm dark and brooding... gothy even. cynical to the point of www.heartlessbitch.com. i don't smile, i love Requiems, wearing black, dark and inappropriate comedy/satire, i love to loathe the contemptible masses of humanity i see out there and arrogantly consider myself above them, or somehow more evolved. but i can't shake my father's optomism within this psychic connection to my mother's hopeless despair. i want to love humanity at the same time i detest it. maybe this is why i find myself trying to love one person, to balance out the hatred i may feel for the collective.
there are pictures of me when i smiled. i sometimes wonder why i stopped and when... i also wonder what it would take for me to smile again. cosmetic surgery? romance? death and mourning? solace? success? what does smiling really mean anyway? is it just a facade we plaster on to make the world pass by more smoothly? why are we really so afraid of saying how we really feel, like when someone asks, "how are you?" and instead of saying the truth, you say "great!" i want to be real about everything in life. i want to love selflessly without guarding my heart from pain; i want to let myself expand beyond the boxes i create, and the paradigms it seems so impossible to escape; i want to like myself even though i'm imperfect and not care whether this coffee is staining my teeth or whether my tummy is getting fatter; i want to find someone who loves my soul, not just my body; i want to believe i can, without worrying whether i will fail; i want to be more aware of my intuition, and see what's really important, without letting anything distract me. i want to be content, and stop saying i want.