(no subject)
A few nights ago, I was thrown into yet another sleepless night remembering all the people I used to know.
My life has, unfortunatly, taught me about the temprel nature of things like love, friendship and family. Maybe it was a faulty lesson; these days, I find myself holding back from giving as much to people as I used to in the past. Or, as my (few, but phonomanal) friends have told me, giving myself away to people who will not give back.
I realize now that a lot of issues I've had with friendships in the past stems from disapointments about not receiving back anything near to what I am (or, was) willing to give. Some of the people I've had falling outs with probably would not deem that as the catalyst to the distruction of a friendship from their side, but I think that's what it has a lot to do with it on mine. Like everyone, I've got more than my fair share of faults, but I am incredibly loyal to the people I hold close to my heart; in fact, at times, I am more loyal to others than I am to myself.
I've been examining myself from afar lately with the help of both Whit and Laura, and I've began (begun? ahh! grammar failure! can somebody tell me which one would be correct, and why?) to realize that in high school, I used to only associate myself with people who I knew would accept me for being gay. However, in retrospect, I probably would have been happier with diffrent friends... as I mentioned earlier, by the end of high school, I started dispising almost everyone I was close with in the past, and feeling incredibly drawn to people that I used to hate. I suppose, now that I am at university ( if I get better soon, that is) I've been opening my mind to making friends with all kinds of people... not only those who are accepting of me for being gay/a leftie/a vegan/whatever. And, so far, I can already see myself getting in with a fantastic group of people at school. I've already met somebody who pratically shares my brain, and another girl who is definatly best friend material.
I guess a lot of things about old friendships have really been bothering me lately. Before I moved away to University, I was cleaning out my room. I stumbled upon countless relics of my last 6 years on earth. I've always collected things that hold any sagnificance to me at all; I've got movie stubs from 2003, faded poaride pictures, ticket stubs from every plane ride I've ever been on, candy wrappers, receipts in three diffrent lanuages, old tests, and countless other things. Whitney asked me why I felt the need to keep so many "relics" around, and I started to contemplate my obsessive need to hoard everything. I realized that I am terrified of letting anything go, and that I hate forgetting. I remembered a conversation I used to have with Johanna; we concluded that we are nothing but a series of thoughts, emotions and memories. In fact, our memories essentially make who we are. So, I keep things around so that one day, if I ever forget who I am or who I was, I'd simply be able to go through all my old things and remember. That's why I used to write so much; I needed something to remember myself with, and my countless pages of banter in my old journals were what I used to fulfil that need.
However, that then brings up the point of letting go; when you grip onto the past for comfort, you can never really let go of anything.
I was talking to Taylor about all these things as well; I have all of this creative energy that I am waiting for the right medium to outlet it through. Prepahs collecting memories, as well as struggles, is just preparing me for this unspesific thing that I am waiting-- or preparing myself-- to create.
So, this entry is really going nowhere fast, but it's the first time I've felt any desire to write anything in months.
On Whitney's wall, she wrote a lyric from a song that says, " never tell anybody anything, or you'll start missing everybody."
All of those people that I knew before, despite the souring of the situations, gave me things ( some good, and some bad) that I carry around with me everywhere. I guess it wasn't a total waste.
I've got those people to thank for my zeal for life, my interest in activism, my intensified interest in environmentalism, my need for creation, my ability to see the beauty everywhere, my comfort with myself, my trips ( sometimes across an ocean, and sometimes in a stationary location), my waining youth complex, my endless search for new sensations, and so much more. I suppose I cannot hate who they were, or who they are, because they were once people I cared about deeply, and they are no better or worse than anybody else on this planet; we simply had diffrences.
Now, my T2s are knocking me out... yay, writing!
My life has, unfortunatly, taught me about the temprel nature of things like love, friendship and family. Maybe it was a faulty lesson; these days, I find myself holding back from giving as much to people as I used to in the past. Or, as my (few, but phonomanal) friends have told me, giving myself away to people who will not give back.
I realize now that a lot of issues I've had with friendships in the past stems from disapointments about not receiving back anything near to what I am (or, was) willing to give. Some of the people I've had falling outs with probably would not deem that as the catalyst to the distruction of a friendship from their side, but I think that's what it has a lot to do with it on mine. Like everyone, I've got more than my fair share of faults, but I am incredibly loyal to the people I hold close to my heart; in fact, at times, I am more loyal to others than I am to myself.
I've been examining myself from afar lately with the help of both Whit and Laura, and I've began (begun? ahh! grammar failure! can somebody tell me which one would be correct, and why?) to realize that in high school, I used to only associate myself with people who I knew would accept me for being gay. However, in retrospect, I probably would have been happier with diffrent friends... as I mentioned earlier, by the end of high school, I started dispising almost everyone I was close with in the past, and feeling incredibly drawn to people that I used to hate. I suppose, now that I am at university ( if I get better soon, that is) I've been opening my mind to making friends with all kinds of people... not only those who are accepting of me for being gay/a leftie/a vegan/whatever. And, so far, I can already see myself getting in with a fantastic group of people at school. I've already met somebody who pratically shares my brain, and another girl who is definatly best friend material.
I guess a lot of things about old friendships have really been bothering me lately. Before I moved away to University, I was cleaning out my room. I stumbled upon countless relics of my last 6 years on earth. I've always collected things that hold any sagnificance to me at all; I've got movie stubs from 2003, faded poaride pictures, ticket stubs from every plane ride I've ever been on, candy wrappers, receipts in three diffrent lanuages, old tests, and countless other things. Whitney asked me why I felt the need to keep so many "relics" around, and I started to contemplate my obsessive need to hoard everything. I realized that I am terrified of letting anything go, and that I hate forgetting. I remembered a conversation I used to have with Johanna; we concluded that we are nothing but a series of thoughts, emotions and memories. In fact, our memories essentially make who we are. So, I keep things around so that one day, if I ever forget who I am or who I was, I'd simply be able to go through all my old things and remember. That's why I used to write so much; I needed something to remember myself with, and my countless pages of banter in my old journals were what I used to fulfil that need.
However, that then brings up the point of letting go; when you grip onto the past for comfort, you can never really let go of anything.
I was talking to Taylor about all these things as well; I have all of this creative energy that I am waiting for the right medium to outlet it through. Prepahs collecting memories, as well as struggles, is just preparing me for this unspesific thing that I am waiting-- or preparing myself-- to create.
So, this entry is really going nowhere fast, but it's the first time I've felt any desire to write anything in months.
On Whitney's wall, she wrote a lyric from a song that says, " never tell anybody anything, or you'll start missing everybody."
All of those people that I knew before, despite the souring of the situations, gave me things ( some good, and some bad) that I carry around with me everywhere. I guess it wasn't a total waste.
I've got those people to thank for my zeal for life, my interest in activism, my intensified interest in environmentalism, my need for creation, my ability to see the beauty everywhere, my comfort with myself, my trips ( sometimes across an ocean, and sometimes in a stationary location), my waining youth complex, my endless search for new sensations, and so much more. I suppose I cannot hate who they were, or who they are, because they were once people I cared about deeply, and they are no better or worse than anybody else on this planet; we simply had diffrences.
Now, my T2s are knocking me out... yay, writing!