(no subject)
Quote of the Entry:
“Broken hearts and broken bones…”
- Barenaked Ladies
…………………………
I was looking over this entry after I finished drafting it, and I realized that it was more incomplete than I hoped it would turn out. Sorry about that. I found it totally unfulfilling; hopefully it won’t suck as bad as I think it will.
… Also, if anyone leaves a comment complaining about how I didn’t use LJ cuts and it took up too much space on their friends page and it made them have to scroll up and down more than they wanted to, I’m going to reply to the post with a “Shut up, don’t be so lazy.” And I’ll follow it up with a fart sound.
………………………...
My English has gotten sloppy because I’ve only typed up one or two significant pieces of writing since last June. Sorry. I’ll try to not be too obviously rusty.
Jeez, what am I doing updating this old thing? I don’t keep this Livejournal like a normal Livejournaler keeps theirs - this thing isn’t filled with dumb quizzes I administered to myself to help me forget the fact that I’m a bored person, this thing isn’t filled with personal reminders to me or to others to do things coming up in the future, this isn’t filled with those Godforsaken “You” entries that are always completely confusing to everyone who reads them that isn’t a freakin’ bosom buddy with the author. I don’t seem to ever talk about what I did recently in here.
I’m gonna be honest with you, often times I don’t remember what I did recently. And more often times, I don’t remember what I did before the recently part of my past. Four years ago, I developed this new theory I ascribed myself to; it went like this - Don’t dwell on your past, Chris, because there wasn’t much that happened there that you particularly enjoyed. Pretend like your past was different, and your future will take a new and better course.
I tried to forget my past, and as a result, I’ve, well… forgotten much of my past. I’ve found myself saying too frequently, “Wait, when was this?” or “What are you talking about?” or “No, I wasn’t there, was I?”
It’s kind of a shame. There are some memories -- the important ones -- that I have that stand out vividly in my head. There are some good ones, but there are more bad ones. And all the same, I am thankful for the things I remember, because they help give me a sense of direction. But I'm missing a lot of the small details, mainly because I preoccupy myself with things I shouldn't be focusing my attention on. And I'm probably going to regret that even more than I am now when I'm older.
I’m rambling. That’s not good. I’d lose credit on the “Focus” if I was being graded on some fucking standardized rubric.
Note: I don’t think you can standardize the grading of kids’ work until you can standardize the kids that you’re grading. And since the human race doesn’t seem to be a bunch of lobotomized zombies like in Anthem or like in 1984, and since we, as a species, don’t appear to be going down any path that would lead us to that state of being, I think they should trash the elephantshit-stained taint that is standardized tests altogether and start focusing their attention on developing a method that works better.
The point that I think I’m trying to make in the above paragraphs is this: I’ve heard that it does not to dwell on the past. In fact, I think Dumbledore says it in one of the Harry Potter movies.
But it would seem to me that our past is what makes us who we are. And the more we mentally ruminate on our past, the more we figure out about who we are, what we stand for, and most importantly, why we are the person we have become. When we understand this, we have a better chance to determine for ourselves where we are likely to go in life, and THIS, I think, helps us to interact with others around us that we know almost nothing about.
The Livejournal entries I write tend to be stream-of-consciousness narratives told by myself, to myself, and sometimes to other people.
But in this entry, I won’t say everything that I want to say, that I ought to say, that I need to say to make this a complete entry. Here’s why:
People, to speak in a generality, take life far too seriously for their own good. Apropos, if I were to write anything in this Livejournal that would be… uh, misconstrued, or perhaps even misread… the readers would tell others and those people would talk to others and sooner or later I’d have more crap on my plate than I care to deal with. Indeed, it could significantly change the course of my life.
I’m sure you understand that you have thoughts that you know are public taboo, that you really need to keep to yourself or at least to a group of people that you know will not take what you have to say the wrong way. You can’t put these thoughts into writing where someone with the wrong idea could take matters into their own hands and cause trouble in your little life.
Note: NOTHING IS WRONG. I AM FINE AND HAPPY AS EVER I WAS. Don't think otherwise. All I’m saying is that I can’t write about all the things I’m thinking about. There are major pieces of the puzzle missing from this entry.
The story of my past - the story of my life - is what explains how I got to where I am today. I told the story once. It was at Senior Week. It was 2 in the morning. You probably know under what circumstances the story was told. But narratives told by the inebriated, to the fellow inebriated, have drastically different repercussions than confessions to a public Internet message board.
I’m going to cut to the chase. This is the 4-1-1.
This year off, this glorious year away from studies, is not so much a blessing as it is a curse.
I think I’ve been known to say that “When I die, I’m going to come back to this year and live it over and over again.” That would seem to imply that this is a joyous time for me, but I’d guess that at least some of you out there figured that there was more to it than I was letting on, and, like good friends (and like human nature says will happen), you didn’t ask prying questions that might bring out the bad side of this year, because it wasn’t socially acceptable to ask me if I was sure I was having a good time. It’s infinitely easier to pretend that nothing’s wrong rather than to recognize that something is amiss and to then challenge it.
I’m a graduate from High School. I’m not in college. Thus, this year has become almost like a sort of real-life purgatory for me.
I am no longer in High School, so I don’t go to SHS. Sounds good at first, but I have felt increasingly more and more detached from the network I’d spent years trying to find my place in. People I used to see every day I now see once every ten weeks. The rumor mill, which I so vehemently despised and yet at the same time so contradictorily connected myself to, is all but gone from my life.
Let me say something briefly about gossip. It sucks. I hate it. And I think many others share my sentiments. But it seems like it’s been somehow genetically encoded into our minds, our thoughts, our very souls, that we seek out and pass around gossip. I think it’s because it makes us feel like we are valuable, in some twisted, perverse way. And I think that a community of humans seem to need to circulate gossip as much as we need food and shelter. I hardly every hear gossip or pass on gossip any more, and to my complete disgust, I miss it.
I am not in college yet. I don’t yet have the same experiences that my similarly-aged peers from the last twelve years of my life have. I hear mixed reviews about college life, and from what I’ve heard, I would absolutely love it. As much as I wish I was in college, I am not, and that’s cause for depression.
More and more, I find myself regretting my decision to take a year off.
In short, Chris Klaniecki does not belong. I don’t belong with the intellectuals of high school anymore, and I don’t yet belong with the throng of college students. The group I fall under is high-school-educated yeomen (and yeowomen?) of the working class.
And let’s be honest. It’s pretty much me, a bunch of adults who dropped out of college, a bunch of adults who subscribe their hearts and souls to the corporate machine, and a few retired-but-want-to-do-something old fogies. Even though this is the group I’m in, I don’t belong there, either.
I haven’t felt solitude this absolute in years.
There’s more to it than just Chris not belonging anywhere. There’s the added stress of having to go to college next year.
I know, I know, it sounds like I’m contradicting myself. Let me explain.
When I signed on for this year-off idea, the way it was initially marketed to me was that the primary focus would be to recharge, as it were, so I didn’t get burned out partway through college and start suffering both physically and intellectually because of it. Sounded like the year would be a lot of relaxing.
Oooooh, no.
As it turns out, I’m basically expected to prove myself, once again, to the admissions staff at college. No one’s ever told me that they won’t let me into college if it looks like I slacked off this year, but apparently there was an “unspoken expectation” that I’d take a year off to break my ass again, doing activities that weren’t school-related.
Okay. What the fuck.
I am SICK and FUCKING TIRED of proving myself. That’s all I ever did in that dumbass building that is my alma mater. I’ve come to realize that the only time the world stops expecting you to continue to prove yourself is when you reach superfamedom. That’s the only time you can live off your past successes and no one will suggest otherwise. You know, the old, “Sure, maybe all Jesus does now is sit around and read books and watch TV and relax, but remember that time he used to work miracles? Yeah, I’ll still follow him!”
If you aren’t a superstar, you end up spending your life proving and reproving yourself to the people that hold the keys to your life - whether that be your parents, your teachers, your boss, your family. So many times are never enough for others to say, “Okay, he/she can do it, we won’t ask them to again.” There is always more ways you can prove your worth.
But I’d better get used to proving myself, because that’s the way the world is set up, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Most of us humans are bound to spend most of our lives working to prove ourselves; only a blessed few are lucky enough to be able to live off of past successes. If I boycott proving myself, then I don’t make any money and I die of thirst, starvation, or something like that.
And that’s a depressing thought, too.
This year off isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All things considered, I’m usually not having a good time.
I know that at this point some people who are reading will be disappointed in me. Listen, guys ‘n gals, I also need to acknowledge that I’ve had some rockin’ times this year. And it’s been great.
But in the weeks between the hours I get to see my friends, I’m left with nothing to distract me from my life that is this year off.
I guess I’m just growing up and realizing that the reason that many people have crappy lives isn’t because they suck at life; it’s because there’s no way around the pooey part of life that most of us have to live through in order to get to the parts we actually enjoy.
Over the past months, I’ve learned more about myself than I ever did in my middle school and high school careers combined. Some of what I’ve learned about myself is good, but some of it is bad. I’ve learned some things about myself that I really wish I hadn’t found out, but at this point it’s too late and my only course of action is to make peace with it.
For the last two years, I lived with the notion that I could make it through life on my own, that I didn’t need help to figure out for myself what my life meant (or didn’t mean) to me and to those I interact with.
Now, though, I’m beginning to wonder if this is true.
………………………………………………….
At this point, a few special shoutouts need to be given. There are a handful more people that have helped, and most of them know who they are, but especially (in alphabetical order, because it was a joint effort), Dan, Tim, Steve, and Matt, I owe you guys a huge thank you. Without your including me in after-school and weekend activities, this year would have been hell.
There is a lot more to say than this. The story of my life, or the important parts at least, which I have not divulged here (and probably never will), lie at the core of why I’m confused and depressed about a collection of things this year. The people I told at senior week understood me for who I am fully and completely. Then they went to college and I never saw them again. Haha!
I would be glad to tell you all of what I left out in here. If you know where I fucked up before in life, you might learn from my mistakes. That, plus you’ll probably understand this Klaniecki kid totally. Ask me sometime. If you thought any of this stuff was worth your time to read, you might find what wasn’t to read interesting, too.
Guys ‘n gals in college and in school, do me a favor and rock on. Keep doing what you’re doing, and if I could tell you anything, it’s this - A year is too much time for anyone to be cooped up with oneself. Don’t try this at home.
Keepin’ it real at Casa Klaniecki,
--- Chris
“Broken hearts and broken bones…”
- Barenaked Ladies
…………………………
I was looking over this entry after I finished drafting it, and I realized that it was more incomplete than I hoped it would turn out. Sorry about that. I found it totally unfulfilling; hopefully it won’t suck as bad as I think it will.
… Also, if anyone leaves a comment complaining about how I didn’t use LJ cuts and it took up too much space on their friends page and it made them have to scroll up and down more than they wanted to, I’m going to reply to the post with a “Shut up, don’t be so lazy.” And I’ll follow it up with a fart sound.
………………………...
My English has gotten sloppy because I’ve only typed up one or two significant pieces of writing since last June. Sorry. I’ll try to not be too obviously rusty.
Jeez, what am I doing updating this old thing? I don’t keep this Livejournal like a normal Livejournaler keeps theirs - this thing isn’t filled with dumb quizzes I administered to myself to help me forget the fact that I’m a bored person, this thing isn’t filled with personal reminders to me or to others to do things coming up in the future, this isn’t filled with those Godforsaken “You” entries that are always completely confusing to everyone who reads them that isn’t a freakin’ bosom buddy with the author. I don’t seem to ever talk about what I did recently in here.
I’m gonna be honest with you, often times I don’t remember what I did recently. And more often times, I don’t remember what I did before the recently part of my past. Four years ago, I developed this new theory I ascribed myself to; it went like this - Don’t dwell on your past, Chris, because there wasn’t much that happened there that you particularly enjoyed. Pretend like your past was different, and your future will take a new and better course.
I tried to forget my past, and as a result, I’ve, well… forgotten much of my past. I’ve found myself saying too frequently, “Wait, when was this?” or “What are you talking about?” or “No, I wasn’t there, was I?”
It’s kind of a shame. There are some memories -- the important ones -- that I have that stand out vividly in my head. There are some good ones, but there are more bad ones. And all the same, I am thankful for the things I remember, because they help give me a sense of direction. But I'm missing a lot of the small details, mainly because I preoccupy myself with things I shouldn't be focusing my attention on. And I'm probably going to regret that even more than I am now when I'm older.
I’m rambling. That’s not good. I’d lose credit on the “Focus” if I was being graded on some fucking standardized rubric.
Note: I don’t think you can standardize the grading of kids’ work until you can standardize the kids that you’re grading. And since the human race doesn’t seem to be a bunch of lobotomized zombies like in Anthem or like in 1984, and since we, as a species, don’t appear to be going down any path that would lead us to that state of being, I think they should trash the elephantshit-stained taint that is standardized tests altogether and start focusing their attention on developing a method that works better.
The point that I think I’m trying to make in the above paragraphs is this: I’ve heard that it does not to dwell on the past. In fact, I think Dumbledore says it in one of the Harry Potter movies.
But it would seem to me that our past is what makes us who we are. And the more we mentally ruminate on our past, the more we figure out about who we are, what we stand for, and most importantly, why we are the person we have become. When we understand this, we have a better chance to determine for ourselves where we are likely to go in life, and THIS, I think, helps us to interact with others around us that we know almost nothing about.
The Livejournal entries I write tend to be stream-of-consciousness narratives told by myself, to myself, and sometimes to other people.
But in this entry, I won’t say everything that I want to say, that I ought to say, that I need to say to make this a complete entry. Here’s why:
People, to speak in a generality, take life far too seriously for their own good. Apropos, if I were to write anything in this Livejournal that would be… uh, misconstrued, or perhaps even misread… the readers would tell others and those people would talk to others and sooner or later I’d have more crap on my plate than I care to deal with. Indeed, it could significantly change the course of my life.
I’m sure you understand that you have thoughts that you know are public taboo, that you really need to keep to yourself or at least to a group of people that you know will not take what you have to say the wrong way. You can’t put these thoughts into writing where someone with the wrong idea could take matters into their own hands and cause trouble in your little life.
Note: NOTHING IS WRONG. I AM FINE AND HAPPY AS EVER I WAS. Don't think otherwise. All I’m saying is that I can’t write about all the things I’m thinking about. There are major pieces of the puzzle missing from this entry.
The story of my past - the story of my life - is what explains how I got to where I am today. I told the story once. It was at Senior Week. It was 2 in the morning. You probably know under what circumstances the story was told. But narratives told by the inebriated, to the fellow inebriated, have drastically different repercussions than confessions to a public Internet message board.
I’m going to cut to the chase. This is the 4-1-1.
This year off, this glorious year away from studies, is not so much a blessing as it is a curse.
I think I’ve been known to say that “When I die, I’m going to come back to this year and live it over and over again.” That would seem to imply that this is a joyous time for me, but I’d guess that at least some of you out there figured that there was more to it than I was letting on, and, like good friends (and like human nature says will happen), you didn’t ask prying questions that might bring out the bad side of this year, because it wasn’t socially acceptable to ask me if I was sure I was having a good time. It’s infinitely easier to pretend that nothing’s wrong rather than to recognize that something is amiss and to then challenge it.
I’m a graduate from High School. I’m not in college. Thus, this year has become almost like a sort of real-life purgatory for me.
I am no longer in High School, so I don’t go to SHS. Sounds good at first, but I have felt increasingly more and more detached from the network I’d spent years trying to find my place in. People I used to see every day I now see once every ten weeks. The rumor mill, which I so vehemently despised and yet at the same time so contradictorily connected myself to, is all but gone from my life.
Let me say something briefly about gossip. It sucks. I hate it. And I think many others share my sentiments. But it seems like it’s been somehow genetically encoded into our minds, our thoughts, our very souls, that we seek out and pass around gossip. I think it’s because it makes us feel like we are valuable, in some twisted, perverse way. And I think that a community of humans seem to need to circulate gossip as much as we need food and shelter. I hardly every hear gossip or pass on gossip any more, and to my complete disgust, I miss it.
I am not in college yet. I don’t yet have the same experiences that my similarly-aged peers from the last twelve years of my life have. I hear mixed reviews about college life, and from what I’ve heard, I would absolutely love it. As much as I wish I was in college, I am not, and that’s cause for depression.
More and more, I find myself regretting my decision to take a year off.
In short, Chris Klaniecki does not belong. I don’t belong with the intellectuals of high school anymore, and I don’t yet belong with the throng of college students. The group I fall under is high-school-educated yeomen (and yeowomen?) of the working class.
And let’s be honest. It’s pretty much me, a bunch of adults who dropped out of college, a bunch of adults who subscribe their hearts and souls to the corporate machine, and a few retired-but-want-to-do-something old fogies. Even though this is the group I’m in, I don’t belong there, either.
I haven’t felt solitude this absolute in years.
There’s more to it than just Chris not belonging anywhere. There’s the added stress of having to go to college next year.
I know, I know, it sounds like I’m contradicting myself. Let me explain.
When I signed on for this year-off idea, the way it was initially marketed to me was that the primary focus would be to recharge, as it were, so I didn’t get burned out partway through college and start suffering both physically and intellectually because of it. Sounded like the year would be a lot of relaxing.
Oooooh, no.
As it turns out, I’m basically expected to prove myself, once again, to the admissions staff at college. No one’s ever told me that they won’t let me into college if it looks like I slacked off this year, but apparently there was an “unspoken expectation” that I’d take a year off to break my ass again, doing activities that weren’t school-related.
Okay. What the fuck.
I am SICK and FUCKING TIRED of proving myself. That’s all I ever did in that dumbass building that is my alma mater. I’ve come to realize that the only time the world stops expecting you to continue to prove yourself is when you reach superfamedom. That’s the only time you can live off your past successes and no one will suggest otherwise. You know, the old, “Sure, maybe all Jesus does now is sit around and read books and watch TV and relax, but remember that time he used to work miracles? Yeah, I’ll still follow him!”
If you aren’t a superstar, you end up spending your life proving and reproving yourself to the people that hold the keys to your life - whether that be your parents, your teachers, your boss, your family. So many times are never enough for others to say, “Okay, he/she can do it, we won’t ask them to again.” There is always more ways you can prove your worth.
But I’d better get used to proving myself, because that’s the way the world is set up, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Most of us humans are bound to spend most of our lives working to prove ourselves; only a blessed few are lucky enough to be able to live off of past successes. If I boycott proving myself, then I don’t make any money and I die of thirst, starvation, or something like that.
And that’s a depressing thought, too.
This year off isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All things considered, I’m usually not having a good time.
I know that at this point some people who are reading will be disappointed in me. Listen, guys ‘n gals, I also need to acknowledge that I’ve had some rockin’ times this year. And it’s been great.
But in the weeks between the hours I get to see my friends, I’m left with nothing to distract me from my life that is this year off.
I guess I’m just growing up and realizing that the reason that many people have crappy lives isn’t because they suck at life; it’s because there’s no way around the pooey part of life that most of us have to live through in order to get to the parts we actually enjoy.
Over the past months, I’ve learned more about myself than I ever did in my middle school and high school careers combined. Some of what I’ve learned about myself is good, but some of it is bad. I’ve learned some things about myself that I really wish I hadn’t found out, but at this point it’s too late and my only course of action is to make peace with it.
For the last two years, I lived with the notion that I could make it through life on my own, that I didn’t need help to figure out for myself what my life meant (or didn’t mean) to me and to those I interact with.
Now, though, I’m beginning to wonder if this is true.
………………………………………………….
At this point, a few special shoutouts need to be given. There are a handful more people that have helped, and most of them know who they are, but especially (in alphabetical order, because it was a joint effort), Dan, Tim, Steve, and Matt, I owe you guys a huge thank you. Without your including me in after-school and weekend activities, this year would have been hell.
There is a lot more to say than this. The story of my life, or the important parts at least, which I have not divulged here (and probably never will), lie at the core of why I’m confused and depressed about a collection of things this year. The people I told at senior week understood me for who I am fully and completely. Then they went to college and I never saw them again. Haha!
I would be glad to tell you all of what I left out in here. If you know where I fucked up before in life, you might learn from my mistakes. That, plus you’ll probably understand this Klaniecki kid totally. Ask me sometime. If you thought any of this stuff was worth your time to read, you might find what wasn’t to read interesting, too.
Guys ‘n gals in college and in school, do me a favor and rock on. Keep doing what you’re doing, and if I could tell you anything, it’s this - A year is too much time for anyone to be cooped up with oneself. Don’t try this at home.
Keepin’ it real at Casa Klaniecki,
--- Chris