Story of My Life
I've been kind of inundated with anecdotes from someone lately. Both from emailing, and from speech class. It made me realize how powerful a story is.
Everyone goes through life accumulating stories. Sometimes we find our own personal stories. Sometimes, it's stories we are only tangentially involved in. And other times, it is the stories of complete strangers.
Some are comical. Some are painful. Some are touching. Some are inspiring. Some make us laugh, some make us cry. Some are just silly, but that's okay too. Sometimes it matters who's telling the story, and whose in it. Sometimes, it doesn't. Sometimes it changes our perception of the person, and helps us understand them better. Sometimes it teaches us a lesson about life. Sometime's it's just funny, something to be laughed at, and then forgotten.
But all stories, for the duration of the tale, allow us to step into someone else's shoes. To, like a ghost, interpose our minds inside someone else's, and let our feet sink into the footprints of someone else's weight.
I think I've held back way too long in life. Especially with the internet. Especially, honestly, with blogging. All my stories just got dumped into here, this silent void of apathy where occasionally someone will comment, but more often than not, it is the silent I-read-your-post-and-it-had-words-in-it agreement. Where it does not get talked about. Where it just sits there, is acknowledged briefly, and then is sucked into the silent infinite abyss and disappears. Especially when I was at Davis. I just dumped all my woes here, and let them rot because they were out of my head, but not really gone. I regret that. I should have confided in real people more. My Davis friends are amazing people; they deserve more than shallow-shielded-Jessica.
Why do people share stories? Because they can. Because time, because life, is an hourglass glued to the table, a tape without a rewind button. Because 不告白不告. Because we have an infinite amount of love and trust, but only a finite amount of time to hand those treasures out. Because whatever you hold on to, just dies with you anyway, and is wasted.
Life is so short, and I need to share more with the world to get more out of the world.
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Less Facebook. Check. Less LJ. New WIP.
Everyone goes through life accumulating stories. Sometimes we find our own personal stories. Sometimes, it's stories we are only tangentially involved in. And other times, it is the stories of complete strangers.
Some are comical. Some are painful. Some are touching. Some are inspiring. Some make us laugh, some make us cry. Some are just silly, but that's okay too. Sometimes it matters who's telling the story, and whose in it. Sometimes, it doesn't. Sometimes it changes our perception of the person, and helps us understand them better. Sometimes it teaches us a lesson about life. Sometime's it's just funny, something to be laughed at, and then forgotten.
But all stories, for the duration of the tale, allow us to step into someone else's shoes. To, like a ghost, interpose our minds inside someone else's, and let our feet sink into the footprints of someone else's weight.
I think I've held back way too long in life. Especially with the internet. Especially, honestly, with blogging. All my stories just got dumped into here, this silent void of apathy where occasionally someone will comment, but more often than not, it is the silent I-read-your-post-and-it-had-words-in-it agreement. Where it does not get talked about. Where it just sits there, is acknowledged briefly, and then is sucked into the silent infinite abyss and disappears. Especially when I was at Davis. I just dumped all my woes here, and let them rot because they were out of my head, but not really gone. I regret that. I should have confided in real people more. My Davis friends are amazing people; they deserve more than shallow-shielded-Jessica.
Why do people share stories? Because they can. Because time, because life, is an hourglass glued to the table, a tape without a rewind button. Because 不告白不告. Because we have an infinite amount of love and trust, but only a finite amount of time to hand those treasures out. Because whatever you hold on to, just dies with you anyway, and is wasted.
Life is so short, and I need to share more with the world to get more out of the world.
-
Less Facebook. Check. Less LJ. New WIP.