Tired and empty...
So I've been insanely introspective over the last few hours. I've had so many thoughts crashing around in my head, so many profound (at least, profound to me) thoughts, that I'm having a hard time typing right now, trying to think about which thoughts I want to write about, which ones I need to put away for another day after today's ration has been spent, and which ones to bottle up and shelve until their eventual exploding, frothy, wretchedness is unignorable.
I'm going to start off with some song lyrics I think...
"If only I had one more chance
to change my life today
Then I would never let you go
All my friends keep telling me
That I should leave you for a while
So you must show your love to me
And tell me what you feel
I thought that even you had feelings for me too
I know I was wrong
And baby when you care, then I will be there
By your side
And now I stand here alone in the dark
Without you
There's nothing more that I would like
Than be with you
I close my eyes but I can't stop
Thinking of you
And now I stand here alone in the dark
Without you"
The song is called Alone, the artist is Lasgo. I suggest you find the Ian van Dahl remix of it, as it is terribly beautiful.
This song brings up one of the thousands of polar opposites in my life I'm torn between. This deserves some elaboration.
This particular quixotic delema is that I've experienced both total companionship, and complete and utter loneliness, and I've found that each of them is so spiritually satisfying in their own ways, but I just don't know which of the two are what I need to feel one hundred percent complete, existentially that is. There are so many times where I feel as if I could be totally happy with only my own thoughts for company for all eternity, but on the other hand, there are so terribly many times when I feel so alone I want to break, and I want nothing more than that one person to fill said loneliness.
But, does that perfect person really exist? To me, the perfect soul mate is the person that I relate to so completely, in all aspects of life, that I could spend the rest of my life just enjoying their presence, without ever saying a single word. Savvy?
But, then I realize that when I'm alone, and I have my thoughts to myself, they themselves mesh in the perfect harmony that my "ideal soulmate's" thoughts would supposably do. So that leaves me wondering, are we our own soulmate, yet unable to see that because we've been conditioned our whole lives that we're to find a mate and raise a family, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum?
I want nothing more than to be left alone with my thoughts and dreams for the rest of time, yet I want just as strongly to share them with someone forever and ever, happily ever after, insert fairly tale ending here.
Which one will really make me happy, when it all comes down to it?
Now, as an interesting addendum to this, I want to next quote a movie, Waking Life. If you haven't seen this movie, you HAVE TO. Seriously. Either find a copy, or get ahold of me and come over and watch it. Any way, I'm digressing. The quote is as follows:
Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration, and this is where I think language came from. It came from our desire to transcend our isolation and have some sort of connection with one another. And it had to be easy, when it was just simple survival, like you know...water, we came up with a sound for that, or saber-toothed tiger right behind you!, we came up with a sound for that. But, when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing. What is frustration? or what is anger? or love? When I say "love," the sound comes out of my mouth and hits the other person's ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, through their memories of love, or lack of love, and they register what I'm saying, and they say "Yes, I understand," but how do I know they understand? Words are inert; They're just symbols; They're dead. You know? And, so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed; It's unspeakable. Yet, when we communicate with one another, and we feel that we have connected, and we think that we are understood, I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion, and that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.
In other words (no pun intended), no matter how skilled one is at word crafting, every single person on the planet has a slightly different understanding of every word in their language. The reason for this is that every individual's life experiences, and how they've encountered the object of a word, will shape how they actually understand said word. And, since no two people's life experiences are identical, no one will ever truly understand what you're saying to them.
So then, with that in mind, I'm curious as to why I even try and talk to people about anything, let alone emotions, thoughts, and feelings that I've had, that I have, or that I will have.
Is anyone even listening?
I'm going to start off with some song lyrics I think...
"If only I had one more chance
to change my life today
Then I would never let you go
All my friends keep telling me
That I should leave you for a while
So you must show your love to me
And tell me what you feel
I thought that even you had feelings for me too
I know I was wrong
And baby when you care, then I will be there
By your side
And now I stand here alone in the dark
Without you
There's nothing more that I would like
Than be with you
I close my eyes but I can't stop
Thinking of you
And now I stand here alone in the dark
Without you"
The song is called Alone, the artist is Lasgo. I suggest you find the Ian van Dahl remix of it, as it is terribly beautiful.
This song brings up one of the thousands of polar opposites in my life I'm torn between. This deserves some elaboration.
This particular quixotic delema is that I've experienced both total companionship, and complete and utter loneliness, and I've found that each of them is so spiritually satisfying in their own ways, but I just don't know which of the two are what I need to feel one hundred percent complete, existentially that is. There are so many times where I feel as if I could be totally happy with only my own thoughts for company for all eternity, but on the other hand, there are so terribly many times when I feel so alone I want to break, and I want nothing more than that one person to fill said loneliness.
But, does that perfect person really exist? To me, the perfect soul mate is the person that I relate to so completely, in all aspects of life, that I could spend the rest of my life just enjoying their presence, without ever saying a single word. Savvy?
But, then I realize that when I'm alone, and I have my thoughts to myself, they themselves mesh in the perfect harmony that my "ideal soulmate's" thoughts would supposably do. So that leaves me wondering, are we our own soulmate, yet unable to see that because we've been conditioned our whole lives that we're to find a mate and raise a family, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum?
I want nothing more than to be left alone with my thoughts and dreams for the rest of time, yet I want just as strongly to share them with someone forever and ever, happily ever after, insert fairly tale ending here.
Which one will really make me happy, when it all comes down to it?
Now, as an interesting addendum to this, I want to next quote a movie, Waking Life. If you haven't seen this movie, you HAVE TO. Seriously. Either find a copy, or get ahold of me and come over and watch it. Any way, I'm digressing. The quote is as follows:
Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration, and this is where I think language came from. It came from our desire to transcend our isolation and have some sort of connection with one another. And it had to be easy, when it was just simple survival, like you know...water, we came up with a sound for that, or saber-toothed tiger right behind you!, we came up with a sound for that. But, when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing. What is frustration? or what is anger? or love? When I say "love," the sound comes out of my mouth and hits the other person's ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, through their memories of love, or lack of love, and they register what I'm saying, and they say "Yes, I understand," but how do I know they understand? Words are inert; They're just symbols; They're dead. You know? And, so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed; It's unspeakable. Yet, when we communicate with one another, and we feel that we have connected, and we think that we are understood, I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion, and that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.
In other words (no pun intended), no matter how skilled one is at word crafting, every single person on the planet has a slightly different understanding of every word in their language. The reason for this is that every individual's life experiences, and how they've encountered the object of a word, will shape how they actually understand said word. And, since no two people's life experiences are identical, no one will ever truly understand what you're saying to them.
So then, with that in mind, I'm curious as to why I even try and talk to people about anything, let alone emotions, thoughts, and feelings that I've had, that I have, or that I will have.
Is anyone even listening?