(no subject)
Feelings.
I've noticed that this is basically all I post about. Or, at the very least, it's the only thing that I write about in an analytical sense of things. Few things interest me more than being alive and, coincidentally, feelings make up a big part of this whole mess. Sure, feelings are terribly boring when you aren't the one who's experiencing them, but bare with me here.
I am going to talk about some of my feelings.
Now take into consideration how I think about all of these internal things. Like many of the other quacks, I don't particularly believe that the motivation for an action or feeling is truthfully apparent on the surface of things. You've got to dig a bit deeper for something like that. I'm not writing a paper on theory, so don't expect an explanation for all that. Hell, I'm sure even you do this, with it being conscious about it more often than not.
Anywho. This past year has been a bitch. In short, it goes like this: I went away to college and while I was gone my mom succumbed to cancer and, currently, my dad is in Texas undergoing surgery to get rid of his own. There is no meaning or reason behind any of that and I've never really had a hand in any of it either. Thusly, I don't think it warrants much pity -- don't give me any. However, it has helped me notice something.
I don't particularly understand the concept of family.
Well, not just family in particular. I don't understand lots of things. I'm cool with that. I doubt that there are many things that can be completely understood. What gets me, though, is that the sense of family is supposed to be a palpable concept. A family is something you're supposed to experience, right? I know so little about those related to me; the ones who aren't six feet under are halfway across the country. When I am around these people, I don't feel like I can trust any of their actions at face value. Most everything I've seen happen within my family has seemed to be motivated by some sort of selfishness. When I am around other families, I can feel some sort connection. Even if there is ill will about, it's almost as if there is something in the air that I'll never get my hands on. What is that?
I feel similarly with my life. I don't particularly believe that anything has meaning. Things either happen because they are motivated by someone or, well, just because. The only thing I think we've got control over is our own actions (even that is debatable, but I'm not going to spend time on that now.) It's like there this disconnect I have between myself and my conscious reality.
Oh gosh!, there must be a less lame way to say that last sentence. Regardless. . .
It feels like there must be something I'm missing. It's like I'm not experiencing life directly. I've been able to find comfort in the fact that everything is meaningless, and that "this" is all there is, but I haven't been able to come to terms with how I "feel" when I am thinking about life. Then again, I've got a pretty good feeling that something like that is a shared feeling amongst just about anyone who's done any self-aware growing.
So I'll sit here, trying to frame my actions within their respective motivations. I'll do the same for my feelings and, most of the time, I can rationalize everything down to a base state, need, or want. Yet, somehow, I've been struggling to do this same thing with my current "disconnect." It's unsettling.
One of these days, I wish I could walk into a bookstore and find a book along the lines of "An Idiot's Guide to Staying Young."
Forget rereading what I just wrote to make sure it makes sense. I'll just figure all that out later. Right now? IT'S LUNCH TIME!
I've noticed that this is basically all I post about. Or, at the very least, it's the only thing that I write about in an analytical sense of things. Few things interest me more than being alive and, coincidentally, feelings make up a big part of this whole mess. Sure, feelings are terribly boring when you aren't the one who's experiencing them, but bare with me here.
I am going to talk about some of my feelings.
Now take into consideration how I think about all of these internal things. Like many of the other quacks, I don't particularly believe that the motivation for an action or feeling is truthfully apparent on the surface of things. You've got to dig a bit deeper for something like that. I'm not writing a paper on theory, so don't expect an explanation for all that. Hell, I'm sure even you do this, with it being conscious about it more often than not.
Anywho. This past year has been a bitch. In short, it goes like this: I went away to college and while I was gone my mom succumbed to cancer and, currently, my dad is in Texas undergoing surgery to get rid of his own. There is no meaning or reason behind any of that and I've never really had a hand in any of it either. Thusly, I don't think it warrants much pity -- don't give me any. However, it has helped me notice something.
I don't particularly understand the concept of family.
Well, not just family in particular. I don't understand lots of things. I'm cool with that. I doubt that there are many things that can be completely understood. What gets me, though, is that the sense of family is supposed to be a palpable concept. A family is something you're supposed to experience, right? I know so little about those related to me; the ones who aren't six feet under are halfway across the country. When I am around these people, I don't feel like I can trust any of their actions at face value. Most everything I've seen happen within my family has seemed to be motivated by some sort of selfishness. When I am around other families, I can feel some sort connection. Even if there is ill will about, it's almost as if there is something in the air that I'll never get my hands on. What is that?
I feel similarly with my life. I don't particularly believe that anything has meaning. Things either happen because they are motivated by someone or, well, just because. The only thing I think we've got control over is our own actions (even that is debatable, but I'm not going to spend time on that now.) It's like there this disconnect I have between myself and my conscious reality.
Oh gosh!, there must be a less lame way to say that last sentence. Regardless. . .
It feels like there must be something I'm missing. It's like I'm not experiencing life directly. I've been able to find comfort in the fact that everything is meaningless, and that "this" is all there is, but I haven't been able to come to terms with how I "feel" when I am thinking about life. Then again, I've got a pretty good feeling that something like that is a shared feeling amongst just about anyone who's done any self-aware growing.
So I'll sit here, trying to frame my actions within their respective motivations. I'll do the same for my feelings and, most of the time, I can rationalize everything down to a base state, need, or want. Yet, somehow, I've been struggling to do this same thing with my current "disconnect." It's unsettling.
One of these days, I wish I could walk into a bookstore and find a book along the lines of "An Idiot's Guide to Staying Young."
Forget rereading what I just wrote to make sure it makes sense. I'll just figure all that out later. Right now? IT'S LUNCH TIME!