(no subject)
I've felt sort of tired all week, and it isn't because of any particular lack of sleep, since I generally get in a good 7-10 hours depending on what kind of trouble I'm causing (yesterday, I literally slept from about 11 until 9 in the morning). So, I don't think that will be too good from my academic performance, but whatever.
The summer looms large in my mind, and honestly it's only when I pause and sit back to reflect that my mood slows down from this sort of maniacal-glee into something a tad more somber.
We cannot know people in their days of happiness. Yesterday I was listening to a brief segment on tests that had been administered to measure prsonality and how they looked at the metadata btween generations (from the supposed 'Greatest generation' onward). Conviction is only such when it is held under duress. It turns out that there isn't that much difference in the psychological makeup between us and the men and women that fought the Second World War, who sacrificed so much not for any particular reason but for their ideals (to say that as out of cynical character as possible). We have been makred by an easy life, in all truth, there has been no great suffering or sacrifice in the aggregate like there was before, things are 'comfortable'.
I understand that I've been sort of narrow minded of late, and a side of me has come forth that many people weren't aware of, that I was barely aware of and had long forgotten about (let's call this side the 'emo' side, because it sucks). To some degree, certain events were relevant, but in truth it was something that had been building up for the longest time, I was wasting my time in school, freezing myself in a place where I thought that I was happy. Suffering is all relative, and as I moved through a rather tumultuous time (things going on at home with Jeremy and Serenity, who will be coming back on the same day that I do; college; friends, etc.) it became really hard. The lows were just horrid, and it made everything else seems so cheap in comparison, so shallow.
It's hard to demonstrate the changes, and this certain isn't the venue to discover it in. There are people, whom I had only considered acquaintances, who are now some really great friends, and people that I've just met that I would bend over backwards for. It's been so odd that my whole life has been avoiding myself but doing it in an entirely selfish way, to go to really embracing me in ways that are inherently unselfish (to one degree or another).
What does this have to do with hard times and character?
I feel that I've been sort of unfair through all of this, that I've burdened a lot of my friends with the tumult of emotions and the shifting torrent of ideas that have raced through my head, the dam of 20 years of emotional blockage finally bursting out. There are people who claimed to care for me that are gone now, forever, but everyone else seems to still be standing and still be there as much as they can (through constraints of time and space).
It isn't at all useful to dwell on the people that were cast aside in the flood, because (original 'dead to me' reference deleted), they aren't the sort of person who brings real and lasting happines. That, according to Epicurus (who I'm going to go with on this call), is most possible through a circle of friends who you can trust (it is at least a very important factor in leading a tranquil life). I suppose that by still being there, you've pretty much demonstrated why you deserve that trust and admiration (not that it needed to be bought).
I suppose that's all that I wanted to say. I don't quite know how to phrase it less awkwardly (by todays standards of machoness), but I love you guys (you can feel free to cry now).
The summer looms large in my mind, and honestly it's only when I pause and sit back to reflect that my mood slows down from this sort of maniacal-glee into something a tad more somber.
We cannot know people in their days of happiness. Yesterday I was listening to a brief segment on tests that had been administered to measure prsonality and how they looked at the metadata btween generations (from the supposed 'Greatest generation' onward). Conviction is only such when it is held under duress. It turns out that there isn't that much difference in the psychological makeup between us and the men and women that fought the Second World War, who sacrificed so much not for any particular reason but for their ideals (to say that as out of cynical character as possible). We have been makred by an easy life, in all truth, there has been no great suffering or sacrifice in the aggregate like there was before, things are 'comfortable'.
I understand that I've been sort of narrow minded of late, and a side of me has come forth that many people weren't aware of, that I was barely aware of and had long forgotten about (let's call this side the 'emo' side, because it sucks). To some degree, certain events were relevant, but in truth it was something that had been building up for the longest time, I was wasting my time in school, freezing myself in a place where I thought that I was happy. Suffering is all relative, and as I moved through a rather tumultuous time (things going on at home with Jeremy and Serenity, who will be coming back on the same day that I do; college; friends, etc.) it became really hard. The lows were just horrid, and it made everything else seems so cheap in comparison, so shallow.
It's hard to demonstrate the changes, and this certain isn't the venue to discover it in. There are people, whom I had only considered acquaintances, who are now some really great friends, and people that I've just met that I would bend over backwards for. It's been so odd that my whole life has been avoiding myself but doing it in an entirely selfish way, to go to really embracing me in ways that are inherently unselfish (to one degree or another).
What does this have to do with hard times and character?
I feel that I've been sort of unfair through all of this, that I've burdened a lot of my friends with the tumult of emotions and the shifting torrent of ideas that have raced through my head, the dam of 20 years of emotional blockage finally bursting out. There are people who claimed to care for me that are gone now, forever, but everyone else seems to still be standing and still be there as much as they can (through constraints of time and space).
It isn't at all useful to dwell on the people that were cast aside in the flood, because (original 'dead to me' reference deleted), they aren't the sort of person who brings real and lasting happines. That, according to Epicurus (who I'm going to go with on this call), is most possible through a circle of friends who you can trust (it is at least a very important factor in leading a tranquil life). I suppose that by still being there, you've pretty much demonstrated why you deserve that trust and admiration (not that it needed to be bought).
I suppose that's all that I wanted to say. I don't quite know how to phrase it less awkwardly (by todays standards of machoness), but I love you guys (you can feel free to cry now).