(no subject)
My laptop died a few days ago. I am hoping I only need a new battery, although the entire computer may need to be replaced. That makes me feel more concern for the bonds I used on it. They could have gone into savings, something more solid. A computer is an unreliable object. Realistically, I can manage more of my life on campus and less of it with my own, personal materials. There are computers all over the place! My laptop, and all the rest of my "stuff" are a collective distraction. And yet, the internet is so needed for the lifestyle I live according to - lots of research, networking, staying updated on the news. These materials are needed for active students. I shall come up with a plan..
Wake up around 8am and ride my bike to school.
Workout a bit, get the juices flowing.
Eat something. (must remember this)
Read the paper.
Check e-mail, respond to e-mails.
Organizing.
Work.
Meetings/Some more networking.
Maybe more work, depending on my hours at the cafe.
cook + eat.
Reading.
Socializing? Intoxication?
Those last two have been a subject to consider as of late. All that I have done during the day parellels with what happens later on, whether I want it to or not. And all that I have been thinking about is expressed. Sometimes that is not welcome. I am a true Gadfly at heart. My friends all know each other, and they're all good at something. I learn a lot for them, but offer little in comparison. And yet, I am there - like a wind to move things which are presented, like a shadow to deepen their borders, I am always searching for the core. This romantic view of my individuality is optimistic but only as a defense. Being a thinker is a burden, and I have not yet figured out why I intend on living my life with this ability, the result of the oppressive environment I found myself in, hiding out and looking around, wanting to jump in and swim around with all the fish in the sea, even the ones that bite. Always different. Always a little scaley, a little spikey, spacey.
There is no reason to think that people do not love me, if my philosophy on love can ever apply. It is something that moves us to and from each other like a magnet, which cannot be controlled by one but shared by all. On the occasion where two meet and hesitate to divide, there is a stage set for something built into our history, setting dreams free and holding them down. Yet there is a sense of doubt that weighs me down, since people are always going to be judgemental - including myself - and I will not be loved according to their perceptions of me. Simply because I think it is good to use my opportunity to help others for progressive change, does not mean others will agree and hold my hand to resist the forces that unite us by pressing down on us.
As I express myself, some things may be lost in my reactions to empiricism and the hedonism I choose to partake in - drinking, smoking, drugging, etc. My friends from Pakistan live their American lives in a similar fashion. They are hard workers by the immigrant's default! It is harder for me to do well in class and balance work and play. I have had more play, less work. If they did not work, Aizad and Azwar would end up on the streets like the women and children surrounding them.
In America and many European countries, the middle class has the ability to help those who need help. Our indulgent society provokes a desire to give back, while other starved communities will take just in order to survive. As poor as we may feel while been subjected to the infamous dollar, one cannot deny the vast amount of waste we emit, especially in suburban areas. It becomes harder to provide for ourselves as we gain more responsibilities (worker, student, etc.) and easier to help others by making experienced and educated decisions. Who we work for, what we buy, where we go and what we do comprise the face of America. Gandhi said to "Be the change you wish to see in the world." And we are frustrated, thinking, "How much can we really change?" Often coming to the conclusion, "Nothing matters."
Now we are in the deep end, facing the modern dilemma. I want to shout one word off a rooftop just to escape the mundane tone it has taken on in the english vocabulary, and then jump off. I want to paint a picture of this word, and let the picture catch mothballs in an attic somewhere, or sing about it softly and forget the words.
Apathy!
It is not that everything matters - as wonderful and inspiring as optimism can be - we do have limits. As we see in children, these limits are always tested. As we grow, these limits are filled with what we have constructed, or made significant change upon. Whether these movements are a march across the country for salt, or defending one person against some bias, they are everything that matters. 'Matter' can be taken as energy in the physical sense, but it is also a conscious process. We sift through the signs in the world that become apparent to us after they have happened, and aspire to new ones in the future, all the time moving between a second and a second, wrapped up in a moment surrounded by blankets of time.
This ocean we are swimming seems loud and fierce, still and silent, and there are times when an equillibrium takes place. Nature gives us storms and sunshine which we cannot control. What we do with our fins and the vibrations we send out to our species can also move the oceans through those within it.
It is not selfish to be a middle-class American. If when we realize there is something to give we do not take advantage of that opportunity, we submit to the pull of apathy.
Apathy is a man in a church built for one god on a plantation made for all the rest who make it work. For all those searching for home, I am sending out my vibrations, and finding ways to construct you into the place I have taken for granted all these years.
Do not pity me or think I am only young. This makes me happy. And if there is anything we all realize about what "matters", happiness without harm cannot be shunned. I would feel better about myself more if I did not indulge as much as I do now. So much of it is a result of "peer pressure" - which I am writing an essay on for a scholarship. These acts are done for fun. A lot of the time I find myself looking down on the effects it has on others. Would I be looking down on myself if I could see it happening? I think so. And I think the people whose judgement I trust would respect me more (even if I do not really know them, even if they aren't alive) if I were more radical and edgey enough to channel my energy into abstaining from mind-altering substances. My mind is a natural gift, as every human's is. I choose to encourage it in so many ways. How to reason what I do to it now? Smoking for years out of boredom, drinking out of anxiety. Boredom and anxiety are existential relatives! They can be solved in better ways.
Charlene, Anita and I looked at a house today. It was beautiful. There was a public field in the front which was going to be made into a highway, but wasn't. Lots of kids were outside, they ride their motor/bikes on the field. There are about three common areas, five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a laundry room, recycling hideaway, and a weird ledge where to ancient stuffed animals live, left behind from two resident's ago! The rent is high - 350-450 - but my parent's will both give about a hundred, I will cover the rest. There is a treehouse in the back! And two gardens! And a huge hill where we are making a compost pile (Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself.) Dan, the intermediary between the landlord and the residents, seemed laid back and informed. He wants to become more politically active, and he seems drawn to Anita and Charlene being lesbians - like he will be doing good by allowing them to stay. I was deprived of attention despite my entertaining appearance. I like that a lot. I can usually tell when people give me attention based on a pretty face and blonde hair, and I try not to respond to it. This will cause me to be less "charismatic" and more "informative" - less "personality" and more "humanality" - exactly what I realized at the end of the semester and wanted to achieve. Charlene and Anita cook vegan food a lot, and I know a few recipes - so I think I might become vegan. Every time I try I see a brownie or something and forget! Living with them will be good in so many ways.
And there's a treehouse!
Wake up around 8am and ride my bike to school.
Workout a bit, get the juices flowing.
Eat something. (must remember this)
Read the paper.
Check e-mail, respond to e-mails.
Organizing.
Work.
Meetings/Some more networking.
Maybe more work, depending on my hours at the cafe.
cook + eat.
Reading.
Socializing? Intoxication?
Those last two have been a subject to consider as of late. All that I have done during the day parellels with what happens later on, whether I want it to or not. And all that I have been thinking about is expressed. Sometimes that is not welcome. I am a true Gadfly at heart. My friends all know each other, and they're all good at something. I learn a lot for them, but offer little in comparison. And yet, I am there - like a wind to move things which are presented, like a shadow to deepen their borders, I am always searching for the core. This romantic view of my individuality is optimistic but only as a defense. Being a thinker is a burden, and I have not yet figured out why I intend on living my life with this ability, the result of the oppressive environment I found myself in, hiding out and looking around, wanting to jump in and swim around with all the fish in the sea, even the ones that bite. Always different. Always a little scaley, a little spikey, spacey.
There is no reason to think that people do not love me, if my philosophy on love can ever apply. It is something that moves us to and from each other like a magnet, which cannot be controlled by one but shared by all. On the occasion where two meet and hesitate to divide, there is a stage set for something built into our history, setting dreams free and holding them down. Yet there is a sense of doubt that weighs me down, since people are always going to be judgemental - including myself - and I will not be loved according to their perceptions of me. Simply because I think it is good to use my opportunity to help others for progressive change, does not mean others will agree and hold my hand to resist the forces that unite us by pressing down on us.
As I express myself, some things may be lost in my reactions to empiricism and the hedonism I choose to partake in - drinking, smoking, drugging, etc. My friends from Pakistan live their American lives in a similar fashion. They are hard workers by the immigrant's default! It is harder for me to do well in class and balance work and play. I have had more play, less work. If they did not work, Aizad and Azwar would end up on the streets like the women and children surrounding them.
In America and many European countries, the middle class has the ability to help those who need help. Our indulgent society provokes a desire to give back, while other starved communities will take just in order to survive. As poor as we may feel while been subjected to the infamous dollar, one cannot deny the vast amount of waste we emit, especially in suburban areas. It becomes harder to provide for ourselves as we gain more responsibilities (worker, student, etc.) and easier to help others by making experienced and educated decisions. Who we work for, what we buy, where we go and what we do comprise the face of America. Gandhi said to "Be the change you wish to see in the world." And we are frustrated, thinking, "How much can we really change?" Often coming to the conclusion, "Nothing matters."
Now we are in the deep end, facing the modern dilemma. I want to shout one word off a rooftop just to escape the mundane tone it has taken on in the english vocabulary, and then jump off. I want to paint a picture of this word, and let the picture catch mothballs in an attic somewhere, or sing about it softly and forget the words.
Apathy!
It is not that everything matters - as wonderful and inspiring as optimism can be - we do have limits. As we see in children, these limits are always tested. As we grow, these limits are filled with what we have constructed, or made significant change upon. Whether these movements are a march across the country for salt, or defending one person against some bias, they are everything that matters. 'Matter' can be taken as energy in the physical sense, but it is also a conscious process. We sift through the signs in the world that become apparent to us after they have happened, and aspire to new ones in the future, all the time moving between a second and a second, wrapped up in a moment surrounded by blankets of time.
This ocean we are swimming seems loud and fierce, still and silent, and there are times when an equillibrium takes place. Nature gives us storms and sunshine which we cannot control. What we do with our fins and the vibrations we send out to our species can also move the oceans through those within it.
It is not selfish to be a middle-class American. If when we realize there is something to give we do not take advantage of that opportunity, we submit to the pull of apathy.
Apathy is a man in a church built for one god on a plantation made for all the rest who make it work. For all those searching for home, I am sending out my vibrations, and finding ways to construct you into the place I have taken for granted all these years.
Do not pity me or think I am only young. This makes me happy. And if there is anything we all realize about what "matters", happiness without harm cannot be shunned. I would feel better about myself more if I did not indulge as much as I do now. So much of it is a result of "peer pressure" - which I am writing an essay on for a scholarship. These acts are done for fun. A lot of the time I find myself looking down on the effects it has on others. Would I be looking down on myself if I could see it happening? I think so. And I think the people whose judgement I trust would respect me more (even if I do not really know them, even if they aren't alive) if I were more radical and edgey enough to channel my energy into abstaining from mind-altering substances. My mind is a natural gift, as every human's is. I choose to encourage it in so many ways. How to reason what I do to it now? Smoking for years out of boredom, drinking out of anxiety. Boredom and anxiety are existential relatives! They can be solved in better ways.
Charlene, Anita and I looked at a house today. It was beautiful. There was a public field in the front which was going to be made into a highway, but wasn't. Lots of kids were outside, they ride their motor/bikes on the field. There are about three common areas, five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a laundry room, recycling hideaway, and a weird ledge where to ancient stuffed animals live, left behind from two resident's ago! The rent is high - 350-450 - but my parent's will both give about a hundred, I will cover the rest. There is a treehouse in the back! And two gardens! And a huge hill where we are making a compost pile (Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself.) Dan, the intermediary between the landlord and the residents, seemed laid back and informed. He wants to become more politically active, and he seems drawn to Anita and Charlene being lesbians - like he will be doing good by allowing them to stay. I was deprived of attention despite my entertaining appearance. I like that a lot. I can usually tell when people give me attention based on a pretty face and blonde hair, and I try not to respond to it. This will cause me to be less "charismatic" and more "informative" - less "personality" and more "humanality" - exactly what I realized at the end of the semester and wanted to achieve. Charlene and Anita cook vegan food a lot, and I know a few recipes - so I think I might become vegan. Every time I try I see a brownie or something and forget! Living with them will be good in so many ways.
And there's a treehouse!