Anatomy of hollow Doubts
... because sometimes its good to write these things down.
Part I- repetition and a trap I see I'm springing.
5 hours of sleep seems more than it seems sometimes. depending on the person and what their doing? idunno. I wrote in my livejournal as a responce to myself that it was somewhat niave to try and write a 12pg paper in 1 night without having read any of my sources. I did the same thing last night, only I didn't have the extra day and a half it took. You'd think I'd learn. stupid 12.
Part II
My japanese history proffesor shook something loose in me (probably without aiming to). Politely he encourages me not to waste my talents- to work harder, give more effort, because I'm smart. I feel we can't communicate our motivations to one another. I later wonder if he's right and he certainly is in a way. I make my life easier because easier is easier for me. I never study to my full potential or try as hard as I can (does this sound like I'm being hard on myself? I'm not, trust me. Its even more selfish than that would be). I went to WMU because it was easier and cheaper- which translates into easier in this case. Is it a matter of being afraid to swing the bat? I blame sports, I blame the system of college and capitalism. I don't like the stress so I look at things optimistically to make things easier on myself. I don't like being tired or pressured because it makes it harder to hang on to my religious integrity? I never try to talk about the complicated things in my head because I dont think anyone wants to hear them and I tell myself words are futile anyway. My sister used to tell me that she feels bad for me because all my friends aren't very smart like me. I don't think she's as smart as me either, i admit it. Is that why I'm a christian, because I control my version of something I don't believe to my own end? I get to be the clever one who creates the religion for those around me? I don't like the idea of working 8 hours 5 days a week, so I reject materialism, and assume that now its okay to be lazy and happy and think about myself a lot? I may never really try for the majority of my life, theres just something lazy about me. Instead I will do the hardest thing of all: always make everything easy. With God, (because I actually do believe in him after all) I don't try. I get frustrated that growing takes so long, but its because I don't want to even when I know I do. Its bad feeling like you aren't good enough... Its also bad feeling like you are good enough but you never try. Thats the feeling in these questions. These questions, blazing with selfishness, are a disgusting and pitiful flickering flame that seems like a bonfire up close. DISGUSTING. PITIFUL.
and I don't actually believe these doubts. I think they are foolish and the result of being tired and busy. But I will grab them and pull them out of the dark instead of letting them stay there while I tell myself I practically already see them plainly, thus letting them linger and bother me later.
These thoughts are glowing eyes inside my very bedroom. They are the kind that you are afraid of what they belong to, and even more afraid of what is inside them that makes them glow. But I pull them out, and it becames plane for all to see that they are ugly rats. Ugly as they are, I stare them down. Now look in my eyes, rats. The eyes no longer glow; they are empty. Yes, I have rats in my room. I don't have I-don't-know-whats that I never pull out of the dark and don't admit existence to. Or if I do, they sure aren't these filthy little rats. (please rats, excuse my metaphor, because I like you, rats). I am learning to be a grabber of rats. It IS hard, and I'm never really even the one that actually grabs them, or is somehow independantly brave enough to stare them down. They see the truth in my eyes, the brown flair amidst the green and thats when they become hollow.
Part III - after the end.
I love the snowblanket outside. I want to go home I want to shave I want to sit in the shower for 45minutes doing nothing I want to eat I want to lay down and then I want to listen to a viola concert. I love you, snow. I love my cat too. Is it really worthwhile, being in love with things like snow or a cat? Katriina Ketola has a 90yr old finnish woman waddling through her house. She melts my heart by looking out the window and laughing at a mustardyellow dog in the snow. She cannot see me or hear me. She's sort of a joke to those around her, tho' it almost hurts me, I know its for good reason and likely how she'd want it. I want to put my hand on my heart and on hers. I want to bow in front of her, if not to her. She reminds me of a poem I wrote which I have come to find out is much like an already existing zen poem-
His life is not poor,
He has riches beond measure.
Pointing to the moon, gazing at the moon,
This old guest follows the way.
Conclusion
This is what the inside of doubt looks like in the brain of one of 3 billion or so warm blooded human individuals with a penis.
Part I- repetition and a trap I see I'm springing.
5 hours of sleep seems more than it seems sometimes. depending on the person and what their doing? idunno. I wrote in my livejournal as a responce to myself that it was somewhat niave to try and write a 12pg paper in 1 night without having read any of my sources. I did the same thing last night, only I didn't have the extra day and a half it took. You'd think I'd learn. stupid 12.
Part II
My japanese history proffesor shook something loose in me (probably without aiming to). Politely he encourages me not to waste my talents- to work harder, give more effort, because I'm smart. I feel we can't communicate our motivations to one another. I later wonder if he's right and he certainly is in a way. I make my life easier because easier is easier for me. I never study to my full potential or try as hard as I can (does this sound like I'm being hard on myself? I'm not, trust me. Its even more selfish than that would be). I went to WMU because it was easier and cheaper- which translates into easier in this case. Is it a matter of being afraid to swing the bat? I blame sports, I blame the system of college and capitalism. I don't like the stress so I look at things optimistically to make things easier on myself. I don't like being tired or pressured because it makes it harder to hang on to my religious integrity? I never try to talk about the complicated things in my head because I dont think anyone wants to hear them and I tell myself words are futile anyway. My sister used to tell me that she feels bad for me because all my friends aren't very smart like me. I don't think she's as smart as me either, i admit it. Is that why I'm a christian, because I control my version of something I don't believe to my own end? I get to be the clever one who creates the religion for those around me? I don't like the idea of working 8 hours 5 days a week, so I reject materialism, and assume that now its okay to be lazy and happy and think about myself a lot? I may never really try for the majority of my life, theres just something lazy about me. Instead I will do the hardest thing of all: always make everything easy. With God, (because I actually do believe in him after all) I don't try. I get frustrated that growing takes so long, but its because I don't want to even when I know I do. Its bad feeling like you aren't good enough... Its also bad feeling like you are good enough but you never try. Thats the feeling in these questions. These questions, blazing with selfishness, are a disgusting and pitiful flickering flame that seems like a bonfire up close. DISGUSTING. PITIFUL.
and I don't actually believe these doubts. I think they are foolish and the result of being tired and busy. But I will grab them and pull them out of the dark instead of letting them stay there while I tell myself I practically already see them plainly, thus letting them linger and bother me later.
These thoughts are glowing eyes inside my very bedroom. They are the kind that you are afraid of what they belong to, and even more afraid of what is inside them that makes them glow. But I pull them out, and it becames plane for all to see that they are ugly rats. Ugly as they are, I stare them down. Now look in my eyes, rats. The eyes no longer glow; they are empty. Yes, I have rats in my room. I don't have I-don't-know-whats that I never pull out of the dark and don't admit existence to. Or if I do, they sure aren't these filthy little rats. (please rats, excuse my metaphor, because I like you, rats). I am learning to be a grabber of rats. It IS hard, and I'm never really even the one that actually grabs them, or is somehow independantly brave enough to stare them down. They see the truth in my eyes, the brown flair amidst the green and thats when they become hollow.
Part III - after the end.
I love the snowblanket outside. I want to go home I want to shave I want to sit in the shower for 45minutes doing nothing I want to eat I want to lay down and then I want to listen to a viola concert. I love you, snow. I love my cat too. Is it really worthwhile, being in love with things like snow or a cat? Katriina Ketola has a 90yr old finnish woman waddling through her house. She melts my heart by looking out the window and laughing at a mustardyellow dog in the snow. She cannot see me or hear me. She's sort of a joke to those around her, tho' it almost hurts me, I know its for good reason and likely how she'd want it. I want to put my hand on my heart and on hers. I want to bow in front of her, if not to her. She reminds me of a poem I wrote which I have come to find out is much like an already existing zen poem-
His life is not poor,
He has riches beond measure.
Pointing to the moon, gazing at the moon,
This old guest follows the way.
Conclusion
This is what the inside of doubt looks like in the brain of one of 3 billion or so warm blooded human individuals with a penis.