(no subject)
People are too damn complicated, and groups of them are a social headache. One on their own is good. The problem's probably that I'm battling with preserving myself again. And it's probably better I not know where I stand. Makes it easy to just do whatever I am. Maybe I can make the transition from chameleon to me. But when you're standing in a group that already has a place for you and opinions formed it's hard to break out. It's just way easier in small groups. Maybe I just need to get some thicker skin.
This whole process is harder than I ever thought it would be. I am so much different than I've ever been. However, now is the time when I have to change my actions to match. I guess I never realized how weird it would be. I should give myself slack on that one. How could you ever imagine how it would be to think and feel different? I feel like a different person, even if no one else's vision had changed.
It makes dating kindof uneasy. I have no idea what to expect from myself. It's a completely with all the self-control, and better perspective. I am sure I'll do better, but it's so weird. This seems pretty cool, though. Hope it goes well.
But back to what I was saying. The hardest part about different is that everyone thinks you're the same. Even if they know you're different, they have an old-shay shaped slot in their life and group you fit into. Sure, after a while you might change the one in their life for a while, but the group seems so much harder. Group dynamics take so long to form, and are almost uncontrollable. I've been battling it for a while already. I'm not asking to change the whole dynamic, just this little part. Damnit, it's hard.
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I had a dream that I was in a library and a thicker platinum blonde girl kept talking to me. That part is fuzzy already, but I just remember talking to her and she seemed to know a lot about me. Until we talked about something I did, and she said, "yeah 6 months ago," and I started to freak out because there's no way she could know that.Then she started following me and I couldn't get away. I ran out into the parking lot to my truck. Oddly, it was shaped more like a walgreen's parking lot in an L shape. Not big enough for a library. I ran to my truck, but she started to take my plate number. I ran back and tried to jump in front of it, but she already had it on a small note pad. My plate number was way different. I tried chasing her to get the pad from her. I remember having that feeling of running and trying so hard and never being able to get what I was after. I get that feeling a lot in dreams. More on that later. Instead of the note pad, I got some papers from under her arm, and decided to use them as collateral. I ran back to my truck and locked the door. As I was running I noticed they were blood test forms. She was banging on the window almost in tears asking for them back. I looked at them further and noticed that they had lists of names and adresses. Mine was in there. So was my family's. So was a lot of other information that I can't recall. I started freaking out and circling all of the things that were about me to tear out, but soon discovered it was all about me. I cracked the window and asked her screaming if she was stalking me. I had to sit there screaming at her to get the answer, and eventually she answered a couple years. During this, my truck kept rolling on its own, and the breaks wouldnt work. Again I got that feeling of ineffectiveness. It's a little hazy, but I think I told her I am never giving it back, and cussed me out and ran and jumped into a small yellow truck, like those convertible kind chevy made for a while. She started speeding away through the parking lot, and i did after her to get her plate, but i couldnt catch her. A car backed out up into a bus and i had to slam on my brakes. I had that feeling of ineffectiveness and almost hit the car. The car had no doors, and right where I was about to hit, a dad was holding one of the newborns in the car. I apologized and explained that I just found out she was stalking me and was trying to get her plate number. He had an obese wife in the car, barely clothed. I suddenly was on foot and as i walked by the corner where the entrance was, there was another obese woman laying there unhappily with her newborn children. I walked back towards my car, suddenly having the tub of cookie dough from Albert, eating it with a spoon. I remember there being no chocolate chips at the time, which kindof made me angry at the time. I sat on the curb and ate as i reflected on what happened. just then she came up behind me looking more rational. i tried to ask her calmly what she was doing, but she blew up at me. started screaming that she wanted to kill me and saying i deserve to be shot and she wished she brought her whip. i grabbed the cookie dough and ran back to my truck where i woke up.
That dream freaked me out.
But one thing I have noticed is that most of my dreams involve me trying so hard and never getting what I worked for. Don't think it needs explaining. I think I need to definitely drive this view home. I work hard at what I want innately, and I can never change that. I do need to learn to stop worrying so much, though. I fixate, and it kills me. I need to remember to be happy now. Some part of me blames the society I was brought up in, filled with kids floating through life with no drive or vision. They tried to motivate them constantly by telling them to sacrifice now and give up happiness now for later. I wasn;t like the others though. I did what I was told, and now I am so used to guilting myself for not being where I should be, I never feel good. I never let myself just be. I look at what the next step is, and I tell myself I should be there. Sadly, I feel like I identify most strongly with Major Major:
Whatever his elders told him to do, he did. They told him to look before he leaped, and he always looked before he leaped. They told him never to put off until the next day what he could do the day before, and he never did. He was told to honor his father and his mother, and he honored his father and his mother. He was told that he should not kill, and he did not kill, until he got into the Army. Then he was told to kill, and he killed. He turned the other cheek on every occasion and always did unto others exactly as he would have had others do unto him. When he gave to charity, his left hand never knew what his right hand was doing. He never once took the name of the Lord his God in vain, committed adultery or coveted his neighbor's ass. In fact, he loved his neighbor and never even bore false witness against him.
Yet he received no respect for what he did.
This whole process is harder than I ever thought it would be. I am so much different than I've ever been. However, now is the time when I have to change my actions to match. I guess I never realized how weird it would be. I should give myself slack on that one. How could you ever imagine how it would be to think and feel different? I feel like a different person, even if no one else's vision had changed.
It makes dating kindof uneasy. I have no idea what to expect from myself. It's a completely with all the self-control, and better perspective. I am sure I'll do better, but it's so weird. This seems pretty cool, though. Hope it goes well.
But back to what I was saying. The hardest part about different is that everyone thinks you're the same. Even if they know you're different, they have an old-shay shaped slot in their life and group you fit into. Sure, after a while you might change the one in their life for a while, but the group seems so much harder. Group dynamics take so long to form, and are almost uncontrollable. I've been battling it for a while already. I'm not asking to change the whole dynamic, just this little part. Damnit, it's hard.
-----
I had a dream that I was in a library and a thicker platinum blonde girl kept talking to me. That part is fuzzy already, but I just remember talking to her and she seemed to know a lot about me. Until we talked about something I did, and she said, "yeah 6 months ago," and I started to freak out because there's no way she could know that.Then she started following me and I couldn't get away. I ran out into the parking lot to my truck. Oddly, it was shaped more like a walgreen's parking lot in an L shape. Not big enough for a library. I ran to my truck, but she started to take my plate number. I ran back and tried to jump in front of it, but she already had it on a small note pad. My plate number was way different. I tried chasing her to get the pad from her. I remember having that feeling of running and trying so hard and never being able to get what I was after. I get that feeling a lot in dreams. More on that later. Instead of the note pad, I got some papers from under her arm, and decided to use them as collateral. I ran back to my truck and locked the door. As I was running I noticed they were blood test forms. She was banging on the window almost in tears asking for them back. I looked at them further and noticed that they had lists of names and adresses. Mine was in there. So was my family's. So was a lot of other information that I can't recall. I started freaking out and circling all of the things that were about me to tear out, but soon discovered it was all about me. I cracked the window and asked her screaming if she was stalking me. I had to sit there screaming at her to get the answer, and eventually she answered a couple years. During this, my truck kept rolling on its own, and the breaks wouldnt work. Again I got that feeling of ineffectiveness. It's a little hazy, but I think I told her I am never giving it back, and cussed me out and ran and jumped into a small yellow truck, like those convertible kind chevy made for a while. She started speeding away through the parking lot, and i did after her to get her plate, but i couldnt catch her. A car backed out up into a bus and i had to slam on my brakes. I had that feeling of ineffectiveness and almost hit the car. The car had no doors, and right where I was about to hit, a dad was holding one of the newborns in the car. I apologized and explained that I just found out she was stalking me and was trying to get her plate number. He had an obese wife in the car, barely clothed. I suddenly was on foot and as i walked by the corner where the entrance was, there was another obese woman laying there unhappily with her newborn children. I walked back towards my car, suddenly having the tub of cookie dough from Albert, eating it with a spoon. I remember there being no chocolate chips at the time, which kindof made me angry at the time. I sat on the curb and ate as i reflected on what happened. just then she came up behind me looking more rational. i tried to ask her calmly what she was doing, but she blew up at me. started screaming that she wanted to kill me and saying i deserve to be shot and she wished she brought her whip. i grabbed the cookie dough and ran back to my truck where i woke up.
That dream freaked me out.
But one thing I have noticed is that most of my dreams involve me trying so hard and never getting what I worked for. Don't think it needs explaining. I think I need to definitely drive this view home. I work hard at what I want innately, and I can never change that. I do need to learn to stop worrying so much, though. I fixate, and it kills me. I need to remember to be happy now. Some part of me blames the society I was brought up in, filled with kids floating through life with no drive or vision. They tried to motivate them constantly by telling them to sacrifice now and give up happiness now for later. I wasn;t like the others though. I did what I was told, and now I am so used to guilting myself for not being where I should be, I never feel good. I never let myself just be. I look at what the next step is, and I tell myself I should be there. Sadly, I feel like I identify most strongly with Major Major:
Whatever his elders told him to do, he did. They told him to look before he leaped, and he always looked before he leaped. They told him never to put off until the next day what he could do the day before, and he never did. He was told to honor his father and his mother, and he honored his father and his mother. He was told that he should not kill, and he did not kill, until he got into the Army. Then he was told to kill, and he killed. He turned the other cheek on every occasion and always did unto others exactly as he would have had others do unto him. When he gave to charity, his left hand never knew what his right hand was doing. He never once took the name of the Lord his God in vain, committed adultery or coveted his neighbor's ass. In fact, he loved his neighbor and never even bore false witness against him.
Yet he received no respect for what he did.