Studious
I feel overwhelmingly studious, yet I am unable to study. You see I love my philosophy class and I plan to major in it. I was concerned initially with devoting my major to an area of expertise that really is hard to develop into a career. I figured political science would help me achieve my goals. I may possibly minor in that area. Yet I have come to a hard-pressed understanding of myself in recent months that I am driven too much by creativity and creative, introspective thought to make a career out of politics. In the end I would be unhappy.
My sister has recommended to me on several occasions that I major in a practical field. One in which I would benefit financially as well as mentally. I realize now that being challenged emotionally is much to my benefit, and allows me to grow as a human being. This has led me to decide on philosophy as a personal passion, as a way of being that is so uniquely myself, as well as careful of others. My sister is also quite a successful lawyer. She is drawn to analytical thought yes; yet she is also very practical, and far removed in some ways from my very fantastical ways of thinking.
I also have come to realize that if I do not express my creativity in forms such as painting, dancing, writing or theorizing, it will build up so tightly inside of me, as if my whole body were being filled with all happiness. If I do not release this happiness/joy it will burst out in the form of self-destruction. That is what has happened to me recently. I need to begin the many art projects that have been filling my heart for so long. The porcelain music boxes, the watercolor paintings of dictators, the ice cream cone paintings, also I need to write more about love. The love I have, and continue to build for myself. I need to learn to love myself. I desperately and utterly hate myself most of the time, and how could I possibly expect myself to become whole, if my feelings for myself are so deeply hurtful?
I am also very dramatic and expressive with my immediate emotions. I could cry or laugh at any moment. I wear my heart on my sleeve as they say, and fall in love a little too easily. I need to teach myself to be a little more discerning with others. Keeping people at a distance at times. I let people too far in at too quick a pace. I let people eat me up and spit me out as they wish. I know that I have so much in my life that I am active in, yet I let relationships ruin my perspective on my live. This will not continue.
My sister and I relate ourselves to Nell as we discovered ourselves. She couldn't even walk correctly until she was 23. She would walk and purposely not allow her hips to sway because she thought it was too blatant a sign of her sexuality. I feel the same way at times. I am scared of myself as a sexual being, and I feel that is part of the reason I take such an interest in the act of sex. Maybe I am scared to relate love to sex. I like giving in to my carnal desires. I recognize that as no different a desire than giving in to my desire for chocolate ice cream. It is just as a woman I am expected to be prudish with my sexuality. I am expected to be unsexual and sexual at the same time. Fuck expectations!! When I want to have sex, I have sex. Because I am a woman, and I desire sex.
So in conclusion, I feel that the moment one admits to liking daft punk, is the moment that they are closer to becoming self-realized.
My sister has recommended to me on several occasions that I major in a practical field. One in which I would benefit financially as well as mentally. I realize now that being challenged emotionally is much to my benefit, and allows me to grow as a human being. This has led me to decide on philosophy as a personal passion, as a way of being that is so uniquely myself, as well as careful of others. My sister is also quite a successful lawyer. She is drawn to analytical thought yes; yet she is also very practical, and far removed in some ways from my very fantastical ways of thinking.
I also have come to realize that if I do not express my creativity in forms such as painting, dancing, writing or theorizing, it will build up so tightly inside of me, as if my whole body were being filled with all happiness. If I do not release this happiness/joy it will burst out in the form of self-destruction. That is what has happened to me recently. I need to begin the many art projects that have been filling my heart for so long. The porcelain music boxes, the watercolor paintings of dictators, the ice cream cone paintings, also I need to write more about love. The love I have, and continue to build for myself. I need to learn to love myself. I desperately and utterly hate myself most of the time, and how could I possibly expect myself to become whole, if my feelings for myself are so deeply hurtful?
I am also very dramatic and expressive with my immediate emotions. I could cry or laugh at any moment. I wear my heart on my sleeve as they say, and fall in love a little too easily. I need to teach myself to be a little more discerning with others. Keeping people at a distance at times. I let people too far in at too quick a pace. I let people eat me up and spit me out as they wish. I know that I have so much in my life that I am active in, yet I let relationships ruin my perspective on my live. This will not continue.
My sister and I relate ourselves to Nell as we discovered ourselves. She couldn't even walk correctly until she was 23. She would walk and purposely not allow her hips to sway because she thought it was too blatant a sign of her sexuality. I feel the same way at times. I am scared of myself as a sexual being, and I feel that is part of the reason I take such an interest in the act of sex. Maybe I am scared to relate love to sex. I like giving in to my carnal desires. I recognize that as no different a desire than giving in to my desire for chocolate ice cream. It is just as a woman I am expected to be prudish with my sexuality. I am expected to be unsexual and sexual at the same time. Fuck expectations!! When I want to have sex, I have sex. Because I am a woman, and I desire sex.
So in conclusion, I feel that the moment one admits to liking daft punk, is the moment that they are closer to becoming self-realized.