school
Today was the first day of school. I'd forgotten how much I hate it. The only course I may grow to love is English. Mr. Reid sounds as interested in philosophy as I am. Here's the quick essay on my philsophy that I scribbled out a few minutes ago
When asked to write about my philosophy in class, I got genuinely excited because, to be perfectly honest, it is something that I think of often and carefully, yet something that I rarely get an opportunity to share. When I think about it, and I often do, I am a very pensive person, much more so than the average person my age. Many a time has this made me feel out of place, sometimes even superior, but always lonely, always sad, always regretful. Many a time I have wished-bitterly, angrily-that I had no mind at all with which to ponder such questions as existence, philosophy. There are burning questions in my head, questions that never go away, questions that bring tears and trembling and unhappiness. But, I suppose that these questions make up who I am, and although I resent them and sometimes even hate them, deep down I must be glad that they are part of me, because they make me unique, they are what I am.
I don’t just have one philosophy. I’m not even exactly sure what I think. Maybe that means I’m not exactly sure who I am, that I’m still figuring it all out-nevertheless, its one big question mark throbbing against my skull; I am constantly fighting the unhappiness it brings, constantly trying to sort it out, to discover myself. I have gone through countless theories in the past few years, discarding each one because of a fault that I could not live with. I don’t even know where to begin. I suppose at the beginning, if I can recall where that might be.
I have been brought up a relatively (relatively to this school, this area) observant Jew, yet as long as I can remember I have doubted the existence of a god. There is no god, I thought first, because the world is in utter chaos. Order is not order, just disorder misunderstood, thereby adding to the disorder. God cannot exist, not just because there is suffering and pain, but because God is theoretically all good, and in everything that I see and experience, pure good is simply not possible. If good exists, there must be bad as well, or else on what is good based on? And if God’s world had evil, which it certainly does, and his world is his creation-why, if his creation contains evil then he, too, must contain evil. And if God had evil and good in him, than he had too many of the same qualities of man to be a God. Which brought me to my second theory.
If God is like man, then maybe God is man. What I mean is, maybe God is just the full potential of every man and woman on this earth added together. Maybe, when we pray to God, we pray to the good inclination of man, the full intelligence of man, the compassion of man. Maybe God did exist, a little piece of him in every one of us. Only later did I find out that that theory was already in existence. I, however, had thought of it and every other philosophy completely on my own, beginning only with what I knew and building only on what I had discovered.
Those are just two of my theories on God. I have many more, too many more, on every topic imaginable. It would take me pages and pages, hours and hours, to go through them all and explain them all. The truth is, I am unable to summarize my philosophy because I don’t have one. I am just a confused, hopelessly pensive girl who doesn’t know what she thinks, so thinks of everything and rejects it all. Perhaps in time I will sort out my terribly jumbled thoughts and decide on a philosophy. I can only hope.
I got a package from Dara today, and a letter from her, too. I am rethinking swim...I might join the team, after all. And I am still terribly miserable and I don't know why.
Mboyarsky: i need help
wonderful poem: whats up baby face?
Mboyarsky: i dont know
Mboyarsky: i'm miserable
Mboyarsky: i dont know why
wonderful poem: =(
Mboyarsky: its worse than ever before. i am constantly suppressing a hysteric of tears
Mboyarsky: i feel like my entire being is weighted down by something...i dont know. something bad and dark and heavy.
Mboyarsky: every time i'm alone there are tears burning my cheeks, and, it seems, my heart simultaneously
Mboyarsky: i dont know why
Mboyarsky: its unrelenting
Mboyarsky: help me
wonderful poem: honey, i wanna give youa hug..3
Mboyarsky: i need it. i need it so badly.
wonderful poem: *hug*
Mboyarsky: whats wrong with me?
Mboyarsky: i cant even sleep. just cry.
Mboyarsky: help. i cant live like this. help me.
I won't write what I am thinking. I only want not to think it. Whatever happens, death is not an option.
When asked to write about my philosophy in class, I got genuinely excited because, to be perfectly honest, it is something that I think of often and carefully, yet something that I rarely get an opportunity to share. When I think about it, and I often do, I am a very pensive person, much more so than the average person my age. Many a time has this made me feel out of place, sometimes even superior, but always lonely, always sad, always regretful. Many a time I have wished-bitterly, angrily-that I had no mind at all with which to ponder such questions as existence, philosophy. There are burning questions in my head, questions that never go away, questions that bring tears and trembling and unhappiness. But, I suppose that these questions make up who I am, and although I resent them and sometimes even hate them, deep down I must be glad that they are part of me, because they make me unique, they are what I am.
I don’t just have one philosophy. I’m not even exactly sure what I think. Maybe that means I’m not exactly sure who I am, that I’m still figuring it all out-nevertheless, its one big question mark throbbing against my skull; I am constantly fighting the unhappiness it brings, constantly trying to sort it out, to discover myself. I have gone through countless theories in the past few years, discarding each one because of a fault that I could not live with. I don’t even know where to begin. I suppose at the beginning, if I can recall where that might be.
I have been brought up a relatively (relatively to this school, this area) observant Jew, yet as long as I can remember I have doubted the existence of a god. There is no god, I thought first, because the world is in utter chaos. Order is not order, just disorder misunderstood, thereby adding to the disorder. God cannot exist, not just because there is suffering and pain, but because God is theoretically all good, and in everything that I see and experience, pure good is simply not possible. If good exists, there must be bad as well, or else on what is good based on? And if God’s world had evil, which it certainly does, and his world is his creation-why, if his creation contains evil then he, too, must contain evil. And if God had evil and good in him, than he had too many of the same qualities of man to be a God. Which brought me to my second theory.
If God is like man, then maybe God is man. What I mean is, maybe God is just the full potential of every man and woman on this earth added together. Maybe, when we pray to God, we pray to the good inclination of man, the full intelligence of man, the compassion of man. Maybe God did exist, a little piece of him in every one of us. Only later did I find out that that theory was already in existence. I, however, had thought of it and every other philosophy completely on my own, beginning only with what I knew and building only on what I had discovered.
Those are just two of my theories on God. I have many more, too many more, on every topic imaginable. It would take me pages and pages, hours and hours, to go through them all and explain them all. The truth is, I am unable to summarize my philosophy because I don’t have one. I am just a confused, hopelessly pensive girl who doesn’t know what she thinks, so thinks of everything and rejects it all. Perhaps in time I will sort out my terribly jumbled thoughts and decide on a philosophy. I can only hope.
I got a package from Dara today, and a letter from her, too. I am rethinking swim...I might join the team, after all. And I am still terribly miserable and I don't know why.
Mboyarsky: i need help
wonderful poem: whats up baby face?
Mboyarsky: i dont know
Mboyarsky: i'm miserable
Mboyarsky: i dont know why
wonderful poem: =(
Mboyarsky: its worse than ever before. i am constantly suppressing a hysteric of tears
Mboyarsky: i feel like my entire being is weighted down by something...i dont know. something bad and dark and heavy.
Mboyarsky: every time i'm alone there are tears burning my cheeks, and, it seems, my heart simultaneously
Mboyarsky: i dont know why
Mboyarsky: its unrelenting
Mboyarsky: help me
wonderful poem: honey, i wanna give youa hug..3
Mboyarsky: i need it. i need it so badly.
wonderful poem: *hug*
Mboyarsky: whats wrong with me?
Mboyarsky: i cant even sleep. just cry.
Mboyarsky: help. i cant live like this. help me.
I won't write what I am thinking. I only want not to think it. Whatever happens, death is not an option.