Day 3

look around me. all these people. do they think like me? not necessarily the exact same thoughts, but they gotta be similar. even my parents must have once thought like this. what happened? people everywhere more consumed about elements out of control, without really looking at themselves as a person. i look at myself as a person and wonder what the hell is going on, but i carry it along anyways. i kinda have to, i think. but people get consumed by something. something that keeps them from seeing the ridiculous for what it is, ridiculous. everyone takes things seriously to different degrees, even me.

i can be serious, i can be ridiculous. i can even be both at the same time if the situation presents itself. i think this week long diatribe is a good example of that. i’m not going to question where this went until the end though, no stop-gap benchmarks. ridiculous. i am ridiculous, and i should know it to the core, but it’s only a surface thing. if it was more at the core, i think i’d be a much more extroverted person, with less regard for anything. but that’s sheer speculation. ridiculosity burgeoning everywhere i look.

serious = the adult (right brain?).
ridiculous = the kid (left brain?).

i am both, i am neither. i can see situations with both, but normally one comes out on top. if i was too kid like i’d probably be a nutcase, if i was too serious i’d be a nutcase as well, but probably evangelical. i like the kid in me, he’s the more personable of the two. but he can be annoying, and very whiny at times. i like being serious too, i can analyze things more for what they are as opposed to what they imply. the adult is just struggling to keep the kid under control.

how can there be this dichotamy in me, without something to control it? it has to exist. left vs. right. why vs.? just because only one can prevail, doesn’t mean anything. anything can be looked at as winning. check the history books. this ambiguity has been beaten form us though. something to be frowned upon. a character flaw. people like deciders, not a waffler. those that are ambiguous can be molded? can be taken from their indecisiveness and placed on a path to deciding something through the influence of others? sounds pretty elementary, not a great thing for ambiguity either, since it is probably frowned upon because they make good sheep. i’m good at being ambiguous though. i suppose i’m good at being a sheep then.

but what choice do i have, between confrontation and sheep? i don’t like being a sheep, but i enjoy confrontation even less. must i become confrontational to grow? is there no other option? it’s definitely one thing missing from my reportoire. is it necessary though? how will i ever know unless i try? have i tried and just not been comfortable with it, and just stopped?

comfort is something that needs to be addressed. i am comfortable almost all the time. so much so that stupid things like headaches can become severly annoying. i am sitting now, very comfortably. i live in a very comfortable area of the northwest with a comfortable job living in a very comfortable apartment surrounded by many comfortable people. comfort leads to crap like this. no meaning, except what i feel, and that’s a load of crap. it makes me want to stop typing right now and end this shit, but i think there’s something behind that reaction as well.

there is no strife in my life. nothing i would consider strifeful enough. mostly money. ridiculous. if there were, i’m sure i could create something much better than i have before because the stakes are different. there are no stakes in my life, only very small ones compared with the rest of this earth. i’m always caught up in this. things could be so much worse, almost unimaginably so. everything that would steal this life from me and then some. my strife is so trivial though, and that makes my life feel the same. and yet i’m not an activist. not one of those agents of change. i am not an agent of change. then what am i? who cares? it’s trivial, right?

i like that i’m angry right now. this can affect my words so, make them bitter, make them stupid. there is absolutely nothing to be angry at. and yet i am. i feel everything i say is tinged with stupidty, everything everyone says seems tinged with it. like there’s a meaning right underneath that is not superficial, but it bestows it on a whole article of thought because it was there all along. it wants to hit me, it wants to point out all that is wrong with the existence i am a part of but i only passively observe. it wants me to be angry at everything, but that makes it only more ridiculous. the only true place to direct anger is at myself. for being so stupid and not realizing it, for being duped, for being a part in the first place. anger for me being myself. what the hell kind of way is that to go about things? i don’t want to be angry at myself. i’m quick to forgive others, but not myself? now who’s a double standard?

but my emotions linger, pointing, trying to get my attention. it influences my actions and thoughts. and not just anger, my emotions. anger is just one i can put a name to. even if i could just turn them off though, would i do it? these emtions make me what i am. it directs my intellect in ways i cannot fathom. my emotional base is me. but it shifts so often and one thing i care about deeply at one moment is pushed aside the next, depending on my emotions. but they bring me so much happiness as well. if i didn’t know this irrational anger, i wouldn’t know the irrational happy either.

it just seems like a wave, recede and come back, between everything in my life. i am a victim of sine waves wheter i like it or not. the patterns are unrecognizable, the frequency, wavelength are all unfathomable. what can i do but ride the wave? swim against it? swim with it? swim perpendicular? dive under? which direction is which? what will come form each action? what to choose? you can only choose one, make it a good one. only one choice, only one path, only one reaction. seems limited to me.

so maybe it takes work. strive for strife. get up out of bed and charge head on and be a doer. a person that does things. i wonder if i have to experience it first hand to see what it is like compared to what i have now. i find when i do things just to see what it is like, i end up in the same place i started though. a little more perspective maybe, but nothing that my person doesn’t feel like it didn’t know before. but that’s what i’m trying to break free of. the resignation to my fate.

there has got to be a different way besides resigning myself to my fate, which is to be me. maybe that isn’t so bad. maybe it is inevitable. things will definitely change, and maybe it is a good thing i’m not surprised anymore. it is part of me not to be surprised, just react accordingly. maybe it’s not the fact that i’m not surprised about anything anymore, but the fact that i don’t care. is that a part of me? why do i let myself get away with saying fuck it to somethings, but not others? why not? it’s easy isn’t it? would it even matter if i could care the way i wanted to? wouldn’t that make life more difficult?

what if the growing is already done? that’s real scary. i think there’s more room to grow but it’s going to be way out of my comfort zone, and i wouldn’t even know how to go about it. things seem to take care of themselves in the end, but the end sometimes takes a little longer to get there. so i can get out of my comfort zone, it just takes me more time.

that’s comforting.