It's not like me to reread what I write until much, much later. I'm not the editing type. I write it. It's done. It's either good or it's not, but I don't want to give myself the chance to crumple it into a tiny ball and chuck it out the window. This explains why I've written so much more than I've painted; you can't just not look at a painting after it's done. And when I stare and what's on the canvas is not at all what was in my mind's eye, I abruptly pick a tube of paint and squeeze as hard as I can until the past few hours of hard work are erased for good.
But something told me to reread, and so I did. And naturally, I deleted what I'd just spent four hours on as quickly as I could. It wasn't what I'd wanted to say. At all. It sounded whiny and intolerant. I was disturbed.
I'm sitting here trying to figure out what exactly it WAS that I wanted to say... but to be honest, I'm not even sure. See, I always look forward to Mondays - the day of the week that I reserve to be mostly alone with my thoughts, my music and my writing... but every Monday I realize the same thing -- I don't like it. Haha. I start OVERthinking and then it's all over. Bus rides are the perfect amount of time in one's day for thought. Any more or any less is not maintaining the equilibrium.
So I think I'll write a few things, pick apart pieces of my initial blog post that aren't awful, and then go to bed early for the first time ever since I arrived in this country.
1) Somewhere along the line, I apparently decided I was too godly to ever justify myself in being upset with others close to me. This seemed very normal to me until recently. Perhaps this is weird. Perhaps it is okay to be upset and have it known. I however find this to be a weakness and something that only needs a tab of perspective to "fix." Maybe I should add this to my list of Things to Think About on the Daily Bus Ride?
2) Let's pretend we're in an existential version of a Lincoln-Douglass debate here and the resolution is: "Resolved: When one must choose a singular purpose for the existence of human beings on planet Earth, the purpose of life is love." My core value in affirmation of the resolution would be Self-Growth and my criterion would be constant self-expression and constant pursuit and study of various distinct perspectives. As it turns out, my personal beliefs are very important to me and have been in the development process since I was young. I didn't realize how important they were to me until I realized that not everybody shares my views and -- furthermore -- accepting this is rather tricky. And by rather I mean very.
3) Some times I have an image of pessimistic people moping in some ironic tragedy being leisurely viewed by some "higher power" who is reclining on his La-z-boy eating popcorn and bonbon. I absolutely hate when I realize I'm that pessimistic person being watched every once in awhile. For this reason, I have a special place in my heart for the judgment of Eeyores... because it's really just a judgment back at myself for time I feel I've wasted when I knew better.
4) My Moon in Cancer has a strong hold over my Venus. But hey! I'm only 22. I'm still okay with this because I'm intrigued by it. My mom would be disturbed to hear this. I always form close bonds with those who have some pretty serious battle scars the earned from terrifying encounters with life. And if there's one thing I never ever wish to do is to belittle those little scars. They're not just little badges illustrating "I survived" but rather they're veritable badges of courage that proclaim proudly, "I kicked some ass." This is one thing that makes people truly sparkle to me.
5) I think it's cute people see my bubbly personality and think it must mean I've lived a privileged life. In economic terms, it's not too far from the truth... but in many other ways, nothing could be farther from it. Doesn't seem like something to brag about though. I'm silently proud of all that I've been through and understand that one only tries to take something like this from me if it's worth a lot.
The fact that I can't even always see what I've been through shows me that I've used my perspective in a way that few even care to know how and have declared, "Alla this was just someone's idea - it could just as well have been mine." As far as I can tell, the Catholic church began the grand notion that suffering equaled divinity. But I'm here to challenge that antiquated notion and posit that perhaps sanguinity equals divinity.
6) "Emotional pogs" is the coolest metaphor I've come up with in awhile. Woody - let's develop this one.
7) "Don't think I am who I am and where I am because I've lived my life eating just cupcakes and dancing in rainbows with sparkle ponies who exude the dulcet smell of freshly baked cookies!!" <-- no context, but nice image.
8) There was some truth to this part: "Maybe it's all been a vain journey and it wasn't that I was deserving of it all, but rather that I'm a spoiled brat that it's all magically fallen in my lap. Maybe this nonsense about thinking positively and believing that change is always for the good and that love is real and I am intrinsically worthy of being loved and that everything happens for a reason and that life is meant to be happy and that I'm just where I need to be... maybe it's all crap jammed into my head by clever, American Privilege Propaganda machines. Maybe self-growth doesn't matter in the end because maybe love isn't the purpose of life and it's all just a lie.
Fear's a sneaky little bitch like that. Effs with your mind... especially when somebody you care about it is it's mouthpiece.
9) And this is exactly why I've always felt such an exigency to travel and live abroad. Nothing tests you and who you are right now and what you believe in and where you come from and where you're going like removing yourself completely from your comfort zone. Throw yourself into a different country, a different culture, a different language and you're guaranteed to be thrown perspective-shift curve balls that demand self-growth when you least expect it.
10) When is marching to the tune of your own xylophone too much? Is there such a point? I feel pretty confused... I think I'm overtired. I was totally cool with everything that happened this weekend until I started to write about it and then read what I wrote. Now I just feel sick to my stomach. This happens very rarely... better not read much into it and call it a fluke. Cryptoquips are calling me...
XOXO
Jet-set Cupcake
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