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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| Last year I read l'Étranger, a book that solidified some of my beliefs for a brief period of time. I think it's kind of funny, but mostly pathetic, that I once felt so connected to a book whose impact was so profound then, but inconsequential now. The only detail I can recall, with absolute confidence, is that Marie riait toujours like a fucking bimbo.
This year, I will finish reading La Place. I wonder what profound but ephemeral impact it'll have on my feelings toward my mother, as well as what will fade away the slowest.
It might be a coincidence that I end up liking the required texts in my French classes every year, but selfishness drives me to interpret these themes in ways that inhibit rational thinking. It's taken me a long time to admit that these bouts of depressive symptoms, lasting shortly and occurring infrequently, relate mostly to the sun, which influences our weather and my happiness. And, speaking of predictable solar influences, that's why I liked l'Étranger. Good timing, then.
Sometimes I let myself hurt terribly, like half an hour ago, when my professor introduced ways to prevent suicide. I run away from my emotions easily; it's never an issue when I need to get work done. I finished taking notes with stoicism any real man would be proud to display. But sometimes, it just feels nice to feel terrible. | | |
| Fall
It seems I lose a friend every fall. It makes me wonder whether I should blame my sensitivity to seasonal changes or accept the fact it happens to everyone else.
Maybe I judge the world too quickly and harshly, but I accept my friends as wholes and, to new people I see myself interacting with later, I try to be polite. Since Megan’s death, I’ve placed less emphasis on everything save for certain priorities. That’s why today, I invest so much emotionally in my friendships and sense, with disquieting ease, subtle differences over time. Those who’ve never known loss call it paranoia. The ones who worry most blame it on profound, internal and static factors; they also assure me, unconvincingly, it’s paranoia. No one recognizes it as selfishness, though that's all it is--a desire for stability, really. Very few find this anxiety charming because in the end, I can never say I love anyone unconditionally and for eternity. I have this ironic tendency to trust, without question, new people in my life to stand at my side through my trials, whereas when those close to me show me support, I can breathe just knowing they haven’t left me, yet. And when new people in my life desert me, I barely notice. I might feel sensitive, momentarily, but it turns into bitterness and my life goes on. But sometimes when I catch myself doubting those close to me again, after a paroxysm of peace, I hate myself.
I wish this cycle could end, but I find myself vacillating so often between fears of losing them to my mistakes or sudden death as well as their love and moments I realize I can endure a world that recognizes my ultimate value the way I do with everything else. | | |
| I don't have time to think about this too carefully, but basically--
It's funny how a few years ago, we always told each other we'll never forget x and we'll always love y. Unfortunately, we each contradicted those constants throughout adolescence. Case in point: Megan's suicide. Almost none of our expectations were met in life, except the ones we worked toward. I guess what matters is how much we've matured and the fact we did together. As far as I'm concerned, in terms of love, the past is always irrelevant. When I think about how scared I was about losing you, considering all our pubescent pretensions and tendencies as well as our chemically derived depressions, it's hard to believe I love you more today than I did then. These thoughts and similar ones apply to my family and other close friends.
I have this unhealthy obsession now with suppressing my emotions whenever I have to work. I'm sorry I'm not creative anymore. | | |
| http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/04/23/bullying.suicide/index.html?iref=mpstoryview
i didn't have anywhere else to post this, but I'll make this blog public. | | |
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