2004-05-25 - 12:30 p.m.
Man, I totally opened this window with thoughts intentionally driving the motion and yet here I am now and they are gone.
I suspect they were not good thoughts and so I suppose it's really not a bad thing.
My days have these strange low peaks now, I don't know what it's about. For the other 23 hours I feel okay ... but do the low peaks mean I'm not okay? I'm not sure what to think. Perhaps it's just this week of May. I like to hope that....
Is it wrong that I don't feel so bad after having to write 300 words from the perspective of someone just diagnosed with cancer? Well, it sounds bad phrased like that. But I've been learning about cancer, and I've heard the survivor stories, and... they inspire me, and give me courage I can't find in myself for myself. If that makes any sense/sounds any less bad.
I am of course a bit hypochondriacal about getting cancer now. But only so much is hypochondria, I mean yesterday I ate 3 mars bars (yes... full sized!) and 5 pastries, and when a correlation has been shown between cancer and diet, I don't think my predictions can be so far astray. Maybe I'll get lucky and diabetes will get me before cancer, or even more ideally, I get run over by a car with a hot guy in it.
Okay so maybe lucky isn't the best choice of word.
I was thinking back to social psych, and am remembering so-and-so phenomena, whereby people, relatively normal mentally healthy people, when they feel bad, will compare themselves to worse off others to feel better about themselves. To others they believe are worse off, like, I dunno... fat people, nerds, pick a discriminatey group. So that effectively, they pull themselves up by putting others down.
Perhaps my problem is that for the most part, I refuse to do that? I like to believe that everyone is equally equal... except for me.
I don't know. Most of my issues these days relate to where my life is going, or really my life having a lack of going. Me lacking landmarks to define myself by and thus being adrift. Me being terrified of doing things differently even though I really need to, because there are still a few things I'm scared of losing.
Perhaps I should resolute to try something new weekly. Eventually the attempts should add up to something different, right?
But everyone I know is having these issues, that are so messed up from all angles. So perhaps I really am, just, normal? or not, remembering that I tend to exclude the really normal people from my life. It's not exclude exactly ... it's more like ... outgrown. Like I can't fit into your square anymore man and I'm sick of trying so dude like here's 50cents go call someone else to be your square square patsy.
Apparently I'm from the 70s now and I'm on drugs, who knew. Never thought you'd be a junkie because heroin is so passe.
So I'm basically lost still. And yeah all I do is stumble around, scrape by, and bang into stuff [sadly not always metaphorically; as evidenced by blue mark on arm]. But maybe I'll get somewhere by mistake, or at least that's what I'm really hoping. Which is probably a bit naive, I mean, to get somewhere unintentionally you have to be intending to move somewhere else, don't you. And I'm not doing that, I'm staying very still and hoping something will happen along, because I can't bare to risk movement.
I need to risk movement. Tomorrow I will do something risky... or movementy. I will look smart guy in the eye and ... well, let's not go too far. I will observe social conversational conventions, and you know, make some. Conversation that is. With someone. Or something. Okay, not something, I do that already.
I will be myself! Whatever the sheep that is. Perhaps that's the problem, I haven't figured it out yet, still a teeny teen drama queen.
Anyway, I will wash my hair, and pretend that it's a start. It's been re-dyed you know, now the streak is cherry bomb, and I leave red marks on my pillow that look like powdered blood.
And so at least the hair is fiery even if I am not. I will try to be a cherry bomb yet.
I suspect they were not good thoughts and so I suppose it's really not a bad thing.
My days have these strange low peaks now, I don't know what it's about. For the other 23 hours I feel okay ... but do the low peaks mean I'm not okay? I'm not sure what to think. Perhaps it's just this week of May. I like to hope that....
Is it wrong that I don't feel so bad after having to write 300 words from the perspective of someone just diagnosed with cancer? Well, it sounds bad phrased like that. But I've been learning about cancer, and I've heard the survivor stories, and... they inspire me, and give me courage I can't find in myself for myself. If that makes any sense/sounds any less bad.
I am of course a bit hypochondriacal about getting cancer now. But only so much is hypochondria, I mean yesterday I ate 3 mars bars (yes... full sized!) and 5 pastries, and when a correlation has been shown between cancer and diet, I don't think my predictions can be so far astray. Maybe I'll get lucky and diabetes will get me before cancer, or even more ideally, I get run over by a car with a hot guy in it.
Okay so maybe lucky isn't the best choice of word.
I was thinking back to social psych, and am remembering so-and-so phenomena, whereby people, relatively normal mentally healthy people, when they feel bad, will compare themselves to worse off others to feel better about themselves. To others they believe are worse off, like, I dunno... fat people, nerds, pick a discriminatey group. So that effectively, they pull themselves up by putting others down.
Perhaps my problem is that for the most part, I refuse to do that? I like to believe that everyone is equally equal... except for me.
I don't know. Most of my issues these days relate to where my life is going, or really my life having a lack of going. Me lacking landmarks to define myself by and thus being adrift. Me being terrified of doing things differently even though I really need to, because there are still a few things I'm scared of losing.
Perhaps I should resolute to try something new weekly. Eventually the attempts should add up to something different, right?
But everyone I know is having these issues, that are so messed up from all angles. So perhaps I really am, just, normal? or not, remembering that I tend to exclude the really normal people from my life. It's not exclude exactly ... it's more like ... outgrown. Like I can't fit into your square anymore man and I'm sick of trying so dude like here's 50cents go call someone else to be your square square patsy.
Apparently I'm from the 70s now and I'm on drugs, who knew. Never thought you'd be a junkie because heroin is so passe.
So I'm basically lost still. And yeah all I do is stumble around, scrape by, and bang into stuff [sadly not always metaphorically; as evidenced by blue mark on arm]. But maybe I'll get somewhere by mistake, or at least that's what I'm really hoping. Which is probably a bit naive, I mean, to get somewhere unintentionally you have to be intending to move somewhere else, don't you. And I'm not doing that, I'm staying very still and hoping something will happen along, because I can't bare to risk movement.
I need to risk movement. Tomorrow I will do something risky... or movementy. I will look smart guy in the eye and ... well, let's not go too far. I will observe social conversational conventions, and you know, make some. Conversation that is. With someone. Or something. Okay, not something, I do that already.
I will be myself! Whatever the sheep that is. Perhaps that's the problem, I haven't figured it out yet, still a teeny teen drama queen.
Anyway, I will wash my hair, and pretend that it's a start. It's been re-dyed you know, now the streak is cherry bomb, and I leave red marks on my pillow that look like powdered blood.
And so at least the hair is fiery even if I am not. I will try to be a cherry bomb yet.
