Through the Window of My Eyes
I wish I were .. . . . . better at organizing my thoughts… !
Simon and Garfunkel are the best really loud.
My roommates may not agree. Instead, they might suggest a volume change or a Neil Young song. And I am ok with that.
Wait, I’m spacing out to this beautiful stanza about rain.So entranced. right NOW.\
Sometimes I feel like everyone’s pretending to be something, to be an idea of happiness or professionalism or productivity– what someone in their position should do rather than their gut feeling, or rather than just being themselves. But then, I realize that I do that a lot too. Or at least, I sound a lot cheesier than I think of myself (at the time, and in general). I have episodes of these strange fits of thought.
And isn’t it strange when you catch yourself with a veiled lie you’re telling yourself? What a strange metaphorical layer of self-control and reprimand it is. Self-co-rection.This makes me sound like a neurotic freak, but this is not the case (Yet who knows. This could be one of these veiled lies I was talking about. Oh, I could go back and forth– see what I mean?). Maybe I’m the only one who does this, and you have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe I’m the only one that says “Grace, scarfing down this entire burger at once will feel great” and somehow isn’t surprised when the discomfort of the experience settles almost immediately– and there are many more that are infinitely worse, and sadder; trust me. Like when words come out of my mouth, and then I figure out what it means. This is not normal. This is not how language works. I’m like a backwards fax machine, as if a fax machine by itself wasn’t painful enough to interact with.
I’m not bitching about the holidays, but I totally notice that couples tend to swarm in throngs during cold and blustery days. It’s practical; after all, it’s freezing– what’s a better portable heater than a walking talking body? Fantastic. But there’s always this pause in my brain in glancing at couples– dunno, maybe another neurotic trait I have– where you capture their chemistry in a couple of seconds. Or if you can’t really, you wonder about it. It’s usually evident through their comfort levels, the way they’re holding each other (or how they aren’t), how they talk to each other, and… well, them. What they’re wearing individually, how they might identify as a member of society… ahahaha, I’m not saying I’m right, but isn’t it fun to think you have the story straight? And if you don’t, how will you ever find out anyway so we might as well follow the story we’ve inadvertantly created? The point is, some/ a lot of the times, I feel like people are totally faking it, and they’re either overdoing it or they look miserable together.
This is a lie. There are couples that look happy together, I just never see fit to mention it.
The whole point was really about couples that try really hard to be cute. Not couples that are cute; which do exist– I’m not couples-bashing–. Anyway, over-worked-cute couples make me beyond uncomfortable.It’s like everything in your room (and this is probably possible, I promise you) turned into a Hello Kitty product. And Hello Kitty has an endless load of products. Barfacious.
I have no idea where that topic came from, but it now makes me twinge. The bigger topic was: people striving to embody an intangible idea or dream built on fiction and ideals. Is this pessimistic of me to say? I’m not saying that they shouldn’t strive for the ideals; just that they need to do so intelligently.Instead of that attitude “Well, it’s about time I guess” they should ask something like “Why is this expected of me?”
because
Ignorance IS bliss. But bliss is not Life.
Gracious
lissening to gr8 moosik
gotta go,
Graceee
December 8th, 2009 at 2:08 am
This brought up the idea of the “[US] American Dream” and its emphasis on individual achievements–as in, an expectation for people to [be able to] fulfill roles which are considered normal. Though I find this results in creating greater conflict than resolution; the pressure of self-omittance (yes, I know this is not a word but it totally should be) in order to conform to the “standard” of happy…or even, one could say, appearing as though they’re trying. Kitsch baby, kitsch.
How sad it is for people to hold the norms of society in such high regard they end up putting their happiness on the back-burner to obtain acceptance–despite it lacking truth.
And yet we do…most, if not all, of us do or have at one point or another. Oh systems, why you gotta hold such power?