Archive for October, 2002
October 31, 2002 at 10:06 am · Filed under Rigamarole
Interesting, really, how people’s insecurities cause them to become their own worst criticizers. The criticism starts as a small “what if…” and grows until the insecurity becomes a reality.
Most of the time, I find this results from thinking that outside people care (negatively and positively) about what you do more than they actually do. Though it’s hard for me to grasp this sometimes, deep down I know that most people really don’t give a shit what you do or what you don’t do or how you do what you do. Why should it matter to them, anyways?
Take myself as an example: I have long thought that people cared about the quality of my posts on my site. I thought that if I either wrote from my heart or gave thought to what I wanted before I wrote it, I would gain the respect of my visitors – as those who give thought to their journals gain my own respect.
However, after almost a month of not writing here I came to this conclusion: regardless of what I write (or don’t write), the same people will continue reading and responding to my posts. Regardless of whether or not I choose to speak clearly, convolutedly, or not speak at all the same people will continue coming to my site.
This is because these are the people that already know me, or want to know more about me. Not those people who wantonly browse through sites looking for intelligent conversation. –I know, because though I respect those who write really well, I don’t have the time to read their sites: I’m too busy reading those sites of the people I want to know more about.
So, after that long analogy, what is the lesson that’s learned? PEOPLE DON’T CARE AS MUCH AS YOU MAY THINK THEY DO.
October 30, 2002 at 12:19 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
Every once in a while I need to meditate and tell myself that I theoretically have full control of everything I want to choose to matter to me. Every once in a while I have to remind myself that to enjoy living I must try my hardest to keep from being swayed by things outside of my control.
I am allowed to pick what matters to me.
And I should be the only one allowed to do so.
October 25, 2002 at 12:35 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
I can’t say that I’m happy all the time these days… I don’t think that would be very realistic. What I can tell you, though, is I’ve felt a 100% improvement since I began taking my medication regularly again. It’s not like it makes me any smarter or it gives me super powers or anything (though it would be cool if it did), but I feel more like the way I like myself to be more than before. I’m not as scared and I feel less bogged down, even though I’m taking on even more responsibilities than before.
I have the feeling in my mind that I want to express myself. I’ve been trying a variety of things… drawing, sewing — I even learned how to knit yesterday! For some reason, though, I keep coming back to writing.
A few days ago, I went through all my old journal entries from two years ago. Though they’re less polished, less thought out than some of my more recent entries… they have something that my newer entries are lacking. Perhaps it’s the lack of obligation… perhaps it was the fact that friends didn’t used to read. Maybe just grew up. I can’t tell.
What I do know is that my habit for writing isn’t going to give up that easily. My fingers still twitch, eager to spill my thoughts — though, these days I don’t have much to complain about (which has always been a big topic in the past, in case you didn’t know)… But I’m sure I’ll eventually find another writing niche that I enjoy.
Until then, you’ll just have to deal with reading about my daily goings-ons.
October 18, 2002 at 4:48 pm · Filed under Rigamarole
It’s been so long since I’ve attempted to write anything. It’s been so long since I’ve even thought about spilling my mind to my blog the way that I used to. It is so hard for me for some reason these days… so difficult to think about anything to write that others or even I might remotely care about.
Strange, isn’t it?
I feel almost as if I’ve unfairly used my journal. As if it’s some living being that I spilled my guts to and then just tossed away — maybe because my eyes are not the only ones that see this.
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I feel like I’ve changed. I apologize for the unexpected hiatus.
