My days are usually divided into two categories: the exceedingly happy ones (to the point where I experience euphoria, or something resembling a sort of high) and the exceedingly bad ones (plagued by discomfort, shame, and regret). I first began to recognize this with a life formula that really defined my previous mindset: as long as I woke up in the morning with extremely low expectations for the day, my behavior would be tamed and relatively stable.
However, that prevented me from ever being excited or happy about any kind of future event. Because with too high expectations, I reasoned with myself, there could only follow disappointment.
Of course, this kind of mentality comes with its problems. Life is all about balancing. Throwing a fit every time you're faced with disappointment? Not healthy. Letting uncontrolled anger rage on at others without thinking of the consequences? Not healthy. Repressing our feelings and hiding behind a smile all the time? Even that's not healthy. Yet I had (and still have) such a hard time coming to an in-between state, in which I just become accepting.
Every break, whether it's a three-month or two-week vacation, I propose to myself a plan to change myself. To be more friendly, open, less reserved, more active. But the more I focus on these extroverted qualities (that I totally deem myself fully capable of), the less I focus on my introverted nature, which has always had the dominant hand in my behavior. It hasn't fixed any of the imbalances I've recognized at the beginning, because in itself, it is an imbalance.
As this school year progresses, I realize that I'm drifting further and further away from the stability I fight so hard to obtain. It's never within reach. I'm either too happy or too depressed to even speak to anyone both ways. And it's hard, coming to the conclusion that I can't be independent in resolving these issues.
But life isn't about pushing people away from your problems. Hell, no one knows with certainty what life is about, but I know it can't be centered around destroying relationships out of fear of ourselves.
It's about (or at least involves) trusting others enough to share with them your feelings. It's about honesty and genuineness and forming bonds, facing adversity and making friends. Making enemies. Dealing with that. Dealing with everyday living.
I don't know. At this point, I'm just rambling off. There is no coherent argument I'm trying to make. I'm just purging all these pent-up feelings I've been struggling to deal with for a while now. Maybe I just need someone to talk to. Maybe I don't know how to do it, but need some way to release my inner anguish, so turn to the Internet as some sort of therapy.
Is that a sad thing to have to admit? Depending on the Internet for comfort?
Should I capitalize the "with" in the title of the post? Does it even matter?
Where am I going with this?
I just don't know anymore.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Valentine's Day...Everyday?
Listen to the song "Nine Million Bicycles" by Katie Melua, and if anyone can sing it to me with a flute or whatever instrument solo occurs in the middle bit, I will love them forever! Katie Melua's voice has a classic quality to it that I like, but it's not necessary to make this song sound amazing. Just listening to the lyrics makes me want to swoon.
So this Thursday was Valentine's Day, undoubtedly the best commercialized holiday for romantically-involved high school couples everywhere. It gives us an opportunity to buy the biggest teddy bear for our girlfriends, or indulge in a long speech regarding the actual history behind the signing of love letters with "Your Valentine." I happen to fall into neither group; honestly, I didn't even realize how much the day mattered until becoming acutely aware that all this gift-giving totally brought attention to all the single people out there (a category I do happen to fall under). I don't remember there being so much display of affection last year, but that's partly because I wasn't as socially attentive. Or entirely observant, since spending most of your time in a library surrounded by Jane Austen paperbacks tends to do that to you.
It's not that I didn't find the whole day cute; it totally was. I can agree with you on that. Even though I may claim to be logically-minded and more involved in close platonic relationships, I am a total romantic at heart. Titanic, marriage proposals, and giant teddy bears make me melt. But I just never identified myself as one of those girls who's comfortable with having a boyfriend she enjoys kissing or hand-holding or doing PDA with.
I'm the kind of person who reads weird science books and enjoys explaining them to people who ask me what they're about. Then, like any comfortable person would in a normal conversation, I'd ask them what they were doing, and we'd talk about that for a while.
Or sometimes we'd joke around. In those sort of interactions, laughing is pretty much a requirement. How could you not when someone's eraser bounces off the floor and hits them in the face? (I mean, as long as the worst it leaves behind is a tragic bruise. Laughing has its limits!) Or an unexpected turn towards storytelling reminds you of your own embarrassing moments from waaay back?
To me, those small, everyday exchanges are our valentines to each other. No giant teddy bears, engagement rings, or boxes of chocolate necessary (though they certainly are optional. I wouldn't mind that last one.). Valentine's Day as a romantic tradition is fun and can be a reminder of all the good, material things we can give each other out of love, but I think the rest of the days in between can be just as incredibly breath-taking and sob-inducing and hilarious!
So this Thursday was Valentine's Day, undoubtedly the best commercialized holiday for romantically-involved high school couples everywhere. It gives us an opportunity to buy the biggest teddy bear for our girlfriends, or indulge in a long speech regarding the actual history behind the signing of love letters with "Your Valentine." I happen to fall into neither group; honestly, I didn't even realize how much the day mattered until becoming acutely aware that all this gift-giving totally brought attention to all the single people out there (a category I do happen to fall under). I don't remember there being so much display of affection last year, but that's partly because I wasn't as socially attentive. Or entirely observant, since spending most of your time in a library surrounded by Jane Austen paperbacks tends to do that to you.
It's not that I didn't find the whole day cute; it totally was. I can agree with you on that. Even though I may claim to be logically-minded and more involved in close platonic relationships, I am a total romantic at heart. Titanic, marriage proposals, and giant teddy bears make me melt. But I just never identified myself as one of those girls who's comfortable with having a boyfriend she enjoys kissing or hand-holding or doing PDA with.
I'm the kind of person who reads weird science books and enjoys explaining them to people who ask me what they're about. Then, like any comfortable person would in a normal conversation, I'd ask them what they were doing, and we'd talk about that for a while.
Or sometimes we'd joke around. In those sort of interactions, laughing is pretty much a requirement. How could you not when someone's eraser bounces off the floor and hits them in the face? (I mean, as long as the worst it leaves behind is a tragic bruise. Laughing has its limits!) Or an unexpected turn towards storytelling reminds you of your own embarrassing moments from waaay back?
To me, those small, everyday exchanges are our valentines to each other. No giant teddy bears, engagement rings, or boxes of chocolate necessary (though they certainly are optional. I wouldn't mind that last one.). Valentine's Day as a romantic tradition is fun and can be a reminder of all the good, material things we can give each other out of love, but I think the rest of the days in between can be just as incredibly breath-taking and sob-inducing and hilarious!
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Procrastination!
Why, oh why do I do it? If only it's as simple as commanding my brain to stop wandering away from the task at hand! And speaking of hands, why do my fingers allow encouragement from aforementioned brain to sabotage my weekend plans? I thought I already made it clear that I'll be having midnight engagements with my textbooks on a regular basis.
And I don't believe I'll let you get away from a scolding, my intimidated pair of feet. Stop hiding in my socks to stay warm! It's tempting me to crawl into bed every second of the day. Also, and more importantly, it's not helping anyone whenever you walk to the kitchen for what you originally intended to be a short snack. After so many times, have you not realized that there is more in the refrigerator than a glass of milk and some cheese sticks?
This frustrates me. I frustrate myself. It's a quite frustrating situation altogether. I've always been the kind of person who's been able to get away with doing things at the last minute, but with more expectations (internal, external, perceived, imaginary, etc. - there are all kinds of those) weighing down on my shoulders, I feel as if pursuing my old habits is like stubbornly continuing down a path that leads to nowhere, in the hopes that I’ll somehow find my way to Narnia or Middle Earth. It’s setting me up for failure. And disappointment. And a lot more anxiety then I would like.
So what would I like to change about this dire situation? First off, prioritize better. Do what’s at the top of my list first, then work my way down. To hell with comfort – it’s gotten to the point where I just keep avoiding the task and become lazy and anxious and rabbit-hearted. Just get it over with, and enjoy the feeling of comfort that will always follow afterwards.
Also, anxiety has always been a factor involved. Even when I was younger, I could always count on it to keep my work in check. It always forced me to get stuff done, especially if at the last minute, and get it turned in on time. That’s the good kind of anxiety. That’s the kind I can (sometimes) depend on. Now? I’ve used it against myself, as a way to push back everything I should do at the top of my list. Let’s end that, starting today. Because it’s the beginning of a new week and I want to start off with the first symbolic step forward.
There’s so much more I’d like to mention, but that requires putting a lot more thought into the time I should be spending on the work accumulating on my desk. Maybe I’ll continue this discussion on a second post, after I’ve gotten a better hold on my academic priorities.
Shall I end this post, then, by starting off my new week with bare feet, old socks discarded out the window? :)
And I don't believe I'll let you get away from a scolding, my intimidated pair of feet. Stop hiding in my socks to stay warm! It's tempting me to crawl into bed every second of the day. Also, and more importantly, it's not helping anyone whenever you walk to the kitchen for what you originally intended to be a short snack. After so many times, have you not realized that there is more in the refrigerator than a glass of milk and some cheese sticks?
This frustrates me. I frustrate myself. It's a quite frustrating situation altogether. I've always been the kind of person who's been able to get away with doing things at the last minute, but with more expectations (internal, external, perceived, imaginary, etc. - there are all kinds of those) weighing down on my shoulders, I feel as if pursuing my old habits is like stubbornly continuing down a path that leads to nowhere, in the hopes that I’ll somehow find my way to Narnia or Middle Earth. It’s setting me up for failure. And disappointment. And a lot more anxiety then I would like.
So what would I like to change about this dire situation? First off, prioritize better. Do what’s at the top of my list first, then work my way down. To hell with comfort – it’s gotten to the point where I just keep avoiding the task and become lazy and anxious and rabbit-hearted. Just get it over with, and enjoy the feeling of comfort that will always follow afterwards.
Also, anxiety has always been a factor involved. Even when I was younger, I could always count on it to keep my work in check. It always forced me to get stuff done, especially if at the last minute, and get it turned in on time. That’s the good kind of anxiety. That’s the kind I can (sometimes) depend on. Now? I’ve used it against myself, as a way to push back everything I should do at the top of my list. Let’s end that, starting today. Because it’s the beginning of a new week and I want to start off with the first symbolic step forward.
There’s so much more I’d like to mention, but that requires putting a lot more thought into the time I should be spending on the work accumulating on my desk. Maybe I’ll continue this discussion on a second post, after I’ve gotten a better hold on my academic priorities.
Shall I end this post, then, by starting off my new week with bare feet, old socks discarded out the window? :)
Saturday, February 9, 2013
My Thoughts on Music
This is going to be my first real post of substance, since I like to think of the other one as more of a prologue to My Instantly New and Improved Life (which, now that I think of it, I'm glad I didn't title this blog. And speaking of titles, that's exactly what I've been meaning to talk about today.)
The very short and random history behind why I chose to permanently stick with, after much debate and internally confliction, "The Case Study of The Rabbit-Hearted" includes the following:
1. I thought it was awesome.
2. I procrastinated, and it was the best I could come up with at the moment, and I wouldn't change it for anything - even if you offered me an actually rabbit with irresistible eyes and a cute tail. Must ignore the urge to freak out over that adorable mental image!
3. It's a fitting allusion to a Florence + the Machine song that I love dearly.
4. It makes my current endeavor sound like a mixture between a professional research project, a bizarre fairy tale, and something that's entirely significant to me.
5. And because (the most important factor involved), I flat-out like it.
So there it is! I didn't want to bore you with the specific details in between. Hopefully, I'll get into those plans later on.
If you don't already know the song I'm referring to, "Rabbit Heart" by Florence + the Machine, it has to be one of my favorite musical compositions to ever grace my ears during my particularly humble existence. Feeling sad? Listen to Flo. Feeling lonely? Listen to Flo. Feeling ecstatic and happy and like you want to jump straight out of your (closed) window due to intense joy and mania? Take necessary iPod with so you can dance down the street like a crazy person to Florence. (Which I don't recommend unless you know what you're doing. But even then! Please don't get arrested!)
I love Florence + the Machine. I think she's a goddess who came down from the sky with her equally amazing band when the clouds split open to play music and kick ass while doing so. It was my love for the feelings that their first album, Lungs, elicited within me that helped me through the rough parts of the symbolic road of life. Similarly, Ceremonials gained a meaningful place in the course of my life. Whenever I sit down, close my eyes, and actually listen to the album in all its glory - beginning to end with no skipping in between - I'm transported back to that one memory place that has been waiting for me the entire, exhausting week. And my muscles flex and my ears open up and I begin the process of relaxation. It actually has therapeutic effects on the body!
And it's not just that. I can also relate to it, which is why we even listen to music in the first place. Whether it's a connection to a certain rhythm, a melody, the lyrics, or the pure emotions released by the musician, music is one of those things that float in the air, waiting to imprison our souls. Which is a very dramatic statement to make but, come on, you have to admit it's true! And it's happened to you, as well! Even with the Top 40 songs that have an annoying habit of getting stuck in your head.
Like Plato said in a quote I really like, "Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything." Now I have no idea if those were his actually words, since I've never been given the privilege to meet him, but whether the Internet is correct or not, it's still a quote I like to carry around with me whenever I feel like I need a reminder of the beauty in life.
As an amateur piano player who also writes her own compositions, I have to say that regardless of whether I decide to reveal my work to others or not, I get the feeling that I'm ultimately sharing it with myself. Which, personally, I think is the best feeling of all.
The very short and random history behind why I chose to permanently stick with, after much debate and internally confliction, "The Case Study of The Rabbit-Hearted" includes the following:
1. I thought it was awesome.
2. I procrastinated, and it was the best I could come up with at the moment, and I wouldn't change it for anything - even if you offered me an actually rabbit with irresistible eyes and a cute tail. Must ignore the urge to freak out over that adorable mental image!
3. It's a fitting allusion to a Florence + the Machine song that I love dearly.
4. It makes my current endeavor sound like a mixture between a professional research project, a bizarre fairy tale, and something that's entirely significant to me.
5. And because (the most important factor involved), I flat-out like it.
So there it is! I didn't want to bore you with the specific details in between. Hopefully, I'll get into those plans later on.
If you don't already know the song I'm referring to, "Rabbit Heart" by Florence + the Machine, it has to be one of my favorite musical compositions to ever grace my ears during my particularly humble existence. Feeling sad? Listen to Flo. Feeling lonely? Listen to Flo. Feeling ecstatic and happy and like you want to jump straight out of your (closed) window due to intense joy and mania? Take necessary iPod with so you can dance down the street like a crazy person to Florence. (Which I don't recommend unless you know what you're doing. But even then! Please don't get arrested!)
I love Florence + the Machine. I think she's a goddess who came down from the sky with her equally amazing band when the clouds split open to play music and kick ass while doing so. It was my love for the feelings that their first album, Lungs, elicited within me that helped me through the rough parts of the symbolic road of life. Similarly, Ceremonials gained a meaningful place in the course of my life. Whenever I sit down, close my eyes, and actually listen to the album in all its glory - beginning to end with no skipping in between - I'm transported back to that one memory place that has been waiting for me the entire, exhausting week. And my muscles flex and my ears open up and I begin the process of relaxation. It actually has therapeutic effects on the body!
And it's not just that. I can also relate to it, which is why we even listen to music in the first place. Whether it's a connection to a certain rhythm, a melody, the lyrics, or the pure emotions released by the musician, music is one of those things that float in the air, waiting to imprison our souls. Which is a very dramatic statement to make but, come on, you have to admit it's true! And it's happened to you, as well! Even with the Top 40 songs that have an annoying habit of getting stuck in your head.
Like Plato said in a quote I really like, "Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything." Now I have no idea if those were his actually words, since I've never been given the privilege to meet him, but whether the Internet is correct or not, it's still a quote I like to carry around with me whenever I feel like I need a reminder of the beauty in life.
As an amateur piano player who also writes her own compositions, I have to say that regardless of whether I decide to reveal my work to others or not, I get the feeling that I'm ultimately sharing it with myself. Which, personally, I think is the best feeling of all.
Friday, February 8, 2013
The consequence of staying in was...
...deciding to begin a blog.
Other good ideas I had simultaneously: a) staying in from school and b) indulging in my second bowl of Lucky Charms.
Aside from my addiction to sugary, artificially-flavored cereals that may contribute to future health problems, I've identified a number of things about my character (and behavior) that I need to change and, surprisingly, want to. I need to reinvent myself and somehow, I got the idea that a blog would help me do that.
Isn't it a brilliant idea? I totally think it is.
Other good ideas I had simultaneously: a) staying in from school and b) indulging in my second bowl of Lucky Charms.
Aside from my addiction to sugary, artificially-flavored cereals that may contribute to future health problems, I've identified a number of things about my character (and behavior) that I need to change and, surprisingly, want to. I need to reinvent myself and somehow, I got the idea that a blog would help me do that.
Isn't it a brilliant idea? I totally think it is.
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