Cheap Hawaiian Cigarettes
Jun. 16th, 2002 10:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sjesterThese times aren't black. But they are varying shades of gray.
But what had made them so black in the first place?
I'm still trying to figure this out, but I'm making progress.
What happened? I fell apart as things were falling apart around me. I can't help but think that the destruction didn't have to be so complete. Bad things happened, but nothing that I wouldn't normally be able to deal with. Perhaps my outlook had been shifted. The falling apart came after spring break, which in turn was after the Zuckerman article debacle, which really fucked with me. So I'd already been thinking that maybe I was in the wrong place when the shit really hit the fan. And I'd lost my self-control. And I think I'd forgotten some pretty fundamental things that I had lived by before. First I forgot the importance of being the "author of your own life." Then I forgot how to write. I've remembered the former, at least. I'm not sure exactly when I forgot them, but it was sometime after I got to Reed. Did I forget as a result of having changed so much? And am I comfortable with all the ways I've changed? Well, no, not if it's led me to become extremely unhappy. It seems like a lot of the change has involved stripping things away, and that's the part I don't like. Time to fill the void back up. Perhaps with some of the same things that were there before, or improved versions, but this time I'll know why, other than that they were things taught to me that sounded good.
I like that things seem to come into my life at the right time. Because right now, I'm getting exactly what I needed.
Remember, "not everyone here is that fucked up and cold."
Addendum: I think that another part of the problem is that I began wanting to be like other people. This never works. It's a little surprising, considering my need to be independent and unconforming. I like to go my own way. I've always thought it more important to be a role model than to have one. Being this way doesn't make things easy, but really, I wouldn't have it any other way. The best things in life aren't exactly free, but they can't be bought with tangible currency. You pay in blood, sweat, and tears, and sometimes sanity.
I'm not the same person I used to be, but am I the person I want to be?
But what had made them so black in the first place?
I'm still trying to figure this out, but I'm making progress.
What happened? I fell apart as things were falling apart around me. I can't help but think that the destruction didn't have to be so complete. Bad things happened, but nothing that I wouldn't normally be able to deal with. Perhaps my outlook had been shifted. The falling apart came after spring break, which in turn was after the Zuckerman article debacle, which really fucked with me. So I'd already been thinking that maybe I was in the wrong place when the shit really hit the fan. And I'd lost my self-control. And I think I'd forgotten some pretty fundamental things that I had lived by before. First I forgot the importance of being the "author of your own life." Then I forgot how to write. I've remembered the former, at least. I'm not sure exactly when I forgot them, but it was sometime after I got to Reed. Did I forget as a result of having changed so much? And am I comfortable with all the ways I've changed? Well, no, not if it's led me to become extremely unhappy. It seems like a lot of the change has involved stripping things away, and that's the part I don't like. Time to fill the void back up. Perhaps with some of the same things that were there before, or improved versions, but this time I'll know why, other than that they were things taught to me that sounded good.
I like that things seem to come into my life at the right time. Because right now, I'm getting exactly what I needed.
Remember, "not everyone here is that fucked up and cold."
Addendum: I think that another part of the problem is that I began wanting to be like other people. This never works. It's a little surprising, considering my need to be independent and unconforming. I like to go my own way. I've always thought it more important to be a role model than to have one. Being this way doesn't make things easy, but really, I wouldn't have it any other way. The best things in life aren't exactly free, but they can't be bought with tangible currency. You pay in blood, sweat, and tears, and sometimes sanity.
I'm not the same person I used to be, but am I the person I want to be?
