I’m feeling upset because someone told me they didn’t think I sounded like a person who knew what she was talking about ever. It looked obvious to him and I misunderstood how this person thought of me. I don’t know if it’s the anti-depressants I haven’t taken in a week (I don’t think so) but I’m very very sad about this. My whole life I’ve identified to and cared very much about the value I believe that I have which is of an advanced common sense. Granted this is something that is circumstantial. But I don’t think I’m as dumb as this person seems to believe I am. This person is the type of person to be very snotty with knowledge – in the sense that, and this is something I’ve noticed in every smart person I met – being smug about being smart limits your self-doubt, which makes your accuracy, though generally high, imperfect.
I doubt myself a billion times in any given day. Not a single day passes when I don’t doubt my opinions, my values, my productivity, the accuracy of my beliefs, my appeal to myself and to others, my position in my life, and so on.
Why does he have to go and shit on me like that? If at least he felt bad about it. I appreciate when people are dicks because they want to provide you with honesty that would push you in a better direction for yourself. This is something that sometimes allows me to create and maintain bonds with extremely rude or obnoxious people. (Narcissists)
If I were as “obviously” oblivious as this person is honestly and effortlessly convinced I am, it would hurt me more than it should. I will repeat that both stupidity and intelligence depend on the levels of stupidity/intelligence that they would be compared to. (among… other things?) but I mean to put emphasis on something I’ve experienced my whole life: a sense of disgust towards stupidity. Or at least a natural reaction of disgust. In the last few years I’ve been able to understand that the upbringing of a person should not diminish their value, and that their logic and values should not be based on what can be seen or noticed, but on all the circumstances that compose their entire life, which can not be seen or noticed. It can be imagined. Especially if you get to know this person intimately and they share stories about their life with you enough that you get some sort of general picture. But it’s impossible to know exactly why every part of them behaves the way it does, why each of their thoughts have formed, or even when they were formed – because god knows some things we think we know, we just think we know because it’s where we left off on the topic, long ago. A recent and time-accurate conversation with one or many people would re-direct our opinions, in these circumstances.
I used to write using too many fancy words and expressions. Allot of us might have gone through this kind of a phase, when we felt a need to prove ourselves. I grew out of it when I realized that you didn’t necessarily need to sound like you know what you’re talking about to convince people. I realized that the people I wanted to convince of anything, ever, would be the type of people who simply want to read and understand a valid point, and that I should convey this point modestly without losing the precision I needed to get said point across.
Anyway. This post being half-emotionally driven, half-conversational, I’m going to end it on a personal note.
I’ve always hated stupidity but I try not to more and more as the days and years go by. I don’t want to be hated or made fun of or looked down upon for not knowing as much about something or other as the person I’m talking to. The idea terrifies me and I don’t want to live the rest of my life earning their respect. I aim to avoid the chin-up thing whenever I can train myself to settle down and think of others in an accepting and respectful way.
This person who made me feel sad also told me that I judged people wrongly. That though a person may seem stupid or like there’s something wrong with the aspirations they have for their life (or lack there of), that proper thinking or proper motivation could usually be dug up from within them if you try. He told me that people didn’t always know their potential but that everyone deserved a chance, and that it was by being convinced they could not do better or do what they want or be what they want that actually held them back. This is a great truth I’ve experienced and witnessed. That’s what I chose to end this post on.
(I’ll go watch something. I felt so sad just now that my protective numbness kicked in. The me who still isn’t finished crying about the situation has been disconnected from the internet connection that is my main experiencing. The “program” is still running in the background but the system that is mainly me right now is not acknowledging it. I will leave it that way and I look forward to sleeping. Cheers to tomorrow-ness, Goodnight guys.)
– Brush teeth more often
– Read at least somewhat
– accomplish goals almost daily
– Finish my website
– finish and photograph a few paintings for sale
– get that down payment on our dog
– get our dog
– move out
– take a trip home as soon as possible
– sell a painting or two to help make all this happen
– be a wonderful dog owner
– learn the ukulele
– make money for smokes every now and then
– keep my home as clean as I can as often as I can push myself to
– keep spare time for decorating the place whenever I feel pointless
– make more room for family
– buy a better computer
– socialize as much as possible with as many different kinds of people as possible
– keep people who find intellectual or philosophical or conversational relief in you closer and keep them there
– find pride in being a kind and patient lover
Drink up baby, stay up all night
With the things you could do
You won’t but you might
The potential you’ll be
That you’ll never see
The promises you’ll only make
Drink up with me now
And forget all about
The pressure of days
Do what I say
And I’ll make you okay
And drive them away
The images stuck in your head
People you’ve been before
That you don’t want around anymore
That push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still
Drink up baby, look at the stars
I’ll kiss you again between the bars
Where I’m seeing you there
With your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught
Drink up one more time
And I’ll make you mine
Keep you apart,
Deep in my heart
Separate from the rest,
Where I like you the best
And keep the things you forgot
The people you’ve been before
That you don’t want around anymore
That push and shove and won’t bend to your will
I’ll keep them still
– Elliot Smith (Between the bars)
I have a friend, I won’t name him. We’ve been friends on and off, for years. When I see him, how smart he is, how kind he is, how successful e is at realizing his creative potential, the strength and fairness and accuracy of his thoughts and a sea of other qualities merge with my inability to look away from his difficulties socializing regularly or digging himself a solid place in the world at all, anything respectable at all, when I look at all of these things in my friend, I see so much of myself. I see allot of myself in everyone and anyone, it’s kind of an issue. Regardless, what I see of myself in him helps guide me in my own life. It helps me draw the line between what I feel I need to work on and what I can indeed work on, the line between who I’ve always wanted to be and who I’ve already managed to become. Keeping an close eye on his life, regardless of any specific turns or stops, keeps me at a safe distance with mine. Do any of you know one or several people who have such good and bad similarities with you that it allows you to apply a general perspective to your own life & circumstance?
Some days I think of him and feel we are both screwed. But then I look at the notes of kindness he wrote in a couple of my things, the legitimacy in them regarding hope. And how in between him being there to tell me what’s what and what’s good in times of need, he has needed me to get him to put tools for pain or suicide away.
I guess I could feel bad for sounding like a teenager, or even slightly bad for talking this way about a male friend while I have a boyfriend. A male friend who was an ex of mine, even. But that was several years ago, several indescribably log years ago, and I know where I stand ground with whom I would weather refer to as my soul-brother.
My point is that though I feel heavy under the burden of my own consciousness, under the boredom of my avoidance or the shame in my lack of cumulative independence, I can’t give up because giving up is the real abandon. I may not be certain of the choices I’ve made are the best but I’m sleeping in and waking up in an Appartment, a city, a province and even in a family and group of friends and over all life that is still very much under my control. And how lucky am I today to have the ability to control my life. And more so, to have understood the unshakable reality that I am truly in control. To understand the difference between fiction and reality. I used to barely be able to handle myself. Now, my emotional life goes back and fourth between shame strength comfort discomfort longing and acceptance and disappointment and pride and it’s all good and great but at the end of the day I keep asking myself: what do I have to show for? Where is how I can explain I’m earning my own living, not extorting it from people who don’t even have a say in the fact that their tax money is invested in me? How can I help artists believe they can be artists professionally if I myself can barely break free through the cocoon of not actually making any money but still living off free things free money and free services? I would go on to say that I feel limited but I have more than most traveller have and they are my heroes. I aim to make the best out of what I have but are my values in the right place? I feel at fault for needing to feel so safe beyond taking more risks, because the risks I have taken have lead me to great failures. I’ve always been over protective.
I know what I want for myself at Te least. I want friends and a dog and a career in art. By career in art I mean I need to fix a way to provide and to be provided; goods for goods, a part of a no-hypocrisy system. This would require me to build mental strength and endurance, to continue to learn to enjoy the fruit of my efforts but to feed it to catch up with y dreams ft myself. Reality is real and I forget that sometimes, tucked under a blanket one of the many me’s drop on the weakest and most terrified part of my core. You can’t always have a whole team of sub-selves taking care of all things. Sometimes you gotta promote some of them, as little of them as possible, one being perfection. The closer you are to being the team Te closer you’ll be to being in control of your life. And sometimes, even deciding how much of your life you want to control as how much of your life you want to set aside to happen through you at its own pace, Que Sera Sera like the wind of a new place flowing refreshingly in your hair or the comfort of suddenly deciding to ride a bus or the deep relief of smoking something when you feel you deserved it.
I wanna feel like I deserve it. Thus I mustn’t wish for it, I must create this reason. Then submerge myself in its realities. This would be a nice place in this text to mention I love the feel of the word “project”. I like it because I compare it to the feel of the word “plans” and it over rides it. I aim to be a project manager in y weird ways, not a desolate planner of potentials never opened.
These are some close ups of a painting I’m trying to finish up.
Everything was going fine until I took a vacation from everything for a few days. I don’t want to stick only to negative writing so I thought I’d start off with these results up there. I successfully kicked myself in the butt to try and finish as much of the many paintings I had (have) that aren’t finished yet. Stopped when I had nothing left to bring. Sometimes you have to destroy in order to build yes but you can’t get carried away destroying everything, either. I hope my edits will be worth it in the end.
Technically speaking, though I don’t have a single painting up for sale anywhere that anyone can see, I do have over a thousand dollars in potential value of paintings here. Over two thousand, even, if I were to seriously kick myself in the ass. I’ve been meaning to have paintings finished and a website to speak for since I’d started Twitch a long several months ago.
But I haven’t gotten around to it yet.
That should be my name. Yet. Yet should be my name.
Some day I’ll have more behind me to build on.
skipping out on meds because they are located in black garbage bags of mystery because bed bugs > because church shelter > because homeless > because FUCK YOU THAT’S WHY