Monday Morning says to me,
That I'm not quite where I'm supposed to be.
Last night I had some particularly memorable dreams as I tend to do. Whats worth mentioning is not really in the details but rather the emotions which filled me shortly after waking. It's actually quite interesting because that's usually how the feelings come with dreams; they come after actually waking. While it's happening its totally lucid and sublime.
Anyways, the feelings were kind of a longing for something else. Not necessarily a depressive feeling about my current situation but just a knowing that something isn't quite right. There feels like there is potential that can only be fulfilled elsewhere. The people I find myself able to relate to continues to dwindle. While there's a good chance this is also partially a part of growing up, something tells me that it's not the whole story. It feels like there is a lack of community. At least the type of community I can relate to.
There have been a number of groups I've been associated with during my time here at my present location. They come and they go. There just seems like there's not enough people here to continue something to grow. The most recent example of this was this past weekend at a friends party. It's not really a party but rather a gathering of friends. It's something with much more intent than deciding to go and picking up a six pack on the way over. Well no one showed up really. There was just a few of us, a lot which was family.
So that just added to the theme of today's thought. Whatever I'm looking for must not be here. There are greener pastures ahead and it may be time to look elsewhere.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Feeling Something
Throughout my life I have had at least 20 different journals of some kind. Every once in a while I would get the spurt to write and then I'd go and get a journal. I'd get it and say "this is it. this will be my journal". Then time would pass, I'd put a few entries in and eventually forget about it. Later when I decided to write again I'd come back, read my entries, and feel embarrassed somehow. So then I'd have to go and get a new journal so that I could write things I'd be proud of. But the cycle would continue.
So here I am writing again. But in an old blog. I know that the chances of someone reading it are low but at least I wont lose the entries or find my dog chewing on the journal (still have the pieces in a plastic bag).
The real reason I wanted to write an entry was because I had read some facebook "notes" that were're written by a friend of mine. It was weird how they actually made me feel something. I could truly understand his emotion at that time because I had been in similar situations or had felt the same thing. It was inspiring to see that he was willing to post something so personal in such a public place. I am not like that. At least right now.
So I thought maybe I should write something personal myself. In fact, I could write about why I don't write personally.
Like my buddy said in his entry, you are you're own worst enemy. I could never post anything because I would instantly start thinking about how that would impact other's views of me. After a traumatic experience early in my college career, I found myself with shattered self esteem as well as self image. I didn't know who I was, what I wanted, or who I could trust. It was just easier to try and manufacture the way I presented myself to the world.
Initially one might think that a strategy like that is not the way to go but lately it really has worked for me. My relationship with my girlfriend is really the strongest that I have at this point. After I moved into a house with her, I closed off the doors to most people in my life. Out of choice. I was surrounded by people I didn't want to become or really be associated with. Granted I still have a few friends that I do certain activities with but for the most part I can count my close relationships on one hand no problem.
I think that's why my friend's writing was so moving to me. At one time, before I moved, we were really good friends. I pretty much lived with him and his family for an entire summer and we were friends for many years. Still are although we don't talk as much. I miss that feeling of closeness.
Granted, friendships like that don't happen instantly but still there has to be a reason why I haven't found friends like that again. I wish I could say how I found myself in this situation but I really don't have an answer. When you spend 19 years of your life in the same 20 mile radius, it's hard to connect with people who haven't experienced that same culture.
This is certainly becoming a rant here. And no real conclusion is available to you readers but at least I was able to get something from my heart and put it on paper. Later I'll be in a different emotional state and tell myself how over emotional I was but why? My culture makes it seem like a weakness to show emotion and feel solemn. But I'll tell you its a hell of lot better then feeling nothing.
So here I am writing again. But in an old blog. I know that the chances of someone reading it are low but at least I wont lose the entries or find my dog chewing on the journal (still have the pieces in a plastic bag).
The real reason I wanted to write an entry was because I had read some facebook "notes" that were're written by a friend of mine. It was weird how they actually made me feel something. I could truly understand his emotion at that time because I had been in similar situations or had felt the same thing. It was inspiring to see that he was willing to post something so personal in such a public place. I am not like that. At least right now.
So I thought maybe I should write something personal myself. In fact, I could write about why I don't write personally.
Like my buddy said in his entry, you are you're own worst enemy. I could never post anything because I would instantly start thinking about how that would impact other's views of me. After a traumatic experience early in my college career, I found myself with shattered self esteem as well as self image. I didn't know who I was, what I wanted, or who I could trust. It was just easier to try and manufacture the way I presented myself to the world.
Initially one might think that a strategy like that is not the way to go but lately it really has worked for me. My relationship with my girlfriend is really the strongest that I have at this point. After I moved into a house with her, I closed off the doors to most people in my life. Out of choice. I was surrounded by people I didn't want to become or really be associated with. Granted I still have a few friends that I do certain activities with but for the most part I can count my close relationships on one hand no problem.
I think that's why my friend's writing was so moving to me. At one time, before I moved, we were really good friends. I pretty much lived with him and his family for an entire summer and we were friends for many years. Still are although we don't talk as much. I miss that feeling of closeness.
Granted, friendships like that don't happen instantly but still there has to be a reason why I haven't found friends like that again. I wish I could say how I found myself in this situation but I really don't have an answer. When you spend 19 years of your life in the same 20 mile radius, it's hard to connect with people who haven't experienced that same culture.
This is certainly becoming a rant here. And no real conclusion is available to you readers but at least I was able to get something from my heart and put it on paper. Later I'll be in a different emotional state and tell myself how over emotional I was but why? My culture makes it seem like a weakness to show emotion and feel solemn. But I'll tell you its a hell of lot better then feeling nothing.
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