May 12, 2011

New goal, looking at one thing and seeing everything.

 “People will only hate you, not because of who you are, but because of what they are afraid of.”

My thoughts flow nicely in when I am in the shower…

This morning I was thinking about how when I first told people from church I was majoring in philosophy, there was a lot of cynicism because philosophy is apparently usually associated with atheism.  How ridiculous, I thought, for them to think that, when there is obviously a lot of reference to religion and trying to figure out God’s existence… Philosophy is not solely against it all.

But of course, I should not judge them.  It makes sense that they would only talk about the negative aspects, even if they knew the positive aspects.

“People will only talk about what they are afraid of”

Because they would not think it is important if it wasn’t something that you absolutely had to “watch out” for.

“People will only judge you not because of who you are, but because of what they are afraid of.”

But the “judging” that I refer to here is negative prejudice, obviously a judgment that they fear; and not a positive prejudice, which is still wrong, and is still inspired by fear (of the opposite concept), but they do not “judge” you in the sense in which we are against.

“People will not like you not because of …”

Condense “not like” to a smaller word

“People will hate you, not because of who you are, but because of what they are afraid of”

But I like the “judging” one better, especially since positive prejudice is also induced by fear… it may be misunderstood, but also people will understand from it what they cherish the most from it, or maybe they will challenge it because of who they think I am.  A situation in which its own quote applies.

So this is an example of how I come up with “philosophical stuff”, but this does not mean that you can follow the same “step process”.  I think it’s because this is only what happens on the outside of my thinking, I bet there is more to it, something I am not identifying.  Like the direction of my thinking, or the emotions that create the thoughts, or maybe the it is the “wanting to see how things”.

May 9, 2011

How depression affects me:

So sometimes I lay in bed and I do not want to get up because… I guess I don’t care.  It may seem like if I am lazy, or procrastinating, and it very well may be… and I think there is a correlation with these and how much one wallows in self-defeat, hate themselves, are depressed.

Sometimes I want to work out; I want to run, jump and play.  But I feel that the fun I have right now, I will soon look down on, ashamed to have done it. 

Kind of like this: imagine you were wearing a tutu over your clothes at a costume party.  During the costume party you venture off into the woods and eventually get lost.  You are all alone, in the midst of darkness you begin to doubt your survival, you become desperate, and fear is above the threshold, so that you become this creature that acts purely out of fear, despair, and survival.  You rip off your tutu and rub off your make up, not because it hinders your survival, but because it is impertinent.  “YOU ARE ABOUT TO DIE!!! How can you be concerned about looking good for the party?!”  You think back on all the concerns you used to have: will I get laid tonight?  Is my friend mad at me?  Does my tutu make me look less macho?  Is it going to be cold?  Should I bring a jacket?  I hope I don’t get too smelly.  All these concerns you look down on, you can’t believe how you could have ever been so concerned about such trivialities… it’s even a disgrace how I lived in that state of mind; how concerned I was about “my honor” that I went through so much trouble to get back at that asshole.  Now nature is insulting my LIFE, threatening it; and all I can do is beg; that asshole who I once saw as “my enemy” is now a friend compared to this merciless entity.

It will be hard to relate to this if you cannot think of a situation which forced you to think like this.

Also how when the Israelites were getting raped by other nations, under siege and starved.  They threw all their gold out the door; something that they once valued over justice, they would abuse children and widows for this gold, and they held on to it tightly, greedily.  And now, their lives were on the line, and their eyes were opened to see how worthless their lives were.  Shame.

Through thoughts like these, everything I care about gets degraded.

May 8, 2011

“The more depressed you are, the less people care about you. The more depressed you are the less people care about you, the more depressed you are the less people care about you. The more depressed you are the less people care about you. The morer depressed you are the less people care about you. The more depressed you are. The less people care about you the more depressed you are, the less people care about you.”   It is getting too strong, I should go somewhere private to hide my agony…

“A truth I have found to be consistent… People don’t like you unless you are already happy, if you fall on the ground, you will just get trampled; if you try to stand up, you will just trample yourself.” 

The walls of my room are not thick enough to keep my cries from being heard.  I run down to the basement.

“Sometimes people pretend to care, but don’t let them know what you are truly feeling inside… do not dare open yourself up to them.  Sometimes they even dare to believe that they want to know you better, sometimes they think that they want you to open up… “

Maybe someone will hear me from down here, and come to console me. 

“Why do you insist on lying to yourself? Have not you realized?  Do not trust anyone, everyone is human, everyone is wrong, no one is trustworthy, no one.”

I bang my head against the bed, and I writhe in fear of whoever may come pretending to care; but only hiding their disgust towards me.

“Pain is upstairs, pain is upstairs.  I need love, unconditional love.  Not this love, with hidden hate.”

”How could I have fooled myself to think there was actually someone here I could trust?  I’ve wanted to get married since I was 6 for emotional security, but marriage will not solve this… Not human love, not even a mother’s love.”

“Pain is upstairs, don’t you dare go there for consolation.  Don’t you dare go up there in search of hope; to make amends… there is always hidden hate, no matter how happy they appear to be on the outside, there is always hate stored up inside of them, reserved for the right moments.  Pain is upstairs; pain is upstairs… remember this.  Unconditional pain…”

My nasal passages stuffed up from sobbing… I can hardly breathe through them. 

Would not it be painful to suffocate hopelessly?  Good thing I’m not in that much pain…

I’m just confused… even if I am not wrong.

I am in pain, and that’s why I am no better.

After my sobbing has died, I lay on the bed.  A deep breath relieves me from the last of my grief.  Tears flow out of my eyes; residue from the storm.  I compare myself to my archetype: “Should there be tears on my eyes right now?”…  I realize, that I am perfect just the way I am.

“Though I was dying inside for someone to do that, I just didn’t expect it, so I wasn't ready to accept it.”  All this time I have been focusing on accepting the pain; I’m glad to know I have this other problem.

(This isn’t the first time I’ve “learned” this, my fear of emotional pain makes me prone to it.)

This morning: The reason why people eat too much is because they crave something other than the food they are eating… they crave the experience.  But as they eat, they forget to cherish the moment because they are so anxious to get it down their throat to subside the craving.  Kind of like Patrick in that SpongeBob episode:  Patrick has a candy, and he eats it, then he wonders where it went.  He gets angry and blames SpongeBob for stealing it, he wants it back.  Well people are like this in real life, except they buy another candy, they take another bite, they eat another chip.

So this morning I ate a slice of wheat bread, and I tried to savor it.  I tried to lick off the wheat shavings on the top crust; they were pretty stuck on there.  I broke it apart and observed how slowly it tore.  I looked at all the freckles, and the specks, and the consistency; I made sure I knew what I was going inside my body, soon to be a part of me.  I felt how softly it tore apart as my teeth sank into it, how it moved out of the way as my molars locked together.  Then it became wet with saliva, and it was a whole new substance.

I bit another piece off: the crunch that it had from being half toasted felt like a million performances… a million stories from a million miniscule and evanescent lives.  Then I thought about the rest of the process… it’s a whole epic.  Then sensation it makes in me… a whole lifetime of a universe.  How it affects my day… an eternity.  The difference it makes in my life… beyond divine.

The world is so big, and so full of life.  There is a universe in every speck of dust, and an eternity in every nanosecond.  There is so much to see and yet we rush for the next moment. 

Everything is here, the satisfaction of all my desires, my love fulfilled, wonders of honor and courage, the most complex tragedies and degradations to satisfy the heart; it calls me from within the details… within the ether.  It’s all here.

May 7, 2011

Your desire is my fodder, I harvest by satisfying them. I patiently nurture the seed, by having faith that your ignorance will be subsided. …

FUCk!

My imagination, stupid imagination keeps working to try and get rid of this feeling; my mind does not like to feel the cycles of my living body, so it attempts to escape the sensation, unwilling to put up with things that it is not used to feeling, “pain”, by running around inside itself, constantly looking for a better world to dwell in.  But what if, I am willing? What if I savor it instead?  Will not my mind stop running?

May 5, 2011

I was walking from Reid to GloHo and thinking about how I would rather feel.  But also thinking about it should not matter how I feel.  I should not avoid feelings but accept them. And so as I felt willing, I managed to think of myself as willing, and so I was.  And as I was willing to feel shitty, I let myself feel shitty… but then when I felt shitty, I wasn’t willing anymore; which is exactly what I didn’t want.  But then I realized that they only reason I did not feel willing was because that is what it means to feel shitty; and I should not try to not feel unwilling (because then I would not be willing to feel shitty).  But to let myself feel “unwilling” for as much as I did, then I would truly be willing to feel shitty (even if I didn’t feel like it).

I dared myself to stop as I was crossing the street, to give myself a chance, or to see if I was able to cope with the uneasiness that the behavior would create.  My head began feel dense, fear came from different directions into my being, quickly my imagination came up with a different perspective and all the pain went away. 

That was interesting.  The pain went away because an idea that I came up with, wow.  If ideas can do that, I wonder if all types of pain are extinguishable with “ideas”.  Like when I was running last Wednesday and I felt like collapsing… the way I would normally extinguish that pain is by stopping and resting.  It doesn’t seem to be the same type of pain, since it seems to need more than just an idea to extinguish it… or is it, that I just do not have a good enough imagination to come up with a good enough perspective to make the pain go away.

Why do the ideas  make the pain go away?  The new ideas bring a new perspective, and the new perspective allows your body to respond to your situation differently; whereas once your glands pumped adrenaline to make your blood boil, a new idea made it calm again.  I this way, the idea is not something in some mystical and hidden realm, the idea is part of your body.  Your imagination and each of your thoughts is a physical event  in your body.  And so I realized: There is no such thing as an “inner world”  where you get to keep your thoughts to yourself and have no one look at them.  Your thoughts are exposed to everyone as they are part of the world just as much as the wind.  They may be hidden inside your head, but they are still happening in the world, literally.

But these changes of perspectives (due to ideas), do not mean that I accept the pain, but only that I avoided it with my imagination. 

Did I manage to cope with it?

I rather not think I was successful