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| I really like these lyrics. I suggest listening to the song while
reading along. It spoke to me. Perhaps it can do the same
for you:
In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the
front door, into the pale, exhaust-fumed park by Broadwater Farm or the
grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield: turkish supermarket after
chicken restaurant after spare car part shop. Everything in my life
felt like it was coming to a mysterious close: I could hardly walk to
the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
The dates I’d had that summer had come to nothing, my job was a dead
end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month. It
seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer. The only question
left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
It
was ferociously hot, and the air quality became so bad that by the
evening the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
distorted through the shifting air. As I lay in the cool of my room, I
could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in
their gardens. On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer
through the thin wall. I had no money for the pub so I decided to go
for a walk.
I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west, past
the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube
station. I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory – I had
never been this way before. Gravel-dashed houses alternated with square
60s offices, and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter. I
walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do, and by
degrees the light began to fade.
The mouth of an avenue led me
to the verge of a long, greasy A-road that rose up in the far distance,
with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a
distant railway station. There were four benches to my right,
interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area, whose
blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral; and
suddenly tired, I sat down. I held my head in my hands, feeling like
shit, but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment I
lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness. I looked up and I realised
I was sitting in a photograph.
I remembered clearly: this
photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in
Hampshire. It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the
bench, but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had
become the photo. If I looked hard, I could see the lines of the window
ledge in the original photograph were now composed by a tree branch and
the silhouetted edge of a grass verge. The sheen of the flash on the
window was replicated by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly
from behind a fence. My sister’s face had been dimly visible behind the
window, and –yes- there were pale stars far off to the west that traced
out the lines of a toddler’s eyes and mouth.
When I look back at
this there’s nothing to grasp, no starting point. I was inside an
underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in
Haringey.
Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982-ness: dizzy,
illogical, as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had
happened yet. I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the
instinctive tug back - to school, the memory of shopping malls,
cooking, driving in my mother’s car. All gone, gone forever.
I
just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn’t bother trying
to work out what was going on. I was happy just to sit in the photo
while it lasted, which wasn’t for long anyway: the light faded, the
wind caught the smoke, the stars dimmed under the glare of the
streetlamps. I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and
an oncoming gang of kids.
A bus was rumbling to my rescue down
the hill, with a great big “via Alexandra Palace” on its front, and I
realised I did want a drink after all."
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| i wish i wasn't seeing my own true colors in such a weird way but it's happening.
i guess there are solutions...but most are tenuous at best. not sure why i'm turning to xanga for answers but whatever.
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| - A Statue on Easter Island
I look at friendship in a very new light. I realize
that most friendships are meaningless, symbiotic (in a bad way)
relationships, where each person makes the other into what they want to
be. In these friendships, the other person is simply a character
in your life. When it comes down to it...they are what you make
them. Really this all spawned from the fact that I realized, we
don't all live in the same world. It's just your own personal
world that you make whatever you want to of.
The exception to this belief is love. Love, to me, is when
two people agree on a common world to live in. However difficult
(impossible) it is, the two people attempt to form their separate
perspectives into one. This is enviable, and even beautiful.
That being said, there are definitely friendships that have
aspects of love. These are the important friendships. They
take place when two people are able to be (sometimes brutally) honest,
but only because they each know that honesty is always for the
best. It's better to be hurt by the truth than to be protected by
a lie. If someone doesn't believe that, they aren't worth caring
for.
Where I confuse myself is what to make of these new
beliefs. I think the most important thing is to never confuse the
two types of friendship. The bullshit friendships are
necessary, basically impossible to avoid, but they should never
be misconstrued as meaningful.
It's an interesting, practically incomprehensible idea that
everyone has their own perspective and opinions. We all feebly
acknowledge it, but really it is impossible to grasp and be aware of at
all times. I constantly remind myself, that while I think I'm
"perfect" (meaning...I do what I think I 'should' or at least 'want'
to) others feel the same way about themselves. Really, everyone
should be perfect in their own eyes...you can only judge yourself on
your own values and beliefs, and hopefully people do what they think is
best for themselves. Those who don't, do not really concern
me. Not yet, at least.
But what do you do, when this realization that everyone feels
the same importance and power as you do. I guess, nothing.
You must live as you would if you are the only correct person in the
world. But the knowledge, that you have made a conscious decision
to acknowledge others opinions/perspectives in favor of your own, is of
the utmost importance.
So in essence, you must be yourself. You must not look
outwards, but inwards, to figure out who you are, what you believe in,
where you want to go, what the hell matters. The more you look
away from yourself, the further you get from being who you truly
are.
I look at vegetarianism as something true and real in my
life. The reason for this is, I have come to believe I am a
vegetarian because had I not been raised in a world where eating meat
and animals was just, I would not believe it to be just. Thus, it
is something real, inherent in me, distinct from society. My goal
is to find other ideas, hobbies, passions such as this, that are simply
inside me. To me, filtering out the bullshit that we continually
accept (unconsciously) and finding the true self, leads to happiness.
Not to say happiness is the ultimate goal. Self discovery
is the utmost goal. I would rather know who I am, and be unhappy
with it, then live under a false ideal.
Philosophical arguments truly are circular. Eventually,
you run into where you began and ask yourself "Am I the better for
it?" I want to say yes. Truthfully, I do not know.
But then what is the point of all of this, if I am not the better for
it. I hope I am.
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| i don't understand how i have become the person i am. i look into
my past and see a bunch of events that don't add up. i can't
figure out what to do, but i think my only option is to simply embrace
whatever i have become. i'm just scared...
you know those thoughts you have, but you feel bad afterwards and
think.."how could i think that?" those are occuring more
frequently in my mind. i guess in reality, it comes back to
something i have always been intrigued with, and have never really
quite understood.
it amazes me that we all live in 2 worlds, the common world of
interaction and (usually) fakeness, and the world of our own truth in
our minds. it's really easy to push the world of our mind away,
and pretend that the fakeness is real. but every once in a while,
we have a quick reminder where our mind seeps through and puts things
into perspective. i'm afraid i'm slowly no longer blending the
2...instead i only live in the world of my mind. i "live" in the
other world, but my mind remains on its own....i am always conscious of
what i have deemed the "fake world." it has caused me to look at
everything as an outsider...in a way it's good and beautiful, but in
another it chips away at me.
i think xanga is kind of indicative of this idea. for i usually
mix my "here is what i have been up to" with "here is my philosophical
look at life" recently--i only care and focus on that
latter. it's funny that i come to xanga for answers...it's only
because i know there are no answers. good night
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| i am in seattle. i have nothing to do but think. here is some of what i've come up with.
1. subtleties: I've realized that I make my judgements on people not
based on the big things...the more obvious measures of character.
That is usually society speaking, or whatever compromise the person
makes with society. Instead, I always keep a watchful eye, and at
seemingly insignificant moments, I decide my true opinion of
others. People usually let their guard down when they think
something doesn't matter, or when no one is watching. To me, what
better time to truly attempt to understand (or judge?) another.
2. hypocrisy: To me, hypocrisy has lost its negative
connotation. The human mind allows us to hold certain things as
truths and then simply reject them at whatever time we deem
necessary. For example, I may think it's wrong that my clothes
are made in a sweat shop somewhere, but that doesn't stop me from
buying them. As trivial an example as it may be, this type of
logic is used to determine most actions. So, I have come to the
conclusion that I should embrace my hypocrisy. It is an advantage
we have been given that our mind is able to work this way. Thus,
simply expand the process to encompass avenues you never have, and
begin to enjoy yourself.
3. manipulation/persuasion: I guess I'm somewhat of a
cynic, but this is because I know only how my own thought process
works, and have no evidence to the contrary. Much of what I say
is an attempt to get leverage in a given relationship. However
unpopular it may be to admit this, I think it's true of nearly all of
us, even if it is subconscious. This isn't to say I never let
down my guard; I do every day. But many times, I catch myself
attempting to manipulate situations and people so as to achieve my
goals with doing the least amount of work. Others have noticed
this tendency. I don't always achieve what I hope to, but the
simple fact that such things are possible causes me to think. I
marvel at the power one human can exert over another with ease; the
tone, the nuances of speach that can affect others is incredible.
I think once someone masters this, nothing else matters--you will
succeed.
I don't know. I'm not sure I fully agree with these ideas, I just
have started to see everything in a new way. It's a start.
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