What to Complain About When You're Feeling Completely Self-Absorbed

"If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself."

- Martin Heidegger

I feel like I miss every day of my life by sitting in an office looking outside at the beautiful day that could be mine to enjoy in an alternate reality. I find myself daydreaming and being curious about where else I could be, like Disneyland with my nieces and nephews. I don't mean to sound ungrateful because it's wonderful to have a job in this economy, especially given the fact that my current workplace is probably infinitely more enjoyable than most I know of. In fact, I really do love where I work. Yet there's this emptiness within me.

I feel like I want to spend my every waking moment with family and friends. But they have their jobs, too. We all do. It's a fact of life. It's good to be busy, I'm sure. Not too busy, but a little busy. However, I haven't really found my "thing" yet. I've come to accept that one's "thing" they love to do isn't necessarily a paid job but can simply be a hobby. So I've decided to start pursuing some of the things I've always been interested in doing but have never really tried.

I would love to be an actress or a singer or a writer or even an inspirational speaker. I would love to learn how to play piano or guitar and sing to people. But first I would need a beautiful voice. Mine's okay. But it doesn't make me feel incredibly inspired, so I'm not sure it would make anyone else feel that way either. I haven't done anything in my life that's super inspirational, but I think I have the ability to get other people motivated to make the most of themselves. Which is why I'm so incredibly frustrated with myself for not figuring out how to do that for myself. It's always a lot more clear to us what other people are good at and capable of than it is in regard to ourselves.

I think I'd love to act mostly because it would help me let go of being afraid to say or feel certain things. And because it's the type of career (if you're wildly successful, that is) that gives you the power needed to help change the world by getting other people motivated. Anyway, I think it would help me become more open and honest with myself, and it would challenge me to get in touch with every part of my personality. I think acting also helps people understand other people's situations and personalities as well. I guess it all kind of makes sense since I love studying psychology and personalities and human behavior.

I wish that the things I'd love to do weren't so difficult to get into in the first place. I also dislike how much criticism is involved in the creative field since everything is mostly subjective in it, but, at the same time, it would probably be good for me to sort of go through a trial by fire. It would help me get over my fears of failure and what other people think of me.

I haven't totally been loving myself recently. I really don't have anything concrete to complain about, and I love all the people around me. In fact, I've been having a blast with my friends and Kyle recently. However, I think I kind of complain a lot since I'm becoming disenchanted with human nature and the world in general (which is kind of another tangent having to do with whether the world is just worse off right now or if I'm just getting older and realizing that not everything is quite as wonderful as I may have previously thought - that's a whole other topic for another post). And yet I'm still simultaneously amazed by all of it, too. Maybe what I've always seen in myself as balance is really just one big contradiction.

I guess that's all I have to say right now. Well, that's a lie. I just can't put the rest of it into words just yet.

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Boy, I really am a broken record, aren't I? I was just re-reading everything I've written, and I feel like such an Eeyore. I guess I'm just in a creative rut and have nothing else interesting to write about at the moment. Any suggestions for what you do to get yourself motivated and/or jump-start your imagination?

Also, here's a slap for me. *SLAP* Phew, I needed that. I need to get out of my head and start looking around at other people. I need to figure out how to solve some of the societal problems that have been discouraging me recently. It's a daunting task, which is why I think I so often neglect my inclination to want to help fix things. Kyle gets to help people every day, and I would love to find something to do that could help other people in some small way, or inspire them at the very least. So that is the vague goal I have, I suppose. Good, now I've gotten to the core of what draws me to all of those things I mentioned earlier. That's a start at least.

Man, do you ever just get caught between the choices of completely focusing only on the things that truly seem to matter, like helping other people and providing enough for your family, and the more petty option of spending time reflecting on yourself and your choices? I start to feel really self-centered, and it really bothers me. Again, all about me, huh? How annoying. At the same time, though, I don't think we can neglect ourselves, our wants, our needs, our loves, or else we'll completely fall apart and be of no use to anyone else either. So maybe figuring yourself out is the foundation to being helpful in life and serving a purpose other than converting oxygen into carbon dioxide, which, by the way, is not that great of a purpose. Then again, I ain't no scientist.

Humans sure do have a wonderful capacity for justifying their own actions, don't they? I need to figuratively shut up now. No more writing. Okay, now I'm really stopping. Wait, now I am. Wait, gah! Isn't this the worst? I'm so cliché. Stream of consciousness, hooray!

Mad Woman

"I keep going to a lot of places and ending up somewhere I've already been."

- Don Draper

This is just a reminder to myself to post about Mad Men and how it has worked its way into my subconscious to the point that it disrupts my sleep. And apparently my productivity at work.

Rise Up With Fists

This cover is just as old as the one I posted last week (about five or six years old, to be somewhat exact.) I can't believe it's been that long since my first couple years of college. Anyway, I've been starting to pursue the whole singing thing a little bit, so thank you to everyone who inspired me to give it a shot. Your kind words are more meaningful and appreciated than you'll ever know!

Archipelago

Looking Back

I was reading over all of my old posts on another blogspot blog I used to have in college. I made me wish I could still write in that wistful, breathless way that I always used to even just a couple years ago. I'll have to get back in touch with that part of myself soon. Anyway, I found a post that I thought captured me really well. It made me start to cry at one point when I was reading it, and I'm not exactly sure why or at what point it happened. But I figured that was a good sign that I ought to post it tonight. I wrote this just over four years ago, right after I turned 20. Sounds so young to me already...

Be forewarned: I don't know how to get rid of that white background, and there are no paragraph breaks. Here goes:

Maybe it isn't good to write for an audience. You're not really open. Not genuine. But, then again, maybe you're kind of writing for yourself when you write to no one. Which means you're writing to your harshest critic. Which means you're not really open. Not genuine. I haven't had anything to write for a long time. Or maybe I have but just haven't made the time to do it for whatever reason. I've been seeing life differently this whole year. I don't go out as much. I don't have as many friends. And I'm fine admitting that because I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Maybe it's not that I don't have as many friends but just that we don't make as much time for each other as we used to. I used to see each day differently. Like a movie. Like everyone was a character in my movie. Including myself. Now I just live. I think. I never really know anything for sure. I never speak with conviction. Even that isn't a statement I can make with conviction because sometimes I probably do speak with conviction. I'm too diplomatic. Is there such a thing?I should read a book or something to get my mind thinking about something other than the food abbreviations at Chili's. I hate when I get certain things stuck in my head like a word that's difficult to spell or a phrase in another language. Une feuille de papier. Facetious. SteakPorto. I like poems because no one expects them to make sense. Or at least they shouldn't. I don't think poems should be so structured. Structure is meant for things like work. Not life. Things with structure can be fun sometimes but only in spite of it, not because of it. If I write a poem and someone interprets it in a way that offends them, I can just tell them they don't understand it. But if I flat-out say something offensive, there's no rearranging my words. Though sometimes even straight language can be misinterpreted. Humor, sarcasm, satire. They don't always translate just right. I don't even know what I'm getting at anymore.I want to live larger. I don't know what that means I would have to do, but I'm willing to do it. I don't want to get caught up in petty disputes. I don't want to worry about what I'm going to wear. I just want to live and enjoy. I want to take it for what it's worth. Whatever "it" may be. Big picture, small picture; they both reflect one another. Small helps interpret big in a way we can comprehend. Big helps us not get too focused on small. Balance, moderation, diplomacy. Is there a such thing as too much moderation? Perfection. If moderation leads to perfection, but you don't want too much perfection, then where does that leave you? Living. Striving. And hopefully enjoying.This doesn't have to make sense to you. That's not to say it's difficult to understand because it isn't. It just doesn't have to make perfect sense.I read this article in a small art magazine that they have on the newsstands at our school for free. It said that when people make pottery or weave blankets, etc., that they'll often put a flaw in them on purpose. It reminds them that nothing is perfect. It helps them to remain at ease with imperfection. In a way, that makes it seem like there's a such thing as a perfect flaw. A perfectly placed flaw. We all have them. It's just that not everybody loves everybody else's. But sometimes you find someone who appreciates even your perfectly placed flaws. Hold on to those people. It's easy to love people for everything that's right about them. The much more difficult thing is to love them in spite of, or even because of, their supposed flaws. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then so is imperfection. If you realize through your own struggles that you can never be perfect no matter how hard you try, then why expect someone else to be? It is in the trying. Do they try to be the best person they can be? Then love them for that. Treat them as if they are already whom and what they hope to become. I think I read something somewhere that had advice like that. I like it. I really like it. I don't even know where to end. I'm usually always looking forward to writing a good conclusion. I just don't have one in me at the moment. I guess that just means I'm not finished with this yet. I think that's a good thing.