i hold grudges, and i don't get past them until we talk it out or someone apologizes.
i especially don't like people who deem themselves fit to make detrimental implications toward my character in public. that's one of the most speedy and effective ways to piss me off.
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nestor's hypothesis #3: we continue to keep one-sided relationships in our lives because we really do care that much.
i agree.
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i think of all these great ideas in my head. i dream out every little detail, and i even envision people's reactions when i complete the task. and yet, i never even attempt to put these ideas into motion. i always have some excuse. i'm too tired. it's too expensive. they'll think it's stupid.
i think i'm just not a do'er. i'm a watcher. i watch as people are lauded for ideas that, not to sound haughty or condescending, are so terribly flawed. then i'm content to lean back against the wall and think, "see? if you had just tried to tell them your idea, they would've thought you were brilliant. you dummy."
and not to jock benjy's style, but... why do insitutions believe that the best way to choose a candidate is through a list of accomplishments and a couple of essays? we all know that half of that list is exaggerated, and that the essays are usually highlly embellished pages of horse-poo.
mixed feelings. why do they exist? why can't we just feel one way about something, and only one way? is there really such a thing as a love-hate relationship? if you loved someone, then you can't hate them right? and if you hated them for, say hurting you, then it's no longer love, because loving them would mbe forgiving them, right? so why do we still have these mixed feelings? is it because we've felt one way for so long that we can't stand to just radically change our views?
these are things i want to talk to people about. but how are you supposed to start? "hey, how was your day? by the way, why do you think love-hate relationships exist?"
i think i've gotten to a point where i just ask a question and then i don't really listen when he answers. it's terrible, i know. but hearing his voice just makes me feel so much better, regardless of the content of his side of the conversation.
Caddy smells like leaves.
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you ever do something that suddenly triggers a random memory from long ago? it hits you like a jolt, and you stand dazed for a couple of seconds, grateful for the piece of your life you just rediscovered? it happens to me sometimes when i smell a familiar scent. i don't see things and remember, and touch means close to nothing to me. but scents. they trigger memories that are hidden so far in the back of my mind that i'm surprised they're still there. this is why i'm afraid of losing my sense of smell. I wouldn't just be losing the smell of good food or fresh flowers; i would be losing that chunk of my life that i'll never rediscover.
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you ever miss somebody who's sitting right next to you? miss their smile, miss their warm embrace, miss their unending concern for your well-being? well that's stupid, you might say. they're sitting right next to you. all you have to do is smile to see them smile, reach out to feel their warmth, sigh to feel their concern. but it's not that simple. because...just because. because so much time has passed. because you've become such a different person since you last saw each other. because there's the tiniest possibility that they no longer feel the way that they used to about you.
you ever realize how much easier it was to hug your parents when you were a kid? It felt so natural back then. The weeks that they've been gone doesn't matter. The last time they scolded you is ancient history. The hurt feelings they inflicted are quickly healed. One hug was enough to make up for anything. What happened since then? When did the days they're gone begin stacking up like bricks in your heart? When did the scoldings turn into slammed doors and looks of disappointment, nagging at the back of your mind? When did the hurt feelings start festering like some flesh-eating sore? And you desperately want to just reach out for that miracle drug, that one hug that will make this all go away. But you don't do it.
What made us so forgiving when we were young? And what happened to make us such ugly people in the end? Is it our pride? Our ego? Our inability to admit that, as behind the times as they are, our parents still know better than us?
What is it that keeps a warm embrace flying just out of reach? Somebody just tell me. Why?
blogging makes me kind of depressed. i think writing in general makes me depressed. and I'll just make this post private later anyway, so i dont know why i even bother.
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you think of all the things you want to say, everything that's dammed up inside you waiting to come crashing out. you think about how beautifully your words will convey what you're thinking, how you're feeling, why you're writing. you think of all the people who, after twenty years, will venture to put aside their misconceptions and finally, finally understand you. why you do the things you do, why you say the words you say, why you think the thoughts you think. and just when you reach out for that ray of hope, reach out for all those people who never gave you a chance...you realize that you just don't have what it takes. not enough talent, not enough courage, not enough sincerity--really just not enough of anything. and instead of finally emerging to dazzle those you love with a brilliance of color, you swathe yourself further in insipid updates, desultory trains-of-thought, or maybe just a single utterance of obscenity. fuck.
in the end, you chastise yourself for allowing naive ambition to carry you away.
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