The Lost Friend Effect: A Theory

I've been doing some thinking lately, and feel the necessity to write down my thoughts. They, as always, are of no particular significance insofar as I may be the only person who can relate to these obscure concepts, but I, as a write, am willing to take the chance that maybe someday my words will mean something. Even if it's just to my future self.
Thus the intro to my thinking.
I was reading "The Time Traveler's Wife." I picked up the book a few times at Target last year and thought the cover and the idea was interesting. However, whenever I read (and reread several times in my purchasing deliberation over some months) I pictured the characters to be old, and some old scientist guy was making a time machine and visiting his wife at different times. Thus, I figured I would not be able to relate to the characters (having not been an old scientist or an old scientists' wife) and therefore, I would sadly always put the book back on Target's book shelf right next to Twilight, which I had read. (note the mental sneer)
Anyway, after seeing the movies preview 1,000 times and having those catchy songs get stuck in my head for weeks at a time, I wanted to give the book a try. I decided that maybe I would have something in common after all with the characters, since they were obviously younger, and Rachel McAdams never picks a role that girls cannot relate. Also, I wouldn't mind picturing Eric Bana for the duration of my read.Thus, to make a long story short (I know, too late) I finished the book in a mad rush (2 days total.) I was in awe of the modern, yet stylish and creative writing techniques of Audrey Niffenegger, because let's face it, I'm a sucker for multiple writing styles in one book to add character personalities. Anyway, the book was amazing and as I anxiously hurried through the last few pages and read in a trance of pure entertainment, I found myself longing for more after the final words.
As mainstream media would have it, I flipped on my trusty Instinct, hit "movies" and magically within seconds found the showing times of the movie at MJR. I hastily showered and threw on some clothes (because I was on a two day reading binge) and called up my sister to drag her to a showing conveniently a half an hour away. I was in a crazed frenzy with a need to have more of my beloved Henry and his friends, to hold on just a little bit longer to his story.
This is sad, I am aware of that. You're probably thinking, "Wow man, this girl needs to get out more." But in fact, it may be the opposite. YOU may need to stay in more, because this is the awesomeness that happens.
Any devout reader can tell you (I hope) the extreme connectedness you feel towards protagonists (or perhaps antagonists (like Iago!!)) when you read a story for any length of time.
It doesn't take much for this to happen. In fact, while speeding to my sister's house to pick her up to see the movie, I was wondering what this feeling was that came over me. Why was I in such a hurry? Couldn't I wait until she finished the book so we can enjoy it fully together? Why did I have to go right after I turned the last page? And why did I feel like an addict?
So here's my theory.
Any reader can tell you, as I've said. You read a book for a lengthy period of time. You become one with the characters. In fact, I would bet my right hand that most people picture themselves as one of the characters and see the scenes play out through their eyes. This is just what happens. This is why books are better than movies. And here's the strange introspective kicker. The reason that I was reading the book in the first place was because I was so insanely bored with my own life. My friends were nothing new, my creative thoughts were non-existent, and quite simply I just wanted to get away from life, and to stay away for a little while. This is where most people reach for the liquor bottle, or call a hooker, or ex-boyfriend, or simply turn on the tv. But me, I reach for the bookshelves. Because let face it, where else can you escape for two days where you meet new people, go on crazy adventures you're too much of a coward in real life to do, fall in love, and for only the price of $11.99? Yeah, that's right. Books were the best inventions made for reality-escaping-introverts like me. And yes, I say this with a grin across my face.
So while driving on the dark, rainy night thinking of my friends Henry and Clare, I feel this loss. And there's no way to really explain this loss except for picturing a friend you spent everyday with for awhile, and then they disappeared. You can't reach them, and you have no idea how their life will turn out. That's what it feels like for me when I finish a really good book. You feel empty for your friends. Because when you really think about it, you spend at least about 48 non-stop hours with these people floating around in your head. And really, these events in the book that play in your head are not so different as actual events that play in your head also. How different is the registry? Everything is still perceived in the same place, just one is fiction. You are thinking about both events the same. Well that's a bit drastic. But seriously. What's the difference of listening to your friend talk about a story for 2 hours, and you imagining it, than reading about one and you imagining it the same. In fact, you actually are more inside the head of this fictional friend, than you ever could be inside of your friend's head. (This idea was brought to me from my friend whom I was telling this theory to on the car ride over to my sister's)
Anyway. This theory is getting a bit too Descartes for me. What is reality? Yeah, he doesn't know either. And that's another point that I wanted to make. Awhile ago, my friend Stephanie was expressing her anguish for not having any more philosophy classes. She and I both discussed our loss and our feelings of the "lost friend effect" when it came to Sartre, Kant, and Descartes. I miss their ramblings of the populace and reality's effect on them. I admit that I would prefer having conversations with them any day over, "So last weekend we got so wasted..." stories. People don't philosophize anymore and it's just appalling.
So that's my theory of The Lost Friend Effect.
In other news, I felt this sudden inner pull to purchase a watch. I had no idea where it came from, but I found myself frantically searching the web for a watch to suit this desire. In retrospect, I usually despise watches. I never wear one for a few personal reasons; a. I am very neurotic and used to check the time constantly, b. I can't stand the ticking, c. I fell into this whole hippy phase where I don't necessarily believe in time, d. I hate time dictating my life. But minus those few objections, I found myself at work always wondering what time it was and would become frustrated when I was away from my phone (which you can't have on the floor) and there would be no clocks around. Also, at school all the clocks are off so you never know if you're late, and in each classroom they neglect (purposefully I presume) to install clocks. I grew irritated having to dig through my purse to find my phone just to find the time, and therefore, I bought a watch that tells me the time and date so that I can (I guess) be responsible, or just avoid further temperaments with time. Plus, it even glows in the dark.

Read everything - trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write.

Due to the obscure rain clouds that float above my head (in a purely literal sense here) I must stay inside my little glass box instead of walking around outside. The weather is a tad undecided about what it feels like doing today, and thus, even with the sun showing, rain flows in little spurts. Quite annoying.
Thus, I was drawn to my computer to 1. keep me awake 2. amuse me and 3. pass the time. The latter reason is quite unsettling however, as the theory of relativity keeps popping in my head because I swear I look at the clock every 30 minutes when in reality, only about 10 have passed. This may be my very last day trapped in this box, and therefore, I wish today to go by quickly. This is not happening.
Thus, I stumbled across this questionnaire that I found intriguing. Why? Because I'm a nerd.
You have received this note because someone thinks you are a literary geek. Copy the questions into your own note, answer the questions, and tag any friends who would appreciate the quiz, including the person who sent you this.

1) What author do you own the most books by?
Elliot Perlman or Augusten Burroughs, I think they are tied with 5 each.

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Siddhartha, I own two because one was a present.

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
yes, actually. I cringed.

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Simon from Perlmans's Seven Types of Ambiguity, Robbie from McEwan's Atonement, and Odd from Koontz's Odd Thomas.

4a) What fictional character would you most like to be?
Either Dagny from Atlas Shrugged, Stormy from Odd Thomas (minus the fact that she dies suddenly in the first book), Cecilia from Atonement, or Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice.

4b) What fictional character do you think most resembles you?
Either Elizabeth or Stormy from 4a, but most likely Stormy. Or perhaps Katherina from The Taming of the Shrew.

5) What book have you read the most times in your life?
Siddhartha

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
Most likely Harry Potter. But I honestly can't remember that far back, or if I even read.

7) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?
McCarthy's The Road. I had to put it down after 9 pages. The writing was horrendous.

8) What is the best book you've read in the past year?
I've actually been reading a lot of lighter books this year due to the heavy classic literature intake during the semester. So I'd have to say that I really enjoyed, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Odd Series, Atlas Shrugged (which I'm still reading), and Killing Yourself to Live.

9) If you could force everyone you tagged to read one book, what would it be?
I'd have to go with Atlas Shrugged, The Little Prince, or Siddhartha. So we have one for political, social, and spiritual enlightenment =)

10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for literature?
Nothing recently has caught my attention as worthy of that in modern times. Everything is autobiographical, but I'm not complaining. And the only thing popular is trashy books. So I don't know. Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves is the most outrageous, ingenious, original book I've read by a modern author. So perhaps him.

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?
Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves or Perlman's Seven types.

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?
Anything else by Stephenie Meyer or McCarthy.

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
I had a few dream about Odd Thomas in his adventure, of course, I was his leading lady. And a few sepia-toned dreams involving characters from Austen's novels

14) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult?
Twilight.

15) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?

Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves just because you are continuously switching narrators and literally have to turn the book different ways to read it. But I'd also have to go with Beowulf, The Canterbury Tales, The Fairie Queen, The Unfortunate Traveller, and Shakespeare took awhile to get used to.


16) What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you've seen?
If we're going with seen instead of read, I'd either have to say Titus (Titus Andronicus) or Romeo and Juliet (the 1996 version)

17) Do prefer French or Russian?
French, only because I liked Tocqueville.

18) Roth or Updike?
Neither

19) David Sedaris or Dave Eggers?
Again, neither.

20) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Oh man. Milton was the most fun with Paradise Lost, but I am a bit of a drama nerd, so also Shakespeare, but I like Chaucer's messages. All of the above for sure.

21) Austen or Eliot?
Again, both. They're not really in the same category though? Perhaps I'd stick with my girl Jane.

22) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
Anything between the 1700's to the 1850's, minus Jane of course. Also, I despise a lot of modern literature. Or post-modern if you will. Like The Heart of Darkness, worst ever. I get the disillusionment going on, it's just painstaking to read about wars.

23) What is your favorite novel?
Perlman's Seven Types of Ambiguity or Rand's Atlas Shrugged.

24a) Play?
Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus, Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy, or (yes, a modern play!) David Ives' Sure Thing.

24b) Musical?
I doubt I've ever read a musical. But I fell in love with Sweeney Todd.

25) Poem?
One Art by Elizabeth Bishop, Birches or The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, and Plath's Lady Lazarus.

26) Essay?
I have no idea what it was called, but a woman compared existentialism and Buddhism in an essay I read in my early college years. I fell in love. But I believe I sold the anthology, so I can't look it up ={

27) Short story?
Good Morning, Again by Elliot Perlman. I'm not going to lie, this 8 page short story gave me motivation to write my stories. Best and most emotion I've ever felt with such a short work.

28) Work of non-fiction?
Aristotle's Ethics, or Machiavelli's The Prince. (Do these count as non-fiction?)

29) Who is your favorite writer?
Perlman, Plath, Rand.

30) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
Stephanie Meyer Stephanie Meyer!!! or McCarthy. Or Poe. Seriously, I know he's one of the most respected authors of America, but seriously, he's so repetitive I get annoyed just thinking of his works.

31) What is your desert island book?
Oh man. Perlman's Seven Types, it's long, emotional, I'm in love with the character, and it changes every time I read it. But I would prefer to bring my Sony Reader.

32) And ... what are you reading right now?

Finishing up Atlas Shrugged, finally. =]

It turns out that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order - and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order

I was doing some chaos theory thinking today on my drive to school this morning. Driving down Southfield fwy, it seemed as though everyone was moving in accordance with another. People were signaling and changing lanes just as those had already switched, leaving room for them. It became almost a symphony of highway driving, which is strange since I have a bad case of road rage, and usually my drive to school is filled with turbulent, precarious drivers cutting me off every chance they got. But this morning, I felt at peace as everyone around me was somehow aware of the greater force moving us in our direction. Of course, this could also be that I was half asleep and had just woken up a few minutes beforehand thanks to my exhausted brain.
Regardless, this unusual highway behavior got me thinking about the greater and broader questions of our universe and generation, which of course, is always a good thing to be doing while driving at 8 a.m. So I was contemplating the greater complexities of the world when the chaos theory popped in my head. I thought as though this highway was as good a metaphor as any to compare and relate the universe's chaos in my feeble little mind. First off, I would like to say that I have not solved any great dilemma of our time, and I do not claim to have any knowledge of the following topics, and/or anything for that matter. I am but a simple person working things out in her brain to the best of her abilities, just as anyone else.
So, this highway full of cars does not necessarily represent chaos, since we have laws and rational minds behind the drivers. We are all going one way and at appropriate speeds (and of course all very wary of police since they hide out along the overpasses.) And the thing that makes it most unlike chaos is that we all have a place to go. We have reason in our heads and this is telling us where we need to be. Now I pictured a place with no street lights or lanes and imagined what the traffic would be like then. Without a doubt, people would ultimately figure out a way to direct themselves. Why? Because there is order in the universe. Well, some believe that anyway. People love order, almost crave it, and I'm sure you've seen those people who have a mental breakdown when things are out of place. I, fortunately, am not one of those people and embrace the ambiguity and disarray this world has to offer. However, I was thoroughly intrigued when I looked up the word pandemonium and as it came with definitions wild uproar and disorder, the 4th definition was simply HELL. Now, in Milton's Paradise Lost, Pandemonium is the capital of Hell. So apparently, chaos=disorder=anarchy=evil=Hell. And for some reason I was struck by the fact that everything must have its place and command, otherwise it's labeled as evil. But if you think about it, we find beauty in the chaotic behaviors (or what appear to be), such as modern art.
So then, back to the traffic metaphor, and where I was really going with all of this. So these crazy people who drive all over the place in a lawless atmosphere, they would ultimately find a system of harmony because they knew where they had to get to. Now I would like to dive a little deeper, get your scuba gear!, into a subatomic level. We, and everything really, is made up of cells, and inside these cells are the particles that make up the cell, which make up every entity this world has to offer. Now these tiny subatomic particles, the activities of neurons and such, all act in accordance with each other to form their main cell and these cells all work together to form the big thing, be it people, plants, this laptop, what have you. So, and I am no physicist, does this reflect the idea that everything has it's own order, and nothing really persists through time in chaos? Does everything in nature move because it knows where it has to go? Even the tiny little air molecules that vibrate and seem to "bounce" off each other in space, do they move in a chaotic pattern, or can someone with an extremely powerful computer calculate where and why its moving?
And for that matter, our brains are simply made up of these subatomic particles. Therefore, are our brains subject to the motion of these atoms? Do we have any control over how, why, or when they move? And yes, here's the big question: are we subject to fate, and this underlying, religious, system of movement only visible to the power itself? And in fact, could someone make this system tangible and therefore control it? (I am slowly drifting to places even I didn't venture to cognitively on my simple drive to school this morning.) And if this were true, that there is some underlying meaning and driving force to our nature, then does that mean that free will is no longer even a concept, as our brains are just particles firing electrical circuits, which eventually boil down to tiny little particles, with or without order.
And if one day, there is solid evidence that everything has its own scientific calculations in its motions, and free will is ruled out, fate would be the driving force of nature, and can you really imagine going against that? We were given reason, but were we given choice? Or just an illusion of choice?
Hmm...
Well, I am going to make a decision which appears to be my own, and go have some tacos.

The more we know, the more we learn that we know nothing

I was in the mood to clean today. One of those rare occasions when I actually do, and I randomly came across my old yearbooks. Of course I immediately grabbed the one that I designed, as the standing senior editor-in-chief at the time. I must admit, looking back on all of the pictures of me, I was a much more confident person. I knew who I was, and I was proud to be her. I was outrageous, loud, obnoxious at times, smart, a little punk-rock-grunge stylish. But my senior year, I couldn't have been a happier person. I was alone with no attachments, and I fell into who I was, who I was meant to be. I know this is a bit broad, however, if you've ever hit one of those peaks, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
Three years later, here I sit. More confused, less confident, unsure of who I am going to be and where I'm going. But I can tell you one thing I've learned. Every time that people get into a relationship, something happens to them. Minus all the drama and feelings that people go through, a part of themselves change when they are with someone. They sort of morph to be more like the other, both parties do this of course. And when you break up, a piece of you goes with them. You lose that part of yourself, and its incredibly painstaking to try to rebuild it, since you cannot even remember, or necessarily put your finger on whats missing.
Looking at this one picture in the yearbook, I had on a pair of bleached-out-ripped-at-the-knees jeans, a green "motion city soundtrack" tshirt, black converses, a green cuff, and green eyeshadow. My hair was pulled back.
Ironically, I still have and know where all of these items are. They are a little worn, and don't fit as well as they did three years ago, but the point is that I still have these items. I still wear them, but the person under them is different. In the picture I am on the back of my old friend, Micah, and I am fake-punching him in the head. It's a fun picture I must admit. And the feeling of utter connectedness came back to me, as I looked at this girl in the picture. I miss her. And then I realized what part of me was taken by my ex. I can't exacly name it, but the closest I can come is the "swagger" or "confidence" I had. I may act like I am confident now, and I can even picture myself before I dated said ex-boyfriend and I had that swagger that girls who know who they are have. So that's what he took. My confidence. And I'm sorry, but that shit is really hard to get back.
With my friends, I know that I have a certain amount of confidence, but in the back of my mind I'm constantly asking myself what the others are thinking about me. This is sad I know. But being in a relationship for a year where you constantly had to question if you were enough to make a boy settle down for you, and in the end you're lied to and cheated on, you start to question yourself and your worth. I've written several blogs on this very subject. But tonight I realized as much as I may speak or write about it, I still am missing that high-school confidence I had.
However, the bright side to this, I am alone now, and I can spend the next few months tryting to rebuild this. I can focus completely on myself, and that's always a good thing. I know where to start, because before aforementioned photograph, I was in a similar relationship perdicament. Realizing this kind of made me happy today, for lack of better terms. And to quote Atlas Shrugged, "Don't let them take it," this is what I'm trying to get across, even to myself.
This quote also ties into a lot of new topics I have found on the theory of "Going Galt" against the Obama administration. I remember reading Atlas Shrugged and feeling a sense of empowerment as I followed Dagny on her long, strenuous campaign for holding up her (and Ayn Rand's) belief in capitalist America. With Obama, many bloggers and reporters are announcing their fear for socialism with Obama's plans. First with government madated health care (look how well Canada turned out with that), to the Big Three bailouts (yay for me losing my job!), we must ask ourselves, how far is he going to take this. I admit, I voted for Obama in hopes that he could lead this country with the new vision of a younger generation. He had confidence. However, with the way things are and now that GM is "Government Motors" (haha I saw that in an email) I think that it is the most prestine time that people like Dagny, Hank, and John need to rise up as did Ford, Rockefeller, and Morgan in the late 19th century. I mean, they bailed out the government, not the goverenment bailing out its people when they are in debt themselves. Something is not right with this system today, and the sooner people realize that it's not the government's responsibility to bail out companies, but instead should let them fall, for the theories of economics proves that the economy will right itself on its own, but it has to hit bottom first. If the government steps in to our free market (more that it already has) then this theory will not work and we may face a stagnant economy where everything stays as it is now, and I for one do not want this to be the world that I bring my children into. So, thus the theory, some wealthy, intelligent, fearless individuals need to step up, and soon. Otherwise, this ominous feeling that the country has will become a reality as we move slowly toward socialism.
I have just realized that I began this blog talking about my lack of confidence while looking at my old yearbook and have ended it with a heated rant on the importance of capitalism. Weird.

all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all.

I am still not particularly inspired to write anything earth-shattering, however, some ideas have come to mind. Shortly after my last blog entry, the one where I was so exuberantly happy with life and the choices that I had made, the universe decided to rear its ugly head, because everyone knows that you can maybe have 3 months of goodness before the universe decides to screw you over. For instance, I lost my job. And although at the time it seemed catastrophic because, lets face it, I am not one to embrace change, it seems now more as a blessing. I needed to move and I could no do that with loyalty to my friends/family/coworkers. And although I only moved a few feet away and am now a security guard, I feel as though I have a normal "student-job" and can move around as I see fit. I get to be capricious now, and that's a good type of change.
I've just recently noticed something about myself. People change drastically when I am emotionally attached. Yes, I know this sounds trite. On the contrary, I've never really looked into the depths of this distinction between perspectives. For instance, there was this person who I began to feel threatened by. I kept going over in my head how they were everything I'm not. I even attempted to act and personify what I thought would be this genre of person while in the public sphere. It did feel good to change it up a bit, I admit, and since when is it a crime to be envious of someone else because they have something that you lack? Anyway, the constant comparisons in my mind to this person were making me doubt my own individual qualities so much so that the debate occurred in my head as to which of us was better. Woah. Stop right there you say? Yes, and I did. Because if you know me, you know that I innately put myself on a pretty high pedestal, because really, if you don't put yourself on one, then who will? So this debate was very tiresome and shook the very foundation of the person I've been trying to become. So today, I will be explicit and not give away details to this particular person of whom I'm describing, but let's just say I saw them in a new light. While going over the facts and actions again I found something different. I was no longer attached to the emotional threat that this person initially posed and that in itself made me care a whole lot less about this competition. I became almost apathetic when thinking or looking at these people, and all of a sudden, the luster was gone. This person seriously has nothing that I lack, and although I feel a little ashamed for wasting all this time in scruples because of this person and questioning my own qualities, it's just made me realize even more that with time and a little more distance, you can actually train your emotional attachments. Almost like learning to raise an eyebrow, or an ear, or some other body part that seems to have a mind of its own and is completely separate from your mind's control. My impressions of quite a few people have changed drastically as well in the last few weeks. Once you become less dependent on the company of others, you are able to step outside the normal drama existence, and as you step outside your own ego, you are able to see people as they really are. No longer do you see people how you want to, or how you should because of a loyalty to a friend, or see them tainted with the past injuries they may have caused you.
This leads into another idea that I have been playing around with. I was watching a show on HBO called "In Treatment" and although I don't have the actual quote the story goes like this. One psychologist was analyzing another, and as the male was revealing memories of his father not being present in his life, he was astonished to find that a childhood friend recalls his memories differently, where the father was there at pivotal moments. His therapist said that his mind actually blocked out the memories of his father. Here is the belief. When you store away memories in your unconscious or the Id (according to Freud), the memories are altered by the Id as a form of self-preservation and self-gratification. Therefore, the theory goes that, as these memories are just brewing around in the back of your mind, when you attempt to retrieve one of them, other sections of your unconscious (I.e. The ego and the super-ego) alter these memories further to fit with your current outlook, perspective, or different situation in life as opposed to how you were when these memories occurred. So, in short, say you have a boyfriend, and it's really great for awhile. You do all sorts of fun things together, and then one day, he does something that is so awful. You break up, and because your memories cannot conflict with each other, your happy memories seem to fade away or you think about them and you say to yourself, “well, I guess I really wasn't that happy after all.” That sort of thing. Like the disappearing dad because his father did awful things later that made the child lose sight (literally) of who his dad really was.

Anyway, the revelation here is that although we may think we have people “down” or you meet those obnoxious people who say, “I can read people well, I can know from the minute I meet them whether they are a good person or not,” well they are all full of crap. Because the truth is, our minds are a very tricky yet delicate thing. But also, these perspectives can be controlled based on your willingness to step back, set emotions aside, and really take a good look at not only the words that these people spout, but how their actions reflect them.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty

I had this feeling today. Quite contrary to the well known, "I feel like I might die today" feeling. It's simply one of those days where it's cool, but not too chilly, where the wind is just right, and the sun warms that nape of my neck. The kind of day where I choose to walk on the grass and get strange looks because I'm not traveling on the well paved concrete. Where I talk to a random friend about how much I want to eat at R.P's and my mom calls me 2 hours later and asks me to go, but not before we stop to buy me a new desk. The kind where all your problems are figuratively and actually quite literally half a world away. These days, I can stand outside on the grass, feel the sun and wind, and as I feel fully awake I can look up and thank God that I'm alive. This is the kind of day where I feel like me, where I feel right in my own skin, and my always present anxiety blows away in the wind, if only for a minute.
I was watching One Tree Hill tonight, and I wasn't much looking forward to it, since the last show was pretty awful. However, a key phrase quoted from the Dawson character said, "Sometimes, the beauty is in the attempt." After I reveled in the mere depths of this simple statement, I entered again into this serene state of calmness. For I could finally put an answer as to why people do such awful things. The answer, well for me, is quite simple; it doesn’t matter, the answer is never relevant. We need to stop asking ourselves why this happened, why this ultimate bad ending shook my life so profoundly. This is a clear and universal statement, people do bad things. End of story. However, we cannot fixate ourselves on them. Because the frank truth is, I tried. This statement, something our parents taught us since we could breathe, is that we only need to try and they will be proud of us even if we fail. However, as adults we sometimes lose sight of that simple truth. We always want to succeed and as adults, especially Americans, if we fail, we bottle it up and let our self-conscience tell us that we're not good enough. In actuality, all we need to say to ourselves is that we did our best, and sometimes the universe just doesn't work out in our favor, and that’s okay. The greatness is, that we put forth effort, gave it our all, and just came up a little short. The beauty here, is not in the end result, as those are often fleeting and trivial, and really only add up to us wanting more, but the true beauty, is in the virtue and greatness and humility and absolute human spirit we get in touch with as we drive forward towards something we desire. We change ourselves to become better in hopes of deserving something great. But that something great is hardly ever tangible, rather it is the qualities, characteristics, morals, and virtues we as humans develop on our way to perfecting ourselves for something. That is the true beauty.
And as I sit here admiring all of the beauty around me, both outdoors and in, I am humbly reminded of the strength and blind courage that I have acquired through this fight. I was vulnerable, finally allowing myself to be so, allowing my emotions to be controlled by another. I was courageous as I attempted to find something that everyone longs for, and giving it my whole heart, full well knowing that I could never obtain anothers. And I acquired, yet again, another form of arms. I learned how to look tragedy straight in the face and take the high road because I knew that fixing myself was much more important than sticking around to try to fix other people. Because at the end of the day, I can look in the mirror, or stand silently starring up, and not feel guilty. I can feel comfortable in my own skin because I know that I have done nothing wrong, and I like who I am because of it. I am moving forward to somewhere, as I have this beautiful unscathed future in front of me and there sure as hell is no reason to look back.
This is what everyone has taught me, from my mom, grandma, dad, sister, teachers, friends, aristotle, hesse, plath, sartre, shakespeare, emerson, thoreau, and every other great influential person in my life. And as for now, I’m happily typing at my desk in my little corner of the world, knowing full well that I have the strength and elegance to stand on my own two feet and face adversity

Go oft to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path

So... I haven't written in awhile, mostly because the realm of my consciousness has not been very active outside of one particular incident thats incredibly perplexing. I have done nothing wrong, which suffices to say that I don't understand how this happened. You have a life, you go to bed and you wake up and that life doesn't exist anymore. Everyone has moved on except for you, and this is not an easy thing. You replay these images in your head a thousand times, and as every thing seemed in the right place, it never was. The key word here is seemed.
As we were reading in the Faerie Queene by Spencer in my Renaissance class, my favorite professor told us to keep an eye out for when Spencer would use the word "seemed." This usually was a enormous red flag to indicate that what the knight sensed was right was in fact, never what actually was. Poor Red Cross, he was stranded in the middle of a forest facing a forked path, had lost his companion, and he had to choose for himself which way was the right way. One path "seemed" well beaten down and worn in, and the other was what "seemed" to be a dangerous terrain. Of course he chose the easy way, and wound up in the "House of Pride" which was a house full of the physical embodiments of the seven deadly sins.
Red Cross didn't use his senses very well, and I must admit, nothing much has changed in the last 400 years. We all still choose the easier path, and on the one occasion when you actually do choose the precarious path you're stuck in a dense forest without a guide. This is life.
However, one might ask the question, Why do our senses deceive us so? Or, how? There are many theories I could dissect, however I'll just list them. (1) the truth hurts, plain and simple. We don't ever want to face the truth because we know that it's not what we want to hear, so we lie to ourselves. We make ourselves believe we sense serenity in order to delude the reality. (2) We are taught since birth to be an idealist. Our parents hammer into our brains the belief that we can do anything, we can be anything; thus, we can think anything. (3) We want to think positively because we believe that by the "power of thinking" we can control our lives, thus we can control how we see people. We want to believe in the "best possible" version of a person. (4) We have an innate need to bring out the best in someone, thus we only concentrate on the goodness of a given situation, and try to suppress the bad feelings. These delusions, no matter what the case ultimately leaves us alone, with only a mangled image of what we thought was reality. This is the point where you wake up the next day and realize that the life you were living doesn't exist anymore, because you are so tired of telling yourself a lie.
Today my friend compared his relationship to a certain somebody as though she were standing behind a plate of glass. He was suggesting that he could see the potential, but he could never really touch it. As much as this analogy made sense, I began to extend this train of thought. Everybody is surrounded by these plates of glass. We can see each other, but we never really know whats going on with them. Subtle facial expressions give us hints as to what they are thinking or feeling but there has never been the possibility for us to reach beyond the glass and touch it.
Anyway, as my friend and i sat opposite each other for a good majority of the day, we talked about everything. Yesterday, I spoke with one of my favorite oldest friends for an hour as he lifted my spirits and self-confidence up, a way only he can do. And last night, I again embraced the warmth of a below freezing garage, next to a fire surrounded by those who will stay up until 2 am just talking about the most random things. These images of common contentness among people, simply doing nothing at all but being in each others company, gave me the insight that i needed at a time like this: The upside to falling? It gives your friends a chance to catch you.