Originally Posted by
BulletsAndDoves
When we see something we find is beautiful, an event, an experience, a scene, or even a picture, we tend to want to re-live that thing again and again. But each time we do that, the experience dies and dies until it does nothing for us anymore.
How do you bravely go from one new to thing to the next w/o analyzing, useless philosophizing, and trying to make things mean something? How do you keep moving on? It seems attempting to communicate how we feel just always makes things worse. It's so tempting to do this for me, but as soon as I do this it opens up debates and 'gray doors' that I never wanted in the first place. For every suggestion and possibility that works, there's billions of them that doesn't and I never learned the difference. All I've learned how to do was idealize. I've realized that I'm a hella 6, I don't know how to make any choice or decision without telling somebody first, or talking about it after it's done. But that just causes people to judge/analyze me too much, and in turn makes me further self-conscious.
Every therapist I've ever had has laughed at me, told me 'you don't need to be here, you are fine.' But I just like talking about this shit too much, stuff I can't talk about anywhere else... and it's too interesting, even though to me it's this big and deep shit but to other people I just come across as 'cute, and amusing.' Almost like they want to break and rape me and show me what REAL pain actually is. I almost wish they would. I had a glimpse of it, but I want more.
It seems that people just want me to 'shut up and do as I say' so they'd forget all the weird, "emo" introspections I told them in my pathetic attempt to try and connect. Then when I simply follow their direct orders they are thrilled, but how do I know they're doing it because they care about me or because their own ego needs are being met. After all, I get a raging hard-on myself when other people listen to me. I suppose it doesn't matter if everybody is happy, right? I'm only happy cause they're happy, they're only happy because they now have a cute puppy to control. I have to find more connections in something external with other people or I'll get locked up by the men in white suits again. (I say that, truly, half-jokingly.)
Hmm. Subjectivity vs. Objectivity is quite interesting.
This is probably simple self-loathing of my own nature, how do I really know if people want what I don't have? It's not like they would tell me about it, I'd just over-absorb it too much.
It's like, deep inside me there's these pools of the most beautiful pure colors that are always flashing, changing, and just experiencing and living and never asking why. They each die and become reborn in milliseconds. They are very bright, pure, and showy- but they lack substance and shock. It's like I'm still a cartoon character. But even though that feels deep, it's actually just yet another layer. Whenever I feel real emotion it's nice, because then I can draw what's really inside my soul, path the illusions of my hopes.
Sam's 'Introverted Strife' blog
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