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Saturday, December 10, 2011

Laying Here

It's weird when you just aren't tired. I stayed up super late, even had a few drinks, and was overly worried about someone. You'd think I'd be passed out- but I almost feel like sleeping is out of the question.

At times I feel like the only person that can really understand me- is me. We tell people how they "get us", or understand us. In the end, however, our minds belong to us and we are our own psychologists. A friend once said to me, "how many times can we unload our issues onto everyone else until they stop being our friends and become our psychologists". There's a thin line between being there for someone and being their guidance counselor. But in the end, where would be without them either? We just continue with our pats on the back and words of encouragement and hope to make a difference. Fortunately most of the time, we do.

We all want to be wanted and needed by others, sometimes to a point where we open our mouths to say something smart, or witty, or sarcastic in order to gain some sort of respect we just sound like an idiot. I sound like an idiot a lot. Not that I try to of course. My mind moves probably 3 times faster than my mouth can speak and form words. I'm always "spacing out" or messing up what I'm saying in a conversation. I'll be saying something while already formulating my next point of discussion. Sometimes it's aggravating to me, and sometimes to other people it'll seem like I'm entirely disinterested because when I'm trying to formulate everything I don't speak at all. This post itself is a good example of how my mind skips around. I came into this thinking about love- but everyone knows I'm all about love. I could talk about it for hours. When I started typing, this information is what started to come out.

I really miss writing. It used to be something I couldn't stop doing. I feel like I'm better understood through what I write as well. I know I have a lot to offer but come across dumb sometimes, or immature. There's something that clicks on with me at the workplace that most other people don't see that brings out this more mature side. When I received every internship and job I ever applied for I downplayed everything and called myself lucky. I let the people around me talk about how far they'd go and what they will do in the world and the amounts of talent they possess. They no doubt have it, and I can attest to that as well- for I've seen the drives of others and I know, especially those I'm close friends with, will go extremely far. However, I can not ignore my own talents either. I have an innate drive I don't share with many, ideas that could fill a book, and a work ethic that has landed me every job. So, I don't really consider myself "lucky" in the sense that it was a gambler's throw and I landed a spot. I do think I was lucky because I was given an opportunity to better my present self.

It's funny to think sometimes that when I was in high school, posting poetry online, I'd have adults commenting on them telling me I was "wise beyond my age". But really, I was throwing words together that formed inside my head. Don't get me wrong, I felt every last word like the syntax had a musical rhythm flowing out of my hands. But somehow the words just made sense to put down together on paper. The most interesting thing with poetry is when other people critique it, since we live in an unrelenting critiqing world and it's impossible to escape the skeptical glares of another. People can make their assumptions on what or who the subject matter is, and I love when people try, but only I know in the end. It's kind of like when someone sees you react a certain way to a compliment or a put down and they then assume you'll act that way every time. Poetry written by a singular person is bound to have skeptics looking for patterns and symbols. Sometimes when I wrote, I didn't think about anything at all- I just let my hand write. Sometimes I actually think that the poems where I put my own mind to it, didn't come out as good as I wanted them to.

Poetry and music are almost synonymous to me. They both have this way of flowing through me and creating images and ideas. Sometimes I don't even need the lyrics. I just need a rhythm or beat and I can literally feel it coursing through me. Every kick hitting the beat in my heart creating this overwhelming feeling. I don't even need to elaborate more because I can't fully explain it, because the one thing people have a hard time understanding is how someone else is feeling. As empathetic as you might be, as I used to be, you cannot feel exactly what someone else feels. You can certainly try, and definitely get close, but everyone feels things in their own way. So to be capable of duplicating that feeling would be like saying you have the same fingerprint.

I just had another topic jump into my head. It's similar to what I was talking about with the empathy, but it takes a different turn. I think that we never really stop learning about ourselves. We will continue to learn about ourselves until we die. Now take that, and square it. Now you have a friend, or lover, or family member who you are also learning about. You're learning who they are, what makes them tick, what they love, hate, admire, aspire to do. Through all of this not only do we learn about the other individual but it boosts our understanding of ourselves. We learn about ourselves through others. Not that we selfishly use others to learn about ourselves, but that in understanding another we come to understand ourselves. It's mutually beneficial. I think that's why I've always felt that I needed to be with someone who is almost completely opposite of me. Not only do I get the thrill and chance to unravel who they are for the rest of my life, but as I do I learn more and more about who I am. This bringing the two of us even closer together.

I guess my body wants to go back to sleep. But I'm glad I got all of this down before I forgot it.

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