Dudley Do-You Right
The transitory:
My definition of who emily is feels so incredibly nebulous at the moment; this is at once frightening and liberating. I have no idea how I would define myself, if someone were to ask me "so who are you then?" I am a vigilante freedom fighter, though I'm grappling with feelings of ineffectualness, "the system" is an unfeeling behemoth. What is becoming important to me is each solitary interaction. I will not be cold and calculated in my assistance, I will follow Anne's lead and be a real human being. And this is all so far from what I had intended to say.
Who am i? Can anyone really actually answer this question?
And does the definitive answering invite stasis?
Meditating with anne and pat and mike was so good for my head. Wssshhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhh. I've no idea why I can sit for an hour. I have a suspicion that I'm not doing it "right." I am quite certain of who I am not. This is a beginning, I suppose. Many of the relationships that I saw this weekend were a pestilence, a pestilence. I have a hard time not feeling entirely judgmental when I think and talk about this, but these observations seem crazily obvious to me. There is no point that one comes to in life when the formula has simply been solved, and the change and growth is over. Outkast still nagging at me. "so why-o why-o are we so in denial when we know we're not happy here?"
Loneliness is a sword of damocles hanging over the heads of those who stay in unhappy relationships. This is what I have come to believe. I am more and more inclined to think that the majority of people in the world don't like themselves very much, and therefore don't like to spend time by themselves very much, and therefore like to stay in [even unhealthy] relationships. There is work to be done here today and I can't hang around writing these trifles much longer! Suffice to say that, this weekend, I disagreed with Dostoevsky's Akakiavich for the very first time ever. I require a moment of unbroken silence to let the gravity of this admission register. Notes from Underground has an entirely new significance to me. The dam has broken and now I must begin to address the resulting flood plains.
Enough metaphor.
The example of anne and patrick gives me hope that I too will find truth and the ability to continually change in a relationship. So much happiness. One word that I would without doubt use to describe myself is, "lucky."
- appearance
- finances
- breath
- i've no idea.
My definition of who emily is feels so incredibly nebulous at the moment; this is at once frightening and liberating. I have no idea how I would define myself, if someone were to ask me "so who are you then?" I am a vigilante freedom fighter, though I'm grappling with feelings of ineffectualness, "the system" is an unfeeling behemoth. What is becoming important to me is each solitary interaction. I will not be cold and calculated in my assistance, I will follow Anne's lead and be a real human being. And this is all so far from what I had intended to say.
Who am i? Can anyone really actually answer this question?
And does the definitive answering invite stasis?
Meditating with anne and pat and mike was so good for my head. Wssshhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhh. I've no idea why I can sit for an hour. I have a suspicion that I'm not doing it "right." I am quite certain of who I am not. This is a beginning, I suppose. Many of the relationships that I saw this weekend were a pestilence, a pestilence. I have a hard time not feeling entirely judgmental when I think and talk about this, but these observations seem crazily obvious to me. There is no point that one comes to in life when the formula has simply been solved, and the change and growth is over. Outkast still nagging at me. "so why-o why-o are we so in denial when we know we're not happy here?"
Loneliness is a sword of damocles hanging over the heads of those who stay in unhappy relationships. This is what I have come to believe. I am more and more inclined to think that the majority of people in the world don't like themselves very much, and therefore don't like to spend time by themselves very much, and therefore like to stay in [even unhealthy] relationships. There is work to be done here today and I can't hang around writing these trifles much longer! Suffice to say that, this weekend, I disagreed with Dostoevsky's Akakiavich for the very first time ever. I require a moment of unbroken silence to let the gravity of this admission register. Notes from Underground has an entirely new significance to me. The dam has broken and now I must begin to address the resulting flood plains.
Enough metaphor.
The example of anne and patrick gives me hope that I too will find truth and the ability to continually change in a relationship. So much happiness. One word that I would without doubt use to describe myself is, "lucky."
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