Children Of Nova - The Complexity Of Light (2009)
I don’t put things on repeat. This is on repeat.
I’ve posted and reposted that first blog about five times. Different Tumblr blogs, Blogspots, Wordpress, the like; none of them have survived more than a couple days of upkeep. I get winds of excitement about the potential of the post that follows that existential little essay, but they all fall short of my expectations, and ultimately never get published. It haunts me (if only for a moment) every time I answer “Do you wish to save your changes?” with that definitive “No.”
I blame it primarily on the idea that my writing should have gotten substantially better over the three years it’s been since hammering that one out, but yet I still insist on ending phrases with prepositions, and other grammatical particulars that I used to stress endlessly. As more time passes, I just expect myself to exhume profound proverbs and exponentially improve upon the ideas I had as an 18-year-old who hadn’t yet even seen a college classroom. My 21-year-old self knows a HELL of a lot more than my recently diploma-laden counterpart, so why can’t I school myself over an objectively tangible medium?
Comparing then to now, my writing’s gotten worse with less flow (despite the countless amount of papers I’ve written over this course of time), I have way less money than I did, fewer friends with whom I can confide real information, and bigger goals in spite of the widening gap between them and me. Nevertheless I feel more privileged than I did then, as though nothing has gone awry in that amount of time — why is that?
The questions with which I’ve ended the past two paragraphs are neither rhetorical nor open for debate. The only answers lie in time, experience, education — all of the things I touched upon in”Progression.” When it comes down to it, I know far less than I did when I was 18. In terms of sheer quantity I understand more, but in terms of percentage of things I know relative to things to know, I haven’t even a grasp anymore. I’ll admit I’m afraid of how little I’ll know tomorrow, too. In the most optimistic way, of course.
Of one thing I am most certain — I cannot simply take what I wrote three years ago, pepper some life and experience over it, and expect a new dish to tease the palate. I’m not going to refeed myself (and my readers) a plate that’s been sitting out for so long. None of us deserve that. Instead, we’ll attack this the way I’ve always meant to do so, and that includes abandoning my longing for continuity. Life is continuous; not necessarily the observers abound.
Consider that disservice discontinued.
Borrowed from my original blog, originally published August 16, 2009:
I am awful with summing up what I want to write into a title, so I will apologize in advance for the headings you will witness now and in the future.
As I open a new blog entry, I find myself wanting to write everything out for everyone to see, but would like to hide all those personal details between the lines in my writing. I want you to read a lot of metaphors and anecdotes and not even remotely sense that you know me better, despite the seed that has been subliminally planted. I want you to have seen a ghost in literary form.
Unfortunately, at this particular stage of my life, I am unable to perform this task. While I can feel exactly what it is i would like to convey, I feel as though I lack the substance and wisdom to back up the said task. The very best I can do now is write the very words to be found immediately under these.
As of right now (12:01 AM on August 17, 2009), I believe everything happens for a reason. Despite my extremely limited religious standpoint (to be addressed next), I find myself to be quite spiritual in that I do not see our actions and relationships to be all for naught. I believe the meeting of every single person is to impact one’s life forever, but that reason can only be correctly determined in hindsight. I believe it is important to realize this, but not to approach relationships with the intent of ending them for the sake of concluding significance, for that is blunt social ignorance. Predicting why a given person is in one’s life is natural to our human instinct, but only time will tell why these interactions have befallen us.
Spirituality has everything to do with the aforementioned claims, but religion has no sway on any of it. Faith is only faith when it is all one has left. One, at the very least, must be within sight of rock-bottom in order to proclaim a faith. I have not yet beheld what is like to face any sort of spiritually moving event, so I have no faith, and I could not be happier. As a recently newly-dubbed adult at eighteen years of age, I do not feel like I should know what is in control. I believe humans have barely scratched the surface of any higher power’s abilities as such, so it is hypocritical to claim a faith as such low beings. I do not believe I need to follow any sort of man-made rules to be at one with myself. A predetermined time and place is unbelievably unnecessary, let alone all the political nonsense intwined into the “unbiased words of God.” To Hell with your faith when it is convenient. To me, praying is marketed alone time; I can achieve self-assessment at any point of any day. At the end of everything, you are all that you have, and I believe one must embrace that fact.
That last sentence leads me to a very interesting concept as of late: love. In my mere eighteen years of existence, I have only seen love fail. Any sort of successful love is ongoing and will end one way or another. Setting familial love aside, I am extremely skeptical of what it means to love someone. I believe love is synonymous with faith in that one cannot know what true love is at any living point, but an effort can certainly be made. I have found myself recently giving myself to certain people unlike I ever have, and to be quite discreet, it was all a lesson in hindsight. Everything I have felt has been real, but the lesson is that some paths are meant to cross while others are meant to merge. It is my experiences and those of my closest friends and family that lead me to believe that there are many, many more crossroads than widenings. We have all driven on populated four-lane highways for miles until they became quiet two-lane roads. The important thing is not to expect the lanes and speed of traffic to last forever, but to enjoy the ride and embrace the towns through which we pass, because our roads will end at some point.
I find that to exist is to lust, to lust is to err, to err is to learn, and to learn is to progress. The purpose we, humans, have relationships is to continuously filter what it is which appeals to our deepest of beings. Change is a natural process (that comes with progression — see first sentence of paragraph), and if a significant other asks you to change for them, it is only a burden to the conscience and soul. Manual change is destined for failure, whether it be visual or inner despair. My very tried and true opinion regarding the changing of oneself for another is this: DO NOT. You are beautiful and sculpted exactly how you should be and you should never change your life’s plan for any reason, despite a superficial, yet unattainable, lust for security, friendship, or whatever it is that you picture in the best-case scenario. When the relationship has reached the point of change oneself or conclude the endeavor, your mental picture of the best-case scenario has become lust, not love. Everything you want your relationship to be is based on what it was before change was necessary; therefore, it cannot happen — not including the way you want it to feel, anyway.
Personally I am anticipating relationship(s), and expect almost all of which to fail in the end, because that is what relationships do. The women with whom I am in these relationships, however, will not feel as though we have failed, because I will give myself to them and expect nothing in return. I will appreciate the shared feelings and memories to be made, but expecting it is not in my nature. I will never enter a relationship with the intent to watch it demise, as I am always writing a love story with a fairy tale ending in my head. Regardless, we will both embark on a new chapter of self-discovery and the relationship will not be described as wasting time for a moment. We will make mistakes and learn, just like anything else in life, then take the important characteristics from our relationship and apply them to future ones, thus creating an extreme positive from a technically “failed” relationship. We will let bygones be bygones and be stronger people and lovers from it all, if not taking it all the way to the grave.
I feel as though I have been quite blunt and to-the-point throughout this essay, but depth will come with experience, I am sure. As more brain capacity is made available and maturity teaches me better words to describe these thoughts, you will hear more from me.