Thinking about the past hinders the truth. You either paint everything in a far too negative light or a far too positive one.
Most of the time when I think of my past, the light is red. But recently...it has been green.
Feeling terribly bored, I decided to reacquaint myself with a long lost friend. I remembered all of the stupid stuff we used to do and all of the imaginitive games we would create to help alleviate our boredom. I remembered how she accepted the strange things I would come up with, like having tea parties involving minature--possibly barbie themed--china, Girl Scout's Ole Ole's (sp?), Pepsi, and very crummy British accents.
I would smile at these memories, wishing I could do those types of things now. The solution was obvious. Hang with the person who doesn't mind your weirdness. The person who doesn't look at you like you ate some funky mushroom. The person who often encourages the bizarre ideas.
What a stupid idea that was.
Dwelling on the past blinds you to the truth. You're either too busy hating your old life to remember the good times, or you're too busy reliving the glory days to realize the reason you stopped hanging out with said person.
It doesn't feel good being used.
Everyone has one of those friends, I'm sure. The friend who showers you with compliments while slyly sliding in a request here or there. The friend who knows exactly how to spin you to get you to agree to whatever the hell they want. The friend who is real in all their fakeness.
That's why the past stays in the past. Otherwise you neglect memories and forget things that helped shape an experience.
Stupid nostalgia.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
The Tortoise and the Hare.
Although I cannot recall the entire tale, I do remember one of the key points.
Throughout the race, the hare is ahead of the tortoise--taunting him and his slow pace. The hare becomes over confident, cocky even, and eventually loses the race.
I feel like the hare.
My whole life I've been one of those people that excells. I never needed to study and the good grades just came with ease. People would praise me often and despite my self-depricating thoughts and comments, a small part of me believed them.
For years I worked hard, though not as hard as I could have. I would do whatever it took to get things done. I would stay up into the wee hours of the morning just to finish a simple assignment. Simple as in not terribly important.
I watched the people around me struggle and always wondered why the easiest concepts seemed so difficult to them. I couldn't understand how they could just leave everything to chance and abandon things with the excuse of "not feeling like doing it."
I always had that end in sight--my freedom. I longed for it--longed to know what it was like to be away from all of the silly issues that surrounded me each day. I wanted to achieve the ultimate success and was always so sure that I would reach that success. That I would taste it.
But once the time came, everything just seemed to...descend.
No longer did I feel determined, giving into the whinings of my id and claiming the title of procrastinator.
I watched with knowing eyes as everything went downhill and although it was in my power to stop it...I didn't. I didn't do a damn thing.
I watched my future burn to the ground. I felt the flames of failure eating away at me like a corrosive acid. But I did nothing.
Even now, the day after tomorrow so to speak, I just let the smoke and ash suffocate me.
I don't even try to relieve any of the pain. I just bask in it and ask the same rhetorical question over and over.
What went wrong?
PS: I probably spelled "tortoise" wrong, but fuck me. I'm not going to look it up. (And we'll see how long that screw it attitude lasts. Like the fucking perfectionist could just leave it alone...)
Throughout the race, the hare is ahead of the tortoise--taunting him and his slow pace. The hare becomes over confident, cocky even, and eventually loses the race.
I feel like the hare.
My whole life I've been one of those people that excells. I never needed to study and the good grades just came with ease. People would praise me often and despite my self-depricating thoughts and comments, a small part of me believed them.
For years I worked hard, though not as hard as I could have. I would do whatever it took to get things done. I would stay up into the wee hours of the morning just to finish a simple assignment. Simple as in not terribly important.
I watched the people around me struggle and always wondered why the easiest concepts seemed so difficult to them. I couldn't understand how they could just leave everything to chance and abandon things with the excuse of "not feeling like doing it."
I always had that end in sight--my freedom. I longed for it--longed to know what it was like to be away from all of the silly issues that surrounded me each day. I wanted to achieve the ultimate success and was always so sure that I would reach that success. That I would taste it.
But once the time came, everything just seemed to...descend.
No longer did I feel determined, giving into the whinings of my id and claiming the title of procrastinator.
I watched with knowing eyes as everything went downhill and although it was in my power to stop it...I didn't. I didn't do a damn thing.
I watched my future burn to the ground. I felt the flames of failure eating away at me like a corrosive acid. But I did nothing.
Even now, the day after tomorrow so to speak, I just let the smoke and ash suffocate me.
I don't even try to relieve any of the pain. I just bask in it and ask the same rhetorical question over and over.
What went wrong?
PS: I probably spelled "tortoise" wrong, but fuck me. I'm not going to look it up. (And we'll see how long that screw it attitude lasts. Like the fucking perfectionist could just leave it alone...)
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