NOT ACT III

I haven't been happy in a very long time.

By happy, I mean completely satisfied in every area of my life. There are plenty of points in my life that I've been happy and having a great time in the moment, but looking back it was only because I was able to distract myself enough with something I enjoy that I forgot about all the stupid disappointing shit that I've done and mistakes that I've made in the past.

They say "don't dwell on the past" but I call bullshit on that. I'm a perfectionist to the point where I wouldn't turn in homework assignments in high school if I didn't have every single problem done perfectly, thereby losing all the points for the ones that I did complete. It took me a while to realize how stupid that was, but realizing that only affected my actions; I still feel awful if I turn in work that is incomplete or sub-par by my standards, and sometimes I still don't. To me, my mistakes in the past are all assignments that I turned in to the gradebook of life in some imperfect state, most of them being absolutely horrendous work on my part. See, in another paper, I would rewrite this entire paragraph at this point, because I really am not a fan of the flow of it, but I'm not going to in order to make a point. I'd probably also try to find another word for "point" there, because in my writing program both "points" in that sentence land at the end of a line right on top of each other, and since parallelism wasn't intended, I have the urge to change one to make it look better. See how nitpicky I am? It's unbearable.

I started down the path of several points I wanted to make in this, and still haven't made a single one.

I wrote this without rereading "The Productivity of Limbo" because I didn't want it to be perfect. In fact, I wanted it to be not perfect. That was also not the reason at all. I didn't reread it first because I thought I remembered what I wrote, and because I was too damn lazy to check. I only just realized that I barely remembered any of it, and that this is already gotten to 367 words without even covering what "Act III" is, so I guess it'll have to wait until next time.

The Productivity of Limbo

I'm bored. This is one of those times between classes where it's barely too much time to be able to go back to the dorm and hang out without having to leave for class 15 minutes later. I usually decide whether or not to do so based on a combination of what I want to do at the dorm in those 15 minutes, what I know I would end up doing there, and whether or not I'm OK with being late to my next class because 15 minutes just isn't enough time to complete anything for me. Also, if I don't decide to go back before the class ends, it's too late to decide, and I better go find myself a nice place to sit. These limbo times are spent almost entirely on my Nexus 7, because even if you're intently swiping back and forth between your home screens with absolutely no aim, you still look like your being productive.

I put on an act in public, just like everyone else. I almost put "I tend to" there instead, but I realized that wasn't right, I always do. When I say "in public" I mean "around anyone I don't consider to know personally". This act is one of utter apathy and complete self absorption, which is funny because that is the absolute opposite of who I really am, and I don't know why I do it but I can't seem to stop.

Act 2 of myself is the one I use around acquaintances and some friends, and it's the happy one, the one that makes people laugh and seems content with every damn thing in the world. This one I do on purpose, and will continue to do, because why make people feel bad about my problems? They've probably got their own shit to deal with, and to hide, and even if they don't, happiness is better.

That would have been where someone else might have used " life is too short to x so y" but I just spent an extra 3 minutes avoiding it because life isn't short at all for most people, and even if I knew I was destined to live for a thousand years, no amount of life would be long enough to justify making one person less happy.

There's an Act 3 too, and probably an Act 4, but they'll have to wait for next time, because my ADD meds are wearing off, and now I'm bored of this.

600 Seconds

What frequently happens when I listen to people is that every single thing that they have to say carries an incredible importance in my head for a period of around 10 minutes, at which point I pretty consistently couldn't even repeat what they told me. Such is life with a memory as bad as mine, but what makes me what people call a “good listener” is that ten minutes of complete empathetic concentration that I put forth in order to fully understand and appreciate the things that people choose to share.

When I choose to say things in a room full of people who, frankly, I still barely even know, I say them as if every single person is doing that exact same thing to what I say. Dissecting the words, finding the secrets hidden in the contexts, fully comprehending exactly how I feel about a situation. This is part of the reason that I speak so infrequently, because I feel like every word needs to be perfect.

Oddly enough, when I write things such as this blog post, I do nearly the exact opposite. I let the thoughts flow without bound, because I feel that this is the most legitimate and unforced way of expressing whatever point I am trying to express. This probably is also due to the fact that in a blog or paper setting, nobody is going to look at me like I’m being absolutely ridiculous as I write it, so there isn’t the fear of immediate judgement that I always seem to have in front of a live audience.

This was supposed to be about something that someone said that stuck, but as I mentioned initially, nothing ever sticks past ten minutes with me that others say. For those ten minutes, it is my life’s goal to appreciate it, and then it’s gone like Tuesday with the wind. Things that I say myself, however, do stick with me, and the one thing that I can’t stop thinking about saying was the thing that “nobody knows about you” from a few classes ago. People put funny hobbies, or crazy adventures, but I put “Lack of self-satisfaction”, and that was moving for me to say because to say it, I had to figure out how I understood it, and it made me realize that I’ve never told anyone at all about it before. That included myself.

It isn't every day that you actually get to tell yourself something that you didn't know, and when those times come, you have to give yourself that ten minutes to figure out why. Next time you’re asked for something that nobody knows about you, include yourself in that criteria, because sometimes the mask that you use to lie to everyone else is seen too often in the mirror, to the point where you believe it too.