I don't know whether I stopped writing here because I had nothing left to say or if I thought blogs should be a bit less exclusive, a bit less narcissistic. You know, maybe I should write about vegan recipes or books or music or celebrities. Vegan food sucks, though, etc.
The last few month have been pretty surreal--a hodgepodge of hellos and goodbyes and various sentiments or lack thereof and all without balance. Extremity; that which I thrive on. I went from being busy every day, going to school and having a productive life to graduating college, moving back home after almost 3 years and watching videos of amazing animals and babies singing and dancing on YouTube. I mean, I guess that's a bit unfair and self deprecating. Everything is so anticlimactic these days. It's like nothing can penetrate my jaded, "extreme lows" self. The language used and the seemingly sexual overtone of those last two sentences is pure coincidence, I assure you. I guess it's difficult to work hard and stay focused and do it all for by yourself and for yourself. Why can't we just help ourselves?
(Elapsed time between paragraphs: approx. 12 minutes.)
The Self:
I'm sick of self destruction being accepted as something that we "just do to ourselves." It's a direct result of our privileged lives that we are even able to treat ourselves badly and make a decision between one shitty choice or another, ultimately being decided by which one would make a more outrageous Facebook status update. It's all talk and no action and I am slowly becoming a victim of this monotony or, maybe not a victim but a perpetrator? When everything is overrated and life is a series of events that we can barely RSVP to, one must ask ones self-- is this the way I planned it? I don't like that metaphor but whatever.
The Other:
What are we supposed to do with other people? I feel like we're all delusional and want/expect/create a world that is just bearable and livable for ourselves. If you happen to fit into whatever the current climate of a certain someones world at that moment in time you manage to be lucky enough to touch down on some serious and meaningful interaction (or so they say and thank you for). But the question is simple yet important: are these interactions really meaningful? Is it love or anger or happiness or pain or is it just an attempt to interpret what those emotions would really be/feel like had the catalyst for them been something more than just someone/something to pass the time? We're stuck with certain people and certain scenarios because we don't want to live in our own world alone. We start to sacrifice. We need to distract and consequently save ourselves from the things we know we should do with our lives, friends, hearts, family, bodies, et cetera. Otherwise how would we be self destructive?
Next time: My recipe for vegan pineapple upside down pants cake.
