Living in Electric Dreams

2006-07-09 | 3:45 p.m.

Well, kids, this horrific birthday update comes rather late, but come now; I was busy!

So, apparently I'm an emotionally distant person. If we were speaking of me in the last ten months or so, then I wouldn't be surprised at all. Yes, I decided to clam up completely as far as such things are concerned because the realization came that nobody wants to hear my mindless blathering on the topic of what makes me feel good inside or what makes my heart cry or my soul bleed or whatever ludicrous emotional imagery you wish to conjure up. Moreover, at the core of it, none of it matters - emotions are one of the most transient things humans possess, and I, for one, believe myself to still be way too hormonal to be able to interpret, let alone express, in any satisfactory way.

But here's the strange part - it appears I was marked as 'guarded' for some time already, without even knowing. This, comrades, is what I find to be most absurd.

High school is a period I'm largely ashamed of; heaps upon heaps of stupid moves and ridiculous behaviors that, in the end, only have any value whatsoever because looking back upon said actions is what made me slowly alter course and become what I am now. Am I satisfied with myself? No, far from it. Yet I can't help what would have happened if I had maintained friendship with one person over another, or decided to carry through with some relationship? I do feel that the direction I chose was the best one, if only because of my pessimism, but more accurately because it was the course I undertook of my own volition. A good part of the things that define me are things I'm comfortable with; while I still maintain a great deal of self-loathing, I know it could easily be much, much worse. My one biggest regret going out of high schoolhas, for the most part, become moot, as the people I had always wished I had known in the past have, for the most part, remained in the city, and don't seem to hate me, which can only be a plus. But I digress (and rather severely, I might add).

I have been under the strong impression that my senior year provided a sort of Renaissance for Karol's emotional development; for better or for worse, I didn't internatlize as disgustingly much as I used to; I was more open with my thoughts and opinions on certain matters, and all in all felt more comfortable expressing myself. This Renaissance reached its zenith during summer break, I felt; but here is where the absurd comes in - this is exactly the period I am being condemned for; branded as 'guarded' and 'distant' for; and it's only now that people are beginning to say that I am more open. Have I missed something profoundly important? Do I not even know myself as well as I thought I did (granted, I didn't think I knew myself well at all, but that I knew some of my psyche's "tricks")? Perhaps this is a continuation of the numerous events of senior year (and beyond) that, going into college, made me realize I had absolutely no clue about anything or anyone; that my very own instincts betrayed me at every turn. A good deal of questions that must be asked.

All these questions and self-criticisms ran through my head on my very own birthday; a day I wished to celebrate humbly and without fanfare. Understand, dear reader, that I appreciate my friends and everything they do for me, but my birth is by no means any occasion to celebrate, and the very idea that people would do so is, at the very least, strange to me (and at the most, deeply disturbing). Birthdays, for me, are not times for celebration, but more for reflection. One of the first questions I ask myself is "Where am I now, and where was I last year?" The comparison, this year, bodes dismally for me; though, in retrospect, I wasn't in any particularly wonderful place at this point one year ago; I only perceived it to be so; and, if you're mad enough to have read through all of this already, my own perceptions often seem to betray me. Still, there's no denying that I've moved down in a number of ways. That's a sobering thought, but I really didn't let it "get me down" yesterday.

In all honesty, the belief that my own birthday is unimportant is really tied to my own harsh self-criticism, as I believe that the birthdays of my friends are wonderful occasions that outright require celebration. Of course, this would make me a hypocrite, but remember - unlike myself, I believe my friends have great worth. A flawed philosophy, perhaps, but one that will be hard to shake. This admission will, no doubt, weaken any case that I may have had, but I'm terrible at constructing arguments, and it's most certainly part of what I believe about birthdays. If we dig deeper, we get into problems like "I'm certain there'll be no way for me to reciprocate such actions toward people as they take toward me" and such, but I'm getting a bit tired of talking about myself; it's painful.

And so I leave you with an interesting quote I heard today:

"Nothing differentiates one person from another save two things: the types and extents of their flaws."

Thank you, and good night. Oh, and if you've read this whole damn thing, e-mail me, or leave a note, or something! You certainly deserve some prize, or compensation of some sort, for your mental fortitude in wading through this morass my mind vomited out.

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