No Agenda

I've had a lot of things on my mind lately. But I always feel like there's no point in writing it out or talking about it because there is no solution, or, no easy solution. And these things have been such constants in my life that I'm tired of even thinking about them. As soon as they pop up, I shoo them away into a dark corner.

Here's a list of what's been going through this crazy mind of mine:

-My mom's pathetic marriage/lack of communication skills/lack of self-worth or willpower in her marraige/emotional distance/dependence on something that is not strength/tunnel vision

-Dad's cancer and inaction has caused the cancer to spread/my strained present relationship with him/the inevitable reflections of the past abuse and what it did to me and how I cope or ignore it now

-My lack of inspiration with life in general. I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't want to be in a romantic relationship with anyone and not just because most of my family seems to fail at it. Living has lost its starry allure.

-Reading Half the Sky has opened my eyes even more to how lucky I am to be living in a relatively safe society...and it's confirmed to me how disgusting most men are after reading these gut-wrenching stories. I know there are plenty of good men out there and they have a lot to offer, but in developing countries, the majority of them sound like ruthless bastards with no respect for human life or value for the individual. It's all about having control, being physically stronger, and not letting anything lessen that image of dominance. It's the true biological definition of the male and further confirms to me that I will never be in a relationship. Even the good, non-violent guys are still outspoken, controlling, and always right. And it further confirms to me that there is no God. No god would have made men and women so physically unequal and so chemically different. Everyone should read this book, regardless of your beliefs, because these stories are true and everyone should be aware of the terrible hardships these women endure just by being women in these twisted cultures and poor economic states.

-This may make you laugh after reading what I just wrote above, but I've found that working in a predominately female work environment is kind of making me hate women too. Or maybe it's just American middle-to-upper-class women I can't stand. I hate how these women have to say every thought that passes through their minds, that every other sentence is a complaint or about a diet, or chocolate, or clothes, shoes, or jewelry, and it NEVER stops. And in all those voices that women put on--that is something I have NEVER understood--the voices are ugly and irritating!! All this, never-ending  for an 8 hour period. God, who gives a damn, right? It makes me miss the silent, competent men who can work through problems without making a fuss, who don't have to spill out their whole life story after knowing someone five minutes. Where's the self-possession, the logic, the perspective about what's important in life. I love details, just not details to anything related to any of those things listed above. I always end up with a headache after listening to their prattle (very womanly to have a headache, I know, hahaha).

-Am I focusing on the negative things of life? I have no idea of what you're talking about! Yes, yes, I do feel random scatterings of joy. They skip across my mind in unexpected waves and sweep me up and away into cold air and sunlight and I remember how good life can be. I've just lost focus on those good things while drifting in my ambition-less current (oxymoron?) and while I watch all my family members drift in their own personal whirlpools without ever trying to get out. And I watch them in wonder, thinking what crappy examples have been set before me my whole life in this effed up family of mine. But I can't place blame on them for my own choices...or lack of choosing. I have a strange tendency towards apathy, inaction, lack of responsibility, because, it's never been up to me, right? That's always been my mindset somehow, and it's screwed up and I need to get some effing counseling. Not that all my family is screwed up, but I look at some of my sisters and how well they've done in most aspects of their life, but when it comes to relationships, nearly all of us are...difficult, difficult to communicate with because we have screwed up reactions and super-sensitive self-defense alarms that are tripped at the drop of a pin...and we had crappy examples in our parents, the dominant, idiotic abuser and the contradictory abused woman with a genius-level of intelligence. Gawd.

-I can worship, pour over and absorb every beautiful thing in life, the arts, literature, music, the natural world,  memorize and experience again and again and never tire of it and yet I cannot, CANNOT give any of it back. It gets locked away in a blank mass in my brain that can't create even a remote echo of all I see and how beauty uplifts and soars through my spirit like a healing wind. That's where I came up with the metaphor of a black hole, taking in everything and giving back nothing. A pretty terrifying image of self-perception. I don't refer to it in my mind anymore, but I remember how that felt, back in the dark days. But what does that make these days now? Gray days, with splashes of bright blue like the glow of h...Yeah, something like that.

-I've been trying to type fast without thinking too hard or letting myself struggle over a word or two. I should do this more often. It gets a little of the frustration out so I can now go focus on studying for the midterm tomorrow and what else I need to get done . And maybe I'll watch a lecture on Egypt tonight--These Learning Company courses make me feel like I'm back studying Humanities again. It's a lot of fun. I miss it.

-P.S. Mom and Bill went to bed at 7pm tonight, in separate bedrooms of course, as has been the arrangement for over a year. Bleh. Let's get the ball rolling. Admit to being unhappy, get some marriage counseling, make an effing decision and do what we all already know is going to happen. A divorce. At least you two can say you tried...at the very end. Sell the house, downsize all the crap that's been accumulated and never looked at more than twice. I could probably go on and on about this, but since I live with this happening, I'm tired of thinking or talking about it with all the sisters, and..

-Mom thinks my obsession with music is ridiculous, after I teased her about checking out for solar flares every day and looking for disasters happening in the world, as there are always bound to be, that somehow confirm to her that the world is plummeting towards a hellish end...and then Christ will come, right??????????? Ugh. I think it's screwed up how she obsesses over this. But doesn't really prepare for an actual disaster that could happen here.

-I think I need to go cuddle the cat or smash something into the wall. Or go run while listening to some killer music. But it's dark outside now. Music is everything. In Tolkien's The Silmarillion, he says the gods created the world through music, harmonious, powerful music that brought life into being. That struck me so deeply and has stuck with me ever since, because music is something I can't describe or explain why it makes me feel the way I do, but it feels inherent, necessary, like a gasp of fresh air after drowning in the sordid depths of every day humanity.

-If you get me typing this fast without any plan or agenda, you get to see how my mind wanders quite a bit. And this is how it always is with me, skipping from the blank unhappiness of a gray, still sea to a whisper, a glimpse of transcendence. Thanks for the help, Pandora. Way to make my blood burn and sing.