We feel miserable, we feel emotional so that we might also feel compassion and understanding.   ¶ 05:04

 
もし 私が 雨だつたなら
If I were the rain

それが永遠に交わる ことのない 空と大地を つなぎとめるように
that binds together the earth and the sky, who in all eternity will never mingle

誰かの心を つなぎ留めることが できただろうか
Would I be able to bind the hearts of people together?


The papers in the bathroom stalls talk about homesickness. Everyone misses home eventually: a place where they can feel completely comfortable. I thought, well, don't be homesick. After you leave, things change forever; when you go back everything is completely different. And that's just sad. Everything in your home town is filled with shadows of your many memories. Your home is filled with all kinds of strong feelings that will never find a way to leave. Maybe they will die when we move out. Before you come back home for the first time, all these memories still live inside you, strong and bounding. But change stomps them down. What if every day of life was like those few days that change everything? What if you weren't just wasting away, waiting for another day to come along where you're truly alive? These days keep you going, breathe life back into you. But there's a hole, and the life slowly seeps out. Maybe it's too much change, too much chaos for the human mind to handle.

I haven't played the piano in quite a while. I think I might start doing that again. It seems I don't have enough time to even write, let alone practice. But it's really just that the time is wasted sitting around. I don't understand it. Why can't I just get out of this 3-year slump? It's like...it's like I know exactly how I want to be. I know exactly what it is I have to do. I know everything, but some invisible force is holding me back. Play the piano on a regular basis. Do your homework before the night before. Read more books. Start knitting again. Exercise. Eat better. Watch less TV. Start writing on a regular basis again. Interact with more people. Do things that make you a little bit uncomfortable. Stick up for yourself.

I'm feeling...what was it you said?? "Poetic" right now. Something about "poetic" something or other. A fancy name for a rather common meaning. I'd just...like to understand. All I can do is compare myself to other people and I never measure up. Even when I think I'm the better person, I end up with less. Stop stop stop. That's obvious.   ¶ 04:52

  The brighter the light, the darker the shadow
Maybe if I just keep talking and talking I'll eventually get to something that is significant. Has a point. All that jazz.

After making a phone post to my livejournal, which I will never publicly post (mainly because no one in their right mind would listen to it), I've come upon two things that might possibly be worth mentioning.


"I say that life would be so much easier if I just didn't need someone else so much, all of the time. But the truth is I really don't know. The truth is, I think I'm just running from that; that's my reason for being miserable right now. That's just the one concrete thing that I throw everything on because I don't want to think about the fact that I'm not satisfied with myself."

Problems are just so much easier when you can blame them all on something you don't understand. Because when you're not ready to change, to fix those things, you just want to pass it off as crazy. But it's not crazy. And if you were honest with yourself, you could understand it so easily. Actually. I think you already do.


"The problem with learning from the mistakes of others is you're so cautious that you don't get to make some of your own. You don't get to appreciate what you got, what you learned, what you truly experienced; that tacit knowledge of what it means to make a huge mistake. You don't get to live because you're so busy preventing all those mistakes; the funny thing is you know that no matter how many mistakes you avoid, there's just a whole mountain more of mistakes that you can't avoid. That's what learning is, right? At least, that's the learning that sticks with you."

It's pointless to be so cautious, isn't it? It's just silly. There's nothing exciting in life if there's no conflict. There's no great work of art. And if there's one thing I'd like to do with my life, I'd like to make it a work of art. Something I can approve of for once; with all its little quirks, something to be at peace with.   ¶ 02:10