A great classic drama.
Willy Loman, salesman extraordinaire, lives a lie. He is grandiose, histrionic, deceptive to himself and to others. He has perfected the art of appearances, of seeming to be everything he is not.
A party. He looks at her, when the lights are off and the buzzing silence is more apparent than it should be. Words, soft, cautious words spoken in low tones. Faltering voice, sideways grin, is this real?
No. Of course it isn't. How could it be? That would mean contentedness, and she's already embraced the fact that she never wants to be content. But she was ready to be, at least for one night, perhaps forever.
The symbolic heart is such a delicate figure, fragile. She fully gives hers to a rare few.
"You are a really good salesperson". She wanted to hurt him.
"I just don't think we are at a place to be anything". He hurt her.
But she is resilient. She will get over it. It's the only thing she knows how to do anymore, as the light fades into her window. Warmth. Solitude.
Long ago, yesterday; the scene is the same. She feels like, somehow, she always ends up the most hurt.
...
I apologize if this post is unclear to some readers. It is not necessarily meant to be understood.
Happy Birthday to me :)
19, but I feel just like a child! Which reminds me...
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Edges
Triangular stretches of moonlight outline the precipice, ghost spotlights as she stands at the edge, bent at the waist, white fingers tracing stray hairs, surveying the contents of the earth below.
If the world were flat she could see her path. But as it is, crags and bends and redwoods and dips and her own distorted shadow disrupt the view even from this height.
Purple darkness. She is a fly on flypaper, gravitating toward the sticky sweet poison on wet evenings, hopelessly stuck. Limbs spasm in a vain attempt to be free.
The air is deep, like his eyes. A thousand moments can be smothered in a single breath. She inhales, exhales, inhales. Control.
...
Solitude. I love solitude. The mundanes of existence are both amplified and stifled with the stillness. I see that I am not falling apart. I am simultaneously enjoying the scenery from above and contemplating the blind plunge.
I will not be swept away. Forgive me in advance for distancing myself. This is the only way I know how to handle things.
If the world were flat she could see her path. But as it is, crags and bends and redwoods and dips and her own distorted shadow disrupt the view even from this height.
Purple darkness. She is a fly on flypaper, gravitating toward the sticky sweet poison on wet evenings, hopelessly stuck. Limbs spasm in a vain attempt to be free.
The air is deep, like his eyes. A thousand moments can be smothered in a single breath. She inhales, exhales, inhales. Control.
...
Solitude. I love solitude. The mundanes of existence are both amplified and stifled with the stillness. I see that I am not falling apart. I am simultaneously enjoying the scenery from above and contemplating the blind plunge.
I will not be swept away. Forgive me in advance for distancing myself. This is the only way I know how to handle things.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Gentle
gen·tle [jen-tl]
adjective, -tler, -tlest, verb, -tled, -tling
1.kindly; amiable: a gentle manner.
2.not severe, rough, or violent; mild: a gentle wind; a gentle tap on the shoulder.
Softly, sweetly twisted in the tangle of your hands.
adjective, -tler, -tlest, verb, -tled, -tling
1.kindly; amiable: a gentle manner.
2.not severe, rough, or violent; mild: a gentle wind; a gentle tap on the shoulder.
Softly, sweetly twisted in the tangle of your hands.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Secret Creature
I would marry this man. Song I'm listening to at the moment: Say Goodbye.
"You and I rolled up into one secret creature"
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Veneer
Being an introvert sometimes has its downfalls. When I am in the company of friends, my thoughts tend to burrow deep into the folds of my brain and stay there, dormant, until I am once again alone. I've been nothing but happy for a couple of weeks. Sure, at times images of broken things flash behind my eyes but the pictures are always slightly transparent and I don't pay much attention. Today was the first day I was alone for an extended period of time. I feel refreshed, yes. But the broken parts of my life are incredibly apparent in the stillness.
My life is a veneer. This is not to say that I'm not true to myself or that I'm putting on a front. I wouldn't say that. When I'm happy, I'm truly happy; I can not fake emotions. But what is on the surface is not equal to what is below the surface. If I could articulate this phenomenon any more, I would. Unfortunately I can't find the words to describe it, so I will have to make due with stories, or more a collection of sentences that perhaps describe my brain's inner workings at the moment.
A family. Not happy, not discontent. Just a family.
Separation, never home, calling in bathrooms of restaurants and becoming defensive when I voice how much I worry about you.
A red fence, styrofoam bowls to eat cereal and plastic forks and knives. Whenever I come over, adjectives explode around me...happy, confident, stable, content. But in my head I hear whispers...melancholy, angry, stressed, worried.
Visit to the gravestone. It's habit now to blow you a kiss whenever I pass the cemetery. I sit on the grass and talk to you, knowing that you can't answer. But I do it anyway; I don't know why.
Smiling relatives in pain.
Hidden alcoholism.
Breaking hearts, intentionally. Trying to feel something that isn't there.
I'm a scared little girl, smiling when my eyes are closed.
Veneers. Chipped pieces show what is beneath.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about the feeling of hands on skin, of closeness...even thought that has nothing to do with my above words.
Those are my thoughts for tonight. I feel much more relieved now that I've written things out.
Goodnight:)
Thursday, March 10, 2011
War and Massacre
I titled this entry as such because it is the title of the philosophy text that I should be reading right now for class. But alas, I am writing this blog.
It's a relatively short one today, from my English 313 teacher. She was trying to tell us that one of our big papers is due next Tuesday, but here's what she said instead:
"For Tuesday...a week from next Tuesday (looking confused and then throwing her arms up in exasperation)...oh, whenever the hell it is!!!"
It was a hell day today :D
It's a relatively short one today, from my English 313 teacher. She was trying to tell us that one of our big papers is due next Tuesday, but here's what she said instead:
"For Tuesday...a week from next Tuesday (looking confused and then throwing her arms up in exasperation)...oh, whenever the hell it is!!!"
It was a hell day today :D
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Mortified
Yes, I know this is my third post in one night, but the other two don't count because they were re-blogged and not my own writing. Anyway, I recently bought a book titled Mortified. It's a compilation of old journal entries sent in by various people, for pure entertainment of the reader. One journal entry, however, resonated with me. It was written by an eighth grader to her "future self", and here is an excerpt:
"Are you scared of being a shadow? Is you heart not easily broken?
Are you still me?
When no one is home, do you sing your heart out till it hurts? Have you still the secret desire to dream alone?
When was the last time you defined yourself on a dreary day as a pebble furrowed in dark, hard clay?
Are you still me?
Are you who you want to be?
Just how much have we changed, myself? Are you quite sure you've grown up at all? Are you still me?"
I wonder if I am still me, sometimes. I am true to myself to a fault. But, especially now, I think I have compromised some of my morals (some of my essential self) in my search for something. And that is excessively vague, I know. :)
"Are you scared of being a shadow? Is you heart not easily broken?
Are you still me?
When no one is home, do you sing your heart out till it hurts? Have you still the secret desire to dream alone?
When was the last time you defined yourself on a dreary day as a pebble furrowed in dark, hard clay?
Are you still me?
Are you who you want to be?
Just how much have we changed, myself? Are you quite sure you've grown up at all? Are you still me?"
I wonder if I am still me, sometimes. I am true to myself to a fault. But, especially now, I think I have compromised some of my morals (some of my essential self) in my search for something. And that is excessively vague, I know. :)
Re-Blogged (again)
"INFJ
INFJs focus on possibilities, think in terms of values and come easily to decisions. The small number of this type (1 percent) is regrettable, since INFJs have unusually strong drive to contribute to the welfare of others and genuinely enjoy helping their fellow men. This type has great depth of personality; they are themselves complicated, and can understand and deal with complex issues and people.
It is an INFJ who is likely to have visions of human events past, present, or future. If a person demonstrates an ability to understand psychic phenomena better than most others, this person is apt to be an INFJ. Characteristically, INFJs have strong empathic abilities and can be aware of another’s emotions or intents even before that person is conscious of these. This can take the form of feeling the distress of illnesses of others to an extent which is difficult for other types. INFJs can intuit good and evil in others, although they seldom can tell how they came to know. Subsequent events tend to bear them out, however.
INFJs have a strong love of learning, and they tend to do well academically. Through persistence, diligence, and conscientiousness, they complete their assignments on time. They are likely to enjoy research and will go great lengths to find answers. They enjoy investigating the possibilities and meanings beyond the actual facts and realities. Reading holds a particular fascination for them because it allows them to have quiet reflection time and engages their imagination. They also like the written word (and rely on it more than the spoken word) since it is usually better structured and more coherent with a ready-made framework. INFJs write and communicate well because they want to formulate their ideas clearly. They place high regard on their reader and audience. They seek to communicate their ideals to others. When their ideals need to be championed, they speak up in an enthusiastic and impassioned way. As students, INFJs prefer learning from teachers whom they both like and admire, and who give them personal attention. INFJs are often ‘model’ students. They are quiet and orderly, reflective and thoughtful, and sincerely want to please their teachers and learn the right thing. They learn best from others but want time to assimilate material by themselves. They generally will not be visible leaders, but will quietly exert influence behind the scenes.
INFJs are hard to get to know. They have an unusually rich inner life, but they are reserved and tend not to share their reactions except with those they trust. Because of their vulnerability, INFJs can be hurt rather easily by others, which, perhaps, is at least one reason they tend to be private people. People who have known an INFJ for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that INFJs are inconsistent; they are very consistent and value integrity. But they have convoluted, complex personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.
INFJs like to please others and tend to contribute their own best efforts in all situations. They prefer and enjoy agreeing with others, and find conflict disagreeable and destructive. INFJs have vivid imaginations exercised both as memory and intuition, and this can amount to genius, resulting at times in an INFJs being seen as mystical. This unfettered imagination often will enable this person to compose complex and often aesthetic works of art such as music, mathematical systems, poems, plays, and novels. In a sense, the INFJ is the most poetic of all the types. Just as the ENTJ cannot not lead, so must an INFJ intuit; this capability extends to people, things, and often events, taking the form of visions, episodes of foreknowledge, premonitions, auditory and visual images of things to come. INFJs can have uncanny communications with certain individuals at a distance.
INFJs orient themselves toward their goals using a personal, values-based framework. They do not ‘advertise’ their values and priorities because they believe in harmony and positive relationships. However, one would do well not to underestimate the amount of perseverance, energy, and time INFJs give to their priorities. What they do, they do with an almost religious intensity. The INFJ external environment may be only partially organized. Their internal environment, by contrast, is anything but haphazard. Their ideas need to fit into a coherent whole that has the pieces in place. Organization of the internal world takes precedence over organization of external world. INFJs prefer occupations that focus on the big picture, involve conceptual awareness, and lead to a better understanding of the spiritual, emotional, or future needs of people. They want their work to have impact and meaning and for it to bring them admiration and respect. While INFJs can and do enter all occupations, some are more appealing to them than others. These include clergy, education consultant, English teacher, fine arts teacher, librarian, psychiatrist, psychologist, scientist, social worker, and other occupations that allow INFJs an opportunity to make their own creative contribution.
Leisure-time pursuits for INFJs are often solitary or involve the company of others who are particularly important to them. Sitting around with dear friends discussing feelings can be very special to INFJs. INFJs are likely to have friends of long standing rather than make many new acquaintances. They may meet with their friends fairly consistently to share what is happening in their lives. It is sometimes difficult for others to break into this circle. These deep friendships are important, even though INFJs may not share much directly about themselves.
For INFJs, ‘still waters run deep.’ They tend to become attracted to someone special and prefer this one deep relationship over many superficial ones. The depth of involvement and feeling that the INFJ has toward loved ones is only partially communicated outward. At times, when alone, INFJs become truly in touch with the depth of the love they have for their partner. They may not openly demonstrate or even verbalize their intense feelings. INFJs often have an ideal standard of what love is. They hold to their ideal and are disappointed when, inevitably, their relationship and/or mate reveals flaws. INFJs enjoy sharing activities like a regular ‘date,’ revisiting the place where they first met their mates, or doing other symbolic things that help to continue and confirm the existence of the bond that they feel for their partner. INFJs want to give love and to be loved. They enter into relationships just to be cared for, even when the person is not right for them and they suspect it. However, when they meet that special person, they are quick to get into the relationship and make it a serious one. They will end their other relationships in order to pursue their loved one. They become very focused, intense, and direct in that pursuit.
INFJs, when scorned, take it personally and retreat inward. They may obsess about the relationship and their role in its failure. One INFJ explained, ‘people can do the most outrageous things, yet I blame myself for triggering their behavior or not recognizing it. I see myself as responsible for relationships. Other people can dismiss them — I’m not able to.’ INFJs may blame themselves and experience a period of mourning. If they do not marshal their resources, externalize their feelings, and take risks to move on, they may experience a long periods of self-examination."
INFJs focus on possibilities, think in terms of values and come easily to decisions. The small number of this type (1 percent) is regrettable, since INFJs have unusually strong drive to contribute to the welfare of others and genuinely enjoy helping their fellow men. This type has great depth of personality; they are themselves complicated, and can understand and deal with complex issues and people.
It is an INFJ who is likely to have visions of human events past, present, or future. If a person demonstrates an ability to understand psychic phenomena better than most others, this person is apt to be an INFJ. Characteristically, INFJs have strong empathic abilities and can be aware of another’s emotions or intents even before that person is conscious of these. This can take the form of feeling the distress of illnesses of others to an extent which is difficult for other types. INFJs can intuit good and evil in others, although they seldom can tell how they came to know. Subsequent events tend to bear them out, however.
INFJs have a strong love of learning, and they tend to do well academically. Through persistence, diligence, and conscientiousness, they complete their assignments on time. They are likely to enjoy research and will go great lengths to find answers. They enjoy investigating the possibilities and meanings beyond the actual facts and realities. Reading holds a particular fascination for them because it allows them to have quiet reflection time and engages their imagination. They also like the written word (and rely on it more than the spoken word) since it is usually better structured and more coherent with a ready-made framework. INFJs write and communicate well because they want to formulate their ideas clearly. They place high regard on their reader and audience. They seek to communicate their ideals to others. When their ideals need to be championed, they speak up in an enthusiastic and impassioned way. As students, INFJs prefer learning from teachers whom they both like and admire, and who give them personal attention. INFJs are often ‘model’ students. They are quiet and orderly, reflective and thoughtful, and sincerely want to please their teachers and learn the right thing. They learn best from others but want time to assimilate material by themselves. They generally will not be visible leaders, but will quietly exert influence behind the scenes.
INFJs are hard to get to know. They have an unusually rich inner life, but they are reserved and tend not to share their reactions except with those they trust. Because of their vulnerability, INFJs can be hurt rather easily by others, which, perhaps, is at least one reason they tend to be private people. People who have known an INFJ for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that INFJs are inconsistent; they are very consistent and value integrity. But they have convoluted, complex personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.
INFJs like to please others and tend to contribute their own best efforts in all situations. They prefer and enjoy agreeing with others, and find conflict disagreeable and destructive. INFJs have vivid imaginations exercised both as memory and intuition, and this can amount to genius, resulting at times in an INFJs being seen as mystical. This unfettered imagination often will enable this person to compose complex and often aesthetic works of art such as music, mathematical systems, poems, plays, and novels. In a sense, the INFJ is the most poetic of all the types. Just as the ENTJ cannot not lead, so must an INFJ intuit; this capability extends to people, things, and often events, taking the form of visions, episodes of foreknowledge, premonitions, auditory and visual images of things to come. INFJs can have uncanny communications with certain individuals at a distance.
INFJs orient themselves toward their goals using a personal, values-based framework. They do not ‘advertise’ their values and priorities because they believe in harmony and positive relationships. However, one would do well not to underestimate the amount of perseverance, energy, and time INFJs give to their priorities. What they do, they do with an almost religious intensity. The INFJ external environment may be only partially organized. Their internal environment, by contrast, is anything but haphazard. Their ideas need to fit into a coherent whole that has the pieces in place. Organization of the internal world takes precedence over organization of external world. INFJs prefer occupations that focus on the big picture, involve conceptual awareness, and lead to a better understanding of the spiritual, emotional, or future needs of people. They want their work to have impact and meaning and for it to bring them admiration and respect. While INFJs can and do enter all occupations, some are more appealing to them than others. These include clergy, education consultant, English teacher, fine arts teacher, librarian, psychiatrist, psychologist, scientist, social worker, and other occupations that allow INFJs an opportunity to make their own creative contribution.
Leisure-time pursuits for INFJs are often solitary or involve the company of others who are particularly important to them. Sitting around with dear friends discussing feelings can be very special to INFJs. INFJs are likely to have friends of long standing rather than make many new acquaintances. They may meet with their friends fairly consistently to share what is happening in their lives. It is sometimes difficult for others to break into this circle. These deep friendships are important, even though INFJs may not share much directly about themselves.
For INFJs, ‘still waters run deep.’ They tend to become attracted to someone special and prefer this one deep relationship over many superficial ones. The depth of involvement and feeling that the INFJ has toward loved ones is only partially communicated outward. At times, when alone, INFJs become truly in touch with the depth of the love they have for their partner. They may not openly demonstrate or even verbalize their intense feelings. INFJs often have an ideal standard of what love is. They hold to their ideal and are disappointed when, inevitably, their relationship and/or mate reveals flaws. INFJs enjoy sharing activities like a regular ‘date,’ revisiting the place where they first met their mates, or doing other symbolic things that help to continue and confirm the existence of the bond that they feel for their partner. INFJs want to give love and to be loved. They enter into relationships just to be cared for, even when the person is not right for them and they suspect it. However, when they meet that special person, they are quick to get into the relationship and make it a serious one. They will end their other relationships in order to pursue their loved one. They become very focused, intense, and direct in that pursuit.
INFJs, when scorned, take it personally and retreat inward. They may obsess about the relationship and their role in its failure. One INFJ explained, ‘people can do the most outrageous things, yet I blame myself for triggering their behavior or not recognizing it. I see myself as responsible for relationships. Other people can dismiss them — I’m not able to.’ INFJs may blame themselves and experience a period of mourning. If they do not marshal their resources, externalize their feelings, and take risks to move on, they may experience a long periods of self-examination."
Re-Blogged
"Being an Introvert
All my life, I’ve struggled with the fact that I am an introvert. Wait…that’s not entirely true. I’m an extreme introvert – possibly the most extreme you’ll ever meet. And I’ve realized that I haven’t struggled with being an introvert as much as I’ve struggled with the world’s definition of an introvert. I was always taught that being an introvert is a bad thing. How could I possibly be happy unless I was an extrovert like the majority of the world? For most of my life, the introverted part of my personality was the thing I wanted most to change about myself. I felt like it isolated me, it made me different, and I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to fit in.
Over the last few years, I’ve started to understand what being an introvert is really all about. In the last few months, it’s something that I’ve not only understood, but something I’ve accepted – proudly. I love being an introvert. Yes, there are still times when I wonder what it would be like to be an extrovert, but the main thing that I’ve learned over the last few months is that the world misinterprets introverts, probably more than any other personality trait.
Most people lump the word ‘introvert’ in the same category as ‘shy’, ‘reserved’, ‘withdrawn’, ‘quiet’, and ‘antisocial’. None of those words have anything to do with being an introvert. Over the course of my life, I have known many introverts. For each of those words that the world considers synonymous with ‘introvert’, I can think of an introvert in my life that does not even remotely display that characteristic.
Shyness is ultimately based in fear. That is not to say that shyness is a bad thing. Shyness can be beautiful, especially in today’s world of ‘tell all’, attention grabbing, spotlight mentalities. But it is rooted in fear. Fear is not always bad. We steer away from danger because of the fear of what may happen. The little hairs that stand up on the back of our necks are triggered by fear. It can be a healthy thing. But it has nothing to do with being an introvert. Personally, I am also shy. Growing up, that was also labeled as a negative thing. Double whammy for me – though being shy and being an introvert were essentially the same thing.
Reservation is an act of caution. It can be rooted in fear as a defense mechanism, but it is most often being cautious about who we share information with. It’s about trust. Can I trust you with the information I share? As with anything, it can be taken to an extreme, making it unhealthy, but I personally see being reserved as a strength. The definition of ‘reserved’ is restrained in words and actions or not excessive or extravagant. I think it’s good to be restrained or to not be excessive or extravagant.
Introverts are not withdrawn. Most of us truly enjoy being around people. If I’ve had enough downtime to recharge, I would rather be around people – especially people I care about. I grew up in dance and theater. Most performers fall into one of two categories. They are either natural ‘hams’ who are always performing and entertaining no matter what they are doing. Or they are introverts who can flip a switch when they are ‘on stage’. I fall into the latter category. I am a great example of an introverted performer. I grew up on stage, and I spent years in front of classes, teaching dance. As hard as it is to believe for most people who know me, I don’t mind speaking in front of people when I’m talking about something I care about.
Introversion is a personality trait. It is a preference relating to how we focus our thoughts, and how we gain energy. Introverts are inwardly focused. We like to think and explore our own thoughts and feelings. Usually, being around people interferes with our desire to be introspective. Of course, that doesn’t mean that we don’t like conversation. We just tend to enjoy deeper conversations about thoughts and ideas instead of small talk. From a personal standpoint, I hate small talk. It bores me. I want to hear about your life, and I want to exchange ideas and connect on a deeper level.
Introverts like to reflect on new information – analyze it, process it – and only make decisions after some time. We very rarely like to tell you what we think if put on the spot unless it’s a topic that we’ve already analyzed, but we are capable of carrying on a conversation about almost anything. We just may not enjoy that conversation very much, and it will drain us of energy.
Introverts gain their energy from being alone. That is how we recharge. It doesn’t mean that we don’t like being around people. We are not ‘antisocial’. I love being around people. If it is someone I care about and enjoy being with, I can be invigorated by the exchange of thoughts, ideas, and emotions. It is the larger settings that drain us – not because we don’t enjoy them, but because they use our energy. I heard an analogy once about the difference between introverts and extroverts. Introverts are like a rechargeable battery. They need to stop expending energy and rest in order to recharge. Extroverts, on the other hand, are like solar panels. For them, being alone is like being under a heavy cloud cover. Solar panels need the sun to recharge, in the same way that extroverts need to be out and about, interacting with lots of people, to refuel. Introverts need time to restore their energy, and it flows out faster than an extrovert’s energy. In order to function to the best of their ability, they need to calculate how much energy something will take, how much they need to conserve, and plan accordingly. Speaking in front of a group of people will knock me out, and a one on one conversation can invigorate and challenge me, but I have to balance both of those with some alone time to recharge.
I love being an introvert. I love that I think before I speak. I love that I think before I act. I love to listen to other people without always having to add my voice to the conversation. I love that I share with a small group of trusted people. I love that being an introvert allows me to see the world from a different perspective than the majority of the population. It fits the rest of my ‘minority’ personality traits. It ties me together. It’s who I am, and there is nothing wrong with it. It is not a social disease. It is not something that should be changed. It is my preference, and I’m finally ok with that."
http://findinggeri.wordpress.com/2011/02/20/being-an-introvert/
Beautiful. This describes me so perfectly I almost had difficulty reading it.
All my life, I’ve struggled with the fact that I am an introvert. Wait…that’s not entirely true. I’m an extreme introvert – possibly the most extreme you’ll ever meet. And I’ve realized that I haven’t struggled with being an introvert as much as I’ve struggled with the world’s definition of an introvert. I was always taught that being an introvert is a bad thing. How could I possibly be happy unless I was an extrovert like the majority of the world? For most of my life, the introverted part of my personality was the thing I wanted most to change about myself. I felt like it isolated me, it made me different, and I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to fit in.
Over the last few years, I’ve started to understand what being an introvert is really all about. In the last few months, it’s something that I’ve not only understood, but something I’ve accepted – proudly. I love being an introvert. Yes, there are still times when I wonder what it would be like to be an extrovert, but the main thing that I’ve learned over the last few months is that the world misinterprets introverts, probably more than any other personality trait.
Most people lump the word ‘introvert’ in the same category as ‘shy’, ‘reserved’, ‘withdrawn’, ‘quiet’, and ‘antisocial’. None of those words have anything to do with being an introvert. Over the course of my life, I have known many introverts. For each of those words that the world considers synonymous with ‘introvert’, I can think of an introvert in my life that does not even remotely display that characteristic.
Shyness is ultimately based in fear. That is not to say that shyness is a bad thing. Shyness can be beautiful, especially in today’s world of ‘tell all’, attention grabbing, spotlight mentalities. But it is rooted in fear. Fear is not always bad. We steer away from danger because of the fear of what may happen. The little hairs that stand up on the back of our necks are triggered by fear. It can be a healthy thing. But it has nothing to do with being an introvert. Personally, I am also shy. Growing up, that was also labeled as a negative thing. Double whammy for me – though being shy and being an introvert were essentially the same thing.
Reservation is an act of caution. It can be rooted in fear as a defense mechanism, but it is most often being cautious about who we share information with. It’s about trust. Can I trust you with the information I share? As with anything, it can be taken to an extreme, making it unhealthy, but I personally see being reserved as a strength. The definition of ‘reserved’ is restrained in words and actions or not excessive or extravagant. I think it’s good to be restrained or to not be excessive or extravagant.
Introverts are not withdrawn. Most of us truly enjoy being around people. If I’ve had enough downtime to recharge, I would rather be around people – especially people I care about. I grew up in dance and theater. Most performers fall into one of two categories. They are either natural ‘hams’ who are always performing and entertaining no matter what they are doing. Or they are introverts who can flip a switch when they are ‘on stage’. I fall into the latter category. I am a great example of an introverted performer. I grew up on stage, and I spent years in front of classes, teaching dance. As hard as it is to believe for most people who know me, I don’t mind speaking in front of people when I’m talking about something I care about.
Introversion is a personality trait. It is a preference relating to how we focus our thoughts, and how we gain energy. Introverts are inwardly focused. We like to think and explore our own thoughts and feelings. Usually, being around people interferes with our desire to be introspective. Of course, that doesn’t mean that we don’t like conversation. We just tend to enjoy deeper conversations about thoughts and ideas instead of small talk. From a personal standpoint, I hate small talk. It bores me. I want to hear about your life, and I want to exchange ideas and connect on a deeper level.
Introverts like to reflect on new information – analyze it, process it – and only make decisions after some time. We very rarely like to tell you what we think if put on the spot unless it’s a topic that we’ve already analyzed, but we are capable of carrying on a conversation about almost anything. We just may not enjoy that conversation very much, and it will drain us of energy.
Introverts gain their energy from being alone. That is how we recharge. It doesn’t mean that we don’t like being around people. We are not ‘antisocial’. I love being around people. If it is someone I care about and enjoy being with, I can be invigorated by the exchange of thoughts, ideas, and emotions. It is the larger settings that drain us – not because we don’t enjoy them, but because they use our energy. I heard an analogy once about the difference between introverts and extroverts. Introverts are like a rechargeable battery. They need to stop expending energy and rest in order to recharge. Extroverts, on the other hand, are like solar panels. For them, being alone is like being under a heavy cloud cover. Solar panels need the sun to recharge, in the same way that extroverts need to be out and about, interacting with lots of people, to refuel. Introverts need time to restore their energy, and it flows out faster than an extrovert’s energy. In order to function to the best of their ability, they need to calculate how much energy something will take, how much they need to conserve, and plan accordingly. Speaking in front of a group of people will knock me out, and a one on one conversation can invigorate and challenge me, but I have to balance both of those with some alone time to recharge.
I love being an introvert. I love that I think before I speak. I love that I think before I act. I love to listen to other people without always having to add my voice to the conversation. I love that I share with a small group of trusted people. I love that being an introvert allows me to see the world from a different perspective than the majority of the population. It fits the rest of my ‘minority’ personality traits. It ties me together. It’s who I am, and there is nothing wrong with it. It is not a social disease. It is not something that should be changed. It is my preference, and I’m finally ok with that."
http://findinggeri.wordpress.com/2011/02/20/being-an-introvert/
Beautiful. This describes me so perfectly I almost had difficulty reading it.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
I Write the Songs
Barry Manilow, how I love thee.
As for the quote, it is not direct. I read it somewhere and it made me think.
"I'm sure you have a strong friendship, but for him, it's not as new as it is for you."
We are all creatures of habit, we follow routines that are hard to break (why would we want to break them, anyway?). Is the same true of our choices in friends, in love interests?
The sad truth is that I follow a frightening routine in males. It's unconscious, I'm sure. But I act on some strange attractions. I am perhaps most enthralled with hair (which is not uncommon, I think), but also tend to be attracted to those who use illegal substances, who are of foreign descent, and who are as strange as myself (which means he must meditate/attend poetry slams/drink chai tea religiously/like philosophy/a number of other things). Unfortunately, I always find myself in the same situation with each of this type of person-- I end up broken hearted, which is a routine in itself. Others surely follow similar routines. One of my ex-boyfriends uses the same line with every girl he's with..."I'm not perfect". Well duh. I think we all knew that. He also ends up losing every girl he goes after. No coincidence there.
Perhaps what I'm wondering is, am I just another routine for someone? Another tally in the grand scheme of things? However much I would like to be the exception, I'm afraid that I'm not.
In friendships, I cherish every individual. The relationships we share are like nothing I've experienced before, and will not experience again. I will never know another Chelsea Terrell or Joe Lyon or Chelsea Beck in my life, even if I tried. I can not replace my friends with others. So when I heard this it made me think. Life is a cycle, a constant flux of birth and death and summer and winter and fall and spring and happiness and sadness. Could not the same be true of friends, of love? We lose something and try to regain it with another similar thing. This is not ill-intentioned or even deceptive...it simply is. Another example of the cyclical nature of humans.
So when I feel something that I think is "new" to me...what does that mean? It very obviously is not mutual, but does that really matter? I'm lucky enough to feel it once, and I may never feel it again. So I cling to it with everything I have, while simultaneously trying to act indifferent to it. What an interesting thought.
My mind is all jumbled at the moment (this probably has to do with the fact that it's 2:30 a.m. and I'm incredibly tired) and I don't think I'm making much sense.
But those are my thoughts for the moment. And NOW it is most certainly bedtime.
And by the way, the number is 8. I'm so incredibly curious to see what it would be like.
As for the quote, it is not direct. I read it somewhere and it made me think.
"I'm sure you have a strong friendship, but for him, it's not as new as it is for you."
We are all creatures of habit, we follow routines that are hard to break (why would we want to break them, anyway?). Is the same true of our choices in friends, in love interests?
The sad truth is that I follow a frightening routine in males. It's unconscious, I'm sure. But I act on some strange attractions. I am perhaps most enthralled with hair (which is not uncommon, I think), but also tend to be attracted to those who use illegal substances, who are of foreign descent, and who are as strange as myself (which means he must meditate/attend poetry slams/drink chai tea religiously/like philosophy/a number of other things). Unfortunately, I always find myself in the same situation with each of this type of person-- I end up broken hearted, which is a routine in itself. Others surely follow similar routines. One of my ex-boyfriends uses the same line with every girl he's with..."I'm not perfect". Well duh. I think we all knew that. He also ends up losing every girl he goes after. No coincidence there.
Perhaps what I'm wondering is, am I just another routine for someone? Another tally in the grand scheme of things? However much I would like to be the exception, I'm afraid that I'm not.
In friendships, I cherish every individual. The relationships we share are like nothing I've experienced before, and will not experience again. I will never know another Chelsea Terrell or Joe Lyon or Chelsea Beck in my life, even if I tried. I can not replace my friends with others. So when I heard this it made me think. Life is a cycle, a constant flux of birth and death and summer and winter and fall and spring and happiness and sadness. Could not the same be true of friends, of love? We lose something and try to regain it with another similar thing. This is not ill-intentioned or even deceptive...it simply is. Another example of the cyclical nature of humans.
So when I feel something that I think is "new" to me...what does that mean? It very obviously is not mutual, but does that really matter? I'm lucky enough to feel it once, and I may never feel it again. So I cling to it with everything I have, while simultaneously trying to act indifferent to it. What an interesting thought.
My mind is all jumbled at the moment (this probably has to do with the fact that it's 2:30 a.m. and I'm incredibly tired) and I don't think I'm making much sense.
But those are my thoughts for the moment. And NOW it is most certainly bedtime.
And by the way, the number is 8. I'm so incredibly curious to see what it would be like.
I lied
I didn't run out of words, thanks to Jacob Jones who reminded me of my favorite Dave quote.
Applicable.
“A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other...Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever"-Dave Matthews.
Applicable.
The Birthday Song
Luckily I remember the quote from yesterday.
Apparently Michael Jackson owns the Birthday song. I was not aware.
I don't have much to say/write today, at all. It seems English Majors DO run out of words.
They can't sing happy birthday anymore since Michael Jackson died...
Apparently Michael Jackson owns the Birthday song. I was not aware.
I don't have much to say/write today, at all. It seems English Majors DO run out of words.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Birthdays
It's Ifedayo's birthday...finally eighteen!!! And my own birthday is in 27 days. That's more than creepy. I don't like the idea of being 19...a year away from 20. I would venture to say that I'm not ready for everything that growing up entails. I'm just rambling, mostly because I have no idea what to say since I forgot what my quote was for today.
Oh! I know!
"Out of words, Ms. English Major?"
I thought pretty deeply about this one. Am I ever out of words? Yes, constantly. But only when I'm talking. When I'm writing, I'm never out of words. It's like a well of verbiage, and it never runs dry (god, that's corny). Ever. Even when I have nothing important to say, at all. Take right now, for instance. I could probably sit here and write pages of useless information that you never wanted to know. I could talk about the education system in Indiana, my surrounding at the moment, several stories that I heard in class today, my current reading material. I could write about a universe of ideas that manifest themselves in my hard-working brain every few seconds. But I could never talk about all of that stuff...it simply doesn't work for me. I find myself tongue-tied whenever anyone asks questions of me, or tries to start conversation. I'm a listener; I store everything I hear and wait until I get home to write about it.
Okay, so that's my quote, those are my thoughts.
Oh! I know!
"Out of words, Ms. English Major?"
I thought pretty deeply about this one. Am I ever out of words? Yes, constantly. But only when I'm talking. When I'm writing, I'm never out of words. It's like a well of verbiage, and it never runs dry (god, that's corny). Ever. Even when I have nothing important to say, at all. Take right now, for instance. I could probably sit here and write pages of useless information that you never wanted to know. I could talk about the education system in Indiana, my surrounding at the moment, several stories that I heard in class today, my current reading material. I could write about a universe of ideas that manifest themselves in my hard-working brain every few seconds. But I could never talk about all of that stuff...it simply doesn't work for me. I find myself tongue-tied whenever anyone asks questions of me, or tries to start conversation. I'm a listener; I store everything I hear and wait until I get home to write about it.
Okay, so that's my quote, those are my thoughts.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Literary Journalism
I always seem to have the most fun in my literary journalism class. The students consist of a hodge-podge of the eccentric; there are several heavily tattooed females, and the rest of us who look "normal" have the quirky personalities of creative writers (I recently overhead a conversation joking about the subjective case...which is beyond quirky, it's just plain nerdy). It makes for some interesting activities. On a typical day you'll either see us laughing in front of our computers, sitting on the floor with cut-out words trying to piece things together, or listening to the professor ramble about the art of literary journalism.
We were talking about our culture piece, which requires us to write about a specific culture that we've observed at least twice (and conducted interviews with, etc.). Professor Williams was trying to stress the importance of taking out "I" whenever possible. Here are two of her more laughable quotes:
“If you start narrating and philosophizing…that is bullshit!”
“Those powerpoint slides…are bullshit!”
She was in a bullshit mood today. Sometimes she's in a hell mood, sometimes a damn mood. But today, it was bullshit.
I love college.
We were talking about our culture piece, which requires us to write about a specific culture that we've observed at least twice (and conducted interviews with, etc.). Professor Williams was trying to stress the importance of taking out "I" whenever possible. Here are two of her more laughable quotes:
“If you start narrating and philosophizing…that is bullshit!”
“Those powerpoint slides…are bullshit!”
She was in a bullshit mood today. Sometimes she's in a hell mood, sometimes a damn mood. But today, it was bullshit.
I love college.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Eating Peaches
I've been in a fruit kind of mood. It's almost a problem. I ate all of my applesauce the other day and now I've moved on to peaches. Peaches, god, I love peaches. They're the Dole kind, all bottled up with claims of "in 100% fruit juices" but I don't know if I believe that. Oh well. So I have my fork and this bottle of peaches and I've been carrying them around on campus, in class, peeking out of my purse. I'm sure people think I'm insane. But do I care? Not on your life! The peaches are worth it.
Well, that's an effective intro. It really has nothing to do with my quote, except for the fact that I'm feeling whimsical today. I'm even wearing a dress! It's fabulous. And of course, if I'm wearing a dress and having a whimsical day then obviously I'm listening to Dave (Matthews Band, for the lame people who don't know who I'm talking about). The song happens to be "Seven" which is from Grux (the newest album). It's such a sexual song. Sexually seductive. Just kidding. But really, it is sexual.
Here's are a couple of my favorite lines:
"Red is the color of the sun with my eyes closed/I can still taste you, and I will again"
I told you I was in a weird mood. Usually I'm all gung-ho about the deep, meaningful lyrics of Dave blah blah blah. But nope. Right there, those lyrics. Mmmhmmm.
Okay, Post complete.
Well, that's an effective intro. It really has nothing to do with my quote, except for the fact that I'm feeling whimsical today. I'm even wearing a dress! It's fabulous. And of course, if I'm wearing a dress and having a whimsical day then obviously I'm listening to Dave (Matthews Band, for the lame people who don't know who I'm talking about). The song happens to be "Seven" which is from Grux (the newest album). It's such a sexual song. Sexually seductive. Just kidding. But really, it is sexual.
Here's are a couple of my favorite lines:
"Red is the color of the sun with my eyes closed/I can still taste you, and I will again"
I told you I was in a weird mood. Usually I'm all gung-ho about the deep, meaningful lyrics of Dave blah blah blah. But nope. Right there, those lyrics. Mmmhmmm.
Okay, Post complete.