Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Answer me this

Why must we assume others live with the goal of wanting to hurt us for their own selfish gain?

Won't this belief only contribute to a life of misery and fear?

Is it unreasonable to still have faith in the good will of others?

Are those who possess blind hope a dying breed?


Apparently being a good person is a crime, espescially in a time when apocalyptic wars are probably not too far ahead of us. We're in an age of survival of the fittest, and "fit" is synonymous with being a hardass.

What happened to "do unto others as you would like to have done to you"?
I don't see it. Maybe I'm just lost in time.

All I know is I don't want to live life in fear.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Sound and Vision.

I love the way my eyes refocus when the lights are turned off, so that all I see are a kaleidoscope of colors.
I love exploring blind spots and visual distortions. 
I love closing my eyes into my pillow when I'm in bed and seeing floating neon shapes. 
I love looking at one color and seeing twelve within.
I love seeing rainbows be reflected into the most unexpected objects, such as a wine glass. 
I love seeing fabrics fold and drape, creating new dimension and telling new stories.
I love getting lost in fabric prints and paint textures. 
I love old photographs where the darkest colors are tinted blue and everything looks distorted. I wish we saw things this way. 
I love looking into static air and space, and seeing how the air even comes to life as a sort of visual fuzz. But maybe that's just me.

I would much rather be deaf than blind. I prefer staring into the sun over hearing a foghorn.

I love exploring my world through vision. I feel like a visual world can say far more than a verbal world ever could, and it's a beautiful thing. 

Sunday, August 9, 2009


I knew this was bound to come up. The dreaded roommate discussion.

I've had a long history of bad roommates. I remember taking a summer program with one girl who accused me of breaking her computer, stealing her food (both of which I didn't do), and  subsequently put a "DON'T TOUCH MY SHIT" sign on the refrigerator (what a mature way of dealing with things!), and whined about me to all her friends. I'm glad that summer ended when it did. 

A few years later, it was my first year of college, and I was stuck with the coldest girl I'd ever met. No matter my efforts to be friendly, she was very rude - she even made nasty comments to me regarding my religious upbringing, and got angry at me when I confronted her about her snoring. I wish I'd left that situation early on and moved out - though I probably wasn't the best roommate either, clearly we weren't a good fit, and if your home base isn't relaxing, then what is? It's stressful knowing that the one place where you're supposed to recuperate is designed to make your life a living hell. 

As much as I wanted to share a room with others, I soon learned that I couldn't - I'm the type of person who needs plenty of alone time to recover from everyday interactions. It also doesn't help knowing that my positive interactions are with people I hardly ever see, since I run out of things to say very quickly, and if I spend too much time with a person my awkwardness probably makes them very uncomfortable. In summary, if I don't get at least a few hours of alone time a day I become miserable and can hardly function. I'm the perfect candidate for a single, and that's okay. It means your belongings are in the exact same place as you left them, also that your roommate won't leave the TV on all night. It means you won't be sexiled from your room, either. 

Enter sophomore year. I opted for a single within an apartment-style suite, shared with three other girls. It was wonderful because we all had our personal space, but would see each other when we didn't want to be alone. The other girls were very easygoing, and if a concern came up we'd deal with it immediately, in an appropriate manner. We also took care of one another when something difficult came up. 

We weren't best friends, but then I learned that we didn't have to be. The only requirement for living with roommates is that you get along, and are able to tolerate each other's weird living habits. It was a very relaxing environment and I had no problem leaving my room. Though there were always people socializing in my living room, I could go lie down in my bedroom and relax by myself, and it would be okay. These are the way things ought to be. 

In summary, here's what I'd recommend: If you're out all the time, and use your room merely as a place to store clothes, then it shouldn't matter if you have a roommate. If you require a lot of alone time, then it may be more peaceful if you don't have to deal with fulfilling another person's needs. 

If you're worried about making friends your first year of college while having a single, then hear this: you're probably going to be living on a floor with a number of other students. It's perfectly appropriate to spontaneously knock on others' doors just to introduce yourself, and there will be plenty of events where you can get to know people and make new friends. Some of this should be built into orientation as well. It is exhausting, but if you don't retreat into your room for days at a time, I'm sure you'll be able to meet some people you like.  

Putting on a disguise

I've just been noticing this strange phenomenon within myself: I think I have some sort of facial blindness, except it pertains to just me. I often forget what I look like, and am surprised when others recognize me.

Whenever I go out in public, I'll put on a pair of sunglasses. Since they shield my eyes from the world, I feel like they create a barrier between me and everyone else. In a huge city it's kind of a relief: I can finally take a break from awkward glances at people I don't know, and nasty stares from others for looking like a complete oddball.

At the same time, this often perplexes me: I'm surprised when my peers actually recognize me. A person is identified by their eyes, eyebrows, and bridge of the nose. Even when I try to cover up my identifying features, I still stand out, and appear only as myself. I'll only appear to be myself unless I think up some better disguise, so I can give myself a break from the stress of socializing.
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