Honesty

Part of me wants to be a completely honest person.

Another part of me looks at all of the cases where reality is too dark.

I used to look in the mirror and understand what I saw.  I could read my eyes, see my emotion.  I knew exactly what was looking back at me, and not because I was monitoring my internal mental state, but because my face was legible.  My eyes were telling.  The window to my soul was ajar.

Now, when I look in the mirror, I can't read myself.  I'm so covered up by complex experiences and emotions that the sheen over my face, especially my eyes is opaque.

It's disconcerting.


I wonder how many people understand me, as I try to understand them?

Maybe I'm uneasy for the same reason that I like to learn all about other people.  I like understanding them as I want to know everything about myself.

Really, though, it worries me that I'm becoming disconnected from the world around me--spiritually, emotionally.  I don't want to be cut off from others.  I don't want to be confused.  I want to find the answers and be happy.  I want to tease apart my emotions and make them intelligible.  I want to not be distant from the people that I like and care about.  I want to be available.

Well, in a certain sense I am.  In another sense, the way that I've become must certainly deter people from getting closer.  There's nobody to blame, and there's nothing wrong with me.  I don't think there's anything to fix, but at the same time I worry if it's the case that

I also understand that I need to find peace in solitude, but I have done absolutely nothing to actuate that process.  I need to find something that I can do by myself, for myself.  I need to do something selfish that doesn't involve any other person.  Maybe I'll be able to resolve my inner turmoil and find peace.

But then again, I might just be a complex person who's hard to get to know.  Maybe that's just who I am and who I always will be.  Maybe there's nothing to work through, and my lack of fulfillment is simply a passing phase.  Maybe it will go away if I focus on living to the fullest, and don't worry about fixing anything.

I guess it doesn't matter.  What I need to do most is get into a rhythm and learn everything I can about the academic material ahead of me.  I have work to do and knowledge to absorb.  I should treat that as a quest and an adventure.  I need to rekindle my enthusiasm for my dreams.

For some reason, I'm very hesitant about posting this.  Alas, if the extent to which people go out of their way to interact with me in person is any indication of the lengths to which they go in learning about me online, then I needn't worry about unreasonable judgment.

I hate how conceited and self-defeating that sounds.  I wish I knew how to make myself a more open person.

...Fuck, let's be honest.  I wish I knew how to make people like me!  Isn't that what we all want?  Someone to care about us, to treat us as friends?  I have those people, but sometimes my wickedly selfish perception blames my own shortcomings on others.  Perhaps it works the other way too?  I don't know.

In any case, the amount of time I spend on this pitiless wallowing is proof that I need to stop the introspection, as I have done before and as was markedly healthy.  Back to discrete structures homework.

Wallowing.

(I need to remember to write a follow up to this hideously mopey post - in that there are possibly distinctions to be drawn between my identity, my personality, my disposition, my experiences, and my feelings.)