There's a science to fear

There's a science to fear

So I have this thing (things, there're always things, but I suppose I've already covered that) about defining who I am, constantly, to myself, in my head, scribbled in notebooks, typed in word documents on my computer, maybe so that I don't lose track of myself.  I am uptight and pretentious at times even though it's something that I despise in others because I hold my morals close to my chest in fear that something or someone rips them from my hands and turns me into a follower, tricks me into forgetting that I have feelings and rights and ideas that matters too.  That's what I'm most afraid of, I guess, losing track of what I believe in and turning into someone else. 

But then I have this fear that who I think I am isn't really who I am.  There's this part in All the King's Men, which I surprisingly actually liked, about the paradox of reality, and how reality isn't real unless you count in that it's part of a series of events.  So reality relies on the past to exist.  And I guess that who I am is who I am now but also who I've been and who I'm going to be, although I can't possibly know that now.  But who I am now is someone who feels stupid talking like this and now wants to make a joke and end the post like nothing ever happened. 

I fell down off every wall I ever built

I fell down off every wall I ever built

I finished All the King's Men today, which is kind of remarkable considering how long it took me to read the first half of the book.  Also I got my hair cut and discovered that my car has a tendency to head to the right when I don't want it to, which my dad fixed and was due to low tire pressure and not political tendencies. 

And I've been thinking about community, specifically Nerdfighteria, and how every community has its goods (which I really think shone through today) and its bads, despite pretending the bads don't exist.  I guess that's how everything is, really.  We highlight the good stuff and ignore the bad, push it aside, make it taboo to talk about, think about.  I think maybe that's why I blog.  There's something appealing in having control over what's said because I'm the one saying it and there's no one there to judge it.  And if there is then I can just say, if you don't like what you're reading then don't read it anymore.  I think that's a right we don't take advantage of enough.  If we don't like what we're doing, then why don't we just stop doing it?

Tonight's a rambly night, I suppose.  Not a JD Salinger night, but a night in which words don't really work the way they're supposed to and sleep is unappealing and my plant is wilting in its pot over on my dresser.  Also a night in which "what the hell am i talking about" is a very relevant tag.   

The moon was shining

The moon was shining

I've been thinking about being, and more specifically being in this generation, in this time, in this body, in this world state country city school in which things are this way and that way and not always the way that I or you or anyone or everyone thinks they should be.  Jumbled thoughts, tired eyes, no drivers license.  Not much has changed, or maybe will change, because maybe that's part of the being, this halt, this stickiness.