Friday, June 10, 2005
Am I Dead Yet?
Life moves to quickly sometimes.I remember long ago, the farm life was the good life. I remember when my thoughts and dreams revolved around country living. When the prospect of going to Iowa filled me with anticipation. I cursed my bad luck for being born in the city. I placed my relatives who were fortunate enough to live in the country upon a pedestal.
This condition lasted for years. For the majority of my life, I lusted for this simple life. I envied everyone and cursed my concrete surroundings. I remember, very distinctly, when I was five I told myself I was lucky because other people had to worry about what they wanted to do for a living, I knew what I wanted. I was going to be a farmer.
I don't know when it happened. I went away one day and I still respected my relatives, and then I came back and it was all different.
They were the same. My family was exactly as it had always been. Same names, same locations, same behaviors and same beliefs. I know they were, and still are, the exact same as they had been all their lives. Their condition remained unaltered.
And it killed me...
Everything they said was wrong. Everything they did was backwards. Every belief they held was incorrect. I couldn't stand to be in any kind of contact with them. Their words were a cheese grater on my soul, their presence a plauge that only leaving could cure.
It hurt me. It hurt me more than I thought anything could hurt. To see the people you once loved become a museum to your past is a truely gut-wrenching experiance. They were nothing more than antiques to me. All the respect was gone. All the interest was evaporated. I felt nothing but contempt for their ways of living. I was always more and more eager to leave.
Just being in their presence evoked my sense of flight. I wanted to flee. I wanted to run. I wanted to abandon them and all my responsiblities as a member of that family. Misery was all that surrounded me at any gathering. Everytime I was with them was an experiance similar to a funereal. Every sentance reminded me of a dirge.
I want to be around happy things, or at least, things that aren't going to fire every negative emotion in my mind. Happiness isn't all there is to experiance in life, but such a crippeling depression is the last experiance I want to have.
"Hey _____."
"Hey Dan."
"How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Fine."
"..."
"..."
"Well, see you later."
THAT IS THE EXTENT TO WHICH I CAN HOLD A CONVERSATION WITH ANY GIVEN MEMBER OF MY EXTENDED FAMILY!!!"
I am disgusted with them. They represent a key element of my past. I am disgusted with my past.
Maybe that's the problem, maybe I am just so ready to cut myself of from my past that being around living breathing, talking remanants from my past is enough to evoke such passionate hatred inside of my soul.
Marde has an interestng philosophy on hatred. She says that you can't truely hate something without loving it first. That to feel a negative emotion about soemthing, you must feel a positive enotion towards it first. That feelings, much like matter, are bound by Newton's Third Law. "For every (emotional) action, there is an equal and opposite (emotional) reaction."
I believe it.
Make no mistake, I loved those people. I truely did. I looked up to them, viewed them as gods, to an extent.
Now time has changed me.
I ahte them all and wish so thoroughly to never see any of them ever again.
posted by Dan # 3:38 PM 2 comments
Am I Dead Yet?
Life moves to quickly sometimes.I remember long ago, the farm life was the good life. I remember when my thoughts and dreams revolved around country living. When the prospect of going to Iowa filled me with anticipation. I cursed my bad luck for being born in the city. I placed my relatives who were fortunate enough to live in the country upon a pedestal.
This condition lasted for years. For the majority of my life, I lusted for this simple life. I envied everyone and cursed my concrete surroundings. I remember, very distinctly, when I was five I told myself I was lucky because other people had to worry about what they wanted to do for a living, I knew what I wanted. I was going to be a farmer.
I don't know when it happened. I went away one day and I still respected my relatives, and then I came back and it was all different.
They were the same. My family was exactly as it had always been. Same names, same locations, same behaviors and same beliefs. I know they were, and still are, the exact same as they had been all their lives. Their condition remained unaltered.
And it killed me...
Everything they said was wrong. Everything they did was backwards. Every belief they held was incorrect. I couldn't stand to be in any kind of contact with them. Their words were a cheese grater on my soul, their presence a plauge that only leaving could cure.
It hurt me. It hurt me more than I thought anything could hurt. To see the people you once loved become a museum to your past is a truely gut-wrenching experiance. They were nothing more than antiques to me. All the respect was gone. All the interest was evaporated. I felt nothing but contempt for their ways of living. I was always more and more eager to leave.
Just being in their presence evoked my sense of flight. I wanted to flee. I wanted to run. I wanted to abandon them and all my responsiblities as a member of that family. Misery was all that surrounded me at any gathering. Everytime I was with them was an experiance similar to a funereal. Every sentance reminded me of a dirge.
I want to be around happy things, or at least, things that aren't going to fire every negative emotion in my mind. Happiness isn't all there is to experiance in life, but such a crippeling depression is the last experiance I want to have.
"Hey _____."
"Hey Dan."
"How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Fine."
"..."
"..."
"Well, see you later."
THAT IS THE EXTENT TO WHICH I CAN HOLD A CONVERSATION WITH ANY GIVEN MEMBER OF MY EXTENDED FAMILY!!!"
I am disgusted with them. They represent a key element of my past. I am disgusted with my past.
Maybe that's the problem, maybe I am just so ready to cut myself of from my past that being around living breathing, talking remanants from my past is enough to evoke such passionate hatred inside of my soul.
Marde has an interestng philosophy on hatred. She says that you can't truely hate something without loving it first. That to feel a negative emotion about soemthing, you must feel a positive enotion towards it first. That feelings, much like matter, are bound by Newton's Third Law. "For every (emotional) action, there is an equal and opposite (emotional) reaction."
I believe it.
Make no mistake, I loved those people. I truely did. I looked up to them, viewed them as gods, to an extent.
Now time has changed me.
I ahte them all and wish so thoroughly to never see any of them ever again.
posted by Dan # 3:38 PM 2 comments
posted by Dan at
3:37 PM
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