| View Blog
|
|
|
|
dear friend,
i fear my back will never be the same. here i sit, hunched, there i stand, hunched. But its all relative to where ever it is im supposed to be.
i thought i would slouch here at my desk and stare at this bright white screen for a bit before i closed my eyes.
how i wish i could just close my eyes.
i dont want to talk about the events of the day, but then how could you ever know how i got to be in such a mood.
i went to work, was off. Worked around and fed the masses. I got off work and ate, and fell into despair. Of course no events really hold any affect over me. I dont care if the suns out, or if im doing somthing with someone or no one. I really dont mind laying in bed. I could care less about whats on tv. Any movie i try to watch just puts me to sleep. Everything that made sense yesterday is gone. The troubling thing is, that there is nothing that caused this. I just woke up, and here there i was.
I've given up on my aspirations of becoming a psychologist.
Why? Do i really need an explanation? I mean, what do you care anyway? Why should I care about what your question means?
But, since you always must know all these things, i will tell.
The story is short i suppose.
I sat in my class, and was thinking about what any young adult thinks about in class...brain functions.
I wondered, how....how did i make it to this point in my life? How did i choose this path? But that has nothing to do with my change. No that was just a thought.
I went to work and lived some dull satisfying life there whispering thanks to the hungry.
And then i just loomed around for a bit.
Where? I dunno, in my head im nowhere and everywhere. So i just found some little pathway in my mind and followed it. It was a very reflective path, and it had many side streets. I followed it for almost a lifetime. There i was, me, a blur with a blurs burden. And i hated it. That wasnt me.
I shuffled around, and thought a bit more about some silly little concerns.
Sitting in that class, i was so enthralled with every word the professor spoke. But so greedy i am, and have always been.
Psychology was not going to be the path of righteousness i had planned it to be. I 'wanted' to help people. But all the people that needed help, didnt want help. And all the fools that wanted it, were scum. Psychology would never let me help anyone but myself.
I get great joy out of learning how peoples minds work. It helps me know my own...
But
My mind is not their mind. 'Their' being everyone who wants to describe my mind. I grew, quickly, in a bitter distaste for psychology.
My sweet little candy, full of sugar and bright with flavor. Psychology was such a pleasant trip. But little did i know, cavities would form and eat away at my minds mouth.
I began learning, out of school, about artsy-fartsy things.
About expression.
Psychology was, and is, the opposite of expression.
All of us, the dreaded humans, have very different heads, full with rich experiences. I did not want to put people through the dull of explaining other peoples minds.
Theories of mind only describe the first parts of thought.
Its fine to know certain little gems of this and that. But to study it to the point of beleiving it....i just cannot do that.
A girl said in class "Well according to Piaget, my situation is like this...." The teacher said "well what do you think?"
she said, "hes right!"
I dont, i cant, i wont
i just wont beleive in anything unless i myself make it.
if i say "Your demonstrating blah blah blahs 5th stage of denial, you should do blah blah blek" then please dear God slay me and send me to hell.
Psychology was my way to organize all the strange things in my life.
But it wasnt me.
Psychology made me aware of my shell. And for that, i thank it.
But now i must meet the turtle inside it, who shivers at the very hint of anything.
No body ever said anything brilliant to me
But id like to think that someone in my past could have said
"Ben, you gotta know yourself before you know anything else"
So to you, mysterous past, i will use your words as guidance, and one day return back to you, and begin to know you.
I'd like to end there
but you just wouldnt be satisfied would you?
So what am i doing now?
English
because its with my words that help me to express myself. Not in any fancy way, sometimes, but in a style that fits the things i know about myself already.
My hand is too precise to work with paints. My ears are too fine tuned to play music. My feet are too well balanced to dance. So with my sloppy mouth i will write.
an interesting point to be made
and this is solely for me
At the beginning of this, i felt dull and deathy. But now, after releaseing some of myself i feel....better.
sincerely,
Ben
|
|
Posted by benventure on 2008-04-07 00:33:43 | Rating: | Views: 76
|
|
| |
|
|
| Blog Comments
|
|
|
|
Ben while reading this I feel like you took me on a journey of your day and your thoughts and I was with you all the way, understanding everything you said, it all made sense and you made some valid points and had some terrific insights, thats what growing means....you are growing, have been growing and learning and know that by writing you will learn more about yourself. Sometimes we do not know whats on our mind until we empty it. Sometimes we do not know whats bothering us until we start writing down our thoughts. Sometimes we feel we can never heal or feel good again, but writing can do all that for us. Its such a gift. Ben, you are a writer!
You have been searching and searching and its ben (pun) here all the time, clear as the nose on your face.
I have so much more to say about all of this, but if you are anything like my kids, Ive already lost your attention, becuase I cant make it short and sweet, so I will save the rest for later.
Im just glad you felt better after writing than you did before you started...thats usually what happens...and thats just one of the reasons why I really love to write!
|
|
Posted by roe
on 2008-04-07 22:54:28
|
|
|
|
|
thanks roe!
|
|
Posted by benventure
on 2008-04-09 16:16:06
|
|
|
|
|
|
Email This to a Friend 
