There you are, chatting about the past. Answering honestly questions about how you perceived things happening. Suddenly the questioner doesn’t like how you saw things and begins to argue that it didn’t happen that way. They see the most negative extreme of what you said and you meant something judgmentally void of right and wrong. In an attempt to keep clarifying, you realize that it is going nowhere and just as you are about to give up on the conversation, they throw shit at you: “Well it isn’t like you never did something stupid?”
Suddenly your eyes narrow, your throat wells up and you’re pissed. “We weren’t talking about me, sooo what does that have to do with what we were talking about?” you ask.
“I’m just saying….” the other party continues looking smug.
I try to retrace the conversation aloud with the person to figure out where I missed a turn but they are so dead set on putting me down that they refuse to map out the logic. My mind races to map it out alone before the emotion wells up enough to take away my voice.
step one: she asked my opinion
step two: I gave it to her, she seemed fine until I said that one thing
step three: I kept clarifying and she couldn’t see that what I said was just a neutral observation.
step four: the tables turned and now I am under fire.
step five: escape!
In reality I said something she didn’t agree with and instead of staying on topic, she was offended and responded with a verbal jab. I guess what I thought to be truthful common knowledge actually wasn’t. I so unknowingly offended her first and she fought fire with fire.
Moral of the story: don’t use examples that include the person you are talking to… use examples about other people instead. If they are still offended by that, then just don’t answer their questions anymore.
An interesting topic to be find myself writing about on a Saturday night, but writing about it seems to be the only way to get it off my mind. Rework worries me. I realize that rework is a fact of life and the power to completely eliminate it often is not mine, but It makes me lose confidence in myself. Since I my current personal goal is to identify and work through all the situations that cause me yo lose confidence in myself, I must focus on rework.
Rework makes me feel like shit. Like every time something is passed back it is because of some fault of my own and I know that is not true. It isn’t always my fault and it doesn’t matter whether or not it is anyone’s fault. But I often blame myself, not cognitively. The emotional tidal wave hits first, leaving my mind to clean up the wreckage. It is a mess. When rework is presented to me I make all sorts of strange comments like, “I thought I checked that.” I have internal fears that like to suck glory from rework. Every question someone asks become so sort of validation of my fears. Luckily I am able to beat my fears off with sticks and direct conversations with superiors (who always tell me I’m doing a good job), but it took years of being exposed to the work world to get this far in my social understanding of the workplace.
I want to be better, and I think the only way to be better is to really take inventory of how often I am given rework and note whether or not it was an error of my own or a defect in the task process. Also it would help to note how often I procrastinate and subsequently forget what I put off. Sigh… it never ends….
There are just so many rules in social life to follow… too many rules! I know them all so well that I am aware of many many opportunities to to break them, but I don’t break them on the world stage. Instead I break them in my mind. I play out the entire scene for my own amusement and often detriment. Generally the penalty for breaking social rules is embarrassment. If perchance you happen to not get embarrassed then people go out of their way to explain why you should be embarrassed while giving you those looks meant to teach children to behave and conform. Having broken many social rules, I am conditioned to be highly aware of rules, so aware that I automatically leave social gatherings with a feeling that I did something wrong. It is an automatic response that typically lasts until I finish reviewing the event for validation of the feeling. On a good day this feeling doesn’t bother me, but if I have been stressed, hungover, or not feel particularly well, my ability to deflect irrational thoughts decreases and I become unable to shake it off. Dwelling in these irrational thoughts only makes me feel worse. Awareness of what is going on helps but doesn’t fully cure my episode of despair. All I can do is hope that my general sense of well-being returns to brighten my day.
The world is apparently flattening yet all over I still sense a need in people to cling to old forms of social class structures. Top schools, top jobs, top companies, top designers, top top top top top. Are we working for money or recognition? If someone pays you a salary, you are working class. If you live paycheck to pay check, regardless of income amount, you are broke. If your net worth is negative, you are broke.
The standard of living gives people a false sense of social standing. The ability to talk and act “up” also give a false sense of where they stand. People aren’t competing against each other, people are competing against what others claim to have or be doing. There is a big difference, especially if you encounter a habitual exaggerator who defines themselves by their dreams not by their actual accomplishments. But anyway, why the need to compete after the contest is over? After the good school, good work experience, good standard of living, etc. At what point does the competitive drive just allow everyone to kick back and simply enjoy the fruits?
i guess I just want the competitive people to shut up. It is the noise coming out of their mouth, infecting my ears that irritates me. For some reason my brain finds meaning in it, fearful meaning. Perhaps my sensitivity to words is just flaring up again. The words hit at my insecurity about no being smart enough or good enough. So whenever I hear the competitive chatter, it gets to me. I don’t like being taunted, teased, or put down. Words have meaning and I respect them. Therefore I don’t use them aggressively unless I mean to, but that doesn’t mean I should expect everyone else to follow my same doctrine.
Harnessing my own insecurity would help. If I accepted that I am perfectly fine and capable, then I could move on. I could fill in the empty space were my old insecurity sat with something better that doesn’t listen for fearful confirmation. I could replace it with confidence and the ability to not need to second guess myself.
This world is highly evolved, I’m still amazed by the existence of the clock. I think it is funny that one day someone looked up and realized that time exists and we can track it. I think it is even more funny that people write about different worlds because seriously this place exists and has a history (proof of which is given in the existence of a clock) so other places must exist too, right? What I don’t understand is why this idea of other worlds became embedded into everyday life; here is my guess for how it got started:
I think that once everyone realized the odd existence of this world and postulated other worlds, the idea sparked the dawn of a new industry. Everywhere people started preaching of what they thought other worlds would look like. Since technology didn’t exist back then, there was no way to answer the question of “But how do we get to these other worlds?” So the smartest preachers said “You get to them when you die!” “When we die?” shrieked everyone in the crowds.
The farmer preacher said “yes! but only if you plough my field really well for your whole life, will you be able to get there.”
And the Doctor preacher said, “Only if you maintain your health and the health of your family will you get to see the best of the other worlds.”
And the evil preacher said, “only if you give into temptation, will I let you have power in the other worlds.”
And the scientist preacher said, “If we can build a space ship together, we can fly past the stars and take a super nova wormhole to travel to other worlds.”
By this point the idea of other worlds had become so prevalent in the society of humans on earth that no one dared question it. Over time certain preachers gained larger followings than others and we able to wield power over larger and larger groups of people.
It just makes sense to me to stay living for the real world… the one we know exists, then figure out the other worlds when we get there. But maybe that’s just how I travel.
Crush always likes to slam into me like a 30 foot tsunami. I just don’t know what hit me and I don’t see him coming (no pun intended). His desperation for a home is a result of my desperation for autonomy. I say he is “desperate” because his fancy takes such a wide variation of forms, so wide that I couldn’t possibly choose just one. I love them all (all meaning foreign ones, domestics are just pass times). He makes me love the way they speak, the words they say, the tone they use, the stuff I would normally shun, the actions they so easily express without asking…I love it all. I want to take it home with me. Nurture it and live off it to the point where I am completely dependent on it.
Sadly crush doesn’t stay in one place for long. His constant shifts sadden me. But in my deepest, darkest despair over what I can’t have there is always a little light checking in. He feeds me attention when I least expect it. He actually gives me hope…. but I think it is just crush in friend’s clothing…
How does it feel to be a slave in a world so full of beauty? Do you feel grateful to your silent and invisible master for allowing you feel the touches, smell the scents, see the sights, taste the flavors, sense the unknowns? Is it really better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Would you not be happier in a box where at least you know what everything means? Have you not noticed that no one wants to talk about it for too long? Have you counted how many times the subject has been dropped? When you speak of it, have you not seen the look in their eye that tells you they think you are mad for talking that way in this situation? Do you really think you are the crazy one?
I get depressed at the impossibility of many of my old dreams. Not so much because those dreams are not actually attainable in this world, but more so because I’m at a point in life when many life markers are now past and so, being no longer imprisoned by childhood life, I no longer dream like I used to no matter how hard I try. With all my great fantasies, logic rudely interrupts and haughtily states, “Don’t bother, the world doesn’t work that way.” I back down to this so called logic when in reality I don’t know why logic is sticking its weasel of a nose in my dream business anyway. So what if I want to build dream worlds where all my needs are met at the exact times I need them to be and where people say what I need them to say and shut up when I’m not in the mood. So what if I manifest what it would be like if someone I shouldn’t-have-a-crush-on-but-do actually wants to hang out with me and even brings me a flower in exchange for my company. Logic comes in again and says, “you can’t spend all your time in perfect worlds, if you do, you’ll never know what it is really like to be surprised.” Well logic has a point, however he forgets to notice how many times he incorrectly uses the word ‘surprise’ in replacement of ‘disappointment’.
So I have learned… but in a different way. It is no longer about the basics, it is about how all the layers and remembrances come together to make all the cogs and pulleys of my current situation roll together to keep the machine of life running smooth enough to enjoy every minute of it. For a while there it was difficult to know what from the past I would need to utilize going forward, but once the pieces fell into place, suddenly it all seemed so clear. Clear enough that I am confident that I can coast along in my boat knowing that I will reap rewards once I arrive at my next cross road.
I need cross roads, perhaps more often than other people do. They make me feel alive because of all the different emotions and experiences that drive and challenge me towards completion of goals. I am forced to create goals by my drive to constantly having something to look forward to.
There are so many things that I won’t do again because I’ve learned that they aren’t for me or that specific types of situations really aren’t going to get me the results I would want. But the beautiful part about it all is that I can just live it in my imagination, where, if I don’t like the outcome, I can ponder up an alternative or two or three all while sitting at my desk at work, taking in even more fuel for my dream world.