Sliding

I wonder about if I am a good person. If I do things that even though they don’t induce feelings of guilt or moral wrongness or sad, if the things that I have done make me a good person. It’s complicated.

The scale of good or bad is an incredibly personal one that changes from day to minute to hour to year. It is constantly in flux, depending on our feelings for that day it might be wholly changed from where it was just a few days ago even. Events that normally would be shouted down in the senate of my brain suddenly stand their grounds, their arguments are suddenly more enlightened, more profound than previously thought. The rate at which the arguments begin to sound reasonable, sound adds to the terrifying mess that occurs later on.

After this apex, the climax of bad decision making (though it isn’t necessarily bad but rather emotional and knee jerk) when the cards have fallen, when the chips fall in their respective places that the question of am I good person makes it’s first appearance.

The question, unlike others in it’s family (What have I done, who is this, why do I have that road sign) is insidious in it’s approach. It approaches innocently enough, normally when you’re feeling well enough. You’re feeling hopeful, strong, like everything is amazing and awesome then it inches into your cortex. It begins to steep, slowly turning those feelings into traitors.

After it has infiltrated enough, it then turns to gaze at you, staring down into your soul. Am I good person, it asks quizzically, eye brow raised slightly bemused. I couldn’t quite tell if it has a serpentine voice or one schooled by corporate public relations coaches.

I am a good person, I say back. In my minds eye I am standing there, in a steam punk sky pirate apparel with a rapier held out. This is who I am, when I need to have fights with myself I arm myself up. I make myself into the person I would love to be, that I am slowly turning myself into since my mind and the insidious question can take whatever form they wish.

I am a good person because I am trying to better myself, that I am constantly evolving to be the best that I can be. I know where my boundaries are, that I don’t give in or turn a blind eye to things that I find or feel are wrong. I uphold my own sense of right and wrong, while aided by what society deems is morally right or wrong while seeing the blind spots within it.

It’s just a little complicated sometimes. And that’s where we find out who we are, in the complications.

À bien tôt!

Zed

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I’ve been sitting, thinking, wishing

I do not have all of the answers. I do not know everything.

I am like other people trying to find a way to thrive while living. I want to try to find out the ways in which I am happiest, while being around people who I genuinely like. It’s like I’m trying to re discover what makes me happy, what makes me me and how to go about things.

This isn’t meant to be a depressing post or anything. More of a wondering and a standing still in time post. An introspective spewing of words in a pattern that does not appear too defensive or offensive.

I am going to begin to doodle more. I miss doing art-y type stuff and have an idea that maybe a webcomic one day would be a nice thing to have. So. I need to work on being able to draw people, draw things and then it’ll help out more in that respect.

I am writing more so that I can better at putting thoughts to page (well pixel now or screen). The words don’t always come out as quickly as I would like or as well as I would like the first time but that’s what editing is about. Trimming the fat and expose the juicy meat of what really wants to be said, all of that jazz.

I am going to be happy one way or another. I will find a way, a notion of where ideally I would like to be and where I realistically can be. No doubt that I will challenge the realistic position with the ideal position or that I’ll lose ground only to make it then later find out I’ve changed and somethings don’t matter as much as they once did.

People change. I change. I have changed, I’ve changed a lot in the last few years and I don’t think that I will ever stop changing. How things are interpreted, how things are acted upon in life, be it digital or real, depend on perspective. As much as we might (well I might) hate to believe that we’re constantly moving, constantly editing the narrative of our own lives, we are. We’re moving in the direction in which convinces at this moment, this very moment, the most and then it changes a second later. The shared history we have between people, between friends, acquaintances, allies, lovers and enemies is in constant flux depending upon the mood we find ourselves in.

Or at least to me that’s what I find. When I am angry the way in which I remember things is sharper, more defined, more angular almost. It reminds me of being defensive sometimes, when I feel like I am defending something worthwhile I am filled with a righteousness that has a slight angular taste.

When I am sad things are grey. I kid you not, my memories are greyer, more monotone. I remember things not as well as I should either when I am sad or depressed. Entire blocks of time are lost when I am depressed and suddenly it’s a month later than what I had thought it to be. Time both takes forever to dole itself out yet is spent faster than I can remember.

Happy is one of the weirder emotions for me. Things are more green, more yellow, citrus and ginger are happy smells. It’s just. Citrus and ginger smell like happy. Things are brighter, colours bolder and memories are more likely to invoke Cheshire cat smiles. These memories are the bright and shining stars, they provide guidance, hope when everything melts from grey into black.

I don’t have all of the answers, I never claimed to. I do, however, have a conviction that I will be happy. That in this ever winding maze of a life I damn well better be as happy as I want and that I matter. No matter what, I have meaning, I have purpose and most importantly I have people that care about who I let.

À bientôt!

Zed

 

Snow flakes and neurosis

It’s a snowy afternoon here, it is much warmer than it had been earlier this week and it is a little more calm. I finished up with the workshop I went to because of how bad my GPA last semester was. As a workshop it was nice. It was a lot better than many of the workshops I’ve had to go / take part of in the last year.

It gave me time to think, to re evaluate. I like writing, I like english however something one of my friend’s said yesterday is kinda digging at me. She said that she had to give up English as a major, had to accept writing as a pipe dream because she has a child and needs to have a career after her undergrad. She’s majoring in psych so far.

It came off as very defeatist to me.

I don’t like defeatist things. There is a limit on how hard you should try for something and lines where defeat is acceptable however to me it should not be accepted right off the bat. It’s counter productive, it doesn’t help anything when you’ve already determined that you’re going to lose at something, that no matter how much you may want or believe in something that because you think you cannot do it, that it is futile any effort will be wasted. It bothers me more than it really should.

I dig in. I throw everything I can into the things I do, I run head long into the unknown sometimes. I jump before looking and I know that somehow I will land on my feet. That I am strong ,maybe a bit more lucky, enough to make my own luck and survive no matter what. So I have faith in my convictions, I have belief in what I believe to be right and what ideals I adhere to. I know that I am hard to deal with, that I am full of sharp edges and things that many people may not agree with. I know that I am complicated, that I am incredibly lucky and that many people would not to chose to go through life like how I have.

I know these things.

It still bothers me though. It’s almost like it’s a personal attack on me when people are incredibly defeatist, when they accept mediocricyinstead of wanting to be better. Do better, try harder, to change how they are perceived in the world and how their world is perceived by them. It shouldn’t but it does.

I am always, in the back of my mind, striving to be better. To be better at life, to be better at being myself and to someday be better off than I am now. It’s kind of self centered to say that I am the only who does this, I’m not. Lately it has just seemed that many people are fine to be trapped into a life where half assing it fine. Rewarded even and it grates at me.

I’m not perfect. I do not have the answers.

However I do know that I can only do the best that I can. And at the end of the day, it’s something that I have to accept.

I am so rant-y in this.

I’ll write again soon!

À bientôt!

Zed

Greetings again!

I love this video so much right now. It puts into feelings, exposes better than I could. 

I’ve been putting off writing here for awhile. For a long time I just didn’t feel like it, like it wouldn’t make any kind of difference one way or another. Only, it does make a difference. I get better at typing out my thoughts, my ideas and in that I re examine why I believe those things. And how.

I believe that there are different ways to experience things. Which is kinda neat. I don’t think that this blog will ever get a larger readership; however it might have some people who check in from time to time. Maybe I’ll get much better at writing, at typing, at explaining and examining things and people will want to read it. Who knows.

I am hard to get a hold. I am slippery. I make plans and then sometimes social anxiety gets to me. It sucks but sometimes being surrounded by people is a frightening thing. Or the way in which I am dressed suddenly becomes reprehensible; how could I possibly imagine that this would be a good idea to wear. My confidence is fleeting at times. I do like socializing with some people, that’s the crux of all this. There are some people whom I would rather not socialize with though and the way/shape/form I socialize is odd.

I suck at picking up on body language. I know when something is wrong, sometimes with body language but still. It can be awkward when people crack a joke, when it’s encoded within sarcasm or black humor and I get part of it but still. People with body language is odd. Like I can pick up when people are happy and I’m doing what they want, it’s still odd.

I guess it’s like learning another language.

So this semester, along with getting a better GPA I am going to grow some confidence. That doesn’t try to flee at odd moments. What I do know and when I do get things, I get them. I’m that person sitting in the classroom who’s bored out of their skull when they understand what they’re doing, giving more complex answers than what’s warranted and that generally stops any kind of conversation or is so far outside the realm of conversation it’s kind of stupid. I am that person. The idiot savant. You would think that I’d be more self confident more of the time but it’s odd.

Anyways I’ve rambled quite a bit.

À bientôt!

I promise to write sooner again!

Zed ❤