2001-09-06 - 9:02 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Imagine", John Lennon

When I was younger, I used to buy myself a new spiral notebook at the beginning of the school year, or at the beginning of the summer. College ruled, of course. My favorite kind was the Mead 9.5" by 6" notebook, 80 sheets. I used it for a lot of things -- making lists, taking notes, writing letters, and what I guess you could call "scribbles". Not a journal or diary, and certainly not written with any kind of regularity, but just thoughts I was having and wanted to record for some reason.

Mixed in with boxes of junk from my apartment (back in 1994-1997) that I am still going through, I discovered one of these notebooks, from the year I was 19. So, ten years ago exactly.

What paradoxically surprises me and yet doesn't surprise me at all is that 95% of what I wrote is stuff that I still believe today. I would have thought I'd change more in ten years. That I wouldn't have been so certain of what I believed at that age, to the point that I still believe the same things today because my experience has borne them out.

One of the more interesting things I found, mixed in with some bad pun jokes I'd forgotten (you'll be hearing them from me soon, oh yes) and some notes on how to use DOS (!), was a rant I wrote to myself.

This requires a little background.

At the time, I was casually but exclusively dating someone I'll call Anthony. I was drawn to him because, aside from finding him attractive, he was not a very open person. Opposites attract, or I wanted the challenge of trying to draw him out, or whatever, I'm not sure. I learned a great deal from this relationship; I know that -- about how people operate, who I was in comparison to him, what I was willing to bend on and what I wasn't.

Anyway, let me try to explain what I was looking for that I was having trouble getting from Anthony. This particular quality is extremely important to me, and I've never been able to come up with a term to describe it. I used to call it an ability/interest in "philosophizing". It's sort of like that. A keen awareness of oneself, and the people around you, and an intense interest in understanding the interrelationships of people. An awareness of how people behave. An interest in why things are the way they are. An interest in ideas, and in refining and reshaping those ideas and learning new ones. Maybe you could call it an attentiveness?

Everybody has this quality to an certain extent; some have very little of it, and for other people it's a defining quality. It's one of the top things I'd tell you about myself if you asked me what I'm like. It's certainly the one thing, when I find it to share in other people, that gives me the most fulfillment out of anything in my life.

Most of you have been reading this journal long enough to know what quality I'm talking about, I think, despite my muddled description.

So anyway, it turns out that Anthony, and a mutual friend, Andrea, were on the other end of the scale from me where this quality is concerned. This isn't a bad thing in itself. Certainly I think too much at times, and being around people who are more accepting of how things are is a good lesson in how to let go and just BE.

Nevertheless, the fact remained that I wanted more "philosophizing" from Anthony, and he didn't understand what I was talking about or why it was so important to me, much less how to do it. For me it was like breathing; he didn't even know what it was.

He made the point, which I still think has merit to an extent, that for all the philosophizing I might do, that doesn't change how things ARE, making it a useless activity, practically speaking.

Practically speaking, yes, maybe. But we're talking about an emotional need here, which isn't going to be practical regardless. I'd also be unhappy in a relationship that wasn't cuddly, since I'm a tactile person who likes hugs. Certainly it makes sense that some people are going to be less interested in physical contact, but one of those people being in a romantic relationship with me is a recipe for disaster. Same thing if I'm with someone who doesn't have this quality (or hasn't developed it much).

So, at this point in my life, I was struggling to explain what it was that I wanted and trying to ask for it from Anthony, and he basically thought I was nuts, I think. So did Andrea. They were a both a little dismissive of the whole thing.

I don't remember what happened to trigger my scribbled rant, but it must have been something about the two of them both telling me I was being more or less ridiculous in insisting on something so intangible, useless, and difficult to define. I was pretty mad at the time, as evidenced by letters getting bigger and bigger and copious use of exclamation points. The reference to "C", btw, is my best friend from high school, who had the quality I'm talking about.

At the top of the page, boxed off, is that quote I'm so fond of:

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Then the rant:

***

I'm just not LIKE that! I can't just sit back and accept things the way they are -- I want to know WHY, I want to UNDERSTAND the MOTIVES behind things!! What's so awful about that? The ENTIRE FIELDS of philosophy and psychology are based upon that idea, so I can't POSSIBLY be the only one to feels that way.

I CAN'T TRUST A PERSON WHO JUDGES HOW I THINK!! IF I WANT TO WONDER WHY, FUCK YOU -- THERE'S NO REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T!! C UNDERSTANDS THIS!!

DON'T LET THEM MAKE YOU FEEL BAD BECAUSE YOU'RE LIKE THAT

IT'S YOU
AND
YOU'RE FINE!!!!!

***

Heh. There's a lot of the shit I preach to other people in there. Don't let other people put you down. Don't feel bad when they try. Believe in yourself and what is right for you.

It makes me smile to read it. Because I was so mad, and because now, ten years later, I still believe it. Because I was right. Because I'm married to someone who shares this quality and who loves me because I have it.

Which reminds me of one of the best piece of advice I ever got, although I didn't understand it at the time, since I was only 11 or so:

"Don't settle."

I didn't, and I'm glad.

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