How many times a day, month, or year do you find yourself making decisions based on your perception of what's right versus wrong? Whens the last time a close friend asked you for the same opinion? The ultimate question looming in their heads is am I right, or am I wrong? Am I being honest or just plain mean? Selfish in a good or bad way?
When friends need support and encouragement, often times they're seeking affirmation from their peers. Reassuring them they're not crazy, selfish, or wrong usually does the job. Ultimately, we're simply reinforcing in their heads that they are in fact staying consistent with their inner moral code. Whether they are aware of this or not, I'd probably say no, but at the time of desperation, it usually doesn't matter. People search for ways to feel at peace with their inner selves, regardless of the reasons. Admittedly, I've gone through the same process and have found myself asking the same questions repetitively to my peers, seeking the same bit of reassurance and proving I also have a moral code for which I instinctively try to abide by.
Where does this underlying sense of morality come from, and why do we continue to incessantly subject ourselves to it? I've thought about this question for many months, and although I can list out the possible influences, the truth is that I just don't know. Parental guidance, religious influences, family environment, teachers, life experiences, media. How much is taken away from each, and at what point did we simply start to accept the morals we've acquired without question? Going on a slight tangent, I've had discussions with friends about my personal experience with the Christian religion before and about the use of guilt as a tool to humble thy selves before God and repent, asking for forgiveness. It's all a little depressing to me, living life subjected to the wills of a higher being other than yourself, but who am I to judge. I still struggle in coping with the resentment I harbor towards it, but I'm gradually realizing the guilt I feel may be coming from a different source entirely. Regardless, my morals were primarily rooted in the religion I was born and raised in, Christianity, but obviously there were other factors at play as well. Because of this, I'm still intrigued when encountering an agnostic or atheist friend who's inflicted with the same or sometimes even higher guilty conscience which I possess. I wonder. Where did their moral code originate from instead? It's quite a mystery to me still how powerfully our morals can drive us to behave in certain ways and propel us to continually make decisions based on our own tailored perception of what is "good". How often do we stop and reevaluate why we even care to do such good deeds? Are there actual reasons behind them, or are we simply following the expectations set by the world around us? I like to think the common driving factor for our actions are based on whatever generates a greater sense of fulfillment in our lives, fulfillment being defined in the internal sense and not one based on physicality. What I've recently realized is these actions may not line up with our perceptions of what is morally right or good. Dare I say there may be no correlation at all. Next time you're feeling guilty for wanting to be selfish in life at the expense of others, realize that the guilt stems from the dissonance between your proposed actions and morals. Try not to let it get in the way. We may feel like a "bad" person, but why is it we're expected to always be "good"? The guilt we feel internally is a conditioned response based on growing up in a world where we're taught to be good people who do good things. I want to deconstruct this idea with the intention of reconstructing it from scratch and reevaluating whether the outcome remains the same.
I remember learning in Anthropology that our world is filled with dyadic oppositions, and it is so true. Black/white, left/right, down/up, cold/hot, female/male, night/day, homo/hetero, bad/good, wrong/right, hell/heaven, and the list goes on. From the moment we're born, we're conditioned to think in pairs. Our minds were trained to categorize actions into rights versus wrongs where one is considered better, higher, or stronger than the other. The ultimate truth is that the world is very gray, constantly evolving and changing, filled with exceptions, irregular, and nonuniform. The world cannot be broken down into two parts, yet we're always trying to in order to make sense of it all. When there isn't two sides to choose from, people may feel lost, confused, and without direction. We're raised always believing one is better than the other when in reality, they're both just very different. Every situation is surrounded by so much context, and we need to get in the habit of spending more time studying this context to help us gauge the bigger picture. If you ever find yourself judging another person based on your own morality, think again. Take into consideration what their moral code book is comprised of and whether they're honoring it. If they are, then they're simply following the rules just like we all are, doing what they're meant to do, and being true to themselves.
I'm currently trying to eliminate the words "should" and "shouldn't" from my vocabulary, particularly around the topic of morals. When people ask for my opinion on whether they're acting in a bad way, my answer will always be no, because quite frankly, it doesn't matter. Feeling guilty about our own bad behavior implies the belief that we're meant to only do good things in the world. All our actions are preceded by a need which seeks fulfillment. Sometimes the act of fulfilling this need will fall into the good category, and sometimes it just won't. Categorizing one's actions into good versus bad becomes irrelevant for this reason. Meanwhile, my conscience is now warning me about the situations where others are hurt as a result of someone fulfilling their individual needs, and I'm tempted to declare them as being wrong. After all, I'm also a victim of my own morals, but I'll refrain from saying anything more and simply leave it at that.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
A Cry For Yelp
I recently submitted feedback to Yelp about my frustration with first-to-reviewers who post reviews on restaurants and have never eaten at yet alone stepped a single foot inside the place. They do it for the potential chance at popularity, for the virtual badges which makes their virtual selves feel special. They want others to recognize their resourcefulness and for being so in-the-know of the latest and greatest local eats in the neighborhood. Because without the recognition or acknowledgment by others, they feel indifferent with taking the time to write anything. Their motivation to write reviews is proporational to the number of people reading them. I understand this and don't think there's anything wrong with the mentality. We're only human after all, and we all like to feel important. However, it doesn't justify peoples' actions to fulfill this need by claiming a first-to-review in which they didn't earn. This is a problem.
I complained to Yelp and got a curt response back from someone named Gail. Quite frankly, I'm too apathetic these days to care. Instead of following up with Gail, I'm posting our little exchange below as a means to archive this moment of brief yet empowering frustration.
I complained to Yelp and got a curt response back from someone named Gail. Quite frankly, I'm too apathetic these days to care. Instead of following up with Gail, I'm posting our little exchange below as a means to archive this moment of brief yet empowering frustration.
Hi,
Thank you for contacting Yelp about this business listing.
While the business may not be open, often the first reviews provide some useful information about the soon-to-be-open business. However, we may eventually remove reviews if they are not updated after the business has opened.
Regards,
Gail
Yelp User Support
San Francisco, California
------------------------------------
dannlee@gmail.com
Yelp! Feedback: Ideas to improve Yelp
Comments:
--------------------------------
It happens all the time. For the sake of snatching the "First to review" badge, people review a restaurant they have neither eaten at let alone stepped into. The restaurants are not even open yet for goodness sake. I cry bullshit!
As a fellow Yelp user and reviewer, I find this incredibly frustrating. Achieving "First to review" is certainly a privilege and a reward in itself. It's a raw first impression without the influences of previous reviewers who've posted before you. I find value in knowing what this impression was. Instead, I find a meaningless to-be-reviewed note left by an attention-seeking individual who misinterpreted the concept of "First to review" as "First to leave an arbitrary comment against a new business not yet in the system". I understand the need to incentivize your reviewers to urgently post their thoughts, thus by adding to your growing wealth of user information. But come on! How about enforcing some basic criteria? Let's start with #1: You must have eaten here!
Friday, June 19, 2009
Horoscope insight
"You have been feeling frustrated lately but today is the day to let it out. Call up a couple of friends and go out. Do not feel inhibited, let out your frustrations in your own unique way. If you are fed up with being single, the romantic scene eagerly awaits for you to try it out. It will require you to be open-minded and ready to try new things and go to new places but do not forget to enjoy yourself. However, you have been neglecting your financial obligations. Due to concentrating too much on personal matters, you have missed out on investment opportunities and the profits that come along with it. Do not assume that these matters will fix themselves; your constant input is required."
Friday, May 08, 2009
Cabinet Inspiration
today, i accompanied jinah alongside with jason to her recently purchased condo just a tad north of seattle. the place was huge, but that's not what this journal entry is about. the timing couldn't have been any better. turns out she's now presented with a pretty amazing opportunity to remodel her entire kitchen due to a water leak that hasn't been taken care of behind the wall. everything needed to be replaced essentially. as a result, she's been allocated a generous budget to renovate the entire kitchen with replacement fixtures, cabinets, flooring, etc. amazing, if you ask me. so one of the things we did today was go shopping for new kitchen cabinets. oh boy, here we go.
at the place where she picked out cabinets, it was initially a woman named Nancy that was assisting. a bit later on, she was replaced by, Paul, the floor manager for 10+ years. i never met a man more knowledgeable about cabinets. my first impression was he's super friendly, quick, intelligent, extremely thorough, and passionate. although i hadn't met many people in the cabinet or lumber business, my feelings of him wouldn't be any different. my thought process went something like this:
it's funny. i seek inspiration, and it's passion that inspires me, even when that passion is exhibited by other people. i like that i can feel inspired in the most unexpected settings by the most unexpected people. a cabinet/wood specialist who's been in the business for over 20+ years is not someone i'd ever have thought to be inspired by, but i was. it's days like these that make me feel special, like i have a very unique perspective on life. sometimes i daydream about having superhuman abilities, like i can see things that other people can't, and some days i believe that more than others. today, i felt that i was appreciating a simple beauty in life. life is usually transformed based on what i make of it. the mind is such a powerful tool, and lately i've been learning how to utilize mine better and better.
so thank you, friendly kitchen cabinet/wood specialist floor manager guy. you've inspired me without even being aware of it, which inevitably happens to be my favorite kind of inspiration.
at the place where she picked out cabinets, it was initially a woman named Nancy that was assisting. a bit later on, she was replaced by, Paul, the floor manager for 10+ years. i never met a man more knowledgeable about cabinets. my first impression was he's super friendly, quick, intelligent, extremely thorough, and passionate. although i hadn't met many people in the cabinet or lumber business, my feelings of him wouldn't be any different. my thought process went something like this:
- "this guy really knows what he's talking about."
- "i wonder how can he retain so much knowledge about cabinets and wood."
- "his attention to detail is awesome."
- "i love that he provides incredibly detailed reasons to support his personal conclusions around cabinets and wood."
- "i love that he lays down context through history, knowing that it's a key component to understanding the current choices we have today."
- "i'm learning so much just from hearing him speak. i kinda don't want him to stop."
- "damn, this guy really knows what he's talking about."
- "this is his passion, and it's inspiring."
it's funny. i seek inspiration, and it's passion that inspires me, even when that passion is exhibited by other people. i like that i can feel inspired in the most unexpected settings by the most unexpected people. a cabinet/wood specialist who's been in the business for over 20+ years is not someone i'd ever have thought to be inspired by, but i was. it's days like these that make me feel special, like i have a very unique perspective on life. sometimes i daydream about having superhuman abilities, like i can see things that other people can't, and some days i believe that more than others. today, i felt that i was appreciating a simple beauty in life. life is usually transformed based on what i make of it. the mind is such a powerful tool, and lately i've been learning how to utilize mine better and better.
so thank you, friendly kitchen cabinet/wood specialist floor manager guy. you've inspired me without even being aware of it, which inevitably happens to be my favorite kind of inspiration.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
The Truth About Unicorns
"dann, i get it. she's your unicorn..." - amy
when i reiterated this statement to friends, nobody knew what i was talking about. each attempt i made to summarize the meaning of the word "unicorn" always left me feeling dissatisfied with the explanation. i realize now that it's genuinely because it's a hard concept to describe without sounding a bit loony. it's a bit frustrating at times how i can conceptualize ideas so crystal clearly in my mind, but when trying to describe it in words, it becomes so unbelievably difficult. this is the story of my life. on the other hand, if verbal communication was easy and unchallenging, it probably won't be as interesting of a task. the irony...
i don't believe a single general definition of the term "unicorn" can be applied to all. it's unique, special, and means something slightly different to everyone. some things are best explained simply through a bit of life context. rather than crafting a general definition of what "unicorn" means, i think i need to just tell my story.
my unicorn is one particular person (a girl) from my childhood youth who within a specific time frame unknowingly ingrained a long-lasting impression on me that'll stick with me probably forever. a seed was planted, and i've since been helplessly enchanted with the idea that we're both cosmically intertwined and destined to be involved in each others lives. it's ambiguous whether this connection is meant to be shared on an intimate level versus it being carried out in a life-long evolving friendship. either way, there's just something about her that i've always found so inexplicably awe-inspiring, and i'm helplessly drawn to it. while none of this was concluded based on rational thinking, it's really just a byproduct of a few personal experiences and some intuitive observations from a distance.
in my mind, unicorns are mystical creatures, angelic and pure beings. i see their silky white coat and mane, which makes them appear majestic and absolute. there isn't an ounce of evil in their soul, and similarly, neither does it exist in my unicorn. i don't mean that literally, but more figuratively. she sits on a high pedestal where no wrong can be done while i gaze upwards in envy.
few of my close friends have heard me mention her at some point along with the various fateful events that caused us to reunite more recently. my colleague used an alternative phrase, "she's your winnie cooper!" as a supplement to my conceptualization of the term "unicorn". it made sense and was definitely analogous to what i was describing, all with one subtle difference. truthfully, my unicorn and i never officially established a friendship. my interactions with her were close to none nor did i ever hang out with her one-on-one or in a group setting. i never called her nor did i ever muster enough courage to say "hi!" to her in the hallways between class periods. i didn't know where she lived. i didn't know what type of music or movies she liked or what she did on the weekends. i simply knew who she was, and she knew who i was. we went to the same small schools with less than two hundred graduating seniors. everybody knew everybody. you see the same faces in the hallways. if you put a yearbook in front of me, i could easily speak the names of every face i see, and through circumstance, we had our random occasional run-ins. meanwhile, i secretly had an irresistible crush on her since an early age.
it's fascinating to me how i can vividly remember some of the very few specific scenarios where we've interacted. although i'd never personally inquired about her to anyone, i'd inadvertently see and hear through other people the things she involved herself in. after all, we did go to the same schools. no need to delve into those specifics, but the most significant memory i had is the experience we shared just before we departed. we connected, and we bonded. i felt it, and my heart was telling me she did too. it was a glimpse of hope that seemed to have lasted less than a millisecond in retrospect, and just like that it was gone. i didn't possess the confidence or social skills to nourish and pursue a relationship that i instinctively knew would've been special, and i didn't possess the intuition to foresee what i was giving up. i was an angry teenage recluse whose identity was in utter turmoil, all while dabbling in a bit of depression and apathy. it really couldn't have happened in any other way. so there are no regrets. instead, i'm simply left eagerly awaiting the next moment in time where our life paths will cross again.
these seemingly insignificant memories are actually the defining memories that stuck with me. after many years later, long after i had deliberately forgotten my high school past, i started randomly dreaming of her like it was some sign from above. it was truly bizarre and left me questioning its purpose. i started feeling an urge swoop over me, forcing me to retrospectively analyze my attraction towards her. i remembered her, and i remembered she was someone i genuinely respected and had deemed incredibly special. i remembered the intense yearning i felt to befriend her, get to know her, and simply be somewhat of a presence in her life. i grew determined to relieve my curiosity and ultimately reach closure despite the fact that the odds were weighing heavily against me. i've since then realized that she was always and may always be my unicorn.
there's nothing sinful, scary, or dark about it. the unicorn is not someone i'm attracted to for tangible reasons, whether it be physical or mental. it's more or less fueled by a connection felt at some point which i interpreted as genuine, even if for just a split second. it's innocent and pure like a unicorn, and i feel strangely bonded even though i hardly had a convincing reason to explain why. it sometimes feels a bit creepy, naive, and obsessed when really, it's none of the above. this is what i suppose happens when attempting to translate its meaning into words. a friend of mine refers to the word "stuck" when describing people who've entered our lives at some point whom we'll always remember. she's one of the few that "stuck" with me, and the truth is that i may never know why. she is my unicorn.
when i reiterated this statement to friends, nobody knew what i was talking about. each attempt i made to summarize the meaning of the word "unicorn" always left me feeling dissatisfied with the explanation. i realize now that it's genuinely because it's a hard concept to describe without sounding a bit loony. it's a bit frustrating at times how i can conceptualize ideas so crystal clearly in my mind, but when trying to describe it in words, it becomes so unbelievably difficult. this is the story of my life. on the other hand, if verbal communication was easy and unchallenging, it probably won't be as interesting of a task. the irony...
i don't believe a single general definition of the term "unicorn" can be applied to all. it's unique, special, and means something slightly different to everyone. some things are best explained simply through a bit of life context. rather than crafting a general definition of what "unicorn" means, i think i need to just tell my story.
my unicorn is one particular person (a girl) from my childhood youth who within a specific time frame unknowingly ingrained a long-lasting impression on me that'll stick with me probably forever. a seed was planted, and i've since been helplessly enchanted with the idea that we're both cosmically intertwined and destined to be involved in each others lives. it's ambiguous whether this connection is meant to be shared on an intimate level versus it being carried out in a life-long evolving friendship. either way, there's just something about her that i've always found so inexplicably awe-inspiring, and i'm helplessly drawn to it. while none of this was concluded based on rational thinking, it's really just a byproduct of a few personal experiences and some intuitive observations from a distance.
in my mind, unicorns are mystical creatures, angelic and pure beings. i see their silky white coat and mane, which makes them appear majestic and absolute. there isn't an ounce of evil in their soul, and similarly, neither does it exist in my unicorn. i don't mean that literally, but more figuratively. she sits on a high pedestal where no wrong can be done while i gaze upwards in envy.
few of my close friends have heard me mention her at some point along with the various fateful events that caused us to reunite more recently. my colleague used an alternative phrase, "she's your winnie cooper!" as a supplement to my conceptualization of the term "unicorn". it made sense and was definitely analogous to what i was describing, all with one subtle difference. truthfully, my unicorn and i never officially established a friendship. my interactions with her were close to none nor did i ever hang out with her one-on-one or in a group setting. i never called her nor did i ever muster enough courage to say "hi!" to her in the hallways between class periods. i didn't know where she lived. i didn't know what type of music or movies she liked or what she did on the weekends. i simply knew who she was, and she knew who i was. we went to the same small schools with less than two hundred graduating seniors. everybody knew everybody. you see the same faces in the hallways. if you put a yearbook in front of me, i could easily speak the names of every face i see, and through circumstance, we had our random occasional run-ins. meanwhile, i secretly had an irresistible crush on her since an early age.
it's fascinating to me how i can vividly remember some of the very few specific scenarios where we've interacted. although i'd never personally inquired about her to anyone, i'd inadvertently see and hear through other people the things she involved herself in. after all, we did go to the same schools. no need to delve into those specifics, but the most significant memory i had is the experience we shared just before we departed. we connected, and we bonded. i felt it, and my heart was telling me she did too. it was a glimpse of hope that seemed to have lasted less than a millisecond in retrospect, and just like that it was gone. i didn't possess the confidence or social skills to nourish and pursue a relationship that i instinctively knew would've been special, and i didn't possess the intuition to foresee what i was giving up. i was an angry teenage recluse whose identity was in utter turmoil, all while dabbling in a bit of depression and apathy. it really couldn't have happened in any other way. so there are no regrets. instead, i'm simply left eagerly awaiting the next moment in time where our life paths will cross again.
these seemingly insignificant memories are actually the defining memories that stuck with me. after many years later, long after i had deliberately forgotten my high school past, i started randomly dreaming of her like it was some sign from above. it was truly bizarre and left me questioning its purpose. i started feeling an urge swoop over me, forcing me to retrospectively analyze my attraction towards her. i remembered her, and i remembered she was someone i genuinely respected and had deemed incredibly special. i remembered the intense yearning i felt to befriend her, get to know her, and simply be somewhat of a presence in her life. i grew determined to relieve my curiosity and ultimately reach closure despite the fact that the odds were weighing heavily against me. i've since then realized that she was always and may always be my unicorn.
there's nothing sinful, scary, or dark about it. the unicorn is not someone i'm attracted to for tangible reasons, whether it be physical or mental. it's more or less fueled by a connection felt at some point which i interpreted as genuine, even if for just a split second. it's innocent and pure like a unicorn, and i feel strangely bonded even though i hardly had a convincing reason to explain why. it sometimes feels a bit creepy, naive, and obsessed when really, it's none of the above. this is what i suppose happens when attempting to translate its meaning into words. a friend of mine refers to the word "stuck" when describing people who've entered our lives at some point whom we'll always remember. she's one of the few that "stuck" with me, and the truth is that i may never know why. she is my unicorn.
Friday, May 01, 2009
A Time For Change
lately, i've been feeling the urge to simply "run away".
back when i was young, i had many moments where i just wanted to leave and get as far away as possible, and in some cases, i actually did leave the house. granted, it was never very far or long, and it was usually a direct result of a huge fight between my mom and i. still it felt unbelievably empowering to consciously make the decision to leave followed by a feeling of liberation once i did leave. of course it always ended with me feeling sheepish and stupid because the reality back then was that i had nowhere to go. i'd eventually end up back at home, ultimately surrendering myself to the dependency i had to my parent's home, to their money, to their cars, to their presence and their love. it was an incredibly defeating feeling, being trapped in a world that i hated and one that i felt powerless to change, the world being a reference to my individual life. i had no sense of real purpose or motivation. life was a routine of endless turmoil. i constantly sought solace and comfort in the one place i desperately needed to get away from, although i hadn't realized this yet at the time. home...
there was a lot of freedom, easily being able to waste countless hours watching tv or playing video games till dawn. it was comfortable, and it was easy. i didn't need to talk to anyone. i didn't need to think about anything i didn't want to think about. i didn't need to probe and explain my emotions. i didn't need to uphold deep conversations nor did i need to force myself to understand anything outside of the realm of my current understanding. overall, i never had to really challenge myself.this is what "comfortable" represents to me, and it is my biggest vice.
achieving comfort is great. remaining comfortable is not. a prolonged state of comfort paralyzes me, my way of life, and it's what thwarts my climb to reach greater heights. it makes me lazy and complacent with people, with experiences, with life. i've come a long way since those teenage years feeling trapped in my parent's house. back then, i had no choice. there was no way to free myself. now, i'm completely free, completely self-sufficient and independent. yet, over and over, i find myself ending up back in the same home, only this time, "home" isn't a physical place. instead it's people, friends, a job, a routine lifestyle. if i had only known back then that this feeling of complacency was never about an actual place but more an established routine, it would've saved me some bitterness.
here i am now, living in sf, possessing many components that people can sometimes perceive as being part of the equation for happiness. yet, my heart still feels unfulfilled and discontent with the feeling growing even stronger as a direct result of the "comfort" that i've built around myself. i've been hanging out with the same people, doing the same things, talking about the same things, and working the same job. i'm desperate for change, and i get flashes of moments where i wish i could just run away from everything and leave it all behind without looking back. i need new inspiration, new people, and new experiences to feed the undying hunger for which i know will inevitably keep coming back, over and over again.
i feel empty and i need new nourishment. lately, i haven't consciously been setting time out for myself. as a direct result, i'm constantly feeling exhausted, tired, overwhelmed, and drained. i'm constantly running on a low to near empty tank, never able to refill it up more than halfway. from the myers briggs, i was always in between an introvert and extrovert, meaning i switch from one to the other. if i took the exam again, i'd expect to come out a pretty strong introvert. that side of me has been deprived for several months now, and i'm now at a point where i desperately seek solitude.
i'm currently struggling to accept the undeniable possibility that my heart may never feel fully content, ever. it's a hard truth to swallow and embrace. it's admitting to myself that i'll always see a light at the end of the tunnel without ever being able to physically reach it. now is just another point in my life where the end tunnel light has gradually faded slightly further and further away. time to start walking again...
time to run away... again
back when i was young, i had many moments where i just wanted to leave and get as far away as possible, and in some cases, i actually did leave the house. granted, it was never very far or long, and it was usually a direct result of a huge fight between my mom and i. still it felt unbelievably empowering to consciously make the decision to leave followed by a feeling of liberation once i did leave. of course it always ended with me feeling sheepish and stupid because the reality back then was that i had nowhere to go. i'd eventually end up back at home, ultimately surrendering myself to the dependency i had to my parent's home, to their money, to their cars, to their presence and their love. it was an incredibly defeating feeling, being trapped in a world that i hated and one that i felt powerless to change, the world being a reference to my individual life. i had no sense of real purpose or motivation. life was a routine of endless turmoil. i constantly sought solace and comfort in the one place i desperately needed to get away from, although i hadn't realized this yet at the time. home...
there was a lot of freedom, easily being able to waste countless hours watching tv or playing video games till dawn. it was comfortable, and it was easy. i didn't need to talk to anyone. i didn't need to think about anything i didn't want to think about. i didn't need to probe and explain my emotions. i didn't need to uphold deep conversations nor did i need to force myself to understand anything outside of the realm of my current understanding. overall, i never had to really challenge myself.this is what "comfortable" represents to me, and it is my biggest vice.
achieving comfort is great. remaining comfortable is not. a prolonged state of comfort paralyzes me, my way of life, and it's what thwarts my climb to reach greater heights. it makes me lazy and complacent with people, with experiences, with life. i've come a long way since those teenage years feeling trapped in my parent's house. back then, i had no choice. there was no way to free myself. now, i'm completely free, completely self-sufficient and independent. yet, over and over, i find myself ending up back in the same home, only this time, "home" isn't a physical place. instead it's people, friends, a job, a routine lifestyle. if i had only known back then that this feeling of complacency was never about an actual place but more an established routine, it would've saved me some bitterness.
here i am now, living in sf, possessing many components that people can sometimes perceive as being part of the equation for happiness. yet, my heart still feels unfulfilled and discontent with the feeling growing even stronger as a direct result of the "comfort" that i've built around myself. i've been hanging out with the same people, doing the same things, talking about the same things, and working the same job. i'm desperate for change, and i get flashes of moments where i wish i could just run away from everything and leave it all behind without looking back. i need new inspiration, new people, and new experiences to feed the undying hunger for which i know will inevitably keep coming back, over and over again.
i feel empty and i need new nourishment. lately, i haven't consciously been setting time out for myself. as a direct result, i'm constantly feeling exhausted, tired, overwhelmed, and drained. i'm constantly running on a low to near empty tank, never able to refill it up more than halfway. from the myers briggs, i was always in between an introvert and extrovert, meaning i switch from one to the other. if i took the exam again, i'd expect to come out a pretty strong introvert. that side of me has been deprived for several months now, and i'm now at a point where i desperately seek solitude.
i'm currently struggling to accept the undeniable possibility that my heart may never feel fully content, ever. it's a hard truth to swallow and embrace. it's admitting to myself that i'll always see a light at the end of the tunnel without ever being able to physically reach it. now is just another point in my life where the end tunnel light has gradually faded slightly further and further away. time to start walking again...
time to run away... again
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Never Enough Time
there really isn't enough time to blog, and i hate it. i'm experiencing so much, mentally and emotionally, and all i wish is for a few hours to sit down and log it. there just really isn't enough time in a day, and my personal journal is hurting. it's missing some extremely critical and pivotal moments in my life.
this is becoming a big goal of mine this week. i'm going to explicitly make time out for this at least a few nights a week, even if it means secluding myself away from people and friends. it's the only way.
to be continued...
this is becoming a big goal of mine this week. i'm going to explicitly make time out for this at least a few nights a week, even if it means secluding myself away from people and friends. it's the only way.
to be continued...
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