C a r o l y n ' s D i a r y diary.carolyn.org
|be warned: this is my diary... clb||page 35|
I awake from dreams this night of endless trials and troubles. It surprised me that my thought lead through what disturbs me in the daylight. I'll wake up out of this dream stupor shortly I suppose.
Purrrr. Reading back through my own writings just now has perked me up. Wonderful thoughts are hidden in amongst poetic rambling. b I'd like to thank myself for this.
I want to establish that I amenjoying my life in some sense. There are indications that I might not be especially in what I write. The reflections of my mind lead indeed into sad places. I am just not practiced in being a person alive and free. I expect that theboundaries that used to be are there when they are not. A reaction arose in me to the rate of change in my life. I wanted a steadier plane to rest on. I think back now and see that I wanted and wnat a friendlier ife full of warmth and companionship more often than I have created. Except with Peter and for awhile with Tracey.
Seeking more friendly warm places leaves me full of energy.
It might seem remarkable - it does tome as I learn the conventions of a society without a rulebook - that the office and the person are not the same in me any longer. It took some pretty elaborate circumstances to teach me this. I've wondered how people can deliver the person hurting blows that so easily occur socially. Now I see that even many social roles - like spouse or friend - are often offices. The person need not show up at all in the interaction. The truth-functional tendency to be aware of one's own universe as a geek instead of a strategist has travelled with me even up to now. I so much enjoyed doing a final beta test on a site yesterday - especially as compared with the other things I do. The feeling of living in an abstract that was created to be interesting and informative made me relax.
We had our company picnic this past Sunday - incredibly fun. There were about 40 people all told making for some really fun sports - it was a little too cold to swim in the lake. I really liked the feeling of cooperating that arose in being a part of team. I even scored once- the first time in my life. It was remarkablethat in trying to help the team, I was also personally satisfied. I am going to pursue team things for awhile.
And in my efforts to be more social and warm, I had lunch with a charming woman who wrote to me here. I found her to be fun and life embracing. She reminds me a little of Kathleen which is tremendous. Social facilitation is only a plus in my eyes. Speaking of which, I am training sales personnel today, and must soon rush off to the office. Hmm.
Overall I guess, airing me out is very positive. I will push much more in this direction. I am learning.
I wonder really how my life will be in the future. What is there in me that will cause what I might want to happen? Is it sufficient? And what do I want really? At themoment it is happiness and harmony with a little success mixed in. I've been a little depressed yesterday and again this morning. So I'm staying away from an office that is rescheduled around me a little at least for a few hours. perhaps I should travel away far away inthose few hours towards the dreams others hold onto. Perhaps ther is a way to this place of memory and satisfaction that I do not know.
Looking around me, I have not yet unpacked since moving. I am motivated almost solely by improving FSC and spending my energy there in creation. Did God create other things while creating the universe, or was that one big thing more than sufficient? :) I've always found Peter's translations of the ordinary into mystico-speak entertaining. He usually tacks on a note about operationalisation. So I'll do so too.
[ Wait. A scream in my head. The depression peaks out at me more directly for as I type I feel a little better - t he turmoil threads into a knowability it was without before. And it panics. Good. ]
Energies from the edges of space/time appear in imagination where freedom is easiest and peace possible. I remember once explaining to a friend named Mark that being outside of society was more fun. He looked at me with puzzlement. An educated and intelligent man, he could not imagine where outside could be, how it could be at all. I tried to give him a picture of what outsiders see when they look in. I'm no longer an outsider. Only outsiders know the difference. From inside, they look only like poor insiders. There is no outside. Everyone is fair game to advertising from the inside - so we think. I know this is wrong.
I've been thinking about the social nature of human, about what is needed to make us feel good together. [I know that this is a tangent sent to me from the dperession for it is less satisfying to write about suddenly. I'll persist though.] [Many journalists have described my writing as poetic. I find this feedback terribly interesting for it is not to me. I am writing what I truly see and feel - from the outside. From their inside, they cannot really know that the world can look like this. But of course they do try to know.] What we need to feel good together is a sense of comradery or a shared goal. That' pretty well it. Of course there are so many things that might count against good feelings as well, but they can be ignored or worked out. One book I'm reading talks about the need for talk about our social world. Gossip, soap operas, analysis of who we are, and who our friends are. I think this is true. [I think this is what is missing in the relationship I have with Richard - any talk at all about matters social. He acts alone on this as far as I can tell. I'm going to chat with him about htis over lunch!]
Social remains my quest's boon. I shall continue with head held up. When I'm ... God how easy it was to elevate my feelings from solemn sadness to enthusiastic fucking verve. Like I took a drug - writing just feels good. Clarifying or focusing. Focusing.
I look over my life thinking about the possibilities inherent in being human. Why is my life like it is and not different in some way? I think this is one of those questions which is both foolish and sincerely interesting. Why do my decisions add up to me? No, that is badly phrased. Why have I made these decisions? What is it about me that makes these decisions make the most sense to me?
What a collection of nature / nuture bullshit. I am what I am, and can be what I can change myself into. Is there more than that? People around me are are using the mantra of last week - the future starts today. No sunk costs. And then another friend it seems coincidently wrote that there are indeed sunk costs in friendships. Cliches flying by my ears. When you are 30+ years old, nature / nuture are not the only sources of you. There is also you, and your life that has meandered and bubbled by from the high mountains down into the tundra towards the coastlines senility.. Yuck... what a metaphor.
So here I am, dreadfully and wonderfully responsible for who I am currently. Am I not aware that tomorrow will be the creature of today? Causality rules. So cause wisely. Humbly. And promptly. C'est la vie.
Holding onto the thought that will take me deeper into who I am. What is it?
I am a person who has become a surface, convincing people that the solid interior is reliable mostly. The truth, ah the truth, is that where a solid should be there feels like an absense. From the outside of my skin I am not who writes here. This amounts to very little any more though as I ...
I'm sad really because I live alone. I never wnated to generally. I don't really like the idea of living with other people though, at the same time. I suppose somehow this will makesense to me later on. I am just too lazy to make a nice home for myself without someone else here? I bet it is pretty common not to care as much about he niceties of comfort when one is alone. Comforts are often social gestures, and none of my friends care to make much of a social gesture in this light at all. Why only me? I once thought it would be wonderful to have people coming by just because of the inviting environment. Now I believe that the environment takes a lot of support to create in that way, and I am instead creating a business environment. Not both at once. Too much.
So I am living alone. I just had a nice long Saturday morning bath. A good book, China Mountain Zhang, and some vegetarian shrink wrap food and I am pondering whether to bother at all today int he socialityof the world or whether instead to putter around here in my furniture free zone. What negative motive will win out? Are there positive alternatives? Should I get all dressed up to go furniture not-buying again? Shall I wander in to teh office to work for awhile? Perhaps pretending to sunbathe on this cloudy day will be dull enough to lull my senses into calm. Really What would be more positive when I don't feel I will ever be invited into others' lives - positive ones anyway.
You get back what you give. Give a little. Depression wars with desire to do so. Tangles woven of straw and dust.
Maybe I'll read a little more of a truly intersting book about the dumb luck good willed people live by.
There really are cliches running amok. Today I think I would rather express in a different medium to escape them a little bit. Doesn't language consist in using a combinationof htese, some really familiar, some regular, and some new. But as I am engrossed in the former, the rest elude me and along float only the crustiest of words. An attempt to keep me from getting into things a little more.
Soemtimes people write me sending incredible letters of detail and depth. Honest openings. I wish I could always be so in touch with things. Really learn about myself. And today, I gues I don't have the drive to. I did make my place a little nicer, rearranging some of the floor coverings- these pass for furniture so far. I've used my wealth to create a company. When do I play consumer with it? Maybe soon.I should bring out my phones, and dishes, and put the plants in nicer spots. I wish we could all write these open letters to each other forever. What holds us back now that literacy is spread thorughout the world inhigh percentage. Teach the people to read and the Internet is born. Teach them to think, and what? I can't wait.
a little later: crying a little. I had hoped that friendship with Richard was not so incredibly tenuous that he cannot see when he has hurt me. How can I be friends with a dog person anyway? I'm sure this will blow over, but for a little while today it will hurt.
Why can't I remember things anyway? Must my life continually be circomscribed by this blindness? I don't know what happened, when, with whom and why. Really what is the point of doing things one cannot remember. I know I take away the effects of things. I have opinions about them and then poof, no idea why - just a strong sense of trust in mypast self. I cannot actually re-evaluate my past pieces too well, I guess. I wonder what they were.
Under other circumstances, what would I have been like? Would I have attracted positive and warm people instead of needy bastards, people with shallow social standards who live in their own heads and others' too much? Fine.
music throbbing from above.
tensions in my throat where the crying is held in
a desire not to cheer up not to use the chemicals that fighting lets out
still throbbing hurting who I am a little - why music
sordid hope that someone will come along putting me under a wing to rest for awhile
forever relaxed in safety
analysing the breeder mentality
slowly adding html tags into the past
why must it be about breeding and not about something less biological
it isn't for me
aren't there others who care beyond sex and children for the other possibilities
staring inwards never leads to somewhere truly surprising
but what more
music stops for a moment
cold and wet day is a downer maybe it is the reasonI cannot smile now
what indeed would make my life better
fuck metaphysics, I want external life too
but where there are possibilities that lead into a new terrain ... what the fuck am I writing about - tangential escape - try more
what I want... smiling faces directed at me. a will to smile back. furniture and people to visit me. a feelilng of flying inside me. disembodiment - brain in vat is too corporeal. warmth from the furnace which my landlord doesn't turn on today. a georgeous guy who is also wise and sweet, and tidy and successful. a lower intelligence or stronger will. true enjoyment in making decision instead of the feeling of accomplishing something hard. a dirct jack into the computer. to meet the author of that terrific book and find her as interesting. more warmth. some workable of talkingto others without hurting inside from fear that they won't notice me. it goes on. But what of these things would make me feel good anyway
I need to decide to feel good - back to metaphysics
my Tracey withdrawal continues
where is the comfort she sought if not in my mind
truth to tell I am alone because incommon speak I want to be so
others pull together and I do not in the end do so when I could do so
almost as if I wanted to be alone thoguh I do not
there is a lesson in me somewhere that being alive is never fully satisfying
I think I've figured that out
I hate the shallow examples around me - where are the intersting people
anger so much anger at Richard still that is not a warm person I need to find a warm person somehwere - all over the place
the end of this bullshit respectless ranting that leads nowhere
Do things really change in a social environment?
It is late, and I should finish getting ready for the office. But for just a moment I want to step out of the day, and into my life. Funny the difference.
I'm balancing changing my social life once again back towards warm and friendly things and away from the cool and austere. High backed uncomfortable chairs and a serious look. There are things we shouldn't wish for I guess. I childhood wonder at the cool people. I guess I no longer have that sense and must be one instead. Time out.
Fun and enjoyment must really also lead somewhere. I suspect that is where many people have wondered too, those apart from the breeders. I seem to have moved into quite the perfect neighbourhood. It is filled in the evening with people having fun, making plans, meeting each other - a successful person neighbourhood without the suburbs. A city neighbourhood with nice trees.
I'll work my way into this. So there was an election her ein Canada last night. I have no idea yet who won. SOmehow this seems important givent he radically strange parties that are included in the mix. Two parties that want the whole country to fracture through hatred or ecomonic foolishness, for instance, lead me to believe that politics will be more interesting from here on in.
My life consists of tensions between the people I am closest to. They are pulling in an awkward pattern today. I'll see if I can't withstand it for yet another day.
Filling the world with vision and commitment. I shall try this some more.
A site of journal reviews.
A five am cruise through the snoozing web. Email flame wars and letters from several friends. An outreaching of spirit to create more basket lining and wide strands woven through old worn spots - as a person, all the eggs of one's life are in that basket. People are investment portfolios in which diverification is difficult but rewarding.
Energy emerging from teh market forces leads on to surprisingly positive developments. I am become a business person. Ooops.
Slowly winding my way out of sleep in to the sunnier day at hand. A small blossoming and I will want some coffee even slower. I've been meandering through the possibility trees looking for the rhythm and energy of life to hold onto more closely running on with a sigh. What is the answer - a question allowed by the grammatical footprints of other questions, but lacking a real referent. It is good to know these things. Perhaps over education is not a blow to the ego - to mine - anymore.
Some say that people ought to enjoy their lives. Others say that ambition is true to the spirit we are born with. Contentment on the frontier is impossible, says me back. Choose your path. Then I look closer. When I was younger, I realized that I could strive to have several positives which most people were chosing between. I wanted to retain these despite the seemingly natural dichotomy. Intelligence need not be hidden. Look need not be dampened. I was right it seems, and the bravery that led to my being in an eggshell longer than others led to a greater hatching than those prophesying would let on to. I sit in front of another dichotomy, and could as easily again choose both. Should I invest again in longer term solutions? Or should I cash in now in one of those witht he cost of losing the other, perhaps for ever? I know which way I'll go.
The world seems full of people who think I am to be rescued. Heh. Amusing. I wonder that they can think that without noticing the dispareties in this opinion? [This is the sort of sentence which creates feedback loops in these people always. Watch now for the firework reactions.]
Several strands of hope follow me into the day today. I shall be off to a workshop on creating short film. Neat.
A shower is in my future - sigh.
It's later out now. I guess a day has passed although I am not sure it should count.
It is for times like right now that I am really writing. There are almost voices, really just loud thoughts echoing across thunderclouds in my mind. A dialogue between them suggesting life will never be fundamentally different for me - suggesting that happiness is an attitude I could adopt. The latter pushes through giving birth to energetic positive doings. The former calling to teh knife in the kitchen or a car on the road to take awareness away. tv, booze, sex, books, something to dull the loneliness and fear of contact - I have none of these to feel good with. Hatred treading awfully close to misery. Holding out a shred of undignified hope that someone will love me again - anything but being alone.
I recognize one of hte voices - this was who I was entirely while growing up. Waiting for it to be over. Either people would embrace me again, or I would die. "Again" Why did I think that then too, when it was without precedent then? I want to ...
[ A logon: A little hope creeped in here, and then went away again. I thought he might be logging on to the computer here to see if I was ok, but he is only reading the news. He nows I am here dying of aloneness and still he stays silent. I scream in the agony of aloneness just as it was then. SIlent people who swore they cared about me expressing no feelings at all of love or caring. I never spoke with them again - not ever since. For this, they can live without one of their children. ]
The energy from that other voice would make me impervious to others. It would see me freed from a need to be hugged. Instead a complete detachment would be in order. I would end up surfing through life without concern for touching another emotionally. Freed up of the psychological bonds that make me me, I would become the social nightmare that most people seem to be. Let me out of this chemical bottle.
I guess the question becomes why I don't live with Peter, why I haven't found someone instead, why the thing with Tracey near a year ago now didn't work, why I am alone and fraid to talk with others when I create the opportunity too. Why do I need a hug? Is being a human being not sufficient to answer this? Why should I stifen my upper lip to bear this aloneness? The fact that people are only attracted to successes (or failures who might benefit from being saved) seems to bear little relation. People find me interesting enough. I don't find what I need though. Must life be usually fundamentally lonely? Must I reach to machines instead?
Why don't I call people? because too often they aren't interested anyway. I don't know the conventions of doing it successfully in any predictable way. I think the crying is winning tonight as room for the belief that someone might just try to talk with me grows ever smaller.
Carey dropped by yesterday to organize a drive in movie going. We saw ConAir. Scarey character in that one. Not someone I'd like to meet ever really.
Some things seem to get to me. Getting dressed inthemorning. If I were totally in shape and found the mirror reflection easy to look at, things would be good. But I'm not. And I fiddle with clothes and mirrors sometimtes for a moment with a tried and true look, and sometimes for an hour trying to invent a look that will fit me. I want to look slender and trim. I formed by body image before fully maturing, I suspect, and have never forgiven the universe for hips. I guess I ought not to be too bothered since the end result seems generally within the range of attractive. But you know.
Like happiness, my looks have peeked and troughed over the years and now are sort of neutral. What must one do to have happiness and satisfction generally?
I might wonder away for a weekend shortly with ... I'll tell later! Right now the plans are only starting. What a nice thought though.
Trying to make sense of everything while submerged. Light refracted through the small details of images great and wonderful.
Writing here is bullshit. Time for a meltdown - privacy for awhile probably.
As life accumulates, more as I continue to be alive, some things become less easy. I've always heard about people growing stuck in their ways, of adopting more conservative views as they change, of it being harder to learn later in life. I've been sceptical, and really as a young person, I guess I should have been.
I've often wondered about this hardening of the attitudes, as Tracey put it. What can be done to avoid it? Should anything be done? Is it serving a useful social role? (Keeping one's acquired territory from the youngsters, perhaps?) Or is it derived from more biological derivatives, and is simply difficult to avoid individually, and hence impossible to avoid en masse statiistically?
Will the idealism of youth be replaced no matter what with the conservatism of the middle-aged folks saying "This is the way it shall be (mumbled under the breath: because this is what I know and am comfortable with)"? I'd like to think not. But isn't that the point? I'd like to think not because I am still sceptical about this as inevitable.
Do I have to become stuffy? Or am I already? Are the decisions I'm making already based on a value sustem that looks stodgy to younger people? Is this problem inevitable in so far as the generations have different value systems? I would suspect this as a factor too.
The truly inevitable question: But what about me? How should I decide things so as both to be idealistic and positive, and to be representative of something stable and constructive - a builder? Richard said to me that we shouldn't try so much to make FSC a paradise, just a good place to work. I'll have to think about htis. I want it to be a paradise for me, at least. I don't feel especially selfish about paradise since my view of paradise includes other people too. Being happy in their things in their views of paradise. I guess I am left wondering why we shouldn't want to create paradise. For everyone. Beyond th efact that it might not be cost effective - although I suspect it just might be. :)
So what about me...
Several times, I'm thinking about the lack of memory that confounds my life. The non-accumulation inside of conscious control. There is something in me though that draws on structural similarities. I look into myself for the same pattern elsewhere - what it tells me. I think these come from anything and especailly plants and buildings and mathematics and logic. These have the most clear structures - and obviously none are systematically complex. So now I wonder that the systematicity I am not bothering to record might not be the storehouse of the social information I cannot see. "Just another theory."
Little pieces of me that I do not share but could. So I'll do so.
I spent yesterday at home reaeding the whole day. I am much more relaxed than previously.There are things that for the first time ever I cannot write about here. Confidentiality binds my tongue - which is quite a pleasure as a change. I will try to think out in private what to do in these issues.
Reading non-stop for a day without the need to fiddle with clothing or hair or other social niceties was princely. Just as casual Fridays are a bit relaxing, so too we could have casual weekends. No extra effort beyond your bathrobe. Right.
I'm going through a struggle about being a person and being a social person. The social person I am doesn't notice most of the moves that are being made. I naively jump into and out of hte dance. Were I to notice these things, I am afraid people would find me the oposite of what they think I am. Where I am blunt and straight forward now, I would appear subtle beyond calculating, manipulative and extremely politically motivated - as I am so.
Political motivations are beautiful to me. Sweeping majestically across many minds to entrance differences in united actions. Moving a belief this way to accommodate an altering movement. Change happens through unifying vagueness and accomplished wonderment.
I simply announce whatI think should happen and let thngs blow up. This is not my own choice. I simply forget to add this extra consideration in while acting. Always. I shall maneuver to hold more levels at one time in my mind.
The interaction, if possible, of the social and psychological parts of a person seems optimal. I thik Peter is doing this these days. I'd like to. First though back to getting to the point where I can see these things. How shall I do that though? They are truly invisible to me. Experiment? Poking in the dark? Assumptions that if I do it loudly enough others will simply follow my lead? That isn't true though sometimes it works. Exploration probably. I stay so very isolated much of the time and this is probably the complete issue. It feels mostly good to me to spend large parts of time alone.
Just another childhood legacy. Time to add options.
It might seem that I am building something of value with my life n conventional terms. It does so to me really. What can one do in a lifetime? Almost anything one sets out to do. But what should that be?
I've wondered this since reaching adulthood. Only recently have I started to feel as if the keys of the world were mine to use too. So I do. The world is there as others have made it. And me, as others have made me - and myself too. So here I am several years after arbitrarily starting to pursue one direciton over several others. We make decisions and I, it seems have made several. No longer can I state that I am able to undue without loss. Funny how in a meeting last week, a fellow reacted as if being unmarried and unfamilied was a negative. I thought his having these was equally a negative in terms of flexability and dynamicism. The world amuses me so very much.
What draws you to another person? Similarities seem popular. Radical differences seem likely. What else? Respect, understanding, admiration, greed. What else?Such vague words can probably cover the ground sufficiently well. [I've a headache from teh tropically damp weather this morning. Am I always sick?]
What should I like in others? How self-aware should I really be. I went to a talk last night at the University of Toronto entitled The Religion of Technology. I didn't agree with a large part of what teh historian put together - not the details of history in particualr, but rather the method in use of analysing history. The fellow was a terrific story teller. He was able to hold an audience for two hours in a historical story worthy of Krondor and Feist. However, I don't find that a story can be built to be compelling enough to think the roots in it are true. They might even be so and still not be significant. That a story can be told is not sufficent. The story told of the intertwining between the Christian faiths and the pursuit of high tech as a method to acheive godhood in mankind. Sigh. Heaven's Gate was the fellows eample of choice. Yes these folks were more representative of the mainstream than we give them credit for. But no, the drives towards progress and expanding our technological base are not the pursuit of god in man only. Omniscience and omnipresence are pursued by our governments for better control and management of the stuff of society. I suspect we don't need that stuff. But the spin that the right-wing religious folks are actually the driving force behind tech rather than the fighters against more of it is fascinating. It is hard to believe that the right-wing permeates the western world politically and then does not effectively slow down progress - but I thought that was it's goal. I guess I should open my eyes a little wider.
I truly do enjoy a good story though. For that I am grateful.Perhaps I should listen to more historians for their creative outputs.
The Healing of Carolyn
|In several ways I have been peaking at who I am lately. Peaking around the corners of a busy life. Seeing details that I am amazed at in ways that take my breath away - in happiness and in horror. I am becoming part of the power structure of the world. I do not feel excluded from the happenings anywhere. I hear about a world congress and know that I could with little planning attend the next one of I so wanted to do that inmy life. Really then I need only to look out to see what it is I want to be doing. Get some perspective from a distance from FSC really is a little bit needed. Otherwise things are good. I remember a girl who talked about Princeton so positively at a party at my house - the Quine party. She had attended that school and made it sound very easy to approach those critters successfully. I ended up at Carnegi mellon instead, but with the same pursuit of hope. I remember that in filling out their application, I hadn't even cared about that particular school in comparison to Princeton - solely because she ahd mentioned one and not the other. I time of healing means I am finally after two and a half years abole to pursue academic discourses without wincing with a torn heart. The wounds have healed and I canlook back witha smile. I hope not all of my healing willbe so long-lived. However, I am very glad I am the sort of person (I have made myself to be so) who can heal at all. So as the beginning of my diary here started about those things CMU and Peter, so I think I have moved on to entirely differnet things to consider. The time it takes for me to get to know someone - 2 years - seems to be similar to the time it takes for me to heal about other things too. Can getting to know someone be a form of healing? Or is it all just change.|
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All non-daughter writings of Carolyn's Diary are not copyright © Carolyn L Burke, 1995, 1996, 1997, and may not be copied with permission except for non-commercial gain. See what your lawyers can't make of that.