start.pre.2oo1



110400, saturday, noon. so i hate to think of this as any kind of a diary or anything like that, but i suppose i should admit that it is. i've never kept any sort of a diary or personal log or anything like this before so i guess it'll be a learning experience for me. i've been thinking about starting to write something like this for quite a while now, but have had some reservations, namely the fact that i eventually plan on hosting all of this on a website (and everyone i know would be able to read it), which is why you are able to read it now (obviously). i don't know that i could spend as much time and energy writing something like this if i would somehow be unable or incapable of sharing it with people. not "people" as in all those hordes of nameless clones walking around shopping malls, standing in line, and otherwise making the world a rather ugly place, but "people" as in individuals. i personally couldn't care less about groups of people, herds are stupid, listless, impulsive and just annoying in general, but individuals on the other hand; individuals are important. almost all of the good things afforded in life are done so via individual interpersonal relationships, the feelings of the single person are so fundamentally impactful, so unique and delicate so special, that it defines not only that person, but that person's perception of the world, society, and his/her past experiences, and by understanding individuals one gains a much better understanding of parts of society that you may never have come into contact with, nor experienced. on very few other things do i feel that the micro level is more important than the macro level. but you've all heard that cheesy inspirational quote that says something like "it's not whether or not you win or loose, it's how you play the game that counts,"

//rant
well the quote is fucking flawed no one plays a game (this is alluding to sports) to have fun, sports are driven by capitalism, the whims of social expectation dictate what a game is played for, and it is pure altruistic bamboozlement that people say they play anything for fun, if people weren't playing to win competition would be shallow and weak, which would make the game virtually no "fun" at all.
//end_rant

anyway life is one of the few things we do that actually follows this idea, mostly because there isn't any "winning" or "losing" in life, unless you look at dying as losing, but then we all die, so if dying really were losing then it wouldn't matter how we played, the game would end the same anyway. i can't exactly remember where i was going with this, i forgot it somewhere in that sports rant, but what i really wanted to get across (if you have trouble reading into what i wrote) is that if i'm going to write about anything, i want what i write to touch people, i want individuals to walk away from the reading(s) with a positive experience, to feel that they were somehow given something special by me, that their eyes were either opened to something different and new, or that people find that they are not alone in life, in their thoughts, that that hint, that glimmer of understanding lies between the lines of what i have written, and this glimmer is a reflection of their own feelings. maybe even finding some sort of companionship simply by reading this diary, my philosophy or poetry.

loneliness is such a funny thing, everyone's looking for companionship of some kind, there is something flawed with our culture so as to make all of its denizens feel intrinsically flawed, empty and needing. whether this exists outside of america i am uncertain, as this is the only place i have ever lived, but we have our TV, radio, cell phones, movies, porn, music, all of this we partake in because we feel it will somehow better our lives (whether this thought is conscious or not i dunno) that it will somehow give us what we lack, maybe it's one of those impression-type things, or desensitization perhaps: if you hatch a duck and you're the first thing it sees it will then "think" that you're its mother and will follow you wherever you go, cute?-no but if you look at society, at commercialism everything you see is trying to get inside your head saying "i'm your friend, you can trust me, i would never let you down, so buy this product," "i'm here to help you, you're important, empowered, special, and freethinking, this is why you are going to listen to this testimony of my product, and decide for yourself that it will make all of the troubles you have in the world disappear," from an age that we can't even remember we have been hit with these types of propaganda, perhaps giving us some sort of psychological need for this type of companionship, if it would even be called that and thereby replacing the normal need for real people. similarly by seeing these types of false-friendships, and being continually let down by the products they represent or by our built-up expectations of these products leads us to be suspicious of everything and everyone trying to be nice to us, where we reach a state of only the super-human outreach catches our attention (the commercialistic media), and everything else is untouching next to this henceforth "desensitization" much like crack and dopamine.

i should note that i oftentimes rag on people but most of the time this is more of my complaint about the pollution of the individual by a perceived society, than about people in general.

anyway i hope this was an alright first entry, i can't stand that shit where people say "hi i'm Jan, i am 23, i like the color green, playing Frisbee and hanging out with my friends, i live in Oklahoma and like coffee...." this tells you nothing about a person other than that he/she is shallow, and that she/he also should not be writing anything. i suppose that some standard autobiographical information will come later, as it is somewhat important in defining who i am and perhaps why i think the way i do, but i wouldn't expect it to. i have 3 tests next week, work all weekend and otherwise am busy, so i guess i'll write again, whenever that happens to be.

end.pre.2oo1



All rights reserved, tid242.com: 1994-2oo2.
contact|at|tid242.com