I sometimes wonder whether I should reinstate that “daily blogging” habit that I used to have, where I would make extremely boring posts about everything that happened in my day. A few years after I first started doing that I realized that all of those posts were very blah and not very insightful or interesting, even to myself. But I guess at the time it was perfectly fine, since I actually had devout (ha…) followers and so this was a way to keep those people in the loop about everything that happened in my life, and for them to give me their comments.
But I wonder sometimes whether I was happier back then because that gave me an outlet to release all of my emotions and feelings about the day–even the very insignificant things and everything that -didn’t- matter. And even those things that I normally deny the existence of because I refuse to acknowledge the fact–to admit that they’re bothering me.
Here’s an example:
well. I don’t feel like typing much today. I already typed hella lot for the physics lab write-up, anyhow.
-my blindfold solve…..failed….=( Well, I can try again. like…tomorrow. =p
-got my SAT results. wanna know more? ask.
I’m looking forward to sleeping today.
I had no idea how nice hugging and squeezing a pillow is…
See? Entirely meaningless. Yet somehow, maybe things like that did well, to serve as a replacement for the day-to-day talking and communicating that normal human beings have.
Just imagine I’m like Nagato Yuki–she is supposed to be my “sister”, after all…though I guess Sayuri-chan has not really been “born” into the world of the internet yet. But anyways, just imagine I’m like Nagato Yuki–because of the way that I go about life, this “error data” accumulates inside of me.
So perhaps I should resolve to write more insignificant things here. Though honestly, even with all of the friend-filtering I’ve done (still under 200, even though I recently added a few, which makes me very happy ^^), it still very much weirds me out to blast this kind of stuff out there in such a way. I still feel that twinge of discomfort sometimes that from time to time does restrict me…
I’m reading through the Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya now (aka Shoushitsu), and despite the fact that I already know everything that’s going to happen, I’m still grasped by very “emotional emotions” at times. I guess it was the same when I went through the Kanon visual novel and cried near the end of Makoto’s route.
Keep writing, keep writing, keep writing. A part of me idly wonders whether I should do another “stream of consciousness / nonstop typing post”. That might be fun, ehehe.
Something else I realized was kind of strange–because I’m so quiet and because I don’t have any “shine” and because I’m very unnoticeable and because I’m not “popular”, I actually am quite better about going out of my way to find company than other people are. Even when I look at the people around me who are “very sociable”, none of them goes about things in the same way that I do. It’s really out of necessity that I have to get outside of my room and make my “rounds” through the halls of Kimball and stop by each of my friends’ rooms–if I didn’t, then I’d just never see these people. It’s kind of odd, really. Odd…
I think it’s been a while and I’ve already realized a long time ago that despite the fact that during Sophomore year I felt very jealous and envious of all of that social activity that went on–I wondered why it was that I couldn’t enjoy being in that “brightness” as well–why I seemed to be ignored, unnoticed, abandoned, isolated…despite the fact that I had those feelings, I’ve learned that that kind of atmosphere isn’t right for me. It’s just not healthy for me. At all. When that kind of excitement, that kind of noise, that kind of laughter, that kind of attention, comes my way, it does unhealthy things for me. Sometimes it just drains my social batteries until I just feel exhausted, but more often it causes me to retreat into my shell as a defense mechanism, because I don’t like it.
Someone asked me a few days ago why I’m so quiet. I get asked that every once in a while. “I’m always this way.” “I’ve always been like this.” Those are the kinds of answers I can give. I guess to be honest they’re answers that don’t really explain anything, but then again, usually when I’m asked those kinds of questions I’m already withdrawn into my metaphorical shell anyhow, so I’m not exactly in a mood to explain things.
But what is the real reason, really? I’m sure I’ve covered it many a time before in this blog, eh? That’s an interesting thing about this blog–not that it’s necessarily that bad, but I’m sure that most of the major topics that I cover are repeats of some form or another. Those of you who are longtime followers (all…0 of you xP) will know that I’ve already done many pieces on being DM, hating facebook, my quietness and introversion, proclaiming and defending video games and trance music, …
But let’s still entertain the question anyways. Why am I quiet? We already know that it’s because of reactions to the way that my mother was, and the way that she raised me. But is there something deeper? We could say that I inherited it from my father. That’s a possibility as well. We could ask whether I’m more or less quiet than my brother…I feel like I’m both more and less quiet, depending on the way in which you look at it. But in terms of the quiet that I’m talking about, perhaps I’m more quiet.
I suppose my brother has something to do with it too, doesn’t it. He was, after all, 10 years older, so I had to revere him, in a sense–to respect, admire, and fear him. And perhaps most of all, let him have his way–because it was futile to try otherwise. And so I became very patient, and became very good at suppressing myself–suppressing my curiosity, my desires, my voicings. I sat patiently while he played video games, and even back then, was able to wait however long it took. Even back then I had those times when I would just sit there and patiently wait, doing nothing–absolutely nothing. Absolutely nothing except just sitting there and observing.
And in a way that must be why I became so good at certain kinds of perception. I became able to figure out things for myself–to watch, wonder, and then learn.
So really, I became trained at a very early age, to be a silent Nagato type.
I’m already looking forward again, to the annual FB deactivation for my bday. It’s going to be an epic act of defiance, just like usual. Yes, secretly somewhere deep inside I wish that somehow, people would still make that day special, but that desire is much, much eclipsed by the desire to set my foot down, raise my fist, and scream “screw you, world! You all suck, and here I am, laughing at you!”
I’ve never gotten showered for my birthday here at Stanford. Actually, that’s technically not true…during my Freshman year my dormmates were really kind to me–not only did they remember, but they also were so kind as to listen to my pleas and “shower” me with balloons instead of throwing me into the actual shower–because I was feeling kind of sick, you see. And I actually really appreciated it. I appreciated it much more than I would have if they had actually thrown me in the shower. Though…the room did smell of rubber afterwards xD
I could have potentially gotten showered during admit weekend. It was my birthday during admit weekend, yes. I’m very glad I didn’t get showered then. Extremely glad. I was in an unfamiliar place feeling uncomfortable–because of course, I’m not the kind of person to throw myself into a new environment easily.
During Sophomore year and Junior year, it was kind of the same sort of story–one or two people might have remembered, but nothing else aside from that–no issues, no excitement, no surprises–just my family taking me out. Though, last year was a little bit more fun, since my nee-san was there too…i think. maybe. from what i remember.
Wait, no, I think that’s wrong somehow. I think sophomore year was the happy year with onee-san giving me the hello kitty folded-paper doll. And last year was the year where I felt very very glum and blah. Maybe even a sort of self-imposed one, but also that was just a hard year for me. A very hard year. And I already knew that I’m not good with my birthday. The “shaking my fist in defiance” for the FB deactivation is always a good hurrah, but I already know that every year, the birthday is not a good couple of days for me. It’s just a tradition, just like how Winter quarter always tends to be the best one for me.
Though, I guess it’s also supposed to be a “tradition” that Christmastime is supposed to be the best time of year for me, and one that makes me feel really magical and special and happy. And that tradition has…well, perhaps fallen completely flat. Not that this past Christmas was entirely bad–in fact, it wasn’t bad at all! But it wasn’t glorious like I remember. I think it’s just because I’m out of high school now. Ah, high school. College -has- finally become better than high school, but…I still look back upon those times with envy every once in a while. It was…different.
That’s all I have for now. Somehow I feel like I could go on and on and on and on and on…………….