I guess, having been sad helps you better understand those who are also sad. I’ve been going through Narcissu side 2nd at work in my downtime (i.e. the after-lunch slump) and will probably reread through the original after I’m done with that.
I connect with people in a way that is different that others; during those rare times when I feel that I am needed, I like to think that is the reason I am needed. Which is reassuring, because it validates my way of life–it says to me, yes, it is a good thing that you are this way, because it makes you special, and makes you able to do things that nobody else can do. This is how I think, about myself shooting magic stars off at people.
Everyone has their own feelings about how everyone nowadays is just staring at their iPhones, cell phones, … (waitaminute, what ever happened to the good ol NDS? damn…) all the time. It’s difficult to view it objectively because you want to support your own side…when you’re trying to hang out with someone and all they care about is texting their boyfriend, you wish they’d just stop and look at the world around them…but then when you’re in the middle of a bustling, crowded, nameless place, you tune into your music and you just want everyone to leave you alone so you can block it out and retreat into your own world.
There’s always this movement stuck in your head that it’s supposed to be “better” to actually pay attention to the things that are going around you. To not isolate yourself, to engage actively, be social. But somehow the voice that speaks for the other side doesn’t seem as vehement. Maybe that’s the just the nature of the beast; the whole point of blocking out everything around you is that you shouldn’t have to be arguing and worrying about all this in the first place. But there’s definitely not enough defense for the honest wish of escaping the world. Because, as we know, sometimes it’s -not- best to actively involve yourself with the world around you…because sometimes, the world is ugly. Sometimes, the world is cruel, or mean, or just downright NOISY, and shouldn’t it simply be natural to want to shield yourself from it?
Of course, it’s deeper than that, because bundled together with your own wishes, you’ve also got the judgment of society and the people around you resting on your shoulders. You don’t want to become “one of -those- people”, so you hesitate. But then again, you don’t want to just be a goody-two-shoes either.
But why, why, why should it even -matter- what anyone else thinks? When will I be able to toss aside all of these judgments, all of these conceptions, all of these self-imposed pressures, and just do whatever the hell I want to do, by thinking rationally and critically about my own actions, and not about other people’s responses?
It’s interesting that I’m so drawn to expressing myself through written words, yet have such a distaste for spoken words. What makes them so fundamentally different anyways? Perhaps it would make more sense if I was an artist–if I expressed myself through cutely stylized portraits of anime girls who have quiet eyes that speak a million words. Amazing how even for someone as subdued as me, just a slight change in my eyes, just a slight change in my mouth, can speak more than anything I’m ever saying. Despite the fact that it’s restrained, restrained so hard that you can barely notice me, the fact that there are important things that I am thinking about, manifests itself in a way that is very plain to see.
But somehow, writing and typing is fine, whereas speaking, and listening, are not. I know that I reject human speech, many times, but what is it about it, really? Can it be reduced down to anything more simple, more abstract, more conceptual? Perhaps it’s too direct. Maybe that’s it–the act of strongly, brashly, directly communicating something to someone else. It’s not really something “soft” most of the time, and we all know that I am first and foremost a “soft” person…
Those who are like me are most vulnerable not when they fail to communicate emotions to the people around them, but when they fail to communicate emotions to their very selves.