the shatter of earth's collapse
☂
Not that anyone will actually see this, but you might or might not have gotten the reference above...anyway. Please do note that this online journal has been fighting the battle of neglect and time, often on the losing end, and really does feel like some sort of blue elephant that one's got to keep somewhat alive. For the sake of tradition, I suppose.
(K) Yuan here.
linkage
blue birds flap fandoms + happiness + the lot where the ego centersit's all quite narcissistic, really.
Date: <$BlogDateHeaderDate$>
Time: 12:38 AM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
thoughts from a red cushion seat
just felt like writing things. well. hello!
nothing much actually. supposed to be doing anthro but distracting mynahs are distracting. retook the Myer Briggs personality test -- got INFP, changed from ENFP or summat like that from two years ago hehg. remember being quite glad to get 'extrovert'.
spent the afternoon revising integration (math yes yes go on have your sharp intake of breath), realised how many holes i actually had that geog took away from math, etc. then i decided to slack for a bit because tiny brain capacities and spent the time til dinner watching bits of Classic Who (because they refused to load the full damn thing) and ended up binging on Buzzcocks (amstell + fielding :>:) (they need to get regina spektor on the show along with an observant guest and have them compete for adorability.) ("THE FIRST JEWISH BUNNY WHO KILLS, WINS.") (okay fine amstell's not there anymore buT STILL)
Oh and father's back from new york (yhy) and got my itunes credit on cards (:D) which Apple, being an arrogant prick, would not allow me to spend in the UK store "since it's US store credit" ->- (MY AAAAMSTEEEELL ;=;) Brother got a giraffe load of stuff which shipped a lot cheaper to there than to here and hence. also a lot of food and over sugared pies. (they look quite scary.)
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finally got all of regina's (recorded) songs!
after 3 years.
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"Introversion – along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness, and shyness – is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology. Introverts living under the Extrovert Ideal are like women living in a man's world, discounted because it goes to the core of who they are. Extroversion is an enormously appealing personality trait, but we've turned it into an oppressive standard to which most of us feel we must conform."
- Susan Cain, Quiet: The Power of the Introvert in a World That Won't Stop Talking
read this a few months back and found it profoundly relevant when dugged up. i suppose i would be a closet introvert, and the MBP test kinda shows it, in some way. and it may possibly explain how sometimes other people just don't make sense. sense in a way that can't quite be properly described, sense in someways that their logic is their own segregated herd instinct rather than generally accepted as rational logic (but then again, there's faith to that). sense in the way that they always seem to want to talk about the boring things and that they can make the really great topics absolutely mundane and thick (esp. for themselves) when its all very clear and they'd go "i don't get it!!!!" and then go back to their life and selves of mundane, empty things. it's almost like brave new world. I would go as far as to call it that, actually.
choice, however, remains a liberty. fortunately.
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i just don't like human beings all that much, alright? if you asked me a lot of 7 billion of them should just wake up and see how bloody useless and excessive they are and just kill themselves as logically as that math prodigy. or rather states shouldn't ban suicide. but then again i'm just being selfish.
7 billion of them and i can barely take a school of a thousand> students at points in time.
(why can't people just think sometimes think and want to think and share your thinking and ideas instead of stamping yours on and going on about yours yours and yours and then drying up and then going back to your perpetual mindlessness and yammering and endless talking what you don't say means a hell lot more i don't have to tell my parents that i love them i don't have to tell my close friends because what you do in the end ties yourself more intrinsically to them, in a manner more powerful and true than common language. because it is only in your established set of language that truth remains and the use of a common universal language is a degradation of connection, rather than any honest acknowledgement between yourselves.)
tired and yet, humanism remains ever naive, ever hopeful, ever persistent.
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and don't you dare tell me to stop, just because its absurd to you, and that you'd rather dwell in your happiness, founded on levels of ignorance. happiness is no measure of wealth, but "over-thinking" most certainly isn't a curse and is currently preferable to suicide.
and no. i will not join you.
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to find the fine between growing up and moving on.
as much as one desires the former
one abhors the latter with a fiery vehemence trying to be fuelled by nitrogen.
terror, really.
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i see a format evolving.
also have been writing a bit. curious trend.
and i should find a theatre geek friend soon. with whom productions can be attended and dissected and theatre'd.
(k).
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