Thursday, November 26, 2015


Now Playing: Nine Inch Nails - Various Methods of Escape

I complained about this yesterday--in between trying to distract myself from Rage-That-Will-Lead-To-Religious-Intolerance and the like--but I don't know if the Publix Thanksgiving Dinner thing was a good idea. We ordered the smallest possible turkey and I swear, it was still designed to feed eight or ten people. There's four of us. We don't even like turkey all that much!

At least I know what my primary meal source is going to be until Christmas. Although some people would see that as a touch. . .tragic, it's still food, right? Can't exactly complain.

We haven't eaten it yet. Still preparing. My parents and brother didn't wake up till half an hour ago so Thanksgiving dinner will probably be a touch late. I always get this weird urge to refrain from eating anything all day till we can get to the official dinner, but I get the feeling I'm the only one who'll make it through the day without passing out.

Anyways. If it comes out good, I might post pictures. We'll see.

Until then, I've spent most of this morning reading and writing and doing online holiday shopping and listening to angry Type O Negative songs. But that last one was mostly by accident--I think the shuffle option on my music player is broken or it has a mind of its own or something because it keeps playing veryyyy like-minded songs for me.

Which isn't helping. I'm still angry.

I'm hoping it won't ruin Thanksgiving, but it's difficult to put it aside. I fell asleep early last night and then kept waking up every couple of hours and obsessing for a few minutes before falling asleep again. It just kept going, on and on, until my brain started repeating the same conclusions to me over and over again, leading me to get even angrier. Not just at E or his community/friends/family, but at me. I have fault in this because I know for a fact I've been making the same mistake over and over again. And it's difficult not to hate myself for it--or at least dislike myself for the next few days. Hours. Weeks. Seconds. Who even knows how long this is going to last?

Anyways. In between all that obsessing--which believe me, you don't want me to write out. One, some of those conclusions I reached are too personal and borderline embarrassing, and two, it'll just get boring and nonsensical--I kept thinking of something he mentioned to me once.

Few weeks ago, when he'd gone out to a bar to hang out and talk to his brother, he ran into a couple of acquaintances or old friends or something. Whilst talking to them he mentioned me and my glorious atheist status. (Not 100% sure how that came up in conversation). And one of the girls there said something like, "well she's nineteen, she can't be certain about God yet."

He told me this when we were walking around Downtown, and I did a double-take at that line and was like, "wait, how old are they?"

"Like twenty-three."

Oh right. The age of wisdom.

Yes, they can be certain about their beliefs and practices, but I just don't know myself yet. I'll come around. Some day. Just like I'll come around on the whole marriage-and-kids subject. (No woman ever declares she doesn't see herself getting married and having children at a young age and then doesn't change her mind. Or so people will have you believe).

Aside from the condescension and borderline hypocrisy, I've always thought that argument falls apart very quickly when it's applied to me.

I mean, in general you really shouldn't be invalidating the thoughts and feelings of people, much less younger people who are allowed to change their mind and rediscover themselves however much they want. In fact, I shouldn't say that because old people can too. We all can. We're human. We are constantly changing. It's just more messed up to say it to young people because they are often more impressionable and might start second-guessing themselves for completely asinine reasons. ("Maybe these complete and utter strangers know better about my feelings than I do.")

But in this particular case, it falls apart with me because I. . .am not really the kind of person who changes their mind.

Biggest example is the most obvious example. At the age of six, I realized I wanted to be a writer. I promised I'd make myself into a writer.

Thirteen--almost fourteen--years later, that hasn't changed. I had brief ideas of side-careers, I've taken up other hobbies, I've spent an ungodly amount of time worrying about my future, but that basic tenant of who I am, that hasn't changed. I knew who I wanted to be at the age of six and little, innocent, silly six-year-old me wasn't wrong.

I'm not going to write this post out as some kind of ridiculous "I'm much stronger now" and "nothing can get me down." I'm not going to pretend I'm still not hurt and angry at what happened. But if I have to write an obligatory Thanksgiving's Day post and have it mean something, I'm going to do it in a way that cheers me up a little, that forces me to be nice to myself and to my circumstances.

Because I'm always thankful for a lot of things. Thankful for my family, for my friends, for the fact that I'm in a very privileged position, food in the house, roof over my head, years of education, people I love being in good health.

But right now, I think it's important to say that I'm thankful for one very big, simple thing: I know who I am. I've always known who I am. And I may not like it all the time and I may wish myself to be different on occasion, but I'm not deluded in my character, and I'm not uncertain about my wants and wishes.

And just fyi, it's quite nice to know yourself.

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"Science and science fiction have done a kind of dance over the last century... The scientists make a finding. It inspires science fiction writers to write about it, and a host of young people read the science fiction and are excited, and inspired to become scientists...which they do, which then feeds again into another generation of science fiction and science..."
- Carl Sagan, in his message to future explorers of Mars.