The Oddities of Time

197 page book in 1 hour, 47 minutes. My intent was to read a chill book while I ate, then do some more homework, then perhaps to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Beware of books. Now the time for early-to-bed-early-to-rise has passed, and I think I'll just pull an all-nighter. Perhaps for 48 hours. And then my mind will be as impaired as if I were drunk. Though I've never been drunk (and I never will be). Time has been flying ever since Saturday night. We got back at around 6, and I went to the Snow around 7 and skyped home for an hour and a half, then played piano 'til 11. It was light when I went into the Snow, and dark when I came out. It surprised me. Time escaped from me. On Sunday night after General Conference I went to my friend's house. We talked, watched Tangled, then talked some more. I looked at the clock, and it had jumped from 8 to 12. Time escaped from me. Today after classes and tutoring I was in the library doing homework from 7 until 10. I didn't notice the passage of time except for on the computer clock. It felt as though an hour had passed. My internal time measurer needs reset, so that time will not escape from me. I expect that tonight as I attempt to be ultra-productive, time will yet again escape from me. I pulled an all-nighter last Monday. That was a week ago. It feels like yesterday. Where does it go? Time is certainly relative. I've felt oddly internal since Saturday. I received social interaction on Sunday night, and now it's as though my meter has been filled for an indefinite period of time. Perhaps my body is finally becoming acclimated so that it needs less of everything in order to survive: less sleep, less socialisation, less food, less time. I will transcend mortality before I know it. Someday I will be married and will not have to use this blog any more. It's hardly read as it is. Someday I will have somebody who will have to listen. I hate the boy. I dislike the girl. But I can feign friendship until the semester ends. Two days of classes, three more of packing/moving/planning.

Sympathy versus Duty

My sympathies lie with myself, but my morality tells me to step away; and not only that, but to be an active participant in their unition. I am able to reign in my sympathies, and control my chariot. And though my sympathies conflict with my morality, I am bound by duty--though it does cause pain. Or perhaps these sympathies are only selfishness, and it conflicts with my duty because my duty is what's moral, and selfishness is immoral. Though I feel a masochist at times, encouraging the courtship while screaming against it on the inside, but almost enjoying the feeling of being a martyr, and a secret martyr at that. And I do wonder: will I ever play the part of the one who is to be courted? I feel as though this is a role for everyone but me: I am not even onstage--I am the curtain-puller, the provider of refreshments, the insignificant peon. I do play a part, I do help, but I am given the most menial of tasks. I've given up trying. I don't know how to try anyways. I only know how to be myself--which, supposedly, is what everybody likes, though I have not seen any fruits come of it. I've been told that I am a good catch, that I am somebody who people would want, yet where is the evidence of this? I have yet to see who it is that wants me. Who wants me? I have given up any practical hope of finding a boy who I want, who will want me back. I have given up any practical hope of a boy finding me who wants me, who I will want back. Of course, there is the residue of hope, which I pull back with my logic. Or with my morality. For logic and morality are very much related. It is hope which hurts. Hope from which nothing will come. Hope which leads to disappointment, disappointment being the worst pain of all. It's a sharp, acute pain at first, and stays a chronic, dull, throbbing ache. It is fear of disappointment, and a knowledge of the high likelihood of such, which prevents me from ever going for anything that depends on anybody else. I prefer to remain in the realm of myself, my box, in which realm I can only be harmed by myself. It is a narrow box to be sure, but it is one which I control. It is one where I decide how I will feel, how I will act, and nothing is dependent on others. This brings pain, but it is a pain that I cause, and that I control. For I would rather have pain which I can control, than a happiness which I cannot. And they say that happiness is not dependent on others, but only on one's own self. It is true that there is a particular sort of happiness which depends only on one's own self, but this is not the highest happiness attainable. The happiness which depends only on one's own self is a lesser happiness. True happiness, happiness in its highest sense, does depend on others, as do all things when they are fulfilled in their highest measure. And as true happiness in its highest sense depends on others, so also does true misery in its highest sense depend on others. The highs are in proportion to the lows, and for higher levels of happiness, there are higher levels of misery. So I will stay on my lower level of misery, and likewise experience lower levels of happiness. But at least I can control it all.

Key Change, Please-- I'm sick of C.

I see that you are ignoring the problem instead of addressing it. Or perhaps I'm so excellent at what I do that you perceive no problem. But if you are aware of the problem, then why not just say something? Or do you subscribe to the belief that if you ignore something long enough, it goes away? Or perhaps the "I can't see you so you can't see me" principle.

It does bother me a little. But it'll be okay. As I told you before, I'm used to it; I can handle it. And next semester comes soon (though not soon enough to keep me from feeling some hurt). Next semester, the problems all go away, because neither you nor he will be here. I don't even have to run away, but I am changing the scenery.

Someday, I'll find mine as you have found yours. Someday, I won't have to be quiet anymore. Someday, I'll be allowed to have one too.

I have a headache. Go away.

Another Complaint On Time

Two nights ago, I read my chemistry book for fun.
Last night, I wanted to learn guitar, greek, and singing--all at the same time.
Tonight, I want to read everything.

Why is there not more time?

I want to audit so many classes. I want to take so many classes.

Why is there not more time?

One of the best and worst desires a person can be given is to learn. How great it is to have a passion for knowledge...and how terrible it is to be limited in time.

I hate sleeping as well. It steals time from me.

200th post. Nothing significant.

So, jam session tonight. Once upon a time, I tried to sing in front of them, and got so nervous and stressed that I cried. Good times. No, but for real. I cried.

It's funny. Laugh.

I also have a reflection paper to write, and I don't want to write it.

I also should have been in bed an hour and a half ago. Or two hours ago.

I also should stop being fat.

I also should become more attractive so that I can have some sort of hope at finding a male figure who I can convince and coerce to be my husband.

I also should get better at guitar, piano, school, the gospel, socialising, confidence, and life in general.

I've got a lot to accomplish tomorrow.

Inflammatory Writ

Loud roommates...frustrate me.
Be thou silent so that I mayest more fully think. And I plan on going to bed soon.

The Elder J wrote me a letter full of passive-aggressive "incindiary rhetoric". (Once upon a time some dude in my Econ History class said "incindiary rhetoric and I thought it was hilarious...and pompous). I don't want to be friends with someone who's gonna have a holier-than-thou attitude and still profess to love me and "only want to make me happy". So, that's taken care of. (Side note--I can be a real jerk when I want to be, and to him, I want to be--but I'll hold back, so that I don't look like a dumb.)

Both yesterday and today were fantastic days. I was in an awesome mood, and things were just happy. Good times :D

Today feels like Thursday. I wish it were.

I wish it were next semester. I need to run away. I'm starting to get stale here. The memories are accumulating and dragging me down. It feels like sludge. I need to escape before I'm tied here. I believe that anything and anyplace is good as long as there are no memories attached. I believe that memories build up until they become a suffocating mass that will keep you in the past. I believe that no memories are good memories, because they are gone, and can't ever be reclaimed.

Bedtime, before my good mood turns to negativity.

Midday Chill

I signed up for classes today. They're mostly fun classes, but a large workload of them, so I think I'll have to get rid of some. But I don't want to. So far, I have:
General Art-2D: MW 2-4pm
Intermediate Microeconomics: MWF 9-10am
(I'm positive I'm going to either audit or drop this one) Public Economics: TR 8-9:30am
Senior Capstone: TR 9:45-11:15am
Old Testament: MW 12:45-1:45pm
American Epidemic: MWF 11:30-12:30pm
Essentials of Welding: TR 12:45-1:45pm, then lab 3:15-5:30pm
Piano

So the classes I will for sure keep are Micro, Capstone, OT, Epidemic, and Piano. I'll drop welding if it turns out to be less fun than I think, or if it turns out to be too much work. I'll drop Art if I think it'll take too much time. Good times.

Now, I have class, and I therefore must depart. CLASS!