Quand rien ne bouge...

I watch the patchwork farms'
Slow fade into the ocean's arms.
And from here, they can't see me stare,
The stale taste of recycled air.

Lately, I've come to the realization that I'm bothered when nothing is happening--when things become entirely stagnant.  I'm not talking about boredom, exactly; in fact, I think I'm fairly easily contented.  What I'm talking about is a complete stagnancy in life--a period of time when everything is just at a standstill.

Admittedly, I'm a perfectionist, so I'm always looking for things to improve, whether they be things about myself, things around me, or even problems other people are having.  I don't often feel like things in my life are entirely "settled," and that's okay.  I enjoy having something on which I can focus: something to improve.

So, whenever everything is completely at rest--at peace, even--I really don't know what to do with myself.  I feel lost when I can't satisfy these restless thoughts.  Consequently, I often have a hard time relaxing because I'm always plagued with the thought that something needs to be done.  Something needs to be improved.  I feel lazy if I'm just sitting around while opportunities for improvement are lost.  Very rarely do I actually lie back and rest--and if I do, I'm usually plagued with some degree of guilt--and, as many of you know, I'd sooner gouge out my eyes than take a nap during the day (even when functioning on frighteningly low amounts of sleep).  It's not that I'm this amazingly productive person who can't stop until every bit of work is complete.  I just feel restless.  That's all.

So, is there a solution?  Perhaps.  The solution comes in the form of "mini-projects," for lack of a better term.  Mini-projects encompass all sorts of things--from drawing a picture for someone to writing a note and sticking it in a friend's mailbox.  Mini-projects are things I can do to make other people feel good; plus, doing so simultaneously makes me feel better.  I've discovered that, if I give myself something to attend to--especially if that something involves improving someone else's day--when I really don't need to be attending to anything, I feel a whole lot better.  I feel fulfilled.

Who knew fighting restlessness and improving peoples' lives could be so easy?

Alright, enough rambling for now.  I have a small French composition to complete--something for me to improve, right?!

Ah.  Je voudrais me blesser.  :)

Please Remain Seated

All I see is a beautiful, little town in the midst of magnificent mountains--a place where people have hopes and dreams, even under the hardest conditions.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how latently optimistic I am.  Although it's a trait that I typically veil under sarcasm or cynicism, this optimism flows through my thoughts and ideas, lacing everything with a sort of misguided perfection.  When I envision a future event, I envision it to be flawless, despite the fact that I often voice some degree of negativity to the people around me.  Inwardly, though--and this is something I rarely express--I simply fail to grasp the idea that things might not go the way I've planned.  Some part of me always says, "it will work out in the end."  And it often does...  The problem is that I can't even imagine a less-than-perfect outcome.  I can't imagine it.  And that's what scares me.

Grace paused. And while she did, the clouds scattered and let the moonlight through, and Dogville underwent another of those little changes of light. It was if the light, previously so merciful and faint, finally refused to cover up for the town any longer. Suddenly you could no longer imagine a berry that would appear one day on a gooseberry bush, but only see the thorn that was there right now.

As a result of this intrinsic optimism, it often takes a lot to disillusion me; however, when the disillusionment finally hits, it hits me hard, and I can rarely pick myself back up afterward.  Consequently, I tend to shun things--and people--that have disillusioned me.  If my vacation to Florida wasn't all I hoped it would be, I'll avoid thinking about it entirely--perhaps even disregard the photos that I took during the trip.  If Jane wasn't overly enthusiastic about the gift I gave her, I'll never speak about it again...and I'll probably avoid Jane for the next few days.  In fact, I might even view Jane in a negative light for quite some time.

What's the old adage about time healing all wounds?  Personally, I've never found that to be true.  I dwell on things that bother me, and I never really let them go.  Thanks to my optimisim-disillusionment cycle, I'm constantly disappointed when things don't go quite as well as I've planned (which is usually the case); then, I distract myself with optimism about other future events until I'm inevitably let down again.  It's deranged, really, although I suppose we all do it to a certain extent.

I'm sure I've touched on this before in my various blog posts, but part of me wishes that I were just completely negative all the time.  I wish I would always expect the worst possible outcome.  After all, if someone says they're mad at you, and you expect them to destroy you and slaughter all of your kin, but then they only punch you in the face, you'll probably end up feeling a delightful sense of gratitude, right?  Well...maybe not.  But I think you see my point.

Anyway, it seems that there's no easy solution here.  The optimism feels great while it lasts, and then the disillusionment sucks.  But I guess there's a price to pay for everything, isn't there?

Building Bridges

My thoughts are a bit muddled right now, so pardon me if this post lacks any semblance of logic.  Half the time, I scarcely even know what I'm thinking (or writing, for that matter), so I doubt you'll find any large amount of insight in these blog entries.

With that said, allow me to begin my latest bout of rambling...

Have you ever noticed how powerful anticipation can be?  I'm not talking about mere expectations--certainly not in the negative sense I've displayed in my past few entries, anyway--but more of an eagerness, an excitement.  Anticipation can drive me through the week, giving me that extra bit of energy I need to survive my Science & Religion exam or my Life Science lab or even my extensive French composition (which is what I should be working on right now)!  If I'm anticipating something (something positive, mind you), I always have the strength to push through it all.

Now, this "something positive" doesn't have to be monumental.  It could be as casual as going for a walk with a friend, watching a good TV show, or just taking the time to relax.  I mean, sure, the anticipation is going to be a little stronger if, say, you know you're about to leave for a trip to Europe...but anything works, really.

There were so many times at work over the summer that I just didn't think I was going to make it through the week--so many "I. CAN'T. TAKE. THIS. ANYMORE." moments.  But--despite my frustrations--as long as I had something positive looming, even if it was several weeks away, I was totally fine.  "All I have to do is make it until..." was my motto during those times.  Certainly, anticipation has been my faithful companion through many a bleak moment.

And even better is anticipation during those wonderful, non-bleak moments--just when the anticipation is reaching its peak.  The event itself is about to occur, and I find myself happier than I ever remember being--filled with pure, untainted excitement, devoid of any thoughts of negativity or doubt.  I feel this when I'm waiting to meet a friend somewhere.  I feel it when I'm driving to someone's house to hang out.  I feel it anytime I know something good is about to happen.  It's unbelievable.

Oftentimes, I feel like anticipation can be more energizing than the realization of the event itself--especially for someone like me, who idealizes everything.  I can think of numerous occasions when I built up events so much in my mind that the reality could hardly stand up to my anticipations.  But, again, that's not the point.  The point is that, in those moments of anticipation, in that period of charged excitement, I feel great.  I feel like nothing can go wrong, and, on the off-chance that something does, it really won't matter.  I'm anticipating something amazing.

I guess I'm not exactly uncovering some great secret in this blog entry.  "Hey everyone!  Excitement is GOOD!"  Honestly, I kind of felt like my entries were leaning toward the depressing side of things, and I wanted to gush about something positive for once.  So, I decided to cling to this idea--something that has helped me to cope during all sorts of inner turmoil.

I realize that this may not have been interesting or enjoyable...or worthwhile in any way.  But it really does make me feel better to sort these things out in my head by writing them down...for all the world (i.e. maybe about five people) to see.

In short, this post has helped me to realize that, while I often feel bounded by the past and confused by the present, I would simply do better to look to the future--to the things that I'm anticipating.

Restless Dreams

I'm a mess, I guess.
It's what I've asked for,
it's what I've needed.

Sometimes, I wonder why I bog down my life with so many unattainable goals and expectations.

More and more, I'm realizing that I set a high bar for myself--perhaps too high.  I've created this idealized self-image with certain rules that I must follow at all times.  I know my personality--or at least my idealized personality--and I expect to be able to stay within the boundaries I've established.  Always.  I expect to remain constant, unwavering in the virtues that I hold so high.  And I expect to be able to cope, to be able to sustain myself through any hardships, to be able to press onward, no matter what.  I don't like showing weakness--and I'm not talking about physical or even mental weakness, mind you, but weakness of character.  I'm talking about the weakness that inevitably emerges during times of duress, when we can no longer cope--the kind of weakness that makes people think less of us.  This just doesn't fit in with the reality I've created for myself.  I want to smile, to laugh, to be "fine" at all times.  Not much to ask for, right?

Along the same vein, I idealize many of the people around me, and I set unrealistic expectations for them, as well--expectations that could not possibly be met.  It's funny (that "oh, that's actually kind of sick" type of funny).  I see myself doing this, and I remind myself that I've set my standards too high, but it doesn't matter.  I constantly find myself surprised and even hurt when people inevitably fall short of my expectations for them--not by any fault of their own, but by the loftiness of these expectations.  It's ridiculous, really...

I certainly hope this blog entry doesn't make me sound horribly arrogant (although maybe I am...who knows?).  I'm just too idealistic.  Despite the sarcasm and cynicism that I employ from time to time, I've always been inwardly optimistic.  I expect things to go well--flawlessly, even.  And they rarely do.  It's not that things are bad by any means; they're just not as good as I tend to expect, and, thus, I'm often disappointed.

It's stupid and naive, really.  I don't know why I let myself get caught up in these fantastic expectations of myself and of others.  Maybe, for a while at least, I'll try coming back down to earth.

Waiting for the rain to stop.
Destination: beautiful.
Seems that I'm still waiting for the sun.