I found myself today growing angry and frustrated over a situation which was small enough so as to cause me to wonder why I was so upset to begin with. Truthfully, I am still upset as I write this, and still toying with methods of punishing the person who hurt me; ways of somehow making them realize exactly what they did and feel total remorse without my needing to actually say anything about it. I suppose we all live in that fantasy from time to time. I am very much the centre of my world, so shouldn’t they be analyzing my motives and feelings as much as I am?
A friend did something thoughtless today. Or perhaps it was thoughtful and the way she approached it was actually what she believed best for me. I will never know unless I ask her, but I am also not entirely sure it matters whether or not I ever know what prompted this perceived carelessness. There are really two shadows slinking about behind the whole issue and these shades are my pride and my fear.
In a sense, choosing to pursue something like this, whether in dragging it out into a full-fledged disagreement or attempting to get them to realize what’s wrong without ever saying anything is wrong, is a matter of pride. It clearly says, “My feelings, thoughts, and concerns are far more important than yours, so I am going to twist and pull at this friendship until I get what I want: justification for your actions and best of all, an apology for what you put me through.” But what am I am putting them through, especially knowing that this is a friend who loves me dearly and wouldn’t intentionally be hurtful? Am I dragging something out that is better swept away and forgiven for what it only might have been, and not even certainly was? 
As for the fear, well, here is the true twist of it. I know that this friend and I will not be as much together for much longer. That scares me, for I have come to depend upon her and others as my sisters, my advisors, comforters and challengers. Knowing myself, I could not be surprised if I were to hear for certain that somewhere beneath the obvious flow of my thoughts is the simple frightening prospect (and while simple, it is hardly childlike, being the sort of fright that only adults seem to really get) that I have become far, far too attached and that is time to withdraw. I don’t feel this to be the direct cause of my distress today, but I do tank tha it has something to do with it and that makes me a bit sad on its own. I’ve no desire to be that person that retreats from a relationship because of the pain that might ensue from it. Is there ever true friendship without the possibility of true sorrow and loss? And is there true life without the joy of real friendship? 
I don’t know if it is best to keep silent over it and move on, or to bring it up. I do know that if it is to be brought up, however, it must be done so frankly and with the intention of resolution rather than the selfish desire to punish, or hurt in return. The latter is so easy to do to  friend; the love you feel for them seems to be directly proportional to the amount of hurt you would like to deal out to them. This is less the sort of writing that drives me to a neat conclusion packed in a box and wrapped with sure-footed certainty as the unrolling of thoughts and feelings into a sort of composition that relieves the pain and suspense a bit, but which is still waiting for the resolution.

Highs and Low

I was on the train today and the train put me in a rather philosophical mood, as I think mass transportation is often apt to do. I always seem to be at extremes on a train; either battling mentally on the level of a reborn Socrates (though I never seem to be able to articulate those ideas later, so I tell myself they transcended human thought) or else in some sort of horrible, world-despising mood. I can go with either as they both seem to make the journey equally long. Today was definitely a philosophizing one. The woman behind me was obnoxiously close and loud and another two rows back was breathing very loudly and coughing. Not as if she were ill. She was just one of Those Breathers who are sublimely unaware of their own tendency to drive everyone else in their near proximity mad. I had thus shut the world out with the aid of headphones and a Phillip Glass station on Pandora.

I need hardly have bothered with this classical genius of string and melody as what I soon saw was enough to transport me to netherworlds. The mountains were out from under their usual gloom and even more spectacularly, The Mountain was like some immense monster or god of myth, I know not which. We rarely are able to see it, despite its closeness, but when we do, it is a miraculous viewing. I never feel quite the same about it and I think that this is one of its qualities which I can only classify as magic from beyond my imagination.
At any rate, I was thoroughly enjoying myself as I read though an admittedly intellectual book, gazed at this majestic beast and its lesser cousins, and listened to what must be called beautiful, beautiful sound. This seemed to be one of those fleeting moments which I feel I must call ‘higher’, though I feel there are so many connotations with that word that I cringe. I think any words must lessen the sharp exhilaration and yet simultaneous content which these moments contain and express. I can only hope that this feeling is shared by others from time to time, and that their mind can furnish this tale with their own thoughts and evocations of emotion so that I do not come off as a complete windbag.
Essentially, I have times where I genuinely feel I have risen above it all in a sense. It is nothing of my own doing. It is more like breaking through a veil or cloud and seeing it all for what it really is rather than feeling one has elevated oneself. They very act of raising oneself would utterly extinguish this feeling. If you have had it, then you likely know what I mean. You feel at once a queen reigning all, a peasant in the field, working the everlasting cycle of the harvest, and, of course, yourself, but colored now by these roles which lend significance and a heavy realness to your life. Everything has purpose and weight; everything lovely is higher and brighter and therefore terrors more solemn and inevitable. But eventually the track must descend, and the train must rush headlong back into the heart of the city, now brushing side mirrors rather than blossom-laden branches from the trees who only moments ago had been offering their Spring rites to us passing travelers.the descent was very real for me. I at once felt the weight of the realness dropping away from me, but so did the joy and the joy of desiring that enveloped that weight. It makes me think that though I sigh as I uncontrollably return to the lower order of things, I am not sure that a man frame could long bear the higher order for long. It is an intoxicating intensity. More on this later, but for now, I am still pondering how these two orders mingle, if ever, and whether it is wise to pursue one over the other.

Tolerance and McDonalds

One of my friends is out of town for the next few days. Although most of me was sad to see her go, a little bit of me hiding quietly beneath that was pleased. I would have the house and my time all to myself for the most part and besides, some of the things she had been doing were getting quite annoying. She is a fairly new friend and a great one, but you know it can be pretty easy to get irritated with someone rather quickly when you are around them all the tIme. Little things start to stand out like lighting strikes whereas before they would have simply faded in to the background or not have been noticed at all. I had been at that point with this friend.

I’ve been bothered by this concept of friendships fading due to daily annoyances for some time now. clearly everyone experiences this; I know it isn’t just me. I am almost certain she reciprocates my feelings of irritation from time to time. So why do we allow these things to get to us so much, so that hat it becomes like hot stabs of anger every time they’d say some mundane, well-intentioned thing? 

Wondering these things and correcting them are two totally different things and I didn’t see myself correcting this issue anytime soon or even being able to do so. When I boarded the train into the city yesterday, my mind wasn’t really on it, but then I caught sight of a McDonalds. or rather, I saw the Golden Arches. They are in a pretty dingy area, but it nevertheless had my mind swelling at once with a rush of thoughts and memories. The friend and I, you see, have visited this McDonalds and while I can’t say I even particularly enjoyed our time there (I can even look back and read into it the things that are currently annoying me), it at once brought me back to the essence of our friendship and how much I missed her. I was traveling by myself which is a pretty rare occurrence and feeling a bit lonely. It flashed into my mind that none of this mattered without someone else there beside you, without a friend to laugh over it with or to discuss the gorgeous weather with.

ImageI know this isn’t an original thought, but the effect was no less important. In that moment of realization was also a realization that I simply have to be more tolerant with those I love. Her faults are still there, but so are mine. In the middle of it is a friendship that can either etch away at those faults betwixt the two of us or can get chipped away at by those same failings. I think I’d rather see us both strengthened rather than ruined by it. And that can only come about through a deliberate mind shift on my part that says, yes, I am putting up with good deal from her, but I dare say she is doing the same for me. I can either grow from it or be resentful over it. Hopefully I will be able to choose the former more often than not. That said, I did have a lovely and refreshing day on my own, so scattered herein are some new memories in picture form.


Dealing with Problems < Netflix

Some days are just rough. When I have a rough day, the end of it generally ends up looking something like this:


Coffee Cup + Netflix + Blanket + Feet Up

Not that there is anything wrong with that. I love ending a day this way, but when it is preceded by troubles, especially the sort you can’t get out of your mind, then it’s something I tend to regret. I know there are other things I should be doing but right now, all I want is a mindless activity that will somehow turn the switch in my brain to ‘off’ which will then, in turn, give me a few precious hours where I can pretend it all did not happen, is not happening, and never will.