I was visiting my grandmother yesterday when my aunt came over, and for the first time that I can ever really remember, it really bothered me that she was my mom's twin. I'm not sure why it was so prominent...I've seen her a few other times by herself. Perhaps it's because I hadn't seen her in a while, though. She looked the same, but I couldn't help myself from continuously staring at her face, thinking about how much it looked like my mother but wasn't at all the same person.
I've been wondering--fighting, more--with whose fault it is that you are the way you are. You or your parents? After all, if there's one thing all these psychology theorists had in common, it was that childhood is a critical stage of development in personality: everything reflects back to childhood, a time when you had no control, everything was everyone else's decision. Where you lived, went to school, where you ate, what you saw.
Yet no one denies our free will and adult responsibilities, but what if our actions always stem from what someone else exposed us to as a kid?
I was trying to think of what I wanted from my life, and how lovely life would be if I were just born earlier and had my marriage arranged prior to birth, and merely had to take care of a household. It honestly kind of sounds like the life, not having to make any choices.
It's because the beauty of the world we're in now is all left up to you. It's up to you if you ruin it. You pick everything: career--partners--friends--what you have for dinner--color of your phone cover. You have so many decisions to make and so much to be responsible for. And it's a scary thought that if you don't like it, you're the one who screwed it up. And then you're depressed because of what you've put yourself through. We're so free, and that's the burden we carry.
(I apologize if I repeat myself over time throughout this blog...I don't go back and read, I merely keep adding to it, not even editing that. Maybe one day I'll have to go back and psychoanalyze myself.)
It's funny though. Even with all of our free choices, there is still so much that is beyond my control.
Who I run into at lunch could affect the rest of my life, along with the decision of whether or not I stop to talk to them. Everything I do (and don't) could change everything. But someone else, fate or fat chance, puts those people around me at those given moments, and I have to figure out why that is or what I can do with that potential free choice.
Sometimes (which adds up to most of the time) when I'm sitting around studying or stumbling or simply procrastinating as I am now, I will wonder what I would do if I could be living exactly the life I wanted at that moment. I really think it would be closely the same.
As a matter of fact, I even want to study for my test tomorrow or finish my fiction on Frau Troffea, but I simply can't focus/have run out of creative juices. I know that I'll eventually do both, or that even if I didn't it would turn out okay in the end, probably. Therefore, if I weren't merely procrastinating, what would I be doing with essentially guilt-free time?
So I would focus and study and work hard on these things, if I could, yet I can't. Throw me some pills, eh, America? I would also probably be discovering new pleasurable music like I used to when I felt I had time. I would read some good, unassigned books. Essentially, in the end, I know I just want to be surrounded by loving people who never cease to amaze me and not be in poverty. I'd want to cook tasty food, entertain my friends, and constantly learn new skills to improve upon some kind of self-actualization. I'd want to travel upon occasion and spread some of my own time to others who need it. I just want to create a good life, and leave behind a mark to know it was worth living. That is and is not a whole lot to ask for.
I don't really care about day to day drama, or even sleeping (though that's all I've managed to do successfully in the last 48 hours). And people say you need days where you get to sit around and essentially nothing, but honestly, that isn't enjoyable for me. Yet I still can't quite find that energy or motivation or inspiration or passion or focus or drive or whatever it is I'm lacking to get me there, I literally don't have it. Having said that, I'm not depressed, not now, I'm fine. I just need a muse and my social circle to be happy, and I'd be good. But again...those just aren't really things I can just give myself.
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