I forgot about this. And am actually more depressed now that I found it. I didn't want to be stuck in a minimum wage job living at my parents house when I last wrote before I graduated.
However, that's exactly what has happened.
My soul felt like it needed to escape then. Now it feels like it's slowly dieing.
And my sleeping situation is worse off. I guess that's never going to change. However, it's made worse that I work 5 pm to 3 am, four or five days a week.
But my sleeping position has changed. As long as I can remember I slept on my stomach, turned to my side. Now the only way I can comfort myself is sleeping in the fetal position with my knees pulled up to my chest.
Random thought of the late night/early morning : Why did my sleep position change? And is that why my body hurts the majority of the time now?
I feel empty.
The only thing I will remember about this time in my life is watching the water drain down the sink at Wendy's.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Leave me out with the waste
I've been feeling confused lately. I feel trapped. Not in my life...fuck no, I am about to graduate and I am going to try to find a job, and I have no idea where I am going to be this time next year. That idea is both thrilling and horrible all at the same time. Because I will be utterly depressed if I am at a dead end, minimum wage job living at my parents.
But no...I feel trapped in my body. Not in the "I'm so fat, I just want to be skinny" kind of trapped. I'm past that shit. I feel trapped in the sense that I just want to float away. I want to float away into oblivion, I want to fly over everyone....I don't want to have a physical body. I just want to be everywhere and no where all at the same time. It's a confusing feeling.
Sometimes when I am laying in bed at night, I feel like something is trying to get out of me. Something is rushing throughout my body, trying to squirm out of an eye, some skin cell, or my nose. It just wants to be free.
And I have no idea what that is. I didn't grow up being religious...I never really thought of a God when I was kid. Actually the few times I went to church I was just more interested in the donuts at the end of service (once a fatty, always a fatty). Seriously, I would leave the service to "use the bathroom" but really I would just explore in search of the donuts. I never found them. And the only times I really prayed was for my soccer team to win (we never did win).
I gave the God idea much more thought in high school, where I came to the conclusion that I was agnostic. I can't ever prove there is a God, but I can't prove there isn't. So I'm just going to stay neutral. I dabbled in various religions, but decided that I just wanted to be by myself with my own believes, whatever they may be. I didn't want anything necessarily holding me back from my own thoughts.
But now...? I've never really felt like this before. I thought maybe it was something...like my soul was trying to escape. But if I believe in a soul, then do I believe in God? Does something greater than myself have to create a soul? Or is the soul just an idea or random neurons going off in your brain? I could very well just be imagining the idea of something running widely inside of me.
The definition of soul: the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans, regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body, and commonly held to be separable in existence from the body; the spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physical part (dictionary.com).
I'm at a loss for words. According to my philosophy of religion class, one can be spiritual but not religious. Honestly, I still don't really understand that...I always thought of the two as going hand in hand.
I don't know, I just tangled myself in my own words. I am left even more confused now. The kind of confused where your brain is going a million miles a minute and there is nothing to make sense of it. Sometimes I hate being a science major, because I got used to everything being so black and white. If I could look at a soul under a microscope or see a picture of it, I would have no problem.
Oh well. Maybe I will eventually float away and only then will I know all the answers.
Random thought of the early morning/late night: If I had to smell only one smell for the rest of my life, it would definitely be this "state of mind" home spa candle that I got way back in Colorado. I could drench my life in it and be content.
But no...I feel trapped in my body. Not in the "I'm so fat, I just want to be skinny" kind of trapped. I'm past that shit. I feel trapped in the sense that I just want to float away. I want to float away into oblivion, I want to fly over everyone....I don't want to have a physical body. I just want to be everywhere and no where all at the same time. It's a confusing feeling.
Sometimes when I am laying in bed at night, I feel like something is trying to get out of me. Something is rushing throughout my body, trying to squirm out of an eye, some skin cell, or my nose. It just wants to be free.
And I have no idea what that is. I didn't grow up being religious...I never really thought of a God when I was kid. Actually the few times I went to church I was just more interested in the donuts at the end of service (once a fatty, always a fatty). Seriously, I would leave the service to "use the bathroom" but really I would just explore in search of the donuts. I never found them. And the only times I really prayed was for my soccer team to win (we never did win).
I gave the God idea much more thought in high school, where I came to the conclusion that I was agnostic. I can't ever prove there is a God, but I can't prove there isn't. So I'm just going to stay neutral. I dabbled in various religions, but decided that I just wanted to be by myself with my own believes, whatever they may be. I didn't want anything necessarily holding me back from my own thoughts.
But now...? I've never really felt like this before. I thought maybe it was something...like my soul was trying to escape. But if I believe in a soul, then do I believe in God? Does something greater than myself have to create a soul? Or is the soul just an idea or random neurons going off in your brain? I could very well just be imagining the idea of something running widely inside of me.
The definition of soul: the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans, regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body, and commonly held to be separable in existence from the body; the spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physical part (dictionary.com).
I'm at a loss for words. According to my philosophy of religion class, one can be spiritual but not religious. Honestly, I still don't really understand that...I always thought of the two as going hand in hand.
I don't know, I just tangled myself in my own words. I am left even more confused now. The kind of confused where your brain is going a million miles a minute and there is nothing to make sense of it. Sometimes I hate being a science major, because I got used to everything being so black and white. If I could look at a soul under a microscope or see a picture of it, I would have no problem.
Oh well. Maybe I will eventually float away and only then will I know all the answers.
Random thought of the early morning/late night: If I had to smell only one smell for the rest of my life, it would definitely be this "state of mind" home spa candle that I got way back in Colorado. I could drench my life in it and be content.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Little Lion Man
I don't sleep at night. There is just something about night that doesn't allow me to sleep. During the day, I'm constantly in a haze and only at night do I really wake up.
This indicates I'm a vampire right?
But a kick-ass vampire, not some Twilight-sparkling one.
Unfortunately, my life doesn't like me to stay up all night. Which could also be why I'm always in a haze during the day. And that I just prefer sleeping during the day. Night is just so quiet and isolating. No one is around and I almost feel free.
I guess this indicates I should get a night-job.
Anyways, I've been depressed lately. And a different kind of depressed, not the "Oh hey Kate, you look miserable as usual" kind of depressed.
I'm actually miserable by the state of the world. I say actually, because I've never really thought about it before. Yeah, I watch the news and if a puppy drowns or someone dies, I usually think "Oh god, that's horrible" but I move on (Actually the puppy drowning thing...no I would never get over that).
I recently finished reading the book "Zeitoun" by Dave Eggers. It's about a Muslim family going through Hurricane Katrina and it's a true story. And it was terrible. Terrible in a magnificent way and I can't stop thinking about it. Not just the fact that they went through Hurricane Katrina, but what the father had to go through during the aftermath. It made me so angry and astonished that it was even possible that it occurred during my life time. The injustices that he faced...I still can't really believe it. It was the sort of thing I read in history books. I know, racism, sexism...etc. still exists. They always will. But what he went through...There were police involved. He was thrown in jail. He wasn't allowed to post bail. What he went through was inhumane. And he was one out of thousands.
Then last week, the school newspaper reported that a sophomore killed himself on Saturday night by laying down on the train tracks that run through campus. The newspaper article was grim and the cover of the paper had a picture of the tracks where he was. The picture was daunting, and as one person put it perfectly "let's you imagine exactly what happened on Saturday night". And since then, I can't get the idea of this guy throwing himself at a train to end his own life as I walk by those train tracks all the time when I'm on campus and I've taken the train home many times. I googled his name and found the obituary, articles...all about who he was and what he meant to everyone. I started crying, even though I never met him. I can't imagine the way his family is suffering or his friends. And the way this will impact them, for the rest of their lives. If he had known just what an impact he had, I'm sure he wouldn't have done it. It made me reflect on my own life, the past, and the choices I made that I wish I could take back.
Then of course, I woke up today to the news of the earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan. For an hour, I just watched clips of the damage on my computer. Hundreds are currently dead and thousands injured, while so many people are lost or without a home right now. And here I was, watching the damage on the other side of the world, comfortably inside from the little rain outside. How can my problems be significant when someone is aching from loosing their homes and/or family?
I have survivors guilt and I haven't been present for any events that can compare. I have survivors guilt simply for being, while so many people are suffering. I can't shake the feeling.
Why have I been privileged?
And I guess all of this doesn't help by the fact that I started to re-read Anne Frank's Diary a few days ago.
Random thought of the day/night/early morning: What is a whiteboard exactly? Plastic? Something else?
This indicates I'm a vampire right?
But a kick-ass vampire, not some Twilight-sparkling one.
Unfortunately, my life doesn't like me to stay up all night. Which could also be why I'm always in a haze during the day. And that I just prefer sleeping during the day. Night is just so quiet and isolating. No one is around and I almost feel free.
I guess this indicates I should get a night-job.
Anyways, I've been depressed lately. And a different kind of depressed, not the "Oh hey Kate, you look miserable as usual" kind of depressed.
I'm actually miserable by the state of the world. I say actually, because I've never really thought about it before. Yeah, I watch the news and if a puppy drowns or someone dies, I usually think "Oh god, that's horrible" but I move on (Actually the puppy drowning thing...no I would never get over that).
I recently finished reading the book "Zeitoun" by Dave Eggers. It's about a Muslim family going through Hurricane Katrina and it's a true story. And it was terrible. Terrible in a magnificent way and I can't stop thinking about it. Not just the fact that they went through Hurricane Katrina, but what the father had to go through during the aftermath. It made me so angry and astonished that it was even possible that it occurred during my life time. The injustices that he faced...I still can't really believe it. It was the sort of thing I read in history books. I know, racism, sexism...etc. still exists. They always will. But what he went through...There were police involved. He was thrown in jail. He wasn't allowed to post bail. What he went through was inhumane. And he was one out of thousands.
Then last week, the school newspaper reported that a sophomore killed himself on Saturday night by laying down on the train tracks that run through campus. The newspaper article was grim and the cover of the paper had a picture of the tracks where he was. The picture was daunting, and as one person put it perfectly "let's you imagine exactly what happened on Saturday night". And since then, I can't get the idea of this guy throwing himself at a train to end his own life as I walk by those train tracks all the time when I'm on campus and I've taken the train home many times. I googled his name and found the obituary, articles...all about who he was and what he meant to everyone. I started crying, even though I never met him. I can't imagine the way his family is suffering or his friends. And the way this will impact them, for the rest of their lives. If he had known just what an impact he had, I'm sure he wouldn't have done it. It made me reflect on my own life, the past, and the choices I made that I wish I could take back.
Then of course, I woke up today to the news of the earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan. For an hour, I just watched clips of the damage on my computer. Hundreds are currently dead and thousands injured, while so many people are lost or without a home right now. And here I was, watching the damage on the other side of the world, comfortably inside from the little rain outside. How can my problems be significant when someone is aching from loosing their homes and/or family?
I have survivors guilt and I haven't been present for any events that can compare. I have survivors guilt simply for being, while so many people are suffering. I can't shake the feeling.
Why have I been privileged?
And I guess all of this doesn't help by the fact that I started to re-read Anne Frank's Diary a few days ago.
Random thought of the day/night/early morning: What is a whiteboard exactly? Plastic? Something else?
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