So I'm in the kitchen trying to cook something, and I can hear 60 minutes in the other room. The story is about that horrific case in Austria (?) with the man who locked up his daughter for 20-something years and had 7 children by her. I didn't want to even hear about it on the news, let alone on 60 mins with even more detail. So I ask mum to turn it off or use headphones (which were right in front of her) and she justs screams at me "SHUT THE HELL UP!!" etc. etc. and goes on about how she's just vacuumed the house and is trying to unwind and relax! Why on earth would someone watch that to relax? So 5 minutes later I give up and abandon my cooking and come here to type this. It really struck me as odd that my mum is listening to a story about a horrible mans treatment of her daughter and all she can do is yell at me instead of listen to me, or wear headphones. I hate being reminded of how much people can be dicks, or just plain heartless.
It's mind blowing to actually put into words all of the absurd things that run through our minds each day. Thoughts and images that are just as real as the next, yet because they make little sense, or have no validity for conversation, we learn to forget them as fast as we make them. Just this morning I kept seeing this four-legged robot-spider like device that was flipping over and crawling along two tightrope-like lines. I kept widening the distance between the lines and the spider would stretch it's legs to keep walking/flipping over. It wasn't exiting to see, but like folding up a napkin, or tearing a minty wrapper, I just kept going.
from http://binsybaby.livejournal.com/541417.html
What the hell is that? I bet kids look at it and ask why a horse is wearing a bra and has a handbag glued to it's side.
I remember growing up with lego, and figurines that weren't trashy whores, and sticks and mud and climbing trees. Kids find more entertainment outside, or with a book, or paper and some crayons than they do with the stuff they're peddling now.
Why don't the makers of these things research what kids actually want and need?
Does anybody else get that really nice, but melancholic feeling when It's raining? It's the same feeling I had when it rained when I was young. The smell of the air, the smell of that blanket, playing board games or watching TV but looking out the window instead of at the screen. It's more than just memories though, it seems to give you a sense that extends beyond the present. You think of cities, airports, lives that you'll never be a part of. Things you might do and see when you're older.
How do these feelings come from the precipitation of some water in the sky?
I don't know. It's nice though.
At this point it seems no one is really reading this anymore. But I'm not too concerned, it's more of an outlet for me anyway. Today (after school) has been a complete mess. I'm obscenely tired from completing work late last night and yet there's still too much to do. I sort of gave out after dinner and half-fell asleep on my bed with this one line of a song running through my head over and over. Usually if I don't know the lyrics to a song I have stuck in my head, my mind wears itself out and gives up. This time, most likely due to the odd state I was in, the same 5 seconds of melody and lyrics ran on end mercilessly. I think I fell asleep at one point but it's hard to tell, the same song was still loud and clear as day.
This afternoon was one of those afternoons when the world sort of caves in and things aren't seeming fair anymore. Less fair than usual, I mean. You're in year 11 now and despite the fact that you're obviously having a bad day, there's work to be done and bad days aren't allowed. All of a sudden, your natural breaking point is irrelevant and, as inhumane as it sounds, it's taboo to just say "I can't do it".
Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?
If so, do you tell this person he is "too serious," or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?
If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren't caring for him properly. Science has learned a good deal in recent years about the habits and requirements of introverts. It has even learned, by means of brain scans, that introverts process information differently from other people (I am not making this up). If you are behind the curve on this important matter, be reassured that you are not alone. Introverts may be common, but they are also among the most misunderstood and aggrieved groups in America, possibly the world.
I know. My name is Jonathan, and I am an introvert.
Oh, for years I denied it. After all, I have good social skills. I am not morose or misanthropic. Usually. I am far from shy. I love long conversations that explore intimate thoughts or passionate interests. But at last I have self-identified and come out to my friends and colleagues. In doing so, I have found myself liberated from any number of damaging misconceptions and stereotypes. Now I am here to tell you what you need to know in order to respond sensitively and supportively to your own introverted family members, friends, and colleagues. Remember, someone you know, respect, and interact with every day is an introvert, and you are probably driving this person nuts. It pays to learn the warning signs.
What is introversion? In its modern sense, the concept goes back to the 1920s and the psychologist Carl Jung. Today it is a mainstay of personality tests, including the widely used Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Introverts are not necessarily shy. Shy people are anxious or frightened or self-excoriating in social settings; introverts generally are not. Introverts are also not misanthropic, though some of us do go along with Sartre as far as to say "Hell is other people at breakfast." Rather, introverts are people who find other people tiring.
Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."
How many people are introverts? I performed exhaustive research on this question, in the form of a quick Google search. The answer: About 25 percent. Or: Just under half. Or—my favorite—"a minority in the regular population but a majority in the gifted population."
Are introverts misunderstood? Wildly. That, it appears, is our lot in life. "It is very difficult for an extrovert to understand an introvert," write the education experts Jill D. Burruss and Lisa Kaenzig. (They are also the source of the quotation in the previous paragraph.) Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping.
Are introverts oppressed? I would have to say so. For one thing, extroverts are overrepresented in politics, a profession in which only the garrulous are really comfortable. Look at George W. Bush. Look at Bill Clinton. They seem to come fully to life only around other people. To think of the few introverts who did rise to the top in politics—Calvin Coolidge, Richard Nixon—is merely to drive home the point. With the possible exception of Ronald Reagan, whose fabled aloofness and privateness were probably signs of a deep introverted streak (many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors), introverts are not considered "naturals" in politics.
Extroverts therefore dominate public life. This is a pity. If we introverts ran the world, it would no doubt be a calmer, saner, more peaceful sort of place. As Coolidge is supposed to have said, "Don't you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?" (He is also supposed to have said, "If you don't say anything, you won't be called on to repeat it." The only thing a true introvert dislikes more than talking about himself is repeating himself.)
With their endless appetite for talk and attention, extroverts also dominate social life, so they tend to set expectations. In our extrovertist society, being outgoing is considered normal and therefore desirable, a mark of happiness, confidence, leadership. Extroverts are seen as bighearted, vibrant, warm, empathic. "People person" is a compliment. Introverts are described with words like "guarded," "loner," "reserved," "taciturn," "self-contained," "private"—narrow, ungenerous words, words that suggest emotional parsimony and smallness of personality. Female introverts, I suspect, must suffer especially. In certain circles, particularly in the Midwest, a man can still sometimes get away with being what they used to call a strong and silent type; introverted women, lacking that alternative, are even more likely than men to be perceived as timid, withdrawn, haughty.
Are introverts arrogant? Hardly. I suppose this common misconception has to do with our being more intelligent, more reflective, more independent, more level-headed, more refined, and more sensitive than extroverts. Also, it is probably due to our lack of small talk, a lack that extroverts often mistake for disdain. We tend to think before talking, whereas extroverts tend to think by talking, which is why their meetings never last less than six hours. "Introverts," writes a perceptive fellow named Thomas P. Crouser, in an online review of a recent book called Why Should Extroverts Make All the Money? (I'm not making that up, either), "are driven to distraction by the semi-internal dialogue extroverts tend to conduct. Introverts don't outwardly complain, instead roll their eyes and silently curse the darkness." Just so.
The worst of it is that extroverts have no idea of the torment they put us through. Sometimes, as we gasp for air amid the fog of their 98-percent-content-free talk, we wonder if extroverts even bother to listen to themselves. Still, we endure stoically, because the etiquette books—written, no doubt, by extroverts—regard declining to banter as rude and gaps in conversation as awkward. We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts' Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say "I'm an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush."
How can I let the introvert in my life know that I support him and respect his choice? First, recognize that it's not a choice. It's not a lifestyle. It's an orientation.
Second, when you see an introvert lost in thought, don't say "What's the matter?" or "Are you all right?"
Third, don't say anything else, either.
I'm learning to articulate my thoughts better through this blog. It's something I've always been bad at doing. It's especially frustrating in conversation when you're stranded with no time to think and no backspace key to save you.
I look at some of my previous posts and think "how on earth would somebody understand what I was talking about?!?"
I seem to jump around from topic to topic, tangent to tangent, with no dividing line. It probably has something to do with the way ideas seem to endlessly stream and jump and collide in my head. There's so many voices, so little outlets. I once thought of my mind as a rough sea. Too hard to tame in it's massiveness. The waves relentlessly smashing against my consciousness. I drew a spontaneous picture when I thought of that. It was the one I had as my default picture on my myspace for a while. I liked that small doodle I did on that post-it-note. It may not have been granted with a second glance from most, but the image meant something to me. It didn't even look like me though! I suppose it was an idea that I didn't feel the need to put into a self-portrait. It was just an idea that could float around to any one identity, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's felt that way.
If we work to live, and live to enjoy the things we're passionate about. Why not smush both together?
I've been thinking about what I want to do after high school and I'm jumping around a bit. I thought I was certain with psychology but now I'm not so sure. I know deep down I'm an artist and I always planned to do art on the side, but I thought that it would be too hard to make a living off of it. However, I think I could pull it off if I really thought about it. I think I might do that. I'll find a way to do what I love and make a living from it. It's fitting really, because in order to work all of this out I'll probably need to use some creativity : )
;0 *yawn*
'night.
- Bacon muffin
- Bacon espresso
- Bacon latte (vegan)
...using "lol" and "hahahahaha" as a social crutch. You know when you have nothing to say and just kind of half-heartedly chuckle a bit to break the silence. I do that on msn and myspace as well. It also tends to happen whenever I make even the smallest joke. It's like I have to make sure they see that it's a joke, even if it's blatantly obvious. It makes whatever I was saying sound really desperate. I think it's just yet another bad habit that has spiraled out of control.
What's with all the spiralling, Luke? Huh? Yeah...I thought so.
