Juice (feignedrhapsody) wrote,

what you feel only matters to you. it's what you do to the people you love that really matters.

Seeing as I’ve been stuck on hold with the USTPO Initial Patent Examination office for the last ten minutes, I might as well do something productive with my time and write.

There seem to be many things I’ve taken fro granted. But lately it’s been my personality and thoughts. I just assumed they didn’t need to be exercised and defended and brought out for show-and-tell. That they would be there as I am here now.

I’ve been so erratic lately.
I’ll change within a week—back and forth, highs and lows.
Trying all my theories together and then dismissing them all with one that was exactly the same.

I’ve been focusing too much on people. Wanting to be around them for no reason in particular, not because I’m lonely, but because I don’t want to get lost—but in the long run, I’m pretty sure I’ve lost myself.

I come across things I once loved and blankly stare.

I suppose the main quote that is really haunting me.
“You are what you love, not what loves you.”

I guess that makes me a big giant nothing at the moment—and generally disgusted by anything that shows me attention.

Bah. So cynical.
Forgive me. The weather does this to me.

I’m just waiting for somebody to say something like this to me:

“You say you love me a little, you say you want to stay friends, you say you don’t want no strings attached; no one to depend on you. You see love as a prison; I see love as a key. You think a little is more than enough, but it’s not that way for me.”

And I’ll just shake my head and apologize.
Because that’ll be all I can think to say.
Why is everyone else so much more capable of love?

Too much sun will burn you.
Too much rain you’ll drown.
Too much cold will freeze you.
Too much wind will blow you down.
So what’s the consequence of too much love?

And the more I think, the more I lean towards the idea that there is no specific person I’m meant for. Every time I exit a relationship where I’ve felt strongly of someone, I almost feel embarrassed that I had convinced myself that; one, it wouldn’t end and two, I couldn’t live without them, etc.

As of lately its left me sort of jaded.
The embarrassment, that is.

The idea that one person somehow has the ability to even mate with a single person for the rest of their days seems so outdated to me—like caveman outdated. The living population of humans has exceeded that of those who have ever lived before, more above the ground than below. So I find it hard to understand why we would continue this nomadic mating ritual called monogamy.

I believe love is the eventual build up of ones tolerance of another individual through ones senses. Many adopted children will say they love their parents, and that as far as they can tell it’s no different than if they were their blood, and vice versa. One gets used to situations and the brain justifies it. The longer a relationship lasts, the stronger it seems simply because anything else would be inconceivable.

But human beings are irrational, not the least of which would be yours truly. We’re one of the few creatures who possess the highly unnatural gift of consciousness and awareness of our surroundings and then we were told we’re going to die eventually; no matter how much free will we exhibit.

Sometimes things don’t make sense. I believe that a lot of people delude themselves and it can very well fall under the categories above—and of course more. But there are sometimes where the relationship doesn’t make sense, you might even hate each other, get in fights all the time, break up constantly. Despite the logic, despite the suggestion of other loved ones, despite perhaps even your own free will – there are those few people that you just keep ending up with.

In those situations the only thing you’ll need is creativity.
And, well, perhaps patience.

I’m sure everyone has seen it and come to their own conclusions, but in “Eternal Sunshine” the best part of that movie is that they didn’t work, they would always eventually leave one another. If this procedure didn’t exist they would perhaps never be with each other again, but with it they could spend the rest of their lives together—if only for a year at a time.

The human condition is the fact that no matter what act we decide to participate in; there will always be an ironic side effect.

An inverse side effect.

Not to say that the world makes sense in any way; that there is some sort of equilibrium keeping good and evil at their perspective bays.

More along the lines that anything you love, will be used up.
Anything you hate, won’t seem that bad after a while.

It’s not the most earth shattering theory, I understand, but it seems to fit everything I’ve felt passionately about, be it positive or negative.

It may be the curse of the passionate person, which also falls into the theory. Those who have lust and drive will always become bored with their interests. While those who have no interests may be “content with nothing”.

Does anything last? When you take a pill to enable more lovemaking, isn’t the side effect always lack of sexual drive? When you take a pill to be happy, isn’t the side effect always apathy?

Not just pills, of course, apply this to anything.

What am I even talking about?
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