Wibbly Wobbly Adulthood

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     At some point... you become an adult. Correct?  I mean, I don't really know.  It's a little hard to tell if someones an adult, or just a really big kid... Though we seem to have some adults in this world (or people who claim to be).  

     I guess we could say that I question adulthood. How can you not? I mean... nobody really knows when it happens.  Are you an adult when you turn 18?  Or perhaps once you can drink?  Or maybe when you can legally rent a car?  I don't know.  We don't know.  Nobody can seem to agree on when you become an adult. That's a little confusing, don't you think?   

     Well, forget the confusion... I'll just say 18 is adulthood. We will say, 18 is adulthood.  

     In that case, I am an adult now!  That thought is overwhelming.  Not in the way a test may be, or any kind of physical or mental exertion would be.  But rather in the way a sudden realization might be. In fact, it is sort of a realization.  Turning 18 has been a sudden realization that I've been around a decent bit.  I am done with high-school, I am moving into some of my final stages of college... And yet I feel completely unprepared "to adult." Taxes, paying for necessities, my actions being my own... it is all a little overwhelming. 

     
     I feel like no amount of Self-Help  books will help me become the adult I want to be.  So naturally, I've read all the Self-Help books I can get my hands on.  Maybe I'm a little silly.  On one hand I feel ready to be an adult, and on the other I don't want to even think about adulting.  

     Perhaps my anxiety comes from the fact that I don't want to just be an "adult".  I want to be a full functioning and contributing human being.  I don't want to just do things.  I want to see, learn, educate, help, and spread love.  I don't just want to adult. I want to be the best adult I can possibly be.  Humanity needs more then adults who can be confused for "big children."  The world needs more humans who are trying to balance what wibbly wobbly adulthood means. 

Masks

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I look in the mirror
What do I see?
Myself as I am?
Me as I appear?
The outer shell, 
That contains nothing?
The inner core, 
Shining out?

I look into your eyes. 
What is there?
Muscle, tissue, 
Chemical reactions?
The soul staring out
Through tinted panes?
Beauty pooling through
Yet, still contained?

Maybe it is but a farce
Faces may be just masks
Hiding our souls, 
From us, 
From them, 
And those we love. 

What would people think 
If our souls lay unmasked
Or perhaps I should ask
What would we be?

Poem 59 ~ 12/14/2012

Something Beyond "Self"

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     Sitting, we share poetry.  Bits and pieces of our souls are spilled into the air of our local library, at an open mic event.  Sifting through lines of varying shades of "good."  We listen.  Looking at the faces of those laughing, crying, and stoic... I saw and I learned.

     Pain is life.  For everyone it brings its own sting.  Some experience the loss of a parent, grandparent, child, or friend.  Others experience being abused by someone you should be able to trust.  For some the greatest pain is hate of oneself.  For still others being shunned by peers and experiencing bullying is apart of life.  We all hurt, and it is all different.  Even if you meet someone who has gone through the same circumstance as you, their experience is different.

     For many of us in the world we cling to a higher power, something beyond ourselves.  Not only christians do this, but Hindu, Islamic, and Buddhist religions look towards higher beings.  Even those who don't believe in a God or supreme being(s) sometimes turn to science as a a higher source of truth.  However, we sometimes forget to look beside us.  Debates arise between people, and we set up walls and barriers.  We claim our pain as ours.  Sometimes it is what makes us feel "unique."  But pain is one of the things that should really bind us.

     Yes, a mother loosing her teenage daughter to a marriage full of abuse, and loneliness is different then a mother who watches her child move from California to New York.  However, they are both mothers.  Even if they cannot empathize, they can sympathize.  We can hold each other, wipe tears, offer solace and simply... be there. We should look at each other as what we are, human.  We are connected.

     Those I shared my pain with, they didn't make a big deal, they didn't see me cry.  But they looked into my eyes, and saw me.  The walls that could have stood (my religion, gender attraction, schooling differences, dress, and appearance) were broken down between us.  Maybe not forever, but for that moment. And that moment matters.

Shout Out to 1D Fans:

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     I almost wouldn't write this.  I happen to really like just writing... thoughts.  I think voicing is better then preaching.  Thus, that is what I try to do.  But in the past few days I have seen pain, frustration, and hurt that honestly scares me.

     Over Google+ and, I have noticed, a large amount of social media an influx of Zayn, and One Direction, related negative emotion is pouring in. People are hurting.

     I consoled a friend who was falling to pieces over Zayn... And I just... It was so sad. Yes, I enjoyed Zayn. He is cool. And it's sad when a band member leaves. But it's just awful when you realize somebody who meant to give such joy through music... Is now being punished by his fans. He wanted to make his and 1D's fans happy.  Instead some are cutting and and flirting with, and acting on suicidal thoughts. Can you imagine how awful that must be for Zayn? He didn't want to give a lie by remaining in the band when he wasn't happy there. But now fans are disgracing the past 5 years he gave them, by hurting yourselves and wishing to inflict self harm. 

     Please, go to the old albums, cry over him all you want. I get band dedication. I am sympathetic. But don't give so much pain to a man who spent 5 years trying to make you smile! Put down the knives, stop looking for the rope. Remember, he loves you. He gave you as much as he could, and that's all an artist can ever give.

     To feel is to be human. To hurt yourself because of it, is to need help.

Appreciation Package

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     I'm so pleased with how far this has all come.  I started this blog 2 years ago with a simple statement of wishing to write things, because I have a point of view too.  It's awesome to see that people actually like hearing what I have to say.  I cannot begin to describe the thrill I get when I see that I have another view, much less another follower. So... 

     My 200th GooglePlus follower will be getting an appreciation package!

     The package will contain, Swedish Fish, 2 original poems, and an original signed Zentangle.

     I can only ship inside the contiguous United States. Apologies to my international brothers and sisters, I am just not that rich yet. Maybe someday.

     To everyone, thank you! I'm so grateful for how far this has come. I'm almost to 5,000 views, nearly hitting 200 followers, and my posts keep increasing in the amount of +1's I receive.

     Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favor! 

Why is it?

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     While pondering life, and the greatness of it, I realized something.  It must be one of the greatest common ironies of life.  This irony being, that the people closest to us, are often the ones we express ourselves the least to.

     When I say express ourselves... I don't just mean by talking, I mean, simply making things known in a straightforward way.  Often, I will express to a perfect stranger, "Hey, I really like your hair."  Sometimes, I will even praise a person's choice of book or music.  However, how often do I tell my own family that I like how they’re dressed, or say, "I love that TV show! I am glad we can like it together."?

     I think that sometimes, we forget to not take those close to us for granted.  I will often get caught up in something, and forget to mention things because it seems 'obvious.'  Such as, I obviously liked the present I gave this kid, so why should I mention that I think he looks dashing wearing it?  Well, sometimes, the things that seem simple, and not necessary, can be the things that might bring the most pleasure to someone.

     I just go around assuming that my friends know how much I love hanging with them, because I try to make it happen regularly.  But, why don't I ever just take 5 seconds and tell them?  It can't be because I'm "too busy" because who is too busy to take a moment to say something?  However, the fact is that I don't mention the little things that make me happy.

     A friend told me that I should write a list of things that make me happy.  At first, I was going to list blessings, however, then I thought about it, and I decided to write about things that are simply... nice.  It is very strange to look at it and realize that many of these 'nice' things are things that I could say thanks to people for... Such as when somebody saves me a seat in class, or has a place they want me to sit; being invited over to somebody's house to hangout; and being asked to dance, even if they felt like it was a little late to ask.

     There are SO many things I could say that make me happy, and that I've never even thought to thank my family, or friends for... So, I'd like to take a moment to tell everyone who has touched my life in some way: Thank you!  My parents, my siblings, my extended family, and my friends.... you all deserve to be thanked.  Maybe someday I will get better at voicing myself to those who matter.  Starting now, I am going to try and get better at it.

My Belief in Realism

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    Recently I watched a video that presented the Realism Theory.  You can watch this video by clicking here.

    In case you are like I usually am (and didn't watch the video) let me explain briefly what the video was about.  Pretty much it simply presents the fact that we don't know for sure that anything is real.  We can feel what's around us, and we can hear things...  but no one can know that it is in fact real, and not made up by our own mind.  The idea that what we can touch, see, hear, taste, and smell are in fact a part of reality is called the Realism Theory.  The idea that we can, in fact, see reality and are currently experiencing it is only, in all reality, a theory.

    In the video it presents a case where a woman got out of serving time in jail because she was convinced that she was living in the matrix and that her actions didn't matter or hurt anyone.  Obviously she was labeled as crazy.  But the strange thought is that maybe she isn't crazy and those, including myself, who believe in reality as we see and feel it are truly the 'crazy' ones.  In that case most of humanity would be crazy. 

    This leads me to discuss the question my mind presented to myself:  "Why should I continue to believe in Realism if I don't know its true?"  This question is one that is very simple for me to answer.  I answer it like I answer myself when I am logically picking apart religion. 

    My answer is:  "Why not?"

    Now this may seem to not be a very satisfactory answer, however for me it is sufficient.  I come to it by putting aside the fact that I may be a disembodied spirit in a trancelike state somewhere in a real person's pocket, and by realizing that even though I don't know what exactly is going on outside of my own head...  what I choose to believe may actually be the truth. 

    Thus, what I choose to believe is chosen because I want to be happy and as good of a person as I can.  I choose to believe in the Realism Theory because if it is in fact real then I can live through my life being a good person and not hurting people.  What I do will actually matter and effect others.  If I chose not to believe in the Realism Theory then what would keep me from hurting others?  If none of what I experience is real, then why should I treat others kindly? 

    Because I do choose to believe in the idea that what I sense is in fact real, and I wish to be the best person I can be...  I do in fact care about how I act, and how my actions affect others.