Thoughts On Things

Entry 6

I'll be getting some test results soon and although I don't want to, I ought to fail for my own good, I believe. I wouldn't necessarily classify myself as a gifted child, but I've managed to get by well without studying so far. Due to this, I've never felt the particular need to study and never managed to build up the habit of studying anything. I believe this will only serve to my detriment in the future. As tests will surely get harder and I will not be prepared to study, for I have not done it before. I don't know if I failed the tests I did, and don't think I did, but if I get anything less than a B I hope it will motivate me enough to make the decision to start studying. If my results are anything above that, I fear that I will not see the need and feel the desire to study, only realizing when it is too late. 

I finished reading a book called The Stranger by Albert Camus today and would like to note my thoughts whilst I still have them in my mind. I thought it was okay after finishing, and brilliant after thinking for a few hours. Looking back, noticing the multiple bits of almost foreshadowing, the not so subtle nihilism and absurdism. I believe the ending was my favorite. The narrator had committed a murder and was soon to be executed. He fears for his life, has a breakdown and then comes to a feeling of almost nothingness, a state of absurdism. He simply wishes for a big crowd to be present at his execution. Finding the joy in meaningless things, enjoying them fro the sake of it. 

I've often wanted to feel the rumored curse of intelligence in my life, and sadly lack the intelligence to do so. If suffering is smart then I am stupid. Luckily suffering does not make you smart so I have a chance at least. But still, I want my mind to be torn apart and thrown around by the earth shattering terrifying revelations in my head, the fearsome pieces of art I conjure up, the loud, chaotic symphonies. I suppose my sanity is kept intact by the fact that I cannot comprehend the vastness of space, the power of bombs, the fearsome mental images. The most I can do is be stuck for a moment before continuing on, mindlessly. 

I would say I'm creative, but only as much, or slightly more, than average. I like to doodle sometimes, just terrible little sketches from a non-artist, but they help convey what words can't. I play some instruments and have learned one to a proficient enough level to, I suppose, express something. Though to me it doesn't sound emotional at all, just noise that sounds okay, and nice. And I suppose it must sound that way to others as well. So boring, my playing is. I can only stand it because I move my fingers so much, but I hardly listen to myself any more. I've never really been able to comprehend the emotions present in any form of art, unless it's spelled out to me. Never felt the supposed pain in someone's voice, the tortured mind of their art, the rebellious spirit in their words. Are the ones who can comprehend it abnormal?

Speaking of normal and abnormal, I truly have great difficulty imagining other people as different to me. I don't often see how someone can view something so differently, see what I'm not seeing, despite it happening time and time again. Maybe it's some internal narcissism, "If I can't understand and see, no one can!" Something like that. It would make sense. Half my thoughts are of me succeeding without any difficulty, fantasizing about being on some talk show, unable to explain even my own genius. Every word only serving to escalate my godlike status. The other half of my thoughts act as a barrier called rationality, to stop those thoughts. 

I've read that we should embrace those thoughts so we can conquer them. Like conquering any other fear. Yet it's a fear so great that it conjures up a whole whirl of other emotions; shame, embarrassment, disgust, sadness, guilt. A fear so great we like to separate it from ourselves entirely, saying it's our subconscious mind, a new entity removed from us. I do like to believe that too, but still think it's me, of course. 

A debate I often have with myself is whether or not I should have children. It's a very important decision in many ways. The burden of a child is not one that should be taken lightly. I have no obligation to have a child and don't feel so much in the way of sexual desire, but at times would like to have one. At those times, I am usually thinking of the child as an extension of myself, or some sort of experiment. When I bring myself back to reality, remember my morals and the law, the desire wanes. Due to this, I currently do not see myself having children. Of course, another debate that comes with this is the idea of a partner. I think I could likely get married in the future without too much difficulty, as my standards are low, or realistic, and I am not one to present myself as hatable most of the time. However, as I mentioned, I do not have much sexual desire, so don't feel the desire for a partner of that manner. And romantically speaking I don't feel the need. I've had a childhood crush and got over it, and that was enough love for me. Those are my thoughts at the moment - they are, of course, subject to change.

I am now feeling tired and in great internal pain. My lungs sometimes feel as though they are compressing too far, leaving me unable to breathe, and a vague feeling of pain fills me up inside, where I feel I shouldn't even have pain receptors. 

Good night.