august 10th

If not for myself, I did it for understanding and perhaps to make it
easier for myself if I do start to seriously consider the meaning of
life, again.

If I hadn't written every day for the past month, I think most of the
people in my community would continue to look down upon me. After
awhile, I felt that most people thought poorly of me, and thought the
'aussie' was a much better, and 'cooler' person than I. It wasn't
easy to feel the burden of someone talking about you, let alone
listening to everyone agree to it.

Is it slander? Is someone directly and explicitly defaming me and
criticizing everything I do in my life from buying an AC unit to
writing important dates on my calendar? Well, perhaps the tone could
be mistaken as being kind and earnestly looking out for my own
well-being. But then I only feel as if I'm being used as some sort of
muse for some else's self interest. It isn't easy for me to talk from
this position because it's something I've done before and something
I've felt before. A community wondering about my identity and the
things I do in my life became community news. Did it matter what my
mood was? Apparently everyone else thought so. This probably seems
very intersting, but I push myself to go on and talk about this.
Talking about painful experiences isn't the easiest thing to do, but
someone has to do it. That's why I then explained to myself that
these hurtful remarks have a good intention to them, if not to school
everyone else within this community, everyone who seems to be
following my daily news from day-to-day, or this community bulletin
board.

It always helps to get different perspectives and takes on it, and it
helps me to disperse the pressure and scrutiny that I personally feel.
I'm not the only one effected by the remarks and the use of the
community bulletin board, but perhaps is has become a joint effort for
which everyone is allowed and equal share?

I'd rather run away from it all, and not care. But it bothers me. It
really hurts after awhile, and I don't feel like I have done anything
spectacular or horrible to warrant this type of micro analyzation of
my daily happenings. What if everyone were under this same type of
pressure? I try to place myself in the other person's shoes,
constantly searching for a better reason for it all, but there isn't a
lesson that I am satisfied with.

There isn't a lesson of living over dying.
There isn't a lesson of good over evil.
There isn't a lesson of humanity over the inhumane.
There isn't a lesson of some sublime escape over the mundane.

And even if my life were crucified and given to some greater cause, I
wouldn't care as much if it were just for the sake of the mundane.
Sensationalism isn't very appealing nor attractive to me, and it's a
personal distaste. I realize that it helps other to realize the
meaning and the advantage over something that is sensationalized since
we are busy people immersed in our busy lives and within our set
routines and within our set selves.

Even if it were used to motivate others out of inactivity to
workaholicism, would I care? As long as someone finds some meaning in
the craft, art, work, vision, or habit that he or she partakes in.

Is it a habit that makes one want to become a better person?
I'm afraid of it, still.