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08/30/2002 entry: "The child is gone"

Like so many other times in my life, I'm sitting here late at night thinking about many things. Every subject I lend my mind to is a small piece of the large mosaic that is my world, and it's quite difficult to keep everything straight in my head. So, writing it all out comes in handy.

Sitting here next to me at the computer is a copy of my dad's resume. I don't have the capability or the will to give a full summary of what's been going on with his workplace. It's a plant that deals with metals or something. It used to be a Reynolds Metals facility, then got bought by someone else. That company went under, and it was bought once again by some French company. They're shutting it down soon because it's losing money like another plant they have in the US. So, my dad's looking for a new job. I suppose we're all at least a little nervous about it. I think I just don't have the capacity to comprehend the thought of my dad not having a job, so it hasn't quite hit me. On the other hand, you could say I just have faith that he'll find a new job. I'd call me naive either way.

The job market is tough, no matter who you are. It took me all summer to find a job, although I wasn't always looking so actively. Regardless, other people are having trouble. One of my friends hasn't found one yet. I think I was lucky.

Aside from all this, reading through my dad's resume made me hope that someday I have that kind of history to write down. My resume right now isn't terribly impressive, I'm sure. My dad's has so many things that I don't even understand on it, and so I'm naturally impressed. He knows a lot about computers. And I never had the ambition to want to know that much about them until just this past year or so.

But, this brings me around to a popular and yet discomforting topic. What exactly I want out of my life. Every time I think about it, I just start pushing it away. There are so many other things to think about, most of which are more pleasant. I get anxious and uncertain, and start to worry that I'm doing something wrong. But if I don't think about it, maybe I won't notice the mistakes and then no one can blame me right? They can't say, "You knew you were doing this wrong and didn't stop it. So it's your fault. You deserve whatever happens as a result". Am I doing something wrong? I always feel like I am. But I can't back out now.

I just don't know what I want. There are a few things that I can say I know I want, but they aren't so much goals as they are selfish fantasies. Dreams of getting to say everything I ever wanted to say and have people really listen to me. Dreams of being known for eccentricity, abstract thought and my questioning nature. Fame and fortune only interest me in terms of experience, not lifestyle. I don't care to live my life that way. I always tell myself: There's a difference between being famous and being known. There's something cheap and embarrassing about being famous. But being known for something, being recognized and respected.. it's so much more real. I'd rather be poor than be another Jennifer Love Hewitt or Britney Spears.

The few things I know I want though, aren't enough. They're mostly generic ideas that can be applied anywhere. The even fewer specific desires just make things more confusing. I don't know how I'd ever be able to work something out. I think maybe one ultimate goal I can actually pinpoint is that I like the idea of lifelong learning. I want to always be a student, and never stop learning. Because the day I stop is the day that I either believe I know everything, or the day I give up living. Both are gruesome outcomes.

You know, everytime I think about how I have all these things inside me I want to say... I wonder to myself if I have any right to express them? Everyone has something to say. It's selfish of me to think my certain things are more important than the next person's. But then again, if the next person has the same irresistable and consuming urges to communicate their ideas the way I do, then I invite them to step forward with me. If we can't find people to listen to us, then we can at least listen to eachother. Just as I was typing that out, I thought maybe that's part of why I love Kevin so much. He is that next person. And we're both determined to communicate something within ourselves to the world. Even if no one else will listen, I know he'll always listen to me and I'll always listen to him.

But, the problem becomes this: How do I express myself? There are so many ways, and I have trouble picking one. I feel like I'm in an Uno game, but I can't put down any of my cards. I suppose that's an odd comparison, considering the goal of Uno is to get rid of ALL your cards. But, it'll have to do.

So I have this music card, and I never know what to do with it. I know I love singing and I love coming up with good music. It's so rare though, and even rarer that I follow through with good songs. They lay around, unfinished. Half baked ideas. Etc. I feel like I need someone else to collaborate with, but I don't know who that person would/should/could be. I would say it could be Sara, but sometimes I think our tastes are just a little too different. While she IS good, and she comes up with good music and has good ideas, it's just the STYLE of her ideas is just a little too different from mine. I suppose that's a good thing, in a way. Maybe I need someone who's more different. Someone who's more experimental. Who listens to some of the same things I do.

There's these two cards I've had since the beginning of the game, one for art and one for writing. And they are both on thin ice. I don't know what it is, but I have enough trouble coming up with ideas, and even more trouble getting it to look/sound the way it did in my head. They both seem to be on the back burner at the moment, although hopefully not for good. But, I'm pretty sure they won't ever be important, money-making parts of my life. Just hobbies that perhaps could earn me some small recognition. I've always wanted to write a book. A good one. I wrote one story in my 20 years of life that lasted about 150 pages.. maybe more. But it was horrible and no one will ever see it.

So, there's this web design card that I'm eyeing. I like computers. I like art. I like the internet. I suppose this would push together a few of my interests, and be a good combination that has some potential to make me some money (if I'm good enough). But, I need more education and more experience first. I'm sort of working on that.

That brings me to psychology. I know what you're thinking. You wish this post was over, because this is more boring than just idly staring at a blank computer screen. To you I say, "Yeah, maybe". You may also be wondering how psychology is a way for me to express myself. Well, it gives me the ability to help other people, and also learn from them. It's kind of a two way street. You give a little, you get a little. This topic however is one that causes me the most worry. I wonder if perhaps I was a little hasty in deciding it for a major. No matter, I think it's the one interest that can support me the best. Psychology majors can do a lot of different things. Hopefully I'll get some sort of counseling job once I'm done with school.

I suppose that might not be all of the things in my head, but it's a good percentage. I'm exhausted right now, and I think going to sleep is probably the best idea I've had yet.

Although, there is one thought that I'd like to leave you with. I want so badly to communicate ideas to people. Maybe the best way to start off with that is by being direct and specific. I just get the idea that most people I care about (even a little bit) don't know it at all. I think I send out subtle messages that they'll understand, but you know what? I don't see what would make me believe that. I think I'm just too scared to make sure they understand. Because I'm too scared that they don't care if I care or not. Not that they should or have to, I mean I'm just me. But if someone I barely talked to suddenly emailed me or told me that I mean a lot, or mean just something to them, I would be really flattered and feel really good about myself. And I like the idea of being on either end of that.

Of course, there's a limit to what one should say to another I suppose. There is such a thing as saying too much. But, if there's one little thing you want to say to someone that you're kind of afraid to be blatant about, I think you should say it. But know this: You can tell someone how much they mean a hundred times. But if you don't show them you care through you're actions, they'll never believe you. This is something I struggle with because I unfortunately tend to neglect certain parts of my life when big things come up. Like this job I have. Other parts of my life are lacking attention and it bothers me.

Well, this is the latest I've been up in a while, and I want to get to sleep. Maybe tomorrow night I'll get philosophic and thoughtful and self-conscious once again. Or just post whatever news I have since my last post. We'll see.