It was requested, so I might as well. What is it to be human? Well, it means you have DNA within a certain range, and I'd say it means you need to be a complete organism. A comatose person or a vegetable is still human, even though they've lost the mental qualities we normally associate with humanity.
However, we do have tendencies related to our species. Although that has little to do with the question, I feel this post is incomplete without looking at them, so I will. First, our general shape. Second, fight or flight, good sensation bad sensation type instincts shared by most animals. Third, Intellect strong enough to let us defy our instincts almost completely if desired. Fourth, intricate societal structure made possible through our advanced communication. Fifth, the instinct and intellect to use things.
Those are what I can think of.
What did you expect?
March 24, 2010
Me.
I was writing this post all nonspecific and vague at first, but fuck that. Here's me.
I'll start at the beginning: pre-Jessi. I just didn't care. I said I would die for anyone, and thought it was bravery rather than a complete lack of self-value. My life sucked and I didn't know it. I fluctuated between super hyper and gloomy and judgmental at least five times a day. I wasn't depressed, but I didn't value ANYTHING, and my emotions were weak as anything. Socially awkward, a bizarre mix between seeking any kind of attention and doing all I could to save face at my many screwups. I planned suicide after highschool because that's when life would stop being easy. I failed at least one course away every semester in highschool except for the last one to lighten my load and because I just didn't care. I had no reason to. And yet, I was always smiling, people were always asking why and I didn't know, I didn't even notice. Well, I must admit there had been some change before Jessi as well as I started to value my friends more, but she was the main change.
I met Jessi, and at first I just thought she was a cool friend, but as time went on I started to like her more and more, and we became closer and closer. Eventually it changed, it could no longer be called liking her anymore, I loved her. And I changed. I started to become something much more similar to what I am now than what I was. My love for her was more emotion than I thought could even fit inside of me, and it just kept increasing. I started to care more about other things too, started to realize fully just how awesome my friends were. Decided to work, to get into university, because I wanted to be on her level and to stay close to her. I actually did work. I ditched the dramatic suicide plans. I started being able to understand people more, and trying to help. I stopped not doing things I should do because I thought it might be awkward. I had been empty my whole life and didn't notice until love filled me.
However, our close friendship ended, on no small part due to my addiction, always needing her, pushing her away with incriminations of not wanting to be friends anymore because you're busy studying and you're having family trouble. Eugh, I was stupid. It was always supposed to be about her, but I made it about me somehow. Focused on the feeling too much instead of what it meant. But anyway, I was left with barely ever seeing her. Wallowing in my regrets as I realized how dumb I was. When I came to STU it was on and off. In the day, complete adrenaline rush awesomeness coolest place ever. At night it was walks in the cool air, hating myself. Watching as those night hours grew, until it was the only thing I did. And then they stopped, and I lied in bed, day after fucking day. Wanting desperately to fix everything, knowing it would probably never happen, knowing I would probably never even get the chance to show that I had changed. It just kept getting worse and worse, and even then my love for her grew. It did until the end. Always, always staring at my cellphone hoping for a text I knew wasn't going to come, staying near the computer in case she was on msn and maybe wanted to talk. Listening to The Rasmus on repeat for ever because it made me think of her. Writing essay after essay on everything to her, and not sending them, but sometimes sending something off by impulse and usually regretting it. Losing focus in confusion and regret eventually and just being depressed all the time with no need for Jessi to be involved. Generally, pain and depression. I learned the opposite end of feeling, and I don't actually think I regret that. At least I can understand now.
And now it's been about a year since we stopped hanging out, and I've let go. We actually did start to hang out a bit more for a while there, and I actually accidentally let the plans sort of slip through the cracks because my mind was preoccupied with other things. Which is kind of amazing. She's still awesome though, and I need to fix that. A quick look and I might seem fine, recovered. Of course that isn't fucking true though. While I have changed, and my friends mean more to me and I'm not quite so lazy and all of that, the fact remains that I was empty before she came, and now she is gone. She was literally the meaning for my life, the reason I decided to live. I didn't replace her in my mind, where she was is empty again. Tell me, what do I live for? Why should I go to class? Why should I DO anything? There really are only two things I want that I have been able to discover; ease, and the happiness of friends. It's really only the latter that stops me from just forsaking all work. I need a goal, I need something I can ignore hardship for the sake of. I can't get by on inertia.
The most hard to read post ever, probably is brought to you by your friendly neighbourhood person who doesn't know what he is well enough to end this cleverly.
I'll start at the beginning: pre-Jessi. I just didn't care. I said I would die for anyone, and thought it was bravery rather than a complete lack of self-value. My life sucked and I didn't know it. I fluctuated between super hyper and gloomy and judgmental at least five times a day. I wasn't depressed, but I didn't value ANYTHING, and my emotions were weak as anything. Socially awkward, a bizarre mix between seeking any kind of attention and doing all I could to save face at my many screwups. I planned suicide after highschool because that's when life would stop being easy. I failed at least one course away every semester in highschool except for the last one to lighten my load and because I just didn't care. I had no reason to. And yet, I was always smiling, people were always asking why and I didn't know, I didn't even notice. Well, I must admit there had been some change before Jessi as well as I started to value my friends more, but she was the main change.
I met Jessi, and at first I just thought she was a cool friend, but as time went on I started to like her more and more, and we became closer and closer. Eventually it changed, it could no longer be called liking her anymore, I loved her. And I changed. I started to become something much more similar to what I am now than what I was. My love for her was more emotion than I thought could even fit inside of me, and it just kept increasing. I started to care more about other things too, started to realize fully just how awesome my friends were. Decided to work, to get into university, because I wanted to be on her level and to stay close to her. I actually did work. I ditched the dramatic suicide plans. I started being able to understand people more, and trying to help. I stopped not doing things I should do because I thought it might be awkward. I had been empty my whole life and didn't notice until love filled me.
However, our close friendship ended, on no small part due to my addiction, always needing her, pushing her away with incriminations of not wanting to be friends anymore because you're busy studying and you're having family trouble. Eugh, I was stupid. It was always supposed to be about her, but I made it about me somehow. Focused on the feeling too much instead of what it meant. But anyway, I was left with barely ever seeing her. Wallowing in my regrets as I realized how dumb I was. When I came to STU it was on and off. In the day, complete adrenaline rush awesomeness coolest place ever. At night it was walks in the cool air, hating myself. Watching as those night hours grew, until it was the only thing I did. And then they stopped, and I lied in bed, day after fucking day. Wanting desperately to fix everything, knowing it would probably never happen, knowing I would probably never even get the chance to show that I had changed. It just kept getting worse and worse, and even then my love for her grew. It did until the end. Always, always staring at my cellphone hoping for a text I knew wasn't going to come, staying near the computer in case she was on msn and maybe wanted to talk. Listening to The Rasmus on repeat for ever because it made me think of her. Writing essay after essay on everything to her, and not sending them, but sometimes sending something off by impulse and usually regretting it. Losing focus in confusion and regret eventually and just being depressed all the time with no need for Jessi to be involved. Generally, pain and depression. I learned the opposite end of feeling, and I don't actually think I regret that. At least I can understand now.
And now it's been about a year since we stopped hanging out, and I've let go. We actually did start to hang out a bit more for a while there, and I actually accidentally let the plans sort of slip through the cracks because my mind was preoccupied with other things. Which is kind of amazing. She's still awesome though, and I need to fix that. A quick look and I might seem fine, recovered. Of course that isn't fucking true though. While I have changed, and my friends mean more to me and I'm not quite so lazy and all of that, the fact remains that I was empty before she came, and now she is gone. She was literally the meaning for my life, the reason I decided to live. I didn't replace her in my mind, where she was is empty again. Tell me, what do I live for? Why should I go to class? Why should I DO anything? There really are only two things I want that I have been able to discover; ease, and the happiness of friends. It's really only the latter that stops me from just forsaking all work. I need a goal, I need something I can ignore hardship for the sake of. I can't get by on inertia.
The most hard to read post ever, probably is brought to you by your friendly neighbourhood person who doesn't know what he is well enough to end this cleverly.
March 17, 2010
Why?
A while ago a friend told me about an essay question a professor put on a test once. It simply said "Why?". There were a wide variety of answers, and the one that received the highest mark was the simplest and bravest answer: Why not? However, I wish to answer this question in my own way.
Why? Why would someone do something? Why would something happen? Those are the two whys I can find that more or less encompass the entirety of the question. Why would someone do something? The negatives of these are also important; it's because you want or value something, and want to attain or protect it. Motivation, in other words. Why would something happen? A collection of events, rules, chance, and decisions (informed or uninformed). Things happen because of the factors involved, no one (not even god, if you believe in one) is planning all of it.
So, why? Because there is a goal, because or there is no goal. Everything else is just the specifics.
Why? Why would someone do something? Why would something happen? Those are the two whys I can find that more or less encompass the entirety of the question. Why would someone do something? The negatives of these are also important; it's because you want or value something, and want to attain or protect it. Motivation, in other words. Why would something happen? A collection of events, rules, chance, and decisions (informed or uninformed). Things happen because of the factors involved, no one (not even god, if you believe in one) is planning all of it.
So, why? Because there is a goal, because or there is no goal. Everything else is just the specifics.
March 5, 2010
Dreams
I had a dream last I slept. It started like an actual story, there was a narrator who explained things as the camera panned through the town it took place in. It was a very well developed town, the architecture and scenery and such all made sense together, but everything wasn't all the same. A lot of stone, a lot of wide angles. There was even evidence of different architectural traditions coming together. Especially looking at the differences in the churches, it hints at different cultures colliding in the place at one point. It was a pretty beautiful place. It was set in Newfoundland, but I've never been there so I'm not sure if everything in the scenery was realistic. The town was on the ocean, but it was hidden from sight from most of the village by elevated rock.
The rock was the kind with lots of parallel sorta slots in it, with lots of intense rises and falls. Really fun to climb, reminded me of the north except that there was a lot of this green moss stuff on the edges of it. I don't mean that really puffy soft moss, or that hard flaky moss, but the moss that really sticks to a rock and has a sort of pebbled texture when you run your finger on it. On the wet parts, I don't think there would be anything more treacherous, but it never came up. The rest of the village wasn't super rocky or anything, I guess it was in some sort of extended dip in the bedrock. There wasn't a whole lot of large plant life in the town, explainable by the rock no doubt being quite near the soil, but the grass and other small plants were vibrant and healthy and almost blinding in their greenness.
The plot wasn't as important to me and it's pretty fuzzy in my head, that which made sense to begin with. To start with, it explains the earnest and capable teacher in the village, who taught a diverse number of subjects that were listed but I do not remember. Unfortunately, he was a local and teaching was not his only duty. To compensate for the time he spent in the classroom and not doing whatever he did to feed himself, he had to charge more money than most were comfortable with. Eventually, he was replaced with two far less capable people who were better able to divvy up their time and the former teacher became a simple tutor for some of those with more money instead. The school is of no real importance to the story, but the two men are the cause of the conflict somehow, and are dicks. This is just some backstory for them, and how they got into a position where they could do whatever it is they did.
The person I see the story through is never really explained, and I'm not sure if he starts off as young as he is or if he becomes that way in the dream. Something... I think it has to do with a painting or something, brings a fleet of impressive wooden ships down on the town. I guess that means it's not in modern times. There cannot be resistance, the town has nothing to fight back with. They aren't going to kill us or anything, they are simply going to relocate the townspeople to a place where they can keep watch over them. Which is the middle east for some reason. The "king" of the invaders is present, and I basically grab him and run around town and explain why it's awesome. Which is a very childish thing to do, and might explain why I am a child and he morphs into one. I basically blow his mind with how awesome it is, aided no doubt by how quickly he sees everything. This dream was no different from my other ones in that I can very nearly fly in it and consider it normal. This is the majority of the dream, just running around, exploring parts of this town, climbing the rocks, looking at beautiful things. Then we run into a modified version of my dad's house from when I was a kid at the top of the rocks near the coast, presumably heading back to the docks where the invaders are. I don't remember anything past that. I woke up sweaty, like I always do after dreams where I move a lot.
So yeah, I've got pretty complex dreams. I'm a lucid dreamer, there's always a part of me who knows I'm dreaming and a part that doesn't. The part that doesn't is the audience, and the part that does spins tales with the subconscious to tell to it. I'm getting better at it actually, the stories and even GRAPHICS keep getting better. It's pretty awesome. I don't get nightmares probably because of this.
The rock was the kind with lots of parallel sorta slots in it, with lots of intense rises and falls. Really fun to climb, reminded me of the north except that there was a lot of this green moss stuff on the edges of it. I don't mean that really puffy soft moss, or that hard flaky moss, but the moss that really sticks to a rock and has a sort of pebbled texture when you run your finger on it. On the wet parts, I don't think there would be anything more treacherous, but it never came up. The rest of the village wasn't super rocky or anything, I guess it was in some sort of extended dip in the bedrock. There wasn't a whole lot of large plant life in the town, explainable by the rock no doubt being quite near the soil, but the grass and other small plants were vibrant and healthy and almost blinding in their greenness.
The plot wasn't as important to me and it's pretty fuzzy in my head, that which made sense to begin with. To start with, it explains the earnest and capable teacher in the village, who taught a diverse number of subjects that were listed but I do not remember. Unfortunately, he was a local and teaching was not his only duty. To compensate for the time he spent in the classroom and not doing whatever he did to feed himself, he had to charge more money than most were comfortable with. Eventually, he was replaced with two far less capable people who were better able to divvy up their time and the former teacher became a simple tutor for some of those with more money instead. The school is of no real importance to the story, but the two men are the cause of the conflict somehow, and are dicks. This is just some backstory for them, and how they got into a position where they could do whatever it is they did.
The person I see the story through is never really explained, and I'm not sure if he starts off as young as he is or if he becomes that way in the dream. Something... I think it has to do with a painting or something, brings a fleet of impressive wooden ships down on the town. I guess that means it's not in modern times. There cannot be resistance, the town has nothing to fight back with. They aren't going to kill us or anything, they are simply going to relocate the townspeople to a place where they can keep watch over them. Which is the middle east for some reason. The "king" of the invaders is present, and I basically grab him and run around town and explain why it's awesome. Which is a very childish thing to do, and might explain why I am a child and he morphs into one. I basically blow his mind with how awesome it is, aided no doubt by how quickly he sees everything. This dream was no different from my other ones in that I can very nearly fly in it and consider it normal. This is the majority of the dream, just running around, exploring parts of this town, climbing the rocks, looking at beautiful things. Then we run into a modified version of my dad's house from when I was a kid at the top of the rocks near the coast, presumably heading back to the docks where the invaders are. I don't remember anything past that. I woke up sweaty, like I always do after dreams where I move a lot.
So yeah, I've got pretty complex dreams. I'm a lucid dreamer, there's always a part of me who knows I'm dreaming and a part that doesn't. The part that doesn't is the audience, and the part that does spins tales with the subconscious to tell to it. I'm getting better at it actually, the stories and even GRAPHICS keep getting better. It's pretty awesome. I don't get nightmares probably because of this.
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