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garranI bought Sufjan Stevens' "Illinois" for my dad's Christmas, and we listened to it together on the car ride down to our Christmas Eve gathering with his side of the family. This proved to be a terrible mistake, because I'm now obsessed with an album I do not own. (I did get a number of other albums for my own Christmas which I'm sure would be awesome if I could tear myself away from pining for Illinois (and listening to the two or three tracks I have off of it) long enough to put them on. I didn't receive any Ted Leo, which would probably stand the best chance of distracting me; yes, Brendan Adkins, that one is your fault.)
I've been wanting to talk about my tendency to feel like I need to continually seem awesome and interesting, and thereby prove my worth as a friend, but I'm not sure whether I've figured out what I want to say about it yet. (I'm thinking about it again today because I've been watching Arima go through something a little similar; I went over to Elise's, and we watched the first six episodes each of Evangelion and of KareKano, which series complement each other very well. It occurs to me that it's probably not actually an uncommon insecurity; it is, after all, the traditional reason for bluster.) It's problematic because it makes me anxious when I'd like to be content, and is actually counterproductive, since my fear of being uninteresting periodically contributes to my being socially reticent or even reclusive. I'm not sure how to assuage it, since I can't argue to myself that the fear is unfounded, and that the people I like would also like me even if I never said or did anything - they wouldn't! - and I'm not sure how to separate it from the actually healthy and useful parts of my desire to be a good friend and a neat person.
When I talk about something I'm unhappy with, I often get worried that it will look like that unhappiness is currently swallowing my life. It probably doesn't really look like that, but anyway, it isn't.
I've been wanting to talk about my tendency to feel like I need to continually seem awesome and interesting, and thereby prove my worth as a friend, but I'm not sure whether I've figured out what I want to say about it yet. (I'm thinking about it again today because I've been watching Arima go through something a little similar; I went over to Elise's, and we watched the first six episodes each of Evangelion and of KareKano, which series complement each other very well. It occurs to me that it's probably not actually an uncommon insecurity; it is, after all, the traditional reason for bluster.) It's problematic because it makes me anxious when I'd like to be content, and is actually counterproductive, since my fear of being uninteresting periodically contributes to my being socially reticent or even reclusive. I'm not sure how to assuage it, since I can't argue to myself that the fear is unfounded, and that the people I like would also like me even if I never said or did anything - they wouldn't! - and I'm not sure how to separate it from the actually healthy and useful parts of my desire to be a good friend and a neat person.
When I talk about something I'm unhappy with, I often get worried that it will look like that unhappiness is currently swallowing my life. It probably doesn't really look like that, but anyway, it isn't.
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Date: 2005-12-30 06:54 am (UTC)This complaint is probably a little misapplied in this case. It's just that, even when I write something more thoughtful on a topic that has little to do with my innermost feelings, I don't tend to get responses much. I read livejournals in other circles where there's a culture of lively discussions in comments, and when I see that it makes me a little wistful, because I don't have it; too, now that I have a journal with the capacity for direct comment, it feels a little like a judgement on me when there aren't any.
Anyway, my intent actually wasn't to make people who weren't commenting feel guilty, and I'm sorry if I did; even though I'd like to hear from people more, that seems pretty graceless. (After all, at least you're reading! And even if you're not, I bear no ill-will.) I just wanted to provide positive reinforcement to those as break the mold.
- Andy H.