hum

pushing the boundaries of superfluous blogging...i sat here contemplating, staring at my screen wondering what it would be like to start blogging my life story. from the beginning. i thought back to portions of my life and what highlights i remembered. names i remember from kindergarten...trees i remember from elementary school...chains i knew in high school....i remember a lot of really odd things. stringing them together i realized they made very little sense. i'm always intrigued with childhoods in general...not just mine. i feel like at the base of it, our childhoods shape us. dig deep enough and you'll find a reason for every quirk there is about you. not that i think i'll ever be able to do that...or that ANYBODY will ever be able to do it; but i'm content knowing somehow that it's there. sure...there're genes that influence certain aspects....but i think even those genes are influenced by our childhoods.

in the end i decided not to. somehow i started thinking about my career after that and thought of working at my old internship doing other jobs in the company liking fixing equipment. i could do that. i could like that. it's very rewarding to me to 'fix' something...i finally can now, given the time and equipment required. i'm in a weird funk. after thinking about that...my computer went into standby and the fan turned off...with my stereo off i heard the gentle, subtle hum of the ceiling light in my room seeming to drain my mind away. the tv on softly in the lounge i just left...and that hum just made me feel like such a stale person.

now i'm wondering why i ever thought anyone would be interested in hearing my life story. i can't make sense of it...so i wouldn't be able to throughly or effectively explain it....so what would these jumbles of memories mean to anyone but me? why do i like to spew my mind to the world so much? is it just blanketing the world to see who'll listen? who'll respond? and even if so...is that so bad? if nobody listens...what will become of me?

i ask myself at least twice a week what would happen to me if i just stopped being friendly. turned inward...stopped initiating conversations, stopped saying hi to people as i passed them, stopped trying to include people in my life....could i handle my own thoughts as my sole companion? would i be missed? could i still grow?

in the end i try and tell myself as a consolation i'll try and be more personal...to make my life more meaningful to the society around me (friends)...but in the end the way i continue to act makes me feel like i'm trying to generalize every reaction i make so that nothing will ever surprise me again. is that growing? or is that falling?

or maybe i should stop overthinking things. occupy myself better so i don't have these dead moments where the fan goes off and all that's left to sense is the stale pounding of a 60Hz electronic hum from a fucking lightbulb. maybe i should at least try and be awake when the rest of the world is there to hear me instead of leaving messages for future reactions...



maybe, just maybe, this is how i'll always feel.



*not yawning anymore*