No sce teo ipsum

Know Thyself

I have lost count of the number of times I have heard people use the expression "I don't care what people think" and marvelled at how silly they sound saying it. A better way to put it might be "I 'try' not to care what people think or say about me", "I don't let people's opinions influence my decisions" but both are inevitable, and lets face it, both sound morbidly defeatist. I have had to come to terms with the fact that we all navigate our lives away or towards the 'people' that surround us, either way they effect the latitudes and longitudes of our course. If you are a rebel you are one because you do not conform to societal standards; if you are a conformist you are one because you do; If you are a nihilist it is because you just don't care like other people do; if you're a zealot its because you need other people to care as much as you do. People are unavoidable.
Even if you avoid them...
especially then.

It really would be a relief to -for once- not bother with the added perception of a larger, general, phantom audience. To look in the mirror and appreciate ones' face for what stands out pleasant rather than being bombarded with what needs fixing. It would be comforting to be able to take solace in literature, music and films without the added element of their ratings, their perceived triteness or depth or the general consensus that defines the "in thing". It would be good to just like or dislike something, anything on the premise of 'taste' that has not been outlined by the media, society, religion or culture. Then again, would it still be called taste without the bearings that confine it.

I have been tracing my steps back, which appears to be my strong point, thereby debilitating any chance I may have to move forward and I realise that all of my 'identities' both past and present have not only been effected by outside influence but practically outlined by it. At this point the realisation of trying to avoid concerns other than ones own becomes an added plight. The fact that I am presently trying quite hard not to profess opinions that belong to others has left me conflating abstract musings to define what is mine, if there is anything in my corners that I can claim copyrights to. I have always hated the notion that all creativity is essentially borrowed... I believe the polite inflection is "inspired". Somehow it cheapens both the muse and the musings. Recycling however, appears to have made it as the trump card of our time.

Recently, the borrowed perceptions that have driven me include those that pertain to my writing, my beliefs and my goals for the future. My ridiculous and rather pathetic propulsion to impress people almost always proves to be my downfall - the need to appear and sound intelligent inevitably trumps any chance of being so. I can no longer write without considering my readers, which kills the process or the solace I once sought in the simplicity of the exercise. Words no longer flow or skate pages because I debate whether they deserve to be there. My bigotry is boundless.

Is this really what I want... a sense of completion through an incomplete albeit hyper-intelligent notion of reality? I have learned that this also appears to be what I seek in the limited company I voluntarily solicit. People that make me feel dumb tend to impress me, which is rather silly when one comes to think of it, because it essentially means that I shall never be content with myself or anyone else. Perfection is not a human trait and by the looks of it, it isn't a divine attribute either. No one can 'know' everything about anything, so it is essentially a lost cause.

Perhaps I should stick to the 'look for someone to just 'be' with' adage rather than the 'look for someone to 'learn' from' notion. Teachers tend to become overbearing more often than not. They need students to feel smart, students need them to hopefully become 'not dumb'. Both conditions stem from insecurity and a care for what the 'other thinks'. I don't think there is such as thing as learning for the heck of it but it is a grand ideal to give up on.
Then again... I remain the girl who thrives on a perennial pat on the head awarded for a good answer given in class.

I think I am a masochist

... and I 'hope' I don't care what people have to say about it.