Things Were Going Just Fine Until...

I don't really know what causes it, but from time to time I get into a mood of nostalgic semi-depression.  It can be set off by nearly anything that reminds me of the way things used to be.  It can be a picture, a name, a birthday...just about anything.  As a whole, it is an insanely complex concept.  I doubt I will ever understand it as I do a program.  I can only see the results (the feelings)--not the code.

Anyway, today's nostalgia was triggered by looking at Justin's Danielle pictures collection on Facebook.  I'd never taken the time to look at it before.  Perhaps I was just afraid of remembering The Event in more than a superficial, naming way as I normally do.  That's exactly what happened.  I began to mentally spiral through the whole thing again.  The whole, terrible Costa Rica thing.  I remember the people that we lost.  I remember the memories that made them special.  That is what makes me depressed.  It's something I try to avoid when possible.  Maybe that's the only reason it still haunts me so.

That June day of last year, I lost a best friend.  I'm guessing that is what makes the memories so lasting, so dark...so sad.  It disturbs me that I don't have the same problem with other people I've lost.  My grandma and grandpa on my mother's side passed away in 2000.  Haley Hilderbrand was killed in 2005 by a tiger.  I had just spent the entire year with her on the yearbook staff.  My point is that these were people I knew personally.  They are not people who make me feel this way, however.  Out of the four lost in Costa Rica, it is Carlson that really gets to me.  Perhaps it is because he was one of the few people who really "got" me.  He understood what I was about.  I am not simply a gun-loving computer geek.  Those things are hobbies--those are not my personality.

Maybe it is because I always feel so isolated.  The isolation didn't really begin until I graduated from LCHS.  Suddenly, I was thrust from a way of life where I was constantly in contact with hundreds of people, many of whom I had known since early in gradeschool, to an environment where you actually have to make an effort to even see a dozen people you know in the space of a week.  College at a university never really worked out for me.  If it wasn't for my roommate being an awesome guy, I'd probably have gone nutty from feeling so alone.  This is really a subject for another time.  The point is that perhaps the feeling of being depressed because of the loss of Carlson is related to being more isolated.  He was always one of those people worth talking to because they would actually respond to you over IM or phone--a true friend instead of just somebody I'd known.  I've had many "friends" but few have kept me in their circles after graduation.  It's not that I'm no longer welcome.  It's just that without the convenience of being around each other every day anyway (school), we don't communicate.  Hence, the friendship isn't special.  It's not a connection that either of us couldn't live without.

Carlson wasn't like that.  Kyle isn't like that.  I'm running on 50% here, folks.  I doubt that I'll ever manage to make this situation clear to the likes of an outsider no matter how much I write about it.  It would take too longer to ever effectively communicate.  There are others out there that have had the same situation.  If you are one, you know what I'm talking about even though I have failed to communicate it properly.  More detail is best saved for another time.

I Hate Blogs

I hate blogs. I really, honestly do. That doesn't mean I don't feel like publishing one from time to time.

I think that the appeal of writing a blog is the ability to just throw one's thoughts out into the void, never having to address a specific audience, never having to engage in a multi-directional conversation...there's absolutely no responsibility to it. It's only half of a conversation. There are no ties to a publisher or commitment to a level of quality. Just whatever is on your mind can be shared in its raw, unprocessed form. If somebody else wanders upon your ramblings and feels like commenting, they're welcome to. If somebody agrees with you, that's great. If somebody thinks you're batty, well, that's even better. If everybody thought the same way, we'd have little to show in the way of scientific advancement.

So, why do I hate blogs? It's not just the stigma. It is very similar to how MySpace users are viewed (from the outside) to be loners, losers, or otherwise strange. Facebook and others are viewed similarly. When you grow up not ever hearing anyone's real feelings or thoughts, it's hard to get used to knowing everyone's unadulterated realities. It's not just strange for readers. It's actually a little bit scary as an author. Do you really want people to know what you are thinking all the time? Probably not. One's mind is the only place they are truly free these days. The government can tax your possessions, they can tax or outlaw your hobbies, etc. You aren't free in the physical world, but your mind...at least for now...is yours and yours alone. Don't let anyone pry that away from you. Think for yourself. Listen to others but draw your own conclusions. Don't let yourself be an automaton like most of the people around you. Perhaps this is a topic for another time.