Small talk turns to dust in my mouth.

Why do I look away, when people look into my eyes?

I don't think about it.
It's just that when I am engaged in conversation and eye contact is established, it's impossible to maintain. I don't think about it. It just happens, or doesn't happen, or starts then stops happening. I involuntarily look away within less than a second. And I don’t even think it’s one of those social courtesy type things. You should be able to look into someone else’s eyes without having to go through an entirely separate thought process, right?

I must have conditioned myself. The notion that if I was looking into their eyes they must be looking at mine, and I don’t like my eyes, so what if they don’t like my eyes, what if they are silently judging me as they speak. Years of eye contact being associated with human contact. Human contact being the thing that would lead to that involuntary, uncontrollable rush of blood to my young face. Like accidently knocking over a glass of water and watching the surge of liquid flood the surrounding area.

I blush.

Don’t get me wrong it got better, it’s 2009 and I can speak to people I don’t know and remain a pale freckly pink. But there was something about how I had developed as a teenager that made the concept of ME being the centre of attention, well to put it bluntly, downrightfrickinterrifying.
Those parents evenings where I would cower behind my mum, praying not to be asked a question. Those inevitable school classroom presentations where that lump in my throat refused to budge, no matter how many times I tried to swallow it down, stumbling over my words, my face burning and prickling under the fluorescent lights.

I never could take a compliment. It’s not something you can just accept without thought. It’s another human being making the effort to let you know they genuinely like something about you or something you have created. And it needs to be appreciated, and it’s a little bit scary.
Sometimes, when I feel secure and confident that it is heartfelt, I can genuinely bring myself to agree (This is when the definitions of the words “sometimes” and “rarely” have been swapped in my mind-dictionary).

It’s just that somewhere along the line something made me a bit more comfortable with being me. It’s close to coming full circle. I almost like blushing now. I just need to work on being able to stare into people’s eyes. Talking about things that matter, that’s a challenge for another day.

“Beware, the world is more fierce, mysterious and beautiful than you imagine. And so are you.”

Theonewithnoprospects

I'm not that competetive, pretty "laid back". Almost the opposite of how I was as a child.
As if my spirit broke. But not about everything. I just felt there was no point arguing over the last biscuit when you could just let the other person have it and avoid confrontation. Things were going to be how they were going to be, so worrying myself to tears kinda disappeared.

I only really fight for things I believe in, and when I do I can stand my ground. I can kick ass, which is the way it should be. A lot of things irritate me, but I tend to ignore the majority of stupid social phenominons. Ignore them and they might go away?

I like to discuss. I talk alot but rarely say anything. But some people just don't think about what they are saying...

Par Exemple:


i just dont get excited for stuff anymore least that way when im doing what ever i can enjoy without previous expectations

aw well thats a shame

or alternativly not be dissappointed so it is good in some respects If u dont have any expectations of anything, you cant be dissapointed

Sometimes the excitement is the best bit...
Like the getting ready for a night out.
The waiting to see someone.
Or the building the house on sims.
You are allowed to look forward to things, or there would be no point in doing anything.
Just dont sweat the small stuff
Don't go around making disappointment when there is none.

you like making me fuck up and findin loop holes in what i say dont you!

-------------------------------------------------------

Whats the point in living if you cant make other people trip up.

YOU. MAKE. ME...?

Christopher Wool "Untitled"

I could write an boring 2000 word essay about how many meanings this image *might* have.
About how strongly some people argue its "right" to be classed as art.
About its context and impact, or lack thereof.
About how I liked it so much I went to the gift shop and bought the postcard.

But I'm not going to. Instead I'll just post a photo of it on this blog. Get it out of my system for now. Until I can generate some kind of rough rambling on the semiotics of it. (Signs, symbols and meaning, and the study thereof)

(cont.)
It's detonation is just three words, painted on a wall, in a large size and in a stencil style sans serif font. (Mmm alliteration)
But it's connotation is that of a saying, a statement, someone trying to communicate something... or maybe nothing. The artists own attempt at a transmission. And we are recieving.

The set of lectures on semiotics have begun to help me understand why this particular piece of art appeals to me. The basis of human fascination, when something defies classification, people are curious and attempt to find meaning in everything. It’s the same words or actions, but it could mean any of a number of things. When it's syntagm is in more than one paradigm set?...
Explained as best I can here:

The Paradigm is like a particular set of words all meaning the same thing, and the syntagm is the choice of word you make. Like “He couldn’t feel the pain/pane when he fell through the window” said out loud this could mean two completely different things. Two different people could infer two different meanings from it.

But it’s this concept that apparently makes cult films popular, they can’t be placed into a single genre.
Their sytagms are in many different paradigms simultaneously

Which is part of what makes them fascinating.


You complete me?
You force me to do this?
You created me?
...?