Long essay (3400+ words) culled from my rambling sent pile of emails from nearly half a year ago. It’s about the passage of time and other things.
That will never probably see this anyway….
My name is Jennifer and I am currently an antisocial loner. I do not believe in greetings, intricacies of etiquette, small talk and other various social norms. I also hate introductions with a passion. I often will however, readily talk about things that I am fascinated about. Sometimes I will freeze because I am not sure what I am supposed to do. It may be obvious and easy to you but it is not to me. I believe that greetings are unnecessary, insincere, generally hokey, awkward and confusing. Please stop shoving them in my face and expecting me to return in like because I probably will not. Then it will be awkward and you will be confused. I hate greetings. It’s hard to keep track of how I’m supposed to react to them when I do not feel the way and I know that you are greeting for the sake of greeting and it’s kind of all moot anyway. I also have an aversion to handshakes. I suggest that you do not attempt this as you will not receive your desired or expected response.
Yes, I may pretend you are not there or behave in other ways that you may find odd. I’m okay. We’re okay. It’s okay. Yes, I’m uncivilized and unsocialized to a degree as I may subvert your notions of “normal”. That is fine. I know that but I refuse to succumb to the crushing disguise of “normality” anyway since I know it will never me and I don’t really want to unbecome me (you may want me to – but I don’t!).
Oh and don’t worry about be being rude and never having friends, my best friend is Solitude anyway.
So please go away and go greet someone else. Thank you. You may come back when you have thoroughly worn all your greetings out (as well as need to police social conduct, small talk and introductions).
Oh and that non-introduction – who/what am I? I am currently a student finishing an English degree at SFU. My interests include writing (articles, creative non-fiction and poetry), motion poetry/writing, web development, multimedia/new media, researching random things, technology, musing about existence in general, the forest, nature, dolphins and horses. “Friends” are currently, more or less abstractions.
Does anyone mean as they mean?
Maybe some things are as they seem
but you keep looking for hidden meanings
desperate for something other than what things seem
You’re not happy here, are you?
(Fabled fantasies, faded photographs, fear of failure
shedded tears, silly lists, shredded papers
you pack it all up and carry it as you wander on
creeping darkness to concrete)
Would you run into orbit if you can?
You run and try to fly but no one gives you a hand
it’s not that there’s no one there it’s just that there’s
no one who understands
Still, you take a step and blast away
climb the sky and pace around the planet
what did the moon say?
what did the stars say?
the day you became a satellite
(They said little but smiled
in the way that moons and stars
can smile to you
reflecting, radiating light so amazing
your eyes in awe at such a sight)
You’re still running around alone in circles but
now you can see the world that you were supposedly from
a blue-brown-green marvel, trimmed with white clouds
and here, there’s no borders, no buildings, no bombs
as it spins, gliding through space
on its marry way
(You’ll rather dance upon the milky way
and stay here in orbit for many more a day
you don’t want to go back down to the ground
since you’ve never belonged there anyway
even though you’ve tried to pretend)
But it feels like you’re burning up like a shooting star
you can’t feel the difference between air and land
everything is numb, cold under the starless sky
you swallow hard, you’re sitting back on the earthly ground
teary-eyed, since though you know you have gone so far
You get on your feet and walk into the now foreign landscape
everyone who you once knew are now strangers in the dark
you knew it’ll be lonely, but didn’t think it’ll be so stark
but maybe you’ll go somewhere now, instead of pacing endlessly in circles
orbiting the room
But you don’t
too scared to choose a path
thinking of the possible aftermath
so you’re still grounded
ready to take off again
Did the orbiting really happen in the context of the poem? I’ll leave it up for you to decide 😉 hahaha
If you’ve gotten here through my Facebook post. No you’re not seeing things, I DID edit that stanza when you weren’t looking!
Article published in The Peak. (SFU’s student newspaper)
Or at least that’s what I thought when I first discovered the word “hermit” as a child.
That was before I discovered the wonders of the internet and email.
Now I don’t know. I still live a very isolated life but it isn’t like I don’t like lengthy conversations about whatever is interesting because I do. But I hate the little things – I hate introductions, I hate greetings, I hate manners and I really hate fake politeness. I can tell when you are faking it. Please stop – it’s driving me insane.
In elementary school I never really had any “normal” friends within my peer group and outside my “special” class. In high school, I never made any new friends period.
I’ve haven’t made a friend since I was in grade 5 or so. I haven’t had a close friend since maybe early high school (grade 9 or 10). I do occasionally see a friend from my elementary school days, but I really feel that we have drifted far apart since.
I’m not even sure what friends are anymore and I laugh when people assume I have friends (plural). It seems like a ludicrous idea to me now. It’s even funnier if they think I have friends within my peer group. I know people often take friends for granted, but I’m so isolated from even the notion of “friends” that I’m not even sure what they are anymore. Most of the things I know about friends is from fiction. Likewise, I hate the message of “friendship is the best thing” yadda yadda yadda. It’s not. I don’t have friends so shut up about that.
I still joke about being a hermit – maybe in some shack in the middle of the woods with my pony. But I probably won’t be a hermit.
I’m just not quite sure what I would be…
I know it’s almost counter-productive but I just can’t seem to shake it.
But I think I have probably figured out my overriding fear. It’s the fear of failure. The idea that if you don’t try, you can’t be hurt by the disappointment of failing it (probably again). If your fears are no longer making sense and defying logic as mine were (as it was occurring randomly AFTER I should have been scared), then this is probably the culprit.
But I know now that it wasn’t the fear per se I was scared of. I was scared of FAILING jumping again. I didn’t want to fail it again. I couldn’t cope with failing it again. I imagined failing it again. So it was easier just to back away. I thought I’ll be able to focus something that I was good at but it didn’t really work that that way. Oh well. Besides, I’m pretty comfortable on the flat now (canter included) and of course flat work is always important no matter what you do.
I’m a pessimist too and I think it makes me more likely to fall into this great mess. I’m a pessimist with the same logic – if I believe it won’t work out as well as I thought, I’ll be more likely to be happy by defying my expectations and if it doesn’t, then I wouldn’t have failed myself. It makes sense right? Sort of.
In practice, it doesn’t work as great as you’ll think. So now instead protecting myself from failure, it often feels that I’ve failed in order to avoid failure.
I probably have other examples but that’s the most significant example that I can think of.
I don’t like to fail. I HATE failing. I really hate failing.
Oh and I only failed one test – some evil philosophy unit test…and really wished a black hole would come and eat me up then. (I passed the course though)
I know you have to fail in order to succeed but still…..arrgghh! Why does it have to be failure?
This world is not where
Everything is too strange,
too different, too normal here
as I watch the world
so close, so far
I wander, wait
and wish that those from the
otherworlds would come for me
take me by the hand
“come home” they’ll say
and I somehow know they will
as go into the world where we’ll
We’ll walk through dimensions
through the greens, wilds and waters
and I will go somewhere
back where I belong
where it’s I am part of the world
and not staring though a glass wall
and where I won’t feel so
lost and inadequate
But I’m here and not there
and much as I wish, I doubt that
my mothership or fairies will be
coming for me anytime soon
But where am I?
I don’t know
How is it that I can be lost in
I long for somewhere else.
I look around, unsure of where to go
and so I wander here, to and fro
hiding from the species that should be
my own and yet feel so distant from
And I don’t know why I’m here
or what to do
or what should matter
or what is my purpose
But I guess I’m waiting to
Note: Yes, it is inspired by “Stolen Child” by WB Yeats
Once there was
the feeling that
all my dreams would
back when anything was possible
Right now, everything feels
and everything is wrong
and I’m not good at anything
and impenetrable walls are
and some days I just want to
But I’m still here waiting
for days that will never come,
wishes that will never be,
friends that I will never have and
dreams that refuse to come true
so I dream of the days
back when anything was possible
Everyone tells me that
“everything will be alright”
and I try to believe them but
I just can’t
There are so many things that I
sometimes wish to do, to be
but just can’t fathom it
but it was different, back then
back when anything was possible
And maybe anything is still possible
but it seems broken,
shattered into pieces and lost
so still I walk out into the chilling wind
and let me mind fly away from reality
to a world where anything is still possible
I can’t find it. I’ve tried looking for it. Got frustrated. Threw things around. Had a fit. Still never found it. Then I become grumpy for the rest of the day. That’s the typical story of me trying to found something.
But I can’t find myself. I’ve tried peering in the empty boxes and containers, tried looking in the cracks and gaps, tried looking under and over, dusted cobwebs and dust bunnies on things. But I still can’t find me.
I’m not sure who I am anymore. I used to know – or at least I thought I did but now I’m not sure. Where am I? And where did I go? Who am I?
Everything is so confusing. Yet nothing is moving. I guess I don’t have to be afraid of unbecoming me if nothing is moving anyway.
I’ve tried looking everywhere around me – inside, outside but I can’t find myself.
Maybe I don’t belong here. Or maybe I was never here. Whatever the case, I’m not quite sure where myself is….or where it is going.
Yeah, I haven’t posted for a bit…a bit occupied with an article and lots of things going on my head.
Everytime I google something about wandering – for some reason, something about travelling pops up. Now, I’m not a traveller. I don’t even have a passport right now and I haven’t been out of my hometown since…since…since…a long time. I don’t remember. But I wander. A lot.
I’m a wanderer, yes. But I’m thus far, not a traveller. I never go anywhere in anything. Whatever I do, it seems that I stay in the same place. Doing the same thing. Being in the same place. Always the same place. I don’t like being lost. I like the familiar.
But familiarity breeds frustration. I can’t say I like staying here either.
Not moving. Not coming. Not going. Everything looks the same from here.
Oh yes, I travel – even if I wander around in the same place. I travel in my mind. Still going nowhere – not really.
In my life now, I’m not a traveller.
I never go anywhere or see anything novel. Everything looks the same. Feels the same. Sounds the same. I’ve haven’t been out of the lower mainland for years – although I have managed to venture into the forest a few times (not with my family, of course – they are boring). Every day almost feels like the last. I feel like I do not progress in anything, except maybe school. I’m stuck scraping against walls.
Yet I’m a wanderer. I often wander around. Walking aimlessly. Dashing randomly. And most of all, ignoring everyone else and everything around me. Oh sometimes I watch the trees, the crows and the clouds – but I’m so often lost in myself. I of course go nowhere, just pacing around. But I think of things, far beyond my boring life.
I still don’t really understand why people don’t like it. I’m not really here. I’m okay, but I’m not here right now. My head is somewhere else (it was enough for a student to attempt to guide me to class when I did it just before my class a few years ago). Maybe it’s an “all or nothing” thing – you’re either “all there” or you’re creepy? Then I run away and hide from people. Don’t get me started on people who are intent on getting a response from me. Why bother? I’m clearly not interested. Anyway…and why does everyone think I’m lost??! I am lost. Sort of. In an existential way. But I know where I literally am.
Even while wandering, I always stay in the immediate space. I don’t really go anywhere (although my mom seems to be unable to find me but anyway…). So I’m a wanderer – yet, I really don’t go anywhere, even while wandering off….
I’m a wanderer, not a traveller. And the wanderlust is not for travelling because I never go anywhere. It’s for wandering.
Oh and although I’m a massive introvert, I don’t mind being in public places as long as there is room to wander around – and then I tune everyone out and wander into my own little mind. Oh well, maybe that’s why it’s okay then. I’m not interacting with them – they’re just objects to me to avoid. If there is not enough room then…well then, I would like out…now!
So I wander but never go anywhere. Always back and forth or around in circles. Maybe that creeps people out too….