underwater

I am such a loser. I just started going though my papers, just to see what I've done this year...and I stumbled upon a paper I wrote last semester for my froshie writing/intro to college lit class. It's really hideous. Not only is the language at absolutly nothing more than a third-grade level, but also I have a "fuck-you I'm done with this" moment about halfway through. It's actually kind of amusing. Looking at my paper, you can see exactly where I decided that I was completly done with the paper and anything written thereafter was going to be complete bullshit.

It's really sad acutally. To think that my attention span and level of disinterst is such that I can decide halfway through somthing that I've written that I just don't care anymore. I mean, earlier this semester I decided that I wasn't going to do that anymore...which I guess is good. It's not really fair to me or my professers for me to halfass my work. I'm (somewhat) fully capible of writing a halfway decent paper. I should use that ability to, you know, write papers that don't completly blow.

Anyways, the specific paper I checked out had somthing to do with the idea of rebellion...which (either fourtionally or unfourtionally) got me thinking. What really is a true rebellion? Let's pretend rebellion can range from the tiny to the huge. If someone from a conservative family (both morally and politically) comes out as a vegan, neo-hippie lesbian...is their rebellion as profound as a nation's rise against an acerbic monarchy--as such the case of the French Revolution? I mean...if we placed this on a either a quantitative or a qualitative scale...I think the French Revolution would rank higher than the divergance from a family's stringant beleifs. But, I don't think it should. There really is nothing that says someone's personal rebellion is more important and striking than that of a nation.

The word rebellion also got me thinking about percieved social norms aka architypical labeling. I don't really see the point of it. But it's interesing to see why we do it. What makes other people...humanity...society...think it is an acceptable action to place one individual into a specific group with specific charactoristics? Does our brain need to sort out each person's behaviours by organizing or labeling them as members of a social group or class? Because someone is xyz and is doing lmn then they are members of the efg group. I don't get it. But...it would be an intersting research project for someone to check out if they were psychologically/socialogocally inclined...if someone hasn't done it already.

I think I'm starting to...I dont know. Miss school. Like classes. Except I have the first day of my summer courses on Monday. I think more than anything though...my brain is feeling the lack of a challenge. Not saying that my people here aren't smart or anything, but there is somthing tobe said for sitting outside or anywhere and just basking in the free exchange of ideas.

One of my most vivid memories is from when I went to visit Israel last. Ava, Yael, Carmit and I went to this amazing little Bedowin village for a night. The four of us were awake...awake all night, just talking. It's so liberating to be in a place, as that tent was for us, where no topic is off limits and your thoughts do not have hto have any logical order in the way they tumble. And tumble, they did. It was so weird. Ava, she is so passionate about everything, whatever she said...it errupted from her mouth in hues of bright red and pumpkin. Whereas Carmit is a bit more reserved. Her thoughts, regardless of topic, escaped gently from her mouth...slowly twisting their mellow teal threads into the massive evolving pot of conscienceness we were creating. Yeah, our thought process. There was none, really. I think that is what made it so profound. Just the lack of order. The rigid structure we generally abide by traded for sheer entropy.

Which is so weird, I think, because I see order in everything. Like if you take a picture of a girl's ribs...I think my mind imprints a grid made of the basic structure of the object or frame on it and that grid is now able to be placed upon somthing completely different, like a rose petal. And it is that grid that makes the beautiful lines of emaciation one in the same as the lines of the rose.

It kind of makes everything connected. Thoughts. Images. People. We are all inherently alike. And I think that's what scares us the most.