THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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By A. Springs on Saturday, December 20, 1997 - 02:39 am: |
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By Megan on Friday, June 19, 1998 - 02:38 pm: |
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By Blue on Sunday, June 21, 1998 - 01:44 am: |
It takes years for me to become comfortable in a friendship. But it only takes a few hours before you start feeling lonely. |
By Whet on Sunday, June 21, 1998 - 07:26 am: |
One can even feel alone when living with someone else. Why does it take years for you to trust people, let them inside? Not being lonely means making friends and that means taking some amount of risk. Risk that you'll be hurt, that you'll be abandoned, that you'll open your heart and someone will take advantage of you. But... look at the potential rewards. I feel lonely. Most of my work is done alone, other than dealing with customers that are just that, customers and not friends. A lot of times what helps me is writing to someone thats a friend, that I really trust. Doesn't matter if they are thousands of miles apart. With the internet you can talk with them every day. Thats what I do. And it has made all the difference. That helps a lot with the mental side even the emotional side of being lonely, but there's still the touch of another human being. Depending on how you feel about touch. To me its a vital part of human psychi. And for me too that part usually takes years. So perhaps you're on the right track by reaching out and expressing your emotions. Not holding them inside. It feels like hell for me to bottle up emotions and not be able to express them to anyone, especially anyone that cares. So I write. A lot. And by bearing my soul and expressing my heart and feelings, sharing and exchanging thoughts and ideas, I'm not lonely anymore. Because I know I have friends that care about me. Hey Blue: *hugs* :) |
By Blue on Wednesday, July 29, 1998 - 08:51 pm: |
I'd like you to know that I'm not feeling so blue anymore... I think I might have exagerrated things a little in the last post, but depression does that to me. I do have a good friend here--we lie in the grass under a during lunchtime and chat. I don't have a boyfriend anymore, but I have memories and someone I can still call a friend. And one of the foreign students I work with says he'll show me around if I ever get my act together enough to visit the far east. Loneliness comes and goes but it never really stays. That's something for me to be grateful for. thanks for your support... |
But he 'still wants to be friends.' WELL! Make my life complete there why don't ya! Thanks a whole fucking lot Donavin... I swear, I take a risk in possibly getting hurt, and I get crushed... Men suck. How do we live with ourselves?!?!?!? -------- Jeremy (otherwise known as NIHIL) |
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I hate when I tell people I'm lonely and they turn it around to be my fault, tell me I need to learn to love being alone before I can even think about wanting someone in my life. Like there is something wrong with needing other people, like it makes me defective. Hello? Are you out there? |
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Do you guys know what the left-out feeling is? Let me try to explain. This is the peculiar feeling you get when you're in a social situation, and everyone is behaving in a way that to you seems strange and unheard of, but seems normal to everyone else. So it's like there's a social rule or context or something that you just don't know or never learned or weren't taught. So you can't participate. Example: I remember being in 10th grade...in February...a few weeks after the Valentine's Dance...in homeroom. Everyone (but me...but that's not the point) had gotten their formal pictures back and were showing them to each other. When someone would hand me her picture, I would usually ask about her boyfriend (how they met, how long they had been together, etc.). I noticed, however, that everyone around me would always first say "your dress is pretty, etc" then "oh, he's cute, etc" in that order. It was like protocol or something that they were following. But I didn't follow it, because I didn't know about it...no one had ever taught me or I had never learned on my own. And when I noticed the protocol and my inability to follow it, in a sudden wave I felt weird and awkward and deficient and, well, left out. What's so special about that? Nothing, except this is a discrete emotion peculiar to this sort of situation and it doesn't have a formal name. It's not embarrassment. It's not loneliness. It's not rejection. It's the left-out feeling. Except that's such a clumsy name. I need to come up with a new word. Second thing to say: I noticed something about myself last Friday. I never let myself fit in. When I'm around really proper, refined people, I act obnoxious and rough. When I'm around rough people, I act prissy and delicate. It's like I always have to balance the situation out. But no one ever balances it out with me. It's everyone on one end of the spectrum and lonely me on the other end. That's so annoying, and I don't know what I can do to stop it. Forcing myself to go along with everyone else doesn't help because that increases my discomfort, which makes me act even more awkward. So I just make a point of letting people know that I'm just socially inept and they shouldn't expect me to fit in. That way there are no expectations for me to fail to live up to. |
I never fit in. I dont worry about it much tho. |
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i would argue. at least sometimes. rhi, hang out with me, i'll balance with you |
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be able to seperate myself from the world. Until then, I'll always feel alone." I have an inner life that seems incommunicatable, at least to those I've tried to communicate it. Some thoughts and concepts are largeish chunks that dissolve when I try to shit them out. Others only present themselves when they're unneeded, like the thought of the lime green, exceedingly bright school building I had a dream about two or three years ago. This strange inner life seperates me from others. No one is on the same wavelength, it seems, so it only makes sense that I'd feel lonely, especially when I'm around other people. They just remind me of my fundamental lack of connection. Only solitude and silence (of the "nobody's speaking to me" variety) let me connect to those things that are connectable: the wind in a storm, my body, a computer, my cat, a hot humid sweaty forest. |
I like this about being human. It is the epistemological and existential divide. It cannot be bridged so that someone else has full access. Nor can you access someone else's interiority. Here's how I like to think of it: think of language as a bridge maker. The good thing about this for me is that there are many bridges I like over bodies of water I find uninteresting. Anyway, so the potential to build bridges exists, but they can't be directly to one another: identity basically means that you can only be fully identical with yourself and, I might add, only at any given second. Narrative provides the temporal continuity. I'm digressing. But these bridges...they just head out from someone into the great beyond. Keep being added to without a discrete destination. Occasionally they intersect and sediment builds up around the pilings and then...then you have an island which is neither the party of the first part nor the party of the second part but which is a place (an atopos since it doesn't really exist) where they meet in language. OK? So the existential loneliness will never go away, darlings, it's wired into you. That you think of yourself as you, someone who is not someone else, all of that, all of this ego stuff in the psychoanalytic and not the pop-psychoanalytic-Freudian-name-dropping-bashing-whatever sense, means basically that you can't get rid of it. I find the Of Lordship and Bondage in Hegel's magnum opus really helpful in understanding this. Althusser's 'Freud and Lacan' is also really instructive. In any case, when you don't like the loneliness you walk down the bridge. And you hang out on some island. The island isn't YOU, the person isn't fully transparent or knowable to YOU...but did you really want the totality of your existence to be the inside of your own fucking skull? The pictures you bring back from those islands actually work like contractors, they redesign the inside of your skull. I have my period and diarrhea and I called out from work but then came in anyway, and I love you guys. Got to go, must make causeways. Where's that confounded bridge? |
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The Doktor has spoken. That'll be a nickel, Chuck. |
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My mother spelled it phonetically. |
I'm starting to get annoyed with the way people are now. It seems like Everyone I know is complaining. about everything. isn't anyone happy about anything anymore? Margret, are you going to wear a white wedding dress when you get hitched? I love wedding dresses. I wish you could wear them to affairs other than weddings. |
Phew! That was a good little rant of yours, I'd say, and I'm still wondering about it all. Somedays I think too much. Other times I can't spell, or roll sushi. I am sorry I'll be missing your big day. I need an excuse to come to NM; yesterday, as I was packing stuff for my pending move to the woods, I found a hundred or so pictures of the Sandia Crest and sunsets and blue sky and my friends at Acoma. It surely is beautiful country out there. So do you think this is an atopos too, this soprabji land we inhabit? a nexus of contradiction and electronic soul meal? Just wondering. |
Gee: I will probably be wearing a cheomsang in red or gold. I surf custom-made cheomsang sites all day at work. |
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It's a cheongsam. http://www.chinese-tailor.com/ |
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I will feel lonely when she moves I think, because we have the same sense of humour/way of thinking which none of our other friends have. We often make the same jokes at the same time, and we seem to know what each other is thinking. Prehaps its a good thing she is moving away. no nonononononoonononono okay better now |
The friends are very earthy, good natured people, (disregarading the parental baby boomers here). I thought west coast weed was something to talk about. These kids are all superintelligent chemists and environmental scientists and have found ways to cultivate flavored pot. Blueberry weed is now something to write about. i asked for strawberry but none was available. Point being, in situations like this i try my best to find commonality, and then release my self in timed expressions, slowly but surely, trying not to overload. The fact i had traveled from LA was often the topic. When they saw me at the ceromony in my superfly new suit, when i shaked a leg to the godfather, they all cited it was an LA-thing.....my dancing ability most definitely did not spaw from being in LA, but i let them believe it. They thought i was the wild one, when the lines were cut, they looked to me first....yourfrom LA right, i am sure you are a pro at this......not really i said, your the one with the bag......I did meet one guy from Seattle, he had a "Truck" shirt, and told me a story of this guy with this modified weird looking truck and he abandonded it at one point ...but later made "Truck" shirts to get it back...(looking for seattle-ites who might know this story) anyway...once i find myself at a certain comfort level, i tend to let loose and i often find myself like Rhiannon, intentionally being the thorn...for example, when we were forced to stay in denver overnight because we missed our connecting flight to atlanta, in the smoking bar upstairs, watching the Colorado Avs and Dallas Stars hockey game, i was an ubnoxious Dallas fan, (where am I going with this?) sheeesh......nvrmnd |
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