Mega Face Palm

I have been going through my past entries and it's like I am being smacked in the face, right between my eyes every so often. I have to tell you what a startling revelation that all is.

When did everything become so melodramatic? That is such crap. It all sounds like a broken record, I even get tired just listening to myself. I guess if you're constantly talking about yourself, than eventually you do loop around countless times to end up at full circle. You keep who you are, but you incorporate new aspects of life given your flexibility meter.

And with that, why does everything have to come off as so tragic for it to mean something? or for it to feel like it matters? I sound like a fucking idiot at times, but to be honest I always randomly ramble lol and will probably always be a nerd. But this past month, I have become to love it and myself either way, so neh.

It hits me so bluntly though, that is seems like I am reading a completely different person. Thoughts of "who the hell is this person?" sift through my mind as I allow and at times force myself to read 'someone else's' thoughts, daring myself to see how much reliving of my so unstable lost self I can actually endure. Haha, god I sound like such a schizophrenic, but that's just it, human beings are so multifaceted that it is impossible to clearly define. Because by the time you have figured it out, a person has already changed again.

But to speak earnestly, you can't really compare who you were then to who you are now. Even as I at times skim entries I have written from last year, it amazes me how different I sound from who I am evolving into now, but I am always changing every moment and never the same person twice. My mind is always mechanically on, automatically working to produce entirely new thoughts of understanding depth. It's a bit incredible how much anything can change given any time frame, whether a lifetime or even a few seconds. Although people will always have that something that makes them who they are, and will at times resemble a familiarity to a past self, I don't think anyone could really be the same person twice if you allow room for adaptability. But of course there are always ways to argue the other sides. Everything is always open to any interpretation.

Voltaire said in Candide, that the purpose of life is to 'cultivate one's garden.'
The one constant in life is that everything is in fact inconstant, especially the mind. We come already preprogrammed with intangible emotions and the ability to own fluctuating state of minds, one of human nature's twisted games. It's the human condition to be perpetually flawed, but it's how and what you choose to do with and about it that makes all the difference.

I don't know why, but always after being in it (you know, in the special good place in one's mind- the zone), and finishing up an extensively thought out entry of real substantial metaphysical theorizing, I always feel so much better after writing. Being able to come to a satisfied conclusion by picking your own brain apart and allowing your eyes to connect with your mind, the capability to see what exactly it is that you're thinking -all laid out in front of you, so that you're able to fully structure everything and put it in fluid order so further bolster and jump-start fresh thought process- leaves me with an amazingly right feeling. Being able to really work everything out to the nth degree, breaking it all down and really getting into it- leaving nothing left unturned, I think this is something I will always love because it's entirely all my own thing; It will always bring me back to ground and clear up my head no matter how farfetched and silly everything gets.

But compared to the entire spectrum of life, everything is in fact all rather silly isn't it?