IJesusChrist
Holofractale de l'hypervérité
- Inscrit
- 22/7/08
- Messages
- 7 482
So as most of you may know I'm at college, or was. I came home for summer a week ago and alot has been going on, the awakening of old memories & neurons getting greased up again. I have realized I drink alcohol way too much. Technically I believe I am considered an alcoholic, as are all of my friends. If I drink... I have a hang over, there is no inbetween.
The bigger story here is, I was going through alot of my old writings, back about 3,4 years ago when I had my first psychodelic experience and I was attempting to put it in words. All my stories got to about a page in length and stopped, I just couldn't explain the actual experience. Although they did bring it right back, which was actually comforting.
My mother had written, well copied and pasted alot of emails from my aunt during the time she had cancer. The emails followed about 5 months of her life, and then abruptly ended, she had passed away at that point. Life & death and how sudden it is.
I realized my friends at college have supressed my passions and my motivation, the first conversation with my friends at home brought it all back, why I wanted to go to college in the first place, why I had to do something with my life, and why I was depressed, which is not a reason to be depressed, it was a reason to be motivated.
Then this morning my mother was talking to me about how she was going to stay home today.
I asked "Why, you're not sick... remember when you got mad at me for staying home from school?"
"I don't know...[series of excuses]... I just don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life."
I don't really know what I should have said, or what I should say now to this. My mother is depressed and severely unmotivated for anything. She hasn't cleaned the house in ages, she doesn't like to finish anything she starts (anymore), the lawn is 10 feet high, and she doesn't want to work.
This is my own problem, and I will talk to her this weekend a little more in depth, but it brought a profound question (which I have asked you all before);
What drives us to be motivated?
For me, my original motivation, the real mcCoy to live, to have an existance, stemmed from anger, not love. I saw the situation Earth was / is in and lit a fire deep inside me. I needed to repair something, and that, I suppose, is where love came in - I love the Earth. I love nature, the trees, the bird's song, the unique plants, the baby mushrooms, the wind.
But in order to see that - I needed anger.
A little less dramatic is motivation for school work;
In order to get motivated for school, I simply must get inspired. I think of Einsteing, Hawking, Feyman, Schrodinger, Tesla, the great minds, and try to mimic their motivation and their desires. Of course I can't quite seem to get there.
... Ritalin ...
Oh momma... how do I help you. The cosmic sadness...
The bigger story here is, I was going through alot of my old writings, back about 3,4 years ago when I had my first psychodelic experience and I was attempting to put it in words. All my stories got to about a page in length and stopped, I just couldn't explain the actual experience. Although they did bring it right back, which was actually comforting.
My mother had written, well copied and pasted alot of emails from my aunt during the time she had cancer. The emails followed about 5 months of her life, and then abruptly ended, she had passed away at that point. Life & death and how sudden it is.
I realized my friends at college have supressed my passions and my motivation, the first conversation with my friends at home brought it all back, why I wanted to go to college in the first place, why I had to do something with my life, and why I was depressed, which is not a reason to be depressed, it was a reason to be motivated.
Then this morning my mother was talking to me about how she was going to stay home today.
I asked "Why, you're not sick... remember when you got mad at me for staying home from school?"
"I don't know...[series of excuses]... I just don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life."
I don't really know what I should have said, or what I should say now to this. My mother is depressed and severely unmotivated for anything. She hasn't cleaned the house in ages, she doesn't like to finish anything she starts (anymore), the lawn is 10 feet high, and she doesn't want to work.
This is my own problem, and I will talk to her this weekend a little more in depth, but it brought a profound question (which I have asked you all before);
What drives us to be motivated?
For me, my original motivation, the real mcCoy to live, to have an existance, stemmed from anger, not love. I saw the situation Earth was / is in and lit a fire deep inside me. I needed to repair something, and that, I suppose, is where love came in - I love the Earth. I love nature, the trees, the bird's song, the unique plants, the baby mushrooms, the wind.
But in order to see that - I needed anger.
A little less dramatic is motivation for school work;
In order to get motivated for school, I simply must get inspired. I think of Einsteing, Hawking, Feyman, Schrodinger, Tesla, the great minds, and try to mimic their motivation and their desires. Of course I can't quite seem to get there.
... Ritalin ...
Oh momma... how do I help you. The cosmic sadness...