All things....
Wednesday, Apr. 11, 2007 12:14 PM

"If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude." - Maya Angelou

Just a warning... but this entry is a long one.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. While work may frustrate the hell out of me sometimes and I need to vent that frustration, what I need to do most of all is either change my attitude or get a new job. I suppose that's the goal I'm going to take on for 2007: to get a new job or change my attitude.

So many people bitch and moan about their lives and about other people. I really don't want to be that kind of person. I'd like to be remembered for being kind, patient, and completely tolerant of difficult people. I'd like to be able to view things from their perspective so that I may understand them.

It's a given fact that it's easier said than done. No matter how patient I try to be, there always comes a time when my patience is tested. It used to be while I was behind the wheel of a car or having to deal with people at work. Anymore, I try to take a deep breath and focus on what is making me feel anxious inside, because the majority of the time it has nothing to do with them. It has to do with me. If they blow a gasket and take things out on me, I know it doesn't have anything to do with me personally. It's something that is going on with them.

I approach the chatroom I go to with the same frame of mind. I speak to a lot of people that come and go in that room on a personal basis. I love people. I love getting to know them. I love learning about their lives and what's important to them. But even though the majority of the room has befriended me, there's always that select percentage who love to hate.

I'm not the only one they hate. They act extremely spiteful towards some of the other chatters in there, too. A lot of people give these chatters an excuse for their hatred. They tag them as being jealous, envious, bitter and lonely. I've even been known to declare them obsessively psychotic since they tend to put a lot of effort into hating people. Perhaps these people are that way. I don't know. I don't know them. I don't plan on getting to know them either. We all have a choice on who we surround ourselves with, and I've chosen to place these people on permanent ignore. After all, their hatred has nothing to do with me personally. It has everything to do with them.

Lately, when these people are brought up in some random conversation I may be having with someone, it annoys me. I've placed these people on permanent ignore. I really don't want to hear about them, or be told how much they love to hate me. Everything was going fine until Ryan told me that Sarah (a permanently ignored one) had somehow managed to get the link to my new diary and was passing it around to people like Rachel (another permanently ignored one). All of a sudden, my ignorant bliss was destroyed. No, it wasn't because they somehow managed to get the link to this diary. It has more to do with the fact that I was being pulled back into the drama chain, the last place I really feel like being. Honestly, anymore, it doesn't matter to me if they read my diary or not. As long as I'm left out of the drama chain and the current gossip loop, I'll be happy. If he wants to be a part of that lifestyle, it's his choice. I just don't want to be a part of it at all.

Enough about that.

Most days I crave simplicity, but it's extremely hard to find simplicity in today's day and age. It almost seems as if the world revolves specifically around the consumption of goods. If we're not spending our money on materialistic products, we're spending it on food. If we're not spending it on food, we're throwing it away on cheap entertainment.

I would love to clean out my entire house from top to bottom and start over. The only thing is, I have attachments to some of the things sitting inside my home. I've also inherited half of the furniture from my family, beautiful maple wood pieces that my grandparents left me... china, porcelain, hand made quilts... all of them handed down through the generations and left to me to carry on the tradition.

I know that when people die, it doesn't matter anymore. The stuff we leave behind isn't important. It's just stuff after all. We could lose these things in a fire that destroys everything. We could lose it all in a hurricane, earthquake, tornado or flood. What good is it to us then? And yet, we spend thousands of dollars on items, clothes, and other goods that only sustain us for the moment.

Do they even make us happy - or is that happiness bought if only for a little while?

I know that when we die we're alive, if only for a little while. As long as there is somebody around to remember us, to carry on some memory they have of us, we're alive. Once that memory is gone, once the photos in some family album become some unfamiliar face from decades or centuries ago, when future generations stop visiting the grave where we've been laid to rest... that's when we die.

I stare at photos that have been saved by my family, photos of nameless people who have come and gone before my time. What did they see and do? What did they feel? Did they carry on the family name or let the name die with them? Would I have liked them at all if I had been alive during their lifetime?

I know eventually I'll become like them. I'll be some nameless face inside a family photo album. My desires, wants, needs, and emotions will disappear with me. It won't matter 100 years from now if I was anorexic or obese, if I was blonde or brunette, or if I had a million tattoos and piercings covering my body. It won't matter if I owned a house or rented an apartment, if I drove a Lexus or a Jeep, if I had a million dollars to my name or didn't have a single penny.

It's rather depressing to think about, isn't it? Even if we didn't give birth to a child to carry on the family name, it wouldn't matter. A link would forge elsewhere. Human life would continue forward with or without our donation to the species.

So then, what is the point of existence? If it doesn't matter what we own, if it doesn't matter 100 years from now who we were, and if it doesn't matter whether or not we procreate, then what is the point of existing?

People are born everyday. People die everyday. Some people live long enough to make a difference in the world, while others die before they even have a chance to take a single breath. Some people live to be over 100 years old while others die of disease or famine by the age of 10. Animals and bugs suffer the same consequences. Why did Ashley die at 6 years old while Tabby lived to be about 14?

Why did Ross have his life taken away from him once he turned 17? Why did Rachelle die in a car accident at 16? Casey at 17? Why did Anna and Grandma die from cancer? Grandpa from congestive heart failure?

Why were some of us born into a life of privilege while others were born into a life of neglect and abuse? Why are some women and men beaten to an inch of their lives by their significant others while other couples share and sow the love only dreamt of in fairy tales? Why are some animals battered while some are raised in loving homes?

I think about all of these things often. And everytime I think about them I have to ask myself, "what is it about life that keeps pulling us forward?"