I was deeply depressed by my incompetence in solving this problem last night. On the other hand…I enjoy feeling dumb in front of my kids and was happy to find that I was not wrong after all.
I am at a cafe and just ate half of a blueberry scone and after this, I will force myself to read for my class at the school library. Creative non-fiction might be my genre because I am honest and I am interested in big ideas and I write about my experiences all the time. I like to read the scientific books, which means I am interested in facts. I still need to read more and learn how to write because my writing doesn’t have the research part and it lacks the language skills that good writing needs.
I have started to take English 273N, a creative non-fiction writing class at a community college. I wish to write something I like and complete my stories, so I can move on to something new. Maybe I will take a philosophy class next year? Or a film writing class? Or I will keep writing creative non-fiction.
But another part of me is trying to escape, like how I tried to escape from studying philosophy in school in the past. I was interested in philosophy, but I couldn’t commit myself to my courses. When I had to work on reading or assignments, I just wanted to go shopping and do something else instead. I was being irresponsible.
Maybe I am trying to escape from the possible failure and embarrassment. I wonder if my work will be good enough and people will like it at all. Nevertheless, I will write for myself first. Even if it’s not good, I will enjoy myself and know that I’ve done my best.
I really miss writing journals and having them edited and posting them to the blog. It’s not for anyone else but me, and the simple activity makes me happy. I enjoy writing for myself when I don’t feel the pressure to try to be accepted.
It’s been quite windy since yesterday. It feels like a typhoon is coming, but it’s still sunny and hot in the afternoon. The tea store manager was right, I need to increase my working speed. Maybe I think too much and it’s preventing me from working efficiently. I need to do whatever I feel like doing when I feel like doing those things because the thoughts didn’t just appear suddenly. However, I should always try to finish what I started first.
The author of Empire of Illusion criticizes the big corporations for making money from Americans by controlling the government, but Hedges also says that the government and the people have themselves to blame. If Americans choose to remain passive about politics and refuse to be aware of how bad the situation is, the dignity of American culture will be destroyed by themselves. This book helped me to understand how Trump became president of the United States.
The more I think about it, the stranger it seems that we exist on a place like planet Earth. It’s amazing that we just happen to have everything we need to survive: the air, water, the ozone layer, the temperature, and the sun. Of course we are not the only ones living in the universe, but in any case, I feel we are very fortunate to have been born in a place like this, although we are not doing our best to deserve what we have.
I feel morality is a human being’s goal in life. When one fulfils one’s duty to be a just human being, s/he lives a good life.
For example, cooking is my duty as a housewife. The problem is I am too lazy to cook, however the problem is solved once I have accepted my laziness, because I have accepted the reality of my role and “who I am”. The rest is doing what I need to do as a housewife, which is cooking.
Other than living a moral life, I think whatever holds a person together is what determines his/her existence. Without writing, I end up as entropy, the randomness of energy.
When I exited out from the parking lot tonight, I heard someone shouting on the sidewalk, I ignored him, but later, someone else was shouting, then I realised the shouting sounded like “Lady! The lights!” I finally realised that I didn’t have my lights on and then I turned them on.
I am starting to see what I am interested in. Maybe “mistakes”? I told J that I am good at picking up other people’s mistakes. I can write about the mistakes I notice, but I worry if it will piss people off. If I only write about the mistakes people make or the logical inconsistency I find in people’s action and thoughts, I worry I will become someone who only pays attention to the flaws in humanity? It sounds like a dark life and perhaps people will hate me for pointing out what they are trying to hide or have ignored, but sometimes I think we stop growing when we don’t try to admit the mistakes we have made.
Sometimes I can’t help but feel upset when someone makes fun of me: I am offended because I am a human being. I guess the people who make fun of me feel good in doing so; they feel superior. I am not bright, but I am my own person, and having my own thoughts matters the most to me.
We went to sit in front of the Apple Store to get free wifi. I edited one more journal. I can edit a journal entry faster if I know what I want to say with the journal. There are usually many things on my mind when I write, but I only need one strong message. My day could be interesting, but what’s the point of sharing all the details of my experience with a reader? No one is going to pay attention to what s/he doesn’t need to know.