Because writing crappy poetry is my coping mechanism..

The human personality is something that’s both intriguing and exasperating. On one hand, it creates a way to assess things that are far from tangible in their existence, yet on the other it unintentionally walls people into boxes.

I happen to have this ‘fatal attraction’ to people with complex personalities. They make me think. Inevitably, I come back to the same core questions: Can people really change? Is a personality a label, description, constraint, or something completely different? Am I constrained to my personality, and can any level of alteration make me different?

A person of my acquaintance and I recently had a conversation at length about the four humors, and I think I have developed a theory about the way the four humors ‘work’ in people. However, my articulation seems to be at a loss tonight, so I’ll talk about it later. Hopefully, answering my questions at that time as well. For now, I’m done thinking. Today has been longer than I’d like to admit; full of new questions, scenarios, and stressors. For your reading pleasure, here’s some poetry I wrote a couple of months ago. It’s kind of in the same vein, perhaps little off topic, but I don’t really care. ^_^

Desperate to please,

I forged for you,

A new me.

I watered down the parts I knew you despised.

Re-proportioned areas you’d criticized.

Faithfully, I adopted your likes, dislikes, and beliefs.

You soaked up the lies, much to my pleasure, and relief.

But, I didn’t stop at preferences.

That would’ve been very amateur of me.

Using your various signals as references,

Every facet of your personality, I matched perfectly.

I clouded out the truth,

Diminished all trace of it.

Every inch of proof

Vanished.

Yeah, it isn't that great, but this is the internet there has to be something worse out there than this. Heh.

A Well Deserved Explanation

It goes something like this:

I get onto the computer, I check my email, browse facebook, occasionally do something somewhat productive, and finally think to myself 'I should post on that blog I made..' As you can see, I never make it so far as to actually post. Reasons? I could say I don't have enough time, or am lacking the creative juice.

But really, I could do it or make time for doing it if I wanted.

The Question:"Well, dangit, then why don't you?"

The Answer: I'm trying to think of a way to communicate this to you, dear reader, with out waxing eloquent about my ulterior motives or something.

Eh, I guess I'll just break it down for you.

I wrote this blog to force myself out of my usual boxes; a relatively impulsive decision to explore 'who I really am'. That concept, right there, legitimately freaks me out. Which is why I decided to make this blog, ever so many months a go. A last ditch attempt to make myself figure out what makes me tick. Understanding how other people work is something that completely fascinates me. Figuring me out is another story; I'm afraid that everything a person might like about me is a complete scam.

Basically, I've been procrastinating writing this just because I'm scared of what I might find, or even worse, what you might think of those findings.

Oh well.

Overthinking aside, let's try this again. Posts forthcoming.

-C

Here I Am....

...Reservations left at the cross roads, I'm coming out. I've thought about creating a blog for a while, and I actually did create one, twice.

The thing is, each time it never felt real. Never was truly my words. Each time I sat down to blog, I felt like I have for every day of my life for the last several years of my life. Fake. Pretend. A Charlatan, if you would. And, every time I sat down to write a blog, I told myself I'd be 'real', but my reservations of people actually finding out the real me isn't what they wanted or envisioned or needed won out, and the drive to be accepted and well liked won out.

The majority of my life, I've been one of those adaptive people. For a while I simply ignored the fact that inside my person had become a grey, impressionable, copy cat. At some point I must have figured being well liked was becoming who every one else wanted. Lately I can't ignore that pathetic state I'm in. I've become emotionless for the most part. Soul less. Numb. Numb, to who I am, my opinions, my emotions.

I'm changing that.

The pretender is coming out, here I am. Who exactly that is...... we'll just have to find out.

-Char