John Noble (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jackofallgeeks) wrote2001-11-29 10:38 pm
jackofallgeeks) wrote2001-11-29 10:38 pm
Entry tags:
We Have Nothing To Fear But That Hideous Creature In The Closet....
Pardon my philosophical tone, but I'm awake when I'd rather be asleep, and try as I might it's not happening. Thus, I shall attempt to convey knowlege once again through this medium. We both know you'll read it anyways, and if not, I'd still be awake. Let us proceed.
I think, in a sense, I live in perpetual fear.
It's quite an interesting observation, if one thinks about it. Truthfully, I'm not the one to worry about things, as most anyone could well tell. But even giving that, I precieve "worry" most precicely as a dwelling on fears, not so much as the fears themselves. Though it may be argued that I am 'worried' about a given possibility when a fear I have prevents me, or at least hinders me, from acting. That is not the topic for discussion, though, so I will simply say that it is not the case.
I am, I think, afraid of a great many things, though I think I may well be a happier man to the extent that I leave my fears behind and act freely, without regret. Regret is perhaps my nemesis, if you will, though at base that statement doesn't quite make sense. Take a look at it and you may see what I mean. But I digress. I digress. I digress all the way back to my original statement.
I am afraid of a great many things. For fear of sounding stupid, in the many different senses of the word, I often don't speak. One may find THAT hard to believe, after reading this journal for some time, but this journal is, in part, a temporary escape from my fears. In so much as being understood is my greatest desire - which I'm still unsure whether it is or not - to that extent, being misunderstood is my greatest fear.
And that fear explain much of what I do, or more precicely, what I don't do. I was afraid, one may recall, to write the letter to Emily, a letter I desperately wished to write in order to express mysaelf, in the hope of being understood. I feared to write it for the possibility of being misunderstood, due to the failings of written, or even verbal, communication. As wonderous as they are, words can fail in much. I now 'regret', if you'll so allow me, sending that letter for the fact that, once again, I fear being misunderstood, though this time for the fact that I'm not sure that my meaning was adequetly conveyed, either in the form or the substance of the letter.
Another fear I have, I should think, is to an extent approaching people. Again, I think, my foe is the idea of 'implications', or ideas that may be pre-attached to situations and the like, I suppose. As one may tell, I'm at a loss for describing it. I like to imagine that I 'don't care' what people think (though, a topic for another time, I think that's an impossible statement, in it's basic nature), but essentially, I think that's similar to what this fear boils down to.
In a sense, I suppose, if I fear being misunderstood, my biggest fear is in what people might think, though not in the conventional sense of the phrase. I'm not AFRAID, per se, of people 'liking' or 'not liking' me (or so I imagine). It's rather a fear that someone misunderstands me, which is a much different thing. A person can dislike me, I don't aim to please all, though I don't intend to wrong anyone. The basis is that they either like or dislike me for who I am, I should suppose. A quote I heard one, or rather a rhetorical question which I enjoyed, was "Is it better to be loved for what you are not, or hated for what you are." That question, and my inevitable choice of the latter, reveales something of me.
In anycase, I suppose I shall once again attemp sleep - I've been accuse of being "windy", and I would hate to aggrivate any of you figment-people. ^_^
It's only 10:40, there's no way I can get to bed this early....
I think, in a sense, I live in perpetual fear.
It's quite an interesting observation, if one thinks about it. Truthfully, I'm not the one to worry about things, as most anyone could well tell. But even giving that, I precieve "worry" most precicely as a dwelling on fears, not so much as the fears themselves. Though it may be argued that I am 'worried' about a given possibility when a fear I have prevents me, or at least hinders me, from acting. That is not the topic for discussion, though, so I will simply say that it is not the case.
I am, I think, afraid of a great many things, though I think I may well be a happier man to the extent that I leave my fears behind and act freely, without regret. Regret is perhaps my nemesis, if you will, though at base that statement doesn't quite make sense. Take a look at it and you may see what I mean. But I digress. I digress. I digress all the way back to my original statement.
I am afraid of a great many things. For fear of sounding stupid, in the many different senses of the word, I often don't speak. One may find THAT hard to believe, after reading this journal for some time, but this journal is, in part, a temporary escape from my fears. In so much as being understood is my greatest desire - which I'm still unsure whether it is or not - to that extent, being misunderstood is my greatest fear.
And that fear explain much of what I do, or more precicely, what I don't do. I was afraid, one may recall, to write the letter to Emily, a letter I desperately wished to write in order to express mysaelf, in the hope of being understood. I feared to write it for the possibility of being misunderstood, due to the failings of written, or even verbal, communication. As wonderous as they are, words can fail in much. I now 'regret', if you'll so allow me, sending that letter for the fact that, once again, I fear being misunderstood, though this time for the fact that I'm not sure that my meaning was adequetly conveyed, either in the form or the substance of the letter.
Another fear I have, I should think, is to an extent approaching people. Again, I think, my foe is the idea of 'implications', or ideas that may be pre-attached to situations and the like, I suppose. As one may tell, I'm at a loss for describing it. I like to imagine that I 'don't care' what people think (though, a topic for another time, I think that's an impossible statement, in it's basic nature), but essentially, I think that's similar to what this fear boils down to.
In a sense, I suppose, if I fear being misunderstood, my biggest fear is in what people might think, though not in the conventional sense of the phrase. I'm not AFRAID, per se, of people 'liking' or 'not liking' me (or so I imagine). It's rather a fear that someone misunderstands me, which is a much different thing. A person can dislike me, I don't aim to please all, though I don't intend to wrong anyone. The basis is that they either like or dislike me for who I am, I should suppose. A quote I heard one, or rather a rhetorical question which I enjoyed, was "Is it better to be loved for what you are not, or hated for what you are." That question, and my inevitable choice of the latter, reveales something of me.
In anycase, I suppose I shall once again attemp sleep - I've been accuse of being "windy", and I would hate to aggrivate any of you figment-people. ^_^
It's only 10:40, there's no way I can get to bed this early....
Staying awake all night, vibrating...