A shiny new entry for a shiny new template.
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science."
--Albert Einstein
At twenty-four years of age, I won't even pretend to have complicated blueprints of my mind. Much of how my mind works (especially my reactions to different stimuli), is still a mystery to me. To be honest, I really do not intend to ever try mapping it out one hundred percent; that would take all the fun out of discovering more fascinating things about myself with the dawning of each year of my life.
I do not possess, and have never possessed, a silver tongue. Words and prose simply do not flow out of my lips and fingers quite as easily as they do for other people. I have to work at them, have to pull them kicking and screaming out of my subconscious, and still I am left with the impulse to alter them again and again. Even now, I'm not sure what I want to say or where I'm going with this. Maybe I don't even have a point, maybe these are the ramblings of a creatively challenged girl with nothing left to say.
Somewhere, deep in my mind, I formed a picture of the perfect life. I'm not sure how this happened, or even why it happened, but I am sure that it does exist just as surely as it taunts me to an unattainable standard of beauty and perfection on an almost daily basis. I've always condemned this vision as my downfall, but I believe I need to embrace it before I can move past it and begin to form my own reality of what I want versus what I always thought I should have. Happiness is fleeting, as are so many good things in life, and I can't look towards any picture of perfection without admitting that even that will only last a certain amount of time. I need to embrace my "here" and "now", rather than my "could have been" and "should be".
So that's why I've made this change. Decorus Poena used to stand for the beautiful pain of sexual sadism and masochism, but I've come to understand that it encompasses so much more than that. Life is beautiful pain. Living, loving, growing up, making hard decisions... all these things bring beauty in their pain. Life is simply a set of impossible situations that people spend more time agonizing over than reveling in. The beauty and pain of life is, indeed, in the living.
--Albert Einstein
At twenty-four years of age, I won't even pretend to have complicated blueprints of my mind. Much of how my mind works (especially my reactions to different stimuli), is still a mystery to me. To be honest, I really do not intend to ever try mapping it out one hundred percent; that would take all the fun out of discovering more fascinating things about myself with the dawning of each year of my life.
I do not possess, and have never possessed, a silver tongue. Words and prose simply do not flow out of my lips and fingers quite as easily as they do for other people. I have to work at them, have to pull them kicking and screaming out of my subconscious, and still I am left with the impulse to alter them again and again. Even now, I'm not sure what I want to say or where I'm going with this. Maybe I don't even have a point, maybe these are the ramblings of a creatively challenged girl with nothing left to say.
Somewhere, deep in my mind, I formed a picture of the perfect life. I'm not sure how this happened, or even why it happened, but I am sure that it does exist just as surely as it taunts me to an unattainable standard of beauty and perfection on an almost daily basis. I've always condemned this vision as my downfall, but I believe I need to embrace it before I can move past it and begin to form my own reality of what I want versus what I always thought I should have. Happiness is fleeting, as are so many good things in life, and I can't look towards any picture of perfection without admitting that even that will only last a certain amount of time. I need to embrace my "here" and "now", rather than my "could have been" and "should be".
So that's why I've made this change. Decorus Poena used to stand for the beautiful pain of sexual sadism and masochism, but I've come to understand that it encompasses so much more than that. Life is beautiful pain. Living, loving, growing up, making hard decisions... all these things bring beauty in their pain. Life is simply a set of impossible situations that people spend more time agonizing over than reveling in. The beauty and pain of life is, indeed, in the living.
This entry was posted by Mellie, on
Tuesday, November 29, 2005.
