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Why do people succumb to anger?


thoughts

It feels so easy to slip into its grasp. But at the same time, from a distance, it looks quite stupid. Aren't we overreacting? What's the point of hitting one another, yelling at one another, going to war with one another? Yet when are up close, immersed in anger, we feel nothing but blissful rage, if that makes sense. Sweet revenge empowers us. Makes us feel as if we are at the top of the world. Maybe it is a survival mechanism. But I sure wish it weren't.
to delve into language

Today, I spent most of my time looking at words and their meaning. For some reason, I really enjoyed doing that today.

I flipped through a copy of my uncle's old GRE prep vocab book. I am almost done with the A's.

I think the book made me realize how much language has been forgotten. No one looks up words for fun. No one tries to understand what language actually means. At least I didn't.

Language is a gift and a weapon. It is what causes misunderstanding. But I don't know if it helps understanding.

I think the thing with words is that they fool you into thinking you understand something, when you don't. Same with books. You read them and think you are at the top of the world.

Beatty was right.. (Fahrenheit 451) I cannot prove to myself that it is worth reading books and delving into language. I mean, everyone contradicts each other; you believe one author with all your heart, then come across someone else and then wonder who's right. Maybe one is. Maybe one isn't. Maybe they're both wrong. Or is there even a right?

I thought I understood words. But today, I realized how clueless I was.

Why do we think we understand something, when we actually don't?

I will be flipping over to the B's now. My favorite A word was ameliorate. I came across its French ancestor: amelliorer. There was also abstain and anomaly.

I should get into the habit of using different words. After all, there are so many to choose from.
a question of relations

I have come to a point in my thinking where I am questioning my relationship with many, save a few people. I feel like they do not listen to me. They do not talk to me about things that are of more importance. They put down other friends. They welcome me, crowd around me. Then, a minute or two later, they go off for something more interesting.

How can anyone live like that?

Thanks to my good friends, I am able to pull through. But I am really starting to question myself. What is a good relationship? Should we ditch people we can't connect with?

I feel like relationships have gone under extreme damage. I feel that a few feet of distance is a metal wall between two entities. I feel that I am trapped into this horrible play of society.

Every time I try to talk to people I want to, it feels like a one sided conversation. How does one resolve this?

I am looking for some answers.

I feel angry at people who used to be friends. I feel alienated from them. I feel disgusted.

But why? Amn't I the same as them?

I think that many people feel they are special, important, different from the others with a purpose in life. But this is also true: http://xkcd.com/610/

This has made me frustrated, how it is so hard to connect to people.

I guess this quote cheered me up: "Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn’t go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination."
Life Is a Driveway



Here are some of my other pics.. (:
life is a driveway



This is my photo essay. I guess it was my first attempt at photography.. and I think it came out pretty well! I'll post some other pictures that I took but couldn't include that I thought were good.
Who am I today, who will I be tomorrow?

For writing for pub, I am doing a photo essay on the following post.

A Question of Identity

There came a point in my life where I felt I needed to be rediscovered. Like I didn't know myself at all to begin with.

So now and then, I make my way to McClellan Ranch park, and settle down at my favorite part of the creek. I sit on a rusty drainage pipe, arms hugging my knees. I stare into the rushing water and try to find an answer.

I explore the depths of my mind, but only hear water slipping into nothingness. I implore myself. Who am I? Who am I?

The truth is, I have no clue.

When I sit down to write about myself, I find myself with an empty paper. What do I put on it?

I would put this.

I am a wanderer at sea. I look left, and right. I have no idea where to go. But my subconscious convinces me: I will get to where I want to. Somehow. Sometime.

I have no idea if that answers the prompt. Big B said we could base it off of experience or go philosophical. Philosophy is interesting thing. And so is experience... I guess I mixed both.. (: