Superficial Wondering
   I spend a lot of time sitting, thinking, wondering, wandering, ... and unfortunately, it's not half as useful as a ponderous philosopher would tell you it is. The whole point of wondering, of wandering, is that it won't be superficial. This sort of journey, self-reflection or whatever you want to call it, will be, or at least is meant to be,  enlightening, or have some sort of non-materialistic, purely psychological, emotional, spiritual, value... really? I think purpose is over rated. I hate it how there must be a reason behind everything we do. I hate it how I have to justify everything I do, and I hate the assumption that I can justify everything I do. The stupid part, is that people equate the inability to justify one's action with immaturity. My immaturity and my reluctance to validate every single thing I do are completely unrelated.. ..... Why? Maybe there actually is a reason behind everything we do. Even if it is as minimal as something like "cause I felt like it." .. Oh I don't know, it's all so confusing. A lot of the time I don't think things through enough to justify them before I do them. Not even a bit. If the thought enters my mind to eat an apple, I will eat the apple before asking why. Is that youth? Is that adolescence? So is there a point to all the time I sit and think? Is there a reason I sit and think and .. wonder ... if "we are but dust, and die we must?" (John Skelton - Upon a Dead Man's Head) or whether maybe there is some ultimate - profound - meaning to life. Maybe if a journey from existence death is our ultimate purpose in life it's profound enough.. .. ..

   I never really understood why I spend so much time wondering. I'd spend at least a few hours a day trying to escape the hustle and bustle of life by retreating into the confines of my mind. So logically, for all the time I spend thinking, I should have at least something to show for it. Should, but don't. My life is just a series of non-events, of non-realities.  My life is a string of wacky adventures, every single one more psychologically scarring than the last. To tell you the truth, I feel like shit...  See, I like this girl and she doesn't like me.. See, I've got 1,000,000,000 assessment tasks due right now.. See, I'm not sure if my friends are really my friends.. See, I don't know where I'm headed in life.. See, .. . .. For Crying Out Loud.. .. I Wish I Could Just Have The Same Problems As A Normal Teenager. Do you have any idea how much I would give to like a girl and not be liked back? I wish I had some sort of insecurity in my friends.. The truth is the problems I struggle with are a lot more elementary. I don't even understand what there is to like about girls, dating, sex.. I don't get what it is to love, - aside from a few poetic adages - ... I mean, by loving someone, all you're doing is putting your heart on the line to get smashed by an imperfect human. Why do we play these pointless games? Maybe I'm turning Buddhist. Maybe I'm too scared to attach myself to anything that could ever be taken away, and so I only grasp onto things that nobody can take from me. Things like God, things like ... is there anything else? I mean, people come and go, they stab you in the back, they stab you in the front... No matter what I love, all I'm doing is making it out to be something it's not. If I love a person, I make them out to be someone who might possibly love me back. When truth is they're not.. If I love a musician, I make them out to be a pure musical, non-commercialised entity.. Have I become so arrogant that things have to meet a certain level to, in a way, deserve my love? That's pathetic.. .. Well, considering I don't even know what love is, I guess I'm doing alright..

   I can copy how to love.. I can give things, I can do things, write things, say things, I can sacrifice my life (a la Jesus).. but for the most part all these things are just dictated to me by my religion, by society, by.. everyone around me.. I mean, I don't even know if I've experienced love. I think love doesn't exist as a level of affection or respect or something, well, for the most part because it's a subjective thing, and you can't argue that one person loves someone because you don't know what love for them is, and if you do, who's definition of love are we going by, yours or there's? There's no set standard you can measure it by .. . hmm... .. I mean, I could say I love you all, I could buy you presents, I could compliment you all the time, I could die for your sins.. .. but would that mean I loved you? It would mean I knew how to love you, but I still wouldn't know whether I loved you or not.

I doubt it matters how much I might respect, adore, like, be fond of, admire, desire, endear, fancy, cherish, revere, prize, sympathise with, take an interest in, be partial to, and take you as to whether or not I love you, or maybe it does. My love isn't really worth all that much is it? Who am I to love you? Who are you to require my love? Not that you do. Not that you should. Not that you would. Not that you ever, ever, ever will. Not that I will ever have anything else to offer but my love. Not that my love is anything  you will ever want. Not that these words mean anything. Not that you and your kind will ever care for me, not that you should, not that you would.. .. ...

   I think I've become so cynical and bitter about society that I have to question every little thing that goes into my brain. Even my Christian Faith, which at one stage was just well, doctrine, is continually questioned in my mind. Not sort of good questioned, but annoyingly cynically questioned. I guess we've got to learn to deal with so much stuff. And yeah, cynicism does have its upside, I mean, it strengthens those things that continually survive the questions.. But it removes me from society so much. .. And yeah, ..  .. ugh just one of th.. .

What the .. I don't get it. .. I don't understand any of this. Why do I spend so much time thinking and so little time answering the questions I ask? See, I won't answer that question, I'll just move along. And by the end of this stupid, stupid thing, all I've done will be think, and what will I've accomplished? Does anyone enjoy reading these rambling, ambling, gambling thoughts? Does it do anything other than try and force itself into a market, already clambering with Teen Angst and bad grammar? It's superficial. It doesn't have a deep purpose.

1. Of, affecting, or being on or near the surface: a superficial wound.
2. Concerned with or comprehending only what is apparent or obvious; shallow.
3. Apparent rather than actual or substantial: a superficial resemblance.
4. Trivial; insignificant: made only a few superficial changes in the manuscript.

[Middle English, from Old French superficiel, from Latin superficilis, from superficis, surface. See superficies.]

superficiality or superficialness n.
superficially adv.

+Hing--->Out
My three greatest fears, are that I will give up Christ, that I am superficial, and that I laughed like a country bumpkin