once upon a time

there lived a hamster in a shell

and outside the shell he could see many other hamsters, some in shells, some not, some's shells translucent, some completely colored in, some with shell bits hanging off of their fur, scuttling around happily all the same

the hamster could talk to all (most) of these other hamsters

the hamster admired some of the other hamsters, particularly those who had no shell, those who seemed able to speak and laugh and say all the right things at all the right time. hamster could never do that. hamster made friends with other hamsters in pink translucent shells, and they rolled around together and jostled each other playfully on the hamster wheels, but never close, never hard, because of the shells in the way

one day, a shell-less hamster that hamster loved very much fell off a ravine and was never seen again

much, much later, years later, hamster shattered his own shell with his tail and ventured out shell-less into the world, sniffing cautiously this way and that

and looking at his shell bits on the ground, he began to cry and cry and cry

because he finally realized that breaking the shell was not a magical key to some fantastic world of freedom and joy and love (although it certainly helped you steer)

he finally realized that that hamster, whom he loved and admired so very much

was just another hamster

doing his best, venturing bravely into the world, getting hurt and thwarted like everyone else (maybe worse, because shell-less ones take the full force of the blow), and simply smiling and joking and tucking his tail in and standing up again, each time

he was just another hamster, doing his best

and now hamster could never learn his story

hamster says

to everyone:

squeak squeak! squeak squeak squeak squik squik squee squeak squeak SQUEAKSQUEAK squeeeeeek squeak squeak! squeak...


(which roughly translates to:

hey everyone! i didn't even know i would one day want to know about this guy and i was still upset, so if you DO know what you want, please don't shy away from going after it! don't do something you'll regret...)

on death and dying

steve pavlina says that treating death as a great tragedy is a societal norm, something imprinted unto us that we should, perhaps, rethink. death of a loved one is pain, death of a stranger is news. yet they are all deaths. so he says, what makes them so different?

i would like to say, because we love them

and what makes you not love everybody else in the world as well?

because i'm human

because i don't have the emotional capacity to connect deeply to everybody else in the world, as much as i would like to

reading my journal makes me happy. i think there is a reason i tend to write in here when i'm happy. i think it's because i think those are the moments worth sharing. i also write in here when i'm trying to work something out, because writing helps it come out of my head

i get really confused, sometimes

but i'm trying

i remember a period of my life when life was just gray

all day every day all the time gray

i don't know how many of these livejournal posts were made during that time, were made in an attempt to find the light in the grayness, were so-called trying to convince myself of something that i didn't feel was true

i'd like to think that this was not the case, but rather that those were the few moments of genuine joy that were so good, i had to share

emotions are confusing because when you're really down, you think you were always that down, but it isn't true

i remember also a period when i was wandering around in fog

and it wasn't so bad, but there were a lot of things

i thought i should be enjoying

and i wasn't

not enough, anyway

maybe that's what happens when you live in fear

and now the world is full of color

and it isn't all sunlight and flowers

and i'm still wandering around in fog

but i've got me

i'm here

no one can take me away

and that makes me happy, even if i can't see what's ahead of me