Dried Up Tears

After sharing with a friend of mine that I had recently watched the film 'P.S. I Love You' she asked me if I cried at any point. I said no, and she asked me why. I didn't really know what to tell her. I just didn't. I only remember crying perhaps a handful of times in my entire life and I recall pretty clearly each event leading up to the emotionally induced tears.

There were a few times I shed some tears over scrapes and bruises around the age of twelve or so, but those were pretty insignificant events. Around the same time, my great grandfather died. I don't remember my first reaction to the news, but I know I did not cry at first. It was later in the day, after dinner while my family was in the living room. I was lying down on the couch face first and very randomly while my mother was talking, tears started streaming down my face, soaking into the couch cushion. It wasn't something I was used to. I glanced around the room and wondered why I was the only one crying. One strange thing about this is, I wasn't particularly close to my great grandfather. I had very brief, yet happy memories of him.

My memories of my childhood are very scattered, but I do remember certain bits and pieces with vivid clarity. I don't know the reason, but I used to induce tears as a way to put myself to sleep. This was probably during my middle teenage years. I would lay in bed staring up at the ceiling imagining the demise of close family members. The burning sensation in my eyes, two separate tears streaking down the sides of my face and onto my pillow gave me a strange source of comfort. It may or may not have been some sort of release for an unidentified factor of stress in my life at the time.

The last time was in a diner about three years ago. I won't go into the details because of their personal value, but I'll say that I had been drinking with some close friends after a pretty significant event in my life. At the table, after sharing with my friends what had happened, I stared at my folded hands for a good five minutes, and shortly thereafter had the sudden need to vomit. But instead, I started to cry. Quite profusely and violently I might add, I have never cried this hard, for this long in my life. It was totally unavoidable, I couldn't stop it.

In a way, I feel as though I used up all my emotional tears in that one night. The event that transpired changed my life forever. I had come to a realization of something I've been forever dreading. In my life, this was of most importance. Nothing could ever come close. And nothing has thus far. I have not shed a single tear since that day 3 years ago.

I never quite understood why people cry during movies, books, or after hearing something depressing on the news. I never did cry about them in the first place, but many of these events are occurring around the world every second. It may not be on the news, but somewhere in the world someone's father has just died. A mother has had her second miscarriage. A train has derailed and twenty people died. Why do people just cry about these things when they are reminded of them? Maybe that's it, they are reminded. And when this happens, they become immensely empathetic. Psychology! It's infinitely theoretical in my opinion.

I've lead myself to believe that nothing could ever surpass this one turning point in terms of how much it affected me emotionally. But what's strange is that I haven't cried about it since. If nothing else makes me as sad as the realization I came to that night, why do I not cry about it often? I am constantly thinking about it. It's always on my mind. Five minutes don't go by without the thought running its course throughout my brain.

Nothing a quick google search can't take care of! I came across this article. In case you don't feel like reading it, someone conducted a survey on the effects of a "sad" movie on both "normal" and "depressed" subjects. I put these words in quotes because I have many issues with semantics. In any case, they found that the depressed folks actually cried less than their normal counterparts. And suddenly I had an epiphany!

THEORY: I am suffering from long-term depression. I've been living with it for so long, everything just became a blur. It has made me become numb to everything around me. Depressed people don't cry because they have nothing to lose, while "normal" people cry because they have everything to lose.

Putting most of that theory aside, I can definitely come to the conclusion that I am indeed depressed and the root of it all seems to be the reason why I no longer cry.

Step 1 to recovery: Admitting you have a problem.

Step 2 to recovery: Do something about it.

This should be interesting.

Selfishness

"Selfishness must always be forgiven you know, because there is no hope of a cure." - Jane Austen

Yesterday's quote of the day inspired me to write a little something about a trait in people I am constantly analyzing. I looked it up and I guess its a quote from her novel Mansfield Park. The only book I've read from Jane Austen is Pride and Prejudice, so I'm not quite sure exactly why she wrote it or how she really feels about selfish people. Obviously from the quote though, selfishness is constant and unchanging.

It is a theory of mine that the human race is motivated wholly by self interest - the view of a cynic. While it may appear that some folks are selfless, their actions in some way or another are going to benefit them. It is only human to be selfish, it's in our nature. It may be considered a selfless act to help someone in need, but how I see it is this: either they are helping someone else to make themselves look good, or to make them satisfied emotionally. Either way, they themselves are going to benefit. It's also human nature to be compassionate - though not everyone carries this trait. An example would be like the one I just described, or a simple as a mothers unending worry about her offspring. It's part of the reason the human race is so productive.

I suppose this is also a semantics issue. A stigma has been attached to the word selfish. When one person tells another person that they are selfish, what they are really saying is that the person is not compassionate, or respectful.

I have no problem admitting that I am a selfish, egocentric being. I am, and always will be the most important person in my life. A couple sentences into this blog, I looked up and saw an empty milk carton on the counter, next to my trash. Most people I know don't recycle. So I'm sitting here thinking, if all of my actions are really motivated by self-interest alone, why do I recycle? Nobody sees that I recycle, I don't get any money back from doing so, why do I do it? This is the point where I introduced compassion. I think most people have some sort of degree of compassion. Compassion, although beneficial for others, is just another way to make oneself feel better. And that's fine.

A Blog About Blogging!

Feeling the need to write and having not a clue in the world as to what to write about, I found a survey! Here goes...

Do you like the look and contents of your blog?
Being as lazy and carefree as I am, I picked one of the premade templates. It's pretty simple and easy on the eyes, so I like it just fine. The only thing I changed is the background. Regarding content - If I didn't like it, I wouldn't keep writing. Although I do often post a blog one day, and come back and edit it if something doesn't look right.

Does your family know about your blog?
As far as I know, only my mother and sister know about it. They're pretty much the only ones who actually use the internet, so that might be why.

Can you tell your friends about your blog? Do you consider it a private thing?
I could and I think I have in the past sort of indirectly wishing they might read it, but I won't go out of my way to make sure they know. Blogs are not private, period... unless you lock them. The only reason why I post my thoughts on the internet is the wish that someone might read them. I have the link to this blog attached to many of my other websites such as facebook. I consider it a sort of fishing, hoping someone might bite.

Do you read the blogs of those who comment on your blog? Or do you try and discover new blogs?
If I got any comments, yes I probably would. I occasionally use the random blog function at the top of the page out of pure boredom, but I rarely come across anything I'm interested in reading. More often than not, I find most of the blogs I follow through google searches I conduct throughout the day on various topics.

Does your blog positively affect your mind?
Again, I wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't helping me in some way. If you've ever seen or read the Harry Potter series, a blog is sort of like the pensieve. It's a way to log memories and thoughts to both get them out of your head and to refer back to them at a later time. If you're lucky, you'll even get some insight from the blogger community.

What does the number of visitors to your blog mean? Do you have a traffic counter?
It counts the number of people who view your blog by tracking their IP address. Am I right, and I right?? Hehe, I believe blogspot has its own built in traffic counter, but I don't look at it very often.

Do you imagine what other bloggers look like?
If they don't already of a picture of themselves on the blog itself, then no. All I really care about is the text.

Do you think blogging has any real benefits?
It's acts as both a sort of journal and a form of communication, so of course it has benefits. Whether its just personal or political, blogging has become a very large form of media.

Do you think that the blogosphere is a stand alone world community separated from the real world?
Not at all. This isn't the Matrix (well it is a matrix of sorts), this is the real world. I suppose there are some specialized communities of bloggers that tend to stray from the real world, but I would imagine that most of the people who participate in blogging to actually connect further with the world.

Do some political blogs scare you? Do you avoid them?
I'm not particularly attracted to many political blogs, but I do follow some.

Do you think that criticizing your blog is useful?
Yesir! I welcome criticism. I do a lot of it myself. I do hope that is constructive criticism though, and not just an insult or sarcastic comment.

Have you ever thought about what would happen to your blog if you died?
Nope. Thinking about it now, I would assume that it would float in cyberspace for a while until blogspot decided to take it down...whenever that might be. My mother or another family member might print everything I've written just to keep me alive in their hearts (you'll never catch me saying that again). Actually, I used to keep a livejournal. I haven't updated it or even logged in for more than a couple years and yet it still exists. I suppose its a way of living after death.

Which blogger has had the greatest impression on you?
I can't really single out one blogger.

Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?
See above.

Name a song you want to listen too.
I suppose I have a problem picking favorites. I have my media player set on random at the moment. The last few songs consisted of Stereophonics, Radiohead, and Built to Spill.

What does your blog title mean? (I added this question)
It serves as both my blog title and screen name, so I get many inquiries about its meaning. I thought it was pretty straightforward. Muse means to think about, to ponder, to mull over....while a parade is a public display of culture or beliefs. So together, they make:

A public display of thought.

My Favorite Films

Before Sunrise and Before Sunset have got to be my two top favorite movies. Surprisingly, I identify more strongly with the latter despite it being the sequel. I first saw them about four years ago. Actually, after seeing Before Sunrise I didn't have any idea that there was a sequel. I remember seeing a movie (I think it was An American Werewolf in Paris) with Julie Delpy and later researching what other movies she was in. I've never been a huge fan of Ethan Hawk or even romance films, but I thought I'd give it shot. I was not disappointed. I think I watched it a few times in a row.

Shortly after seeing the first one, I discovered there was a sequel. It's really quite fascinating, the films were made nine years apart, which corresponds to the time the two characters in the film spend apart. The differences in their appearance also reflect that, which make it that much more believable.

Since then, I've seen quite a few chick flicks and not many have compared. I suppose I'm a bit of a fan of bittersweet endings, so that has something to do with it. Movies such as Lost in Translation and Once come close.

I watched them both again yesterday, one after the other and they are still just as good as when I first saw them. I repeated the last twenty minutes of the sequel several times because they were so precious. Every single strong feeling they had, repressed for nine years, comes spilling out in a single car ride.

*****Warning*****Spoilers*****

I wouldn't call them gripes, but there are a few issues that I wish to expand upon. During the car ride, there's a moment when Celine (Julie Delpy's character) starts shouting and asks the cab driver to pull over. All throughout the movie, after spending about an hour together, she didn't once raise her voice in frustration. What's stranger is that Ethan Hawk's character Jesse didn't actually do much talking leading up to the point where she became so distressed. She basically talked herself into the moment where she almost jumped out of the car and ran away. I suppose I find this odd because I'm not very familiar with mood swings such as these. I could definitely see where she was coming from, but I don't understand her sudden need to repel Jesse after just spending so much time with him in a calm environment. I suppose it all to do with peoples personality and how they deal with strong emotions.

After thinking about it a bit, it makes more sense, but what I didn't quite understand after first seeing it, is why she was so mad. It almost seemed as if she was expressing animosity towards Jesse, when in fact it was her own problem. Jesse was the one who was stood up. He was the one who flew all the way to Paris only to find out she wasn't going to be there. He's the one who should be mad, and yet he's the one being yelled at. All the time leading up to this point, she didn't seem to be all that upset for not meeting him after that six month period. Earlier in the film he even asks her, "oh, why weren't you there" and she responded nonchalantly with "Oh, well my grandmother.."(her grandmother died either that day or shortly thereafter). Of course later in the film she confessed that she had been concealing some things, like the fact that she remembered they had sex. So this might be part of the reason she threw a little tantrum, it was an explosion of pent up feelings.

I just realized that I've spent that last few paragraphs trying to figure out and explain a woman's emotions. And there you have it, the difference between men and women (generalized of course). She did actually care, so much so as to have spend the last nine years of her life regretting what could have happened. She went on and on about how she poured all of her romance into that one night they spent together. Than afterwords became numb and unable to connect again. To me, this was just a long winded way of saying that for those nine years, she hadn't felt for another person what she felt for Jesse that one day.

In a sense, we all have that one person who we compare everyone else to. It may not be your ideal mate, but it is a person in your life you have either dated or befriended who you've identified with on a deeper level than anyone else. It may be a collection of people, a handful, or even just a few. We use this as to gauge new people we encounter. If you're lucky, you'll find someone who goes off the scale. Hell, you're lucky even if someone comes close. This may or may not be true, but from what I know... and from personal experience, we spend an abundant amount of time thinking about this person. Even if you are in a relationship... you might even be somewhat happy with it, but if this person rates even a 9/10 on your mental scale, you can't help but fall victim to the constant flood of thoughts of what could have been, what could be, and if you're willing to repress these thoughts for the sake of your current relationship.

Friendship: Part I

I've never really had a best friend. Sure, out of all of my current friends I can pick one out as my closest, but as far as a "best friend" goes, I've never had the pleasure. I'll define "best friend" as someone you talk to more or less on a daily basis, someone you know almost everything about including but not limited to their favorite color, current crushes, and ambitions. From what I know, most of these types of relationships are formed mainly in the years of adolescence. After high school, in addition to life moving very quickly, you are exposed to so many more people. You not only have less time to establish these sort of relationships, but also a plethora of people to choose from.

Most male relationships in my life up to this point have superficial at best. I can't really say female relationships have been much more fulfilling, but there definitely is a significant difference. I admit much of the reason for this has to do with my personality, but also lies in the contrast between the male and female psyche. I'll be honest, I've never been very social. I would even go so far as to call myself a loner, mainly because I'm very picky as to who I associate myself with. Not because I feel as if I am holier than thou, but because I can only stand being around a certain sort of person.

Among the people that I converse with, more of the personal conversations have either been with females, or gay men. Surprising to me is that I have straight male friends who I myself am more similar to, and yet have not gotten very close to. There seems to be some sort of mental block that prevents us from becoming emotionally close. It is for this reason (among others) that we strive so hard to find our female counterpart to share these unexpressed feelings with. This is just a theory of mine.

After watching shows like Sex and the City, if you don't already have someone in your life such as Samantha, Charlotte, or Miranda, you start wishing you did. You also get to wondering about what capacity these sort of friendships exist in real life. I would imagine that deeper, more meaningful relationships exist mainly among women friends, while males maintain a more laconic sort of friendship.

So why is there such a strong need to find such a friend? Personally, a like-minded peer I could confide in sounds extremely appealing for more than a few reasons. Being very introspective, I've become pretty self reliant. I don't often reach out for advice, but that extra objective opinion may make all the difference. From my perspective, finding a best friend is very similar to finding a romantic match, which can be extremely challenging. The main difference between a best friend and a romantic partner is the physical intimacy. Sharing similar feelings and exchanging thoughts and opinions provides comfort, for whatever reason, and that is the importance of maintaining that sort of connection. The problem is finding the person and allowing the relationship to mature.

In the meantime, I will continue to be my own best friend.

https://youtu.be/1qIV_4JVEN8

If only straight men could get this close ;D