2/22/2006
Meaningless conversations

Well, who couldn't help being philosophical, when you're fed with different philosophies thrice a week?

It was Kizia who told me one of those words of advice that I've always initially found overused and ineffective: be yourself. That was eight months ago, at a time when always-confused me was trying to find a place in the crowded college world. Fast forward eight months later, and I somehow ended up following that piece of advice and, well, found my place - and my own share of whatevers and whatnots. I guess, though, that's for another entry.

Then, Martin Buber comes in and changes all that - well, not everything, but at least there are a few aspects that suddenly need some more clarification. If not for us being really ourselves can we have an authentic relationship with other people. I remember me getting tangled up in such a controversy back then, and then things still changed, and some people thought I was really doing those two words all along. But sometimes I get surprised with me doing things I thought was uncharacteristically me, and then, the usual drag-down would lead to me thinking I faked everyone again.

But maybe, just maybe, no one really is true to one's self, or to everybody for that matter. Who among you guys can confidently say that you are the same all throughout, without any reservations? I guess it did surprise me when I spoke up without anything holding me back during these past weeks, and I guess that's my supporting statement.

But one thing that striked me, though, was another concept of Buber's - that conversations are simply, in his words, speechifying. If I got our lecture earlier correctly, it's been all a little excuse for linkage, instead of a real effort to connect. One's talking, one's listening, and vice versa. It's like nothing really ends up happening - and nothing, therefore, sparks up. Isn't it true - you could be blabbing to me one time and I may not be listening, after all.

So go reassess. Who are you to everyone?

In my case, still-always-confused me doesn't know where to place himself, but I'd like to admit I'm somehow guilty of all this. And then, it's me who's always searched out into the corridors looking for someone to talk to, or to even hug, if I feel like it. It's me who wanted a false sense of assurance every time things just pop out and decide to spin themselves with a lot of mess. Do conversations even mean anything, or have they simply become a tool for superficial communication? I mean, anyone can bypass the chat and touch the soul. I have bypassed the chat and am attempting to touch the soul.

I have bypassed the chat, and have come out shaking. I've lost my assurances.

After the first paragraphs, all cooked up in the middle of Philosophy 2 class, it was the usual things at the usual times. Chat with Abby on Sociology class about double majors and swimming. Chat with Eena on Literature 1 class on continuous The Sky Over Dimas delays and Summer Solstice folk influences. Chat with Clarence convincing me to join the GMG. Chat with Cuyeg and Malia as I looked for someone to have lunch with. Chat with Jaja over whatever's missing in the soup we had over lunch. Chat with Jino (disturbing his chat with Ale) on him changing for swimming class. Chat with Martin as I expressed exhaustion, boredom and the obvious lack of comfort. Does any one of those chats matter?

But I'd probably simply presume, that I'm just tired of all of the stuff I've been thrown at, obviously, and I'm injured to the point that I suddenly don't know what I'm talking about. Yes, again, brain cells oozing out of my head. I even forgot to mention the birthdays of Martin and Loui during the past couple of days. Or maybe, the best thing I could call this is reprioritization. Or, that could be another excuse. But, if all of these things are going to end up nowhere like those meaningless conversations we are having without our knowledge, then I wouldn't accept them, thank you very much.

Not that I'm whining about the day or anything, but maybe I've had too much philosophy for the term. I was almost there, though, thinking into the night about things I've always been glad to deny.

And your responses...

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