Self-Loathing

There was a movie I saw once (or a billion times) called Before Sunrise. Ethan Hawke's character Jesse has a line where he talks about why so many people hate themselves.

"Seriously, it's just that they are sick to death of being around themselves," he says in a night-long conversation with cool Frenchwoman Julie Delpy.

I get this. Jesse's absolutely right. I have just as many neurotic tendencies as anyone, maybe more. I liken myself to those anxiety-ridden dogs that are brought to their adopted homes for the first time and, like, spend all night curled up in the corner because HOLY SHIT THERE'S FOOD. Not that I'm comparing myself to an abused animal or anything - I just freak out at almost anything that seems vaguely normal. Ask me to do something vaguely weird, though, and it's like I'm as calm as Crater Lake. What's that even about? But yeah, these dogs. They can't hate themselves like us humans can. See, eventually they even out. They nap on your couch and hang out with you. They have no life outside of sleeping, running and eating and you are just so envious of them for that. Then you hate yourself because you can't be a dog.

It's this funny thing about self-loathing. I think it stems out of comparing yourself to others, even dogs. There was a comedian or actor once who talked about how everyone hated their early 20s. It's just that no one knew it then, and we all thought that we were flailing alone in this pit of despair and expensive poutine. The grown-ups didn't know it then. Us early 20-somethings? We won't realize it 'til later, when all of our money is spent on rum and we're sitting alone on a loveseat with our knees to our noses.

So yes. This concept of feeling alone. You look and you look and you look at the shiny Facebook faces smiling back at you. This party or that party. You're thinking - why don't I go out and have fun with my fun friends as well? And then you remember that you hate that. And then you feel abnormal for not wanting to stand in a room of sweaty people, looking around you to see if anyone is having any fun. We're so bored of ourselves.

It's things like this that have become worse with Twitter and Tumblr and instagram and all that shit. There's less of a filter in these places, so then you find yourself in your bathrobe on a Saturday morning scrolling through blog posts of friends past, inwardly weeping because you have no more cashews left. Not that I've ever done that or anything.

I don't know what's happening anymore. I think this is coming from this influx of super pretty party people pictures being posted online, and me just wanting something simple instead. Like more sleep or for more rain to come so that grass can be green.

Anyways, here's my latest happy song. Get listening.

Speeding

There was an article printed the NY Times about Emma Koenig (lil sis of Ezra!) and her blog, Fuck! I'm in my Twenties.

I feel okay about the blog. However, I really like the video below. It's written by Emma and directed by her and David Seger - incidentally, her bf. Saw it about a month ago and was reminded of it again upon reading that article. So yeah. Here ya go.

Wanderlust

I think summer is in its winding down mode now. I'm getting used to work and to my awful habit of sleeping at 3 in the morning each night. I've been spending many an evening in a dark cinema watching whatever film came out this week. I'm not even bothering to wait for Cineplex Tuesdays (10% off for Scene card members!) because I'm dangerous. I like rushing to the mall at 8:30 pm because, hey, if I get there with half an hour left to shop, maybe I won't spend so much money. I've settled into summer. And that, I think, means it's time for it to end.

I don't think that would be the case if I had somewhere to go, you know? I love traveling. I have always loved traveling. But I have a lot of trouble overcoming personal hurdles like my inner stream of dialogue that speaks exclusively of my spending habits. It's terrible because, for some reason, it hardly questions the $15 or more I spend almost every night, but it seems to stand in the shadow of Kilimanjaro whenever I think about shelling out more than $500 to do something more useful - traveling.

There are many places I want to go. I ooze jealousy when I think about how many folks my age have seen Europe or South America or Asia for god's sake. I wasn't born in this country, but I have also never managed to remember anything from where I was born. There were hills apparently. And mango trees. And lizards on the wall. Maybe a monkey or two.

I have never so strongly felt the desire to leave, while having it paired with this flow of dread concerning spending the money. I wish I could get over it. But I'm working on it. I'm working to go to a pretty place in the Tropics by this time next year, for example.

Anyways, here are a slew of videos that have made my eyes drool of happiness and excitement at what's beyond suburbia and crowded college towns.

That last one, about the Aokigahara Forest in Japan, is particularly interesting. This place is notorious for being a popular suicide site. It's eerie but incredibly fascinating. If you don't want to put up with the bright colours and lush images of the other videos, at least take a look at the dense green landscape and broken skeletons of the last one.

Night Drive

When you're sitting in a car and you're upset and tired and frustrated at yourself or at the person next to you (or even people in general), this is a good song to listen to. It simultaneously makes me feel better while letting me wallow in utterly pathetic misery.