Invisible Monsters

It's the title of a book by Chuck Palahniuk. I read it this summer, and all I have to say is that the human mind is pretty sick and twisted-- mine, yours, and Chuck Palahniuk's, no less.

I've been thinking a lot about brains recently. (Feel free to giggle with me at the blatant pun-ish type device I have deliberately inserted into the previous sentence.) AP Psychology, while lighting a fire to my bottom and propelling me with full-force towards my goal of becoming a doctor, has made me realize how much more screwed up I am than I previously believed. It's true. Not only that, it's fueled my wonder and fascination with people who are also screwed up: my brethren. I'm constantly trying to analyze small modulations in behavior, facial expression, voice; it's getting to be utterly creepy. Not everyone likes it when you stare at them with squinty eyes trying to diagnose potential stimulation of amygdalas and release of the neurotransmitter GABA and such, I've realized. Presently, I've decided I've developed a crazy person fetish. An unhealthy need to be around, talk about, read about, and analyze mentally disturbed people. Myself included. Go figure.

Perhaps now would be a good time to bring up a somewhat sequitur thought. I've realized that what gets me through my screwed up, over-analyzed life are productiveness and friends. These two parts of my life keep my brain from spontaneously combusting and blowing up. (That was an intended redundancy, by the way.) They help me retain my sanity; without an exact balance of working hard and my dear friends, I'm a mental mess. It's funny, because my life does basically consist of these two things--yet, they are my source of solace. A paradox. One of many to come, in fact. Lots of things in my life are circular contradictions. Snaps, please.

Anyhoo, I like the feeling of being productive. For all the, ahem, "haterz" who chide me for writing a 500 word blog while making the pompous assertion that I like to be productive: you're completely right. I like it, yet I'm not doing it. Paradox snaps again, please. As for the friends...okay, well yesterday, I experienced the all too familiar feeling of missing someone. I told myself I didn't know who I was missing, but I really did. I missed someone that I physically see and talk to every day of the school week, yet never at all. (Ahem snaps *cough cough*). I went insane for a couple hours that day, yet I'm going to listen to his stupid-but-reluctantly-accepted-as-cute jokes but 12 hours from now. And THAT is what happens when my two sources of solace are thrown out of balance--I go mental again. Just like I am now, ranting and raving about every arbitrary thought that comes to my mind, writing a blog post that no one but me could understand. The mark of a true crackpot, my friends.

Which is why I have decided, out of the pure goodness of my heart, to spare the world from my nonsensical ramblings and get back to that whole balance of sanity thingy. You know, productiveness and such. :)

Bad Timing

It's the one time in 123439824 billion weeks that I have absolutely nothing to do, and I don't seem to have any deep, profound, or eloquent thoughts to express. Maybe I'm only eloquent when I'm highly stressed or angry. :) I guess I'll be back when I have my next tantrum?