social conditioning

last night -
- went to design conference at the arts center in the city. it was a mini conference for year 12 students looking to do design, it was better then average teen watching - all the art/design fags were out and about. saw some great outfits.

- read 'TOYBOY.'
basically written by a 40 year old women trying to be a man and realising she's not a man. oh der. i hope when im 40 im not going around screwing toyboys in the hope they will love me. like fuck, arent grown ups meant to be in fucking control of themselves by then? this woman has had 40 fucking years to get her act together but no, shes going around letting guys whip her and tie her up. and waiting for them to email back. where are all the novels about 40 year old women being wise, sure of themselves, and actually doing something with their lives? this book made me so angry. that said, the BDSM sex scenes were pretty steamy. that cheered me up. then i got angry again. you know why?

its just another one of those 'society myths.'

a list of horrible society myths which fuck people up and are totally untrue.
1. all grown ups are happy and know exactly what theyre doing.
2. hard work can get you anywhere (not true. luck is a major factor. and intelligence. beauty helps too. and particularly people skills. that can get you places.)
3. you will find the right man, marry him, and be happy forever more.

however, some 'society myths' encourage peoples behaviour positively and can create a good environment for us to live in, such as 'do not steal.'

i have such trouble trying to seperate what i feel ive been brainwashed to believe and what i actually do believe/need. so that is when i convince myself of things contrary to my true desire (which i question is ACTUALLY my desire or not?)

im not sure if 'society myth' is the right word for it and i think i need to go do alot of reading on anthropology and social conditioning. ill get back to you on this.

the world around us

for the last half hour or so, have just been browsing through peoples blogs.
had an argument with someone the other day about the concept of art. i was saying that art is anything produced by a human. because anything produced by a human whether it is even just a singular sentence... is so unique in its creation... in its past... in its singularity... in its utterly permanent place in time and space... becomes art... in a way, its very own masterpiece.
and i realise that this theory of mine crops up in practically all facets of my life... the way i try to emphasize with everyone. the other day walking home from school, i walked with this girl who has mild cerebal palsy. but shes still a sweet girl. and this guy who has some form of learning disability. people ignore them. they think other people actually care whether they talk to them or not. we must have looked a strange trio. they are more honest, then most people. i'm not sure what i mean... maybe because they observe others often during social interactions, rather being in the midst of it.
anyway in a way, all the blogs that i've looked at. are art in their own way. even if theyre about something as mundane as something they did last night.
sometimes i just imagine all the people in this world like ants on this sphere just wandering around lost. what are we doing here?

the beginning.

things on mind.
.why are me and my sister so different? shes so 'responsible' and 'hardworking' im 'lazy' and 'rude.' shes 'smart' and 'uses her time well' and 'saves her money.' i have 'potential' but i squander it, i 'waste my time' i have 'bad friends' i spend all my money. we were raised in the same household by the same parents.

.sometimes i get so frustrated with the people i know. mostly because i feel they don't understand me.
it goes back to this mantra that i find underlies all human relationships and interactions
everyone wants everyone else to be like what they themselves are

my mind.
.i feel so distracted at the moment.
all that i am... all that i dream of and have been and will be and the things that hurt me and what i want to be and what i want you to be and what i want and what i dont want and why i want it and why i dont want it and why i cant do what i want and when i want how i want and wanting and dreaming and sleeping and seeing and crying and knowing and typing and hiding and insecurity and sex and sex and love and love and love and boredom and school and
school
i have homework i have not completed. consider that sentence a dark cloud that hangs above my head 24-7 before i get off my lazy ass and actually do it. it took me the entire day to do a quarter of my visual communication drawings, and i still have english and art work left.

people.
.are talking to me on msn, including the boy i supposedly have a crush on. but i hate him right now because i hate him right now because i hate him for being who he is and im sick of the whole thing.
.are being ignored because im typing this.
on the train you can watch these black lines criss cross and merge and dance in the sky. i did that and my friend giggled and prodded me 'hey youre such a stoner i swear, what are you looking at?'
'those things are moving' i say

does anyone else watch these lines, because i think theyre pretty

i repeat myself alot. i repeat myself alot. i think i have the same thought patterns and assocations in my head.
.