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Eat of it. [Jul. 29th, 2007|10:28 pm]
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[Current Mood |pessimisticpessimistic]
[Current Music |Joanna Newsom - Monkey & Bear]

Upon my father's suggestion, I've decided to once again keep a regular journal.

I watched, quite possibly, the most horrible movie last night. 'Me and You and Everyone We Know' was a god-awful romp through the childish imagination of Miranda July and her bizarre attempt to impress us all with her wit and insight. I almost didn't make it through that movie. Unlikable characters, meandering and underdeveloped plot lines, with a smack of ridiculous "contemporary art" gets this movie five sad faces. I want my 92 minutes back, Miranda July.
(Note: Miranda adopted the last name July because it is the month that bolsters her creativity. Ugh.)

I was listening to spoken-word artist Joe Frank on my way home tonight. Usually, I avoid spoken word so as not to subject myself to more trite pseudo-art than is already forced upon me (don't ask), but I actually enjoyed Joe Frank. He did a piece about Adam and Eve. He was either addressing Adam, speaking as Adam, or alternating between the two. He was quite angrily addressing Adam's tendency to speak down to God after fraternizing with the serpent, and Eve's tendency to blame outwardly for all of her mistakes.
The story of Adam and Eve is something I think about a lot, in terms of knowledge. I came to the conclusion long ago that knowledge garners shame. This applies to all forms of knowledge; knowledge of the world, of language, of science, of sport, of death, of ourselves...our realizations bring us shame. I believe it to be part of the reason why so many great writers have been so tragically depressed. 
That being said, I don't think all writers have been depressed. I think that should be clear. It's what we do with our shame that makes us so different. For some it turns to sadness, for others, it turns to anger, hate, defensiveness, reclusion, or in some cases, acceptance. 
I wish I could be one of those who feels shame, and acknowledges it, but isn't hindered by it. I wish I could take the shame of failure, embarrassment, ingratitude, etc., and turn it into something productive, constructive, and redeeming. I wish it didn't affect me so negatively, but I'm not sure how to change how I feel about it.
Personally, I believe that my knowledge and my shame make me quite fallible. I am not a figure of strength and confidence in light of my chagrins. I am, instead, a completely destructible bit of animated clay; I am fragile and in danger of crumbling under a harsh hand.
Oh, how I want to fight back. I want to reinforce myself, give myself strength to withstand everything that will undoubtedly be thrown at me in my life. But I suppose it is an endurance, and must be built up.

I wonder how many people know this about me? I'm quite sure it's obvious, but that's relative, I suppose.

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