On Nostalgia

I feel like I can't stop bringing my mind to that saying how one will only perceive what is relevant to their life, to their experience. Nothing new of course, and listen to me justify my words, but true and unfortunate (in some regards) nonetheless.

I was listening to a few old songs I used to listen to tonight, songs that were intricately tied to a part of my life like a thread in a spider's web or a snowflake. I'm not really feeling the allegories tonight, too much Steinbeck. But he is so articulate. I've said it many times (justification), but it's not about the author's material but his ability to present. I'd rather read Steinbeck or Dostoevsky over Hegel any day.

Anyway, I was listening to some CDs and somehow I got to thinking how nobody really cares about anyone else's shit anyhow.

EDIT: One hour later. Nowww I remember what I was going to say. It was something like:

Having just filled out my Facebook profile for the umpteenth time, I can't help but get caught up on what I'm doing. What am I doing, anyhow? I know my tastes are interesting, and if I splay them out there blatantly enough I'll gain the admiration of some, the scorn of others, and no impact on others still. If I do not, and simply keep it neat and unassuming I eliminate the first two and go generally unnoticed by everyone who I do not seek out a relationship with. And, going farther that I'd like to for now, the only time information about me is useful is when I'm furthering a relationship with someone actively (not driven by idolization, if that's even possible), until we reach the plateau of finding out who we are and start making plans.

Ah, but look at the thought processes going on the first two groups. Scorn for what I represent inside themselves. Displaying an impulse, seeking acceptance through means they have been shamed - or created shame - for. Because, truly, what one takes from a story is only what pertains to their self. And from the idolizers, same thing; wonder, idolitry...etc.

And what is the ends towards being respected? Or towards being unnoticed? Two ends of the same dichotomy, of this I am almost sure. Is it more noble to behave in a way that helps people through virtues of one's own self, or more noble to build others up through the purposeful deficiencies of one's character and behavior? It seems to me that the second is more selfless but the first is more noble. Fuck nobility, I'd say. But that would be a rash thing to say, so I won't say it.

Yay for paradoxes. I feel like I always assume that people know what I'm talking about when I bring up refraining from displaying one's actions/actively pressing oneself onto the world[1], rather remaining passive, but if I can't even justify why I say that, I have become the nail hammered back down. And I suppose it is life's duty to rise up against all obstacles. But that's archetypal. I really don't want to be noticed, sometimes, I really don't want that cold responsibility of being a person in this world. It's all psychological, I know, but that's the construct of our philosophy and, in essence, our very world.

Hmm, a good illustration of that principle[1], I suppose. Even this itself is an exercise in futility. By justifying myself to ascertain my existence, I have already pidgeon-holed myself and my behaviors in the former, oppressive, active category. It is not possible to truly be here and to not will yourself to be here. Or rather, to be here without giving in to actually being here. See what I mean? No, I suppose you probably don't; and that's the way it is meant to be.