Friday, January 20, 2006
I was thinking about Death today and how very inviting it is. Death is so... foreign and fascinating to me. Those who have encountered Death and left their legacy behind also fascinate me. I like Death. Call me strange and abnormal, but it's true. Ghosts enthrall me (but I don't talk about them. It invites a bad spirit). Ruins and artifacts do as well. So much so that they almost became a part of the rest of my life. If it had not have been for the boring lectures and ANTHR 210, I totally would be on my way to becoming the world's next greatest archaeologist. I'd go to Peru, and Mesa Verde, and Mexico, and Brazil- I'd go everywhere in the Americas. And possibly Europe. I like the castles, too. Asia also has a lot of potential for capturing my imagination. But not Africa. I find Egypt to be a bore.
I've come across my own share of Death, though, and I know how much it hurts to lose someone close to you. I also think that what you do in life will prepare you for what you will be required to do in Death. That's why I go on even when I don't want to.
I am the epitome of identity confusion. Who decides the individual we are, anyone? Is it one's self, or others telling one what one is to them? I'm still trying to muddle through that. Identity was a uch simpler thing when I was a child. And then I grew up some and it got all complicated.
Ever find yourself "dumbing down" your vocabulary so that others may understand you? I've noticed not my repetoire of words has dwindled since moving to Windsor Park. I think it's because I can't use "big words" around either of my roommates. Oksana knows enough English to express herself (but still messes up on occasion) and Nicole... well, I think she's just too ditzy. She gives me this confused look every time I utter a "big word." I have found it to be annoying. I miss my plethora of parols (or oral utternaces).
