People

I love people!  Some people I don't 100% like, but I've realized that the longer I'm with someone the more I like them.  This isn't usually how it works for other people.  Even people I was neutral about at the beginning of the year I can't imagine how I would live without them.

Like Clay, for instance.  At the start I was like, oh yeah that's Clay, whatever.  But now I'm like "yay Clay!"  He brought me Oreos the other night after Cara tweeted about how I wanted some.  I'm going to miss the bajeezus out of him and I see him, what, like, twice a day tops?

I think maybe my excessive love of people has some biological basis to how easily I get addicted to things.  As Emily is very well aware, I am addicted to cracking my knuckles.  And my back.  And my elbows.  It's awful and rather disgusting.  Yet, I continue to do it.  Something in me cannot, simply cannot go on unless I do it.  I suppose it's better than doing opiates or something of that sort.

I'm also addicted to Ghirardelli 72% dark chocolate.  I like to eat it at least once a day.

I think I might seriously die if Karleigh left.  Or Cara.  Or Evan.  Or Gabby.  Or Andrew.  Or Emma.  Or Emily.  Or Leah.  Or really anybody on the floor.  Or my stand partner.  Or anyone in my lab group.  OH MY FREAKING GOD I LOVE EVERYONE!

What's this leading up to?  I don't know.  I didn't want to go to bed yet, and writing a blog seemed like a better use of my time than working on my romance novel (which totals probably 2 pages).

No one close to me has died.  I wrote about that in a French paper.  That might be why I have a fairly lax view of death in general.  I'm not afraid of death.  One thing I recently have gotten a little afraid of is things that happen to my body after death.

I've always wanted to donate my body to a body farm, where they use it to study environmental effects and stuff like that.  About a week ago I decided I definitely wanted to give my brain to research, but it worries me.  What if there's something in my brain that makes headlines and then my entire life is broadcast publicly to figure out how my brain turned out that way?

I stand confidently behind all of my past life decisions, just as I stand confidently behind every single thing I do in the present.  However, as Karleigh helped me realize last night when I had a mental breakdown, my confidence is what makes me do well.  Whether I'm doing something right or wrong, people will believe me and I become more confident.  If I put that confidence into everything I do (eg my flute lesson) I WILL succeed.  No question of it.

However, if I'm not around to be confident or explain, what will people dig up on me?  I've never done something inherently bad, but as we discussed in French class, you can take a secret to your grave but after you're dead it doesn't belong to you anymore.

I don't like that approach at all.

When Herve Guibert revealed that Michel Foucault died of AIDS and was gay, it changed that entire generation's perception of him.

When I'm not around anymore, what are people going to say about me?  Not people in my immediate life, but like in the future.  Oh my God, things I do now are going to be around forever!  People might know who I am in 1000000000 years!  This isn't okay!

I think I need to go talk to someone.  Aight.