#again obviously it’s valuable to read and process whole complete texts not dismissing that but like

[communistkenobi]

I don’t like when people ask how many books you plan to read/have read this year one because I think that’s a weird relationship to have to books and two because I think even reading a chapter or a portion of something is valuable. this is especially true with non-fiction but even with fiction I think any amount you read, even if you don’t read the entire thing, is not a failure or ‘incomplete’

#I read basically exclusively non fiction and every page I read is beneficial like I’m always learning something #like my relationship to reading is often extractive and utilitarian because of school and research #but that extractive process doesn’t require reading the whole text like 99.9% of the time #I’ve only read a third of Orientalism for example but like I have a good grasp of Said’s core arguments and concepts #and like part of how I finished authoritarian personality (a 1000 page book) was by skipping & skimming sections #like the whole is not always more valuable than its components #and also like ‘I read this book to complete it’ is not an insincere way to engage with a text but I feel like it’s limiting #if that’s your primary approach to reading. Like you read a book just to say you read it #& also more petty but I think that if your argument or thesis only works if people read 100% of your book then you’re doing a poor job #of getting your point across #again obviously it’s valuable to read and process whole complete texts not dismissing that but like #I don’t find a lot of inherent value in reading a book just to complete it u know

[victoriousvictoriajackson-blog]

I’m writing this blog so that, when I die (years from now), everything is out there. April 6, 2018.

For some reason, the bad details are too much for me.

I don’t have the courage to tell anyone about myself. Nowadays, I find it really hard to want to get close to anyone. I’ve only wanted to get close to one person at a time. You’re already misunderstanding exactly what I am telling you, and I’ll try to explain what I mean. 

I learned recently I am an INFP according to Myers Briggs. Almost all of it makes sense for describing me. Unique to me, but not a good thing, I learned that I find socializing exhausting because I notice every single negative detail in an individual (and simultaneously every positive one, and I’ve learned that every person truly does have a good and bad side). For some reason, the bad details are too much for me. They cause me to want to leave the art room even though we were just having fun dancing together and laughing together as friends a few moments ago. But there, I saw it again, after I asked her “dang, you’re still working on that thing?” intending for her to read that statement as “wow, that project really must be tiring for you, I’m sorry it is taking so long.” She gives me a dirty look all over her face, clearly misunderstanding the message. I text my mom “can you please come and get me?” 

The first thing you might think: you are just too sensitive. You, the reader, are right. But sensitive just doesn’t quite describe me as a whole, nor can any adjective for any individual be completely right. I am more so low-tolerance for any kind of emotional stress or burden. I am more so in the involuntary process of desensitizing myself from judgement, misunderstanding, jealousy and anything that isn’t synonymous with “hope”, “affection” or “sympathy”, by removing myself completely from other’s lives as it is the fastest way and most assuring way that I won’t ever feel that way again.

I know what you might be thinking by now: how can you live your life expecting people to react in certain ways? or: you yourself are not perfect, how can you expect others to be? or: disappointment comes from having such high expectations of people. 

I can’t explain it. I am aware of it and therefore could change it. But the greatest repercussion I have suffered is loneliness. I haven’t suffered from detachment issues in a long, long, long time. Just loneliness.

And I don’t want to be lonely anymore. Not at all. I am not as sensitive as I have just made myself out to be. I like sarcasm usually, and dark humor, and I can take teasing very easily (even bullying). It’s like I see this fundamental common ground that everybody is standing on when they respond dismissively or reject something I have said entirely that causes me to shut down. I get angry, because I think that everybody’s ideas are equally valuable and I myself listen to others lengthily, holding everything I want to say back out of fear they might misunderstand me and the future is changed forever. I obviously place way too much weight on timing. 

But I’ve learned that timing is half the battle. Unfortunately, no one can predict perfect timing, but still we try everyday.