Oh my god, could it be, anything but that, no, not...
(Dun dun dun)
(Dramatic reverb + token crushing of native and gratuitous display of flesh)
I have double tea.
Two tea bags, twice as much milk, and twice as much sugar as normal people.
Because water is the boring part of tea.
As anyone pondering upon this will no doubt have surmised, I am procrastinating.
Also ToK essay.
What I have so far for my psych. one:
"Constructive memory" - rather than reconstructing & telling what happened, parts of or whole memories are constructed. This may be due to what we "know" should have happened (social sensibilities), suggestions (often unintentional) about details, or post-event acquisition of knowledge ("That guy was a serial killer" = "Yes, I definitely remember him carrying a gun")
- Only recall bits and pieces => invent links that make sense
- *retrieval cues* too broad => memories mix (three different visits to the park become one, for example, or a dream about a park and a general concept of what should happen at parks are mixed in)
- suggestion => "When the man and woman *crashed* into each other, how fast were they going? "Crash" makes people imagine that they must have been going quickly to 'crash' when in reality they may just have bumped while moving slowly. This is why 'leading questions' are not allowed from lawyers to witnesses in court trials.
Is okay so far? Considering that's just notes and vague outlines, yes?
I'm also checking out (vaguely) the general state of society in 1933 New York.
No reason :)
Apart from it being kind of useful in our English oral =P
We're discussing King Kong being a classic of the speculative fiction genre, and we need context. So context is my researching job tonight.
What we learned from watching the 2005 King Kong was that Jack Black cannot act.
Also his character is a nasty, nasty man.
He caused the extinction of the dinosaurs and the death of the only Sensitive New Aged Gorilla to ever exist - King Kong.
It was very heart-rending.
Especially how Sexy Beast Kong's death was so drawn out :(
I drew a picture.
It's slightly confusing.
And on the side I wrote:
Thoughts are not an effective hiding place.
Big words don't protect you.
You can't chase people away forever.
Sooner or later,
you're going to have to
let someone in.
I'm not even sure who I was thinking of. Possibly me. I tend to argue using unnecessarily long and complex words. I figure, if they don't understand me, their dislike can be brushed off as ignorance. I can always claim, if backed into a corner, that there was a linguistic misunderstanding, and somehow I am still right.
I have a problem with hiding in amongst my thoughts. I feel like a goldfish trying to hide in a tacky plastic seaweed.
I can claim to be thinking and being philosophical, when in reality my thoughts are flimsy and shallow. Caitlin = goldfish, thoughts = plastic seaweed.
I tend to argue with people as my first mode of defence. If I'm worried someone won't like me, I'll be rude to them.
The only way for me to feel confident is to push the needs and feelings of others out of my head until after I've got through a situation.
And then I feel horrible, and nobody has really interacted with me at all, making the whole bullshit process redundant.
I've been feeling odd over the past week or two.
I realised I haven't been writing in my diary. Or on here. Instead I've been spilling to Stuart. I'm sure he's tiring of it. Perhaps writing here or trying to keep up the diarying will direct some of my whining away from him. He's a beautifully patient and tolerant person, but I'm terrified I'll push him to the point where he can't take any more of me.
He was upset about something today, and wouldn't tell me what it was. He wouldn't talk about it, and somehow that made me sad. Most of it was, "There's something so wrong he won't talk about it?" kind of worrying. But part of it was, "I tell you everything, I try to explain my actions and feelings to show you it's not you that makes me get upset like I do, and you can't trust me in return to tell me what's upsetting you"... in not telling me what the matter was, I guess he wasn't showing me that it wasn't my fault, which is all I would have needed short term. Very short term. Five minutes after that reassurance I would be worrying away again. I'm worrying terribly now...
I worry very much about my friends and the people I love.
I want to have them all in sight so that I can stop any harm coming to them.
Me and Maddie and Skye were talking last night, about how, if Skye and Luke were in an open relationship, and Luke went off and tried new things and then came back to Skye, she would know that they had something more than anything else they could find.
I sort of realised, that I can't let anyone go, not even for a moment, for fear that they won't come back. I need an emotional stranglehold on everyone around me, like a leash, I can't bear to see people leaving, even if it's only briefly.
So sometimes I get controlling. Stuart darling, if you wind up reading this, I'm sorry for clinging so much and not wanting to let you go ever, maybe this pondering is making some sense out of it.
I sometimes feel like I'm unintentionally being manipulative. Or that it might seem that way. And those times are the times where I insist that I am fine, or that I am too dignified/proud to cry in public, and ignore things that normally make me break down.
I wonder what other people wonder. I wonder how I might describe myself. I seem very contradictory.
Manipulative and sometimes naïve; childish and cynical; slightly tired of everything but curious about most other stuff. Often withdrawn but hyperactive. Stupid and nerdy. I don't really make a whole lot of sense.
I'm out of credit (I'm out of money)
I hate not being able to call people. But several times during the last few days, not having any credit has probably been a good thing.
That is, it's stopped me, say, ringing Stuart in the middle of the night. Which I am currently really wanting to do. But I'd wake the siblings.
If I still really need to talk to him when I go to bed (and it's not like, 4am), I'll call him.
Eh, fuck it, I am going to bed.