this is an obligatory post intended to protect my site, which i've neglected for two years, from the username-hungry blog bulldozers.

The following doesn't mean anything. I've just gone too long without writing for the heck of writing.

//////////

Staring contest

 

I stare into your eyes. Like my own, they're alert, intent, focused on the goal. I return the intensity, eyelids locked into a stiff perch above the cornea, resolving not to blink. I've done this before. Maintain control, I tell myself, don't give into that involuntary reflex or I'm a goner. Your eyes stay open, too. Your dark eyebrows flicker. Your gaze chases light into my pupil, bounces some and dashes down the optic nerve, searching for meaning in my thoughts. No! I won't allow it. I will my half-shut eyelids upward, ignoring my irritatingly dry contacts. You snap forward an inch, startle me. I'm not falling for that. I giggle--half relief, half nervous anticipation. Darn, you can guess what I'm thinking. But I remain adamant. I will not slip into that human necessity that's as uncontrollable as falling in love. With enough willpower, I can overcome the temptation. Right? You blink. Yes! I win.

 

Except our staring contest is already long over, and I can't see your face anymore. I'm summoning it in memory. I let you chase the light into my mind, illuminating my thoughts, igniting feelings that have lain dormant and protected. And in this imagined staring contest, your eyes stay open, intent, entranced as our faces gravitate toward each other's. Then my eyes shut. They stay shut. Have you blinked? It doesn't matter, because despite my victory in the staring contest weeks ago, you've disarmed me in another, larger battle of wills. I can't force my eyes open anymore. I surrender.

//////////

New Year's post upcoming, maybe. Here's hoping 2006 ends on a great note for everyone.

I believe in a happiness quota

Earlier tonight I felt a craving for food. It wasn't to last me through a night of work or to stave off hunger--no, I sought in those pita chips some sensory semblance of comfort that had eluded me tonight. My mom chided me for my lack of willpower, claiming that late-night snacks had given me the freshman ten. I kept on munching. I didn't care. Last time I checked, I had lost five of those ten pounds, and I still needed the comfort food for some problem I still couldn't identify.

I might have believed, months ago, that I had some supernatural ability to read my own thoughts with clarity and certainty. If any existed, I've lost it. I shunned self-reflection for the past few months, being too busy with the frenetic rhythm of college life: go to classes, go to hour-long meals, make it to extracurriculars, make time for anyone who drops by, do psets, do anything non-work-related on weekend nights, catch up with some friends, catch some sleep, and basically milk excitement out of every waking minute. I reserve no time to myself, to think, to admit my emotions to myself, to write angsty confessions. Introspection has given up on me.

So tonight, transplanted out of that hectic setting, I sat in front of my computer alone, expectant, waiting. Parents shuffled in and out of the room. No knocking on the door to which I could yell "Come in!" No phone calls asking about a math problem or my plans to go out that night. Instead, every time I've phoned a friend back home, I've had to initiate the call. Probably the only feeling I shared with my college self was a reluctance to work, and I again found myself on Facebook, skimming my newsfeed, checking for new wall posts. Traffic online must be awfully slow tonight.

And in this moment of solitude, I hit my happiness quota. (My quota works like this: When I reach some stage of bliss or uninterrupted happiness, the forces that preserve world order get angry and kick me back to a more proper, gloomier place.) The old insecurities washed over me--I'm losing touch with those whom I considered close, and I have no reason to think I matter much to anyone, really. Another insecurity, brought on by something new--I'm investing too much effort and it will destroy whatever is already there. Irrational fears, they were, but they overpowered me in my moment of vulnerable self-reflection. Despite living a spectacular life for the past month, I felt as shitty as ever.

I'm not sure how long I lasted in that state. Probably an hour or less. Two people unknowingly ended it when they suddenly offered to tell me about their problems. All three of us, having just returned from college, found ourselves alone, relaxed and thinking, a perfect opportunity for the long-neglected act of depressing self-reflection. I found it strange that the urge hit us simultaneously, but I'm also glad because my friends' confiding in me distracted me from my own worries. I won't drop any names, but thanks to both of you.

Now they've both gone to bed (hopefully) and I'm half-wondering what general feeling, if any, had knocked me against my happiness quota in the first place. Probably there was none, and little, irrational fears had just built up. But I'd still like to identify a broader problem, as if that will convince me I can still read my thoughts, yes, I'm still in control and know what feelings course through me, however depressing they may be. How cynical of me: I value the introspection too much to let it go.