A Collection of Spectacles

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I’ve been trying to do this for hours. Four typed pages.

“1. Take out a blank sheet of paper or open up a word processor where you can type (I prefer the latter because it’s faster).

2. Write at the top, “What is my true purpose in life?

3. Write an answer (any answer) that pops into your head. It doesn’t have to be a complete sentence. A short phrase is fine.

4. Repeat step 3 until you write the answer that makes you cry. This is your purpose.”

The closest I came was

To live life spontaneously and without regret and to love someone with childlike sincerity.

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We’re  sitting in the car, driving around at night, the dark, all-encompassing, pitch-black sky surrounds us. 

She says, “So what about you, Allie Mason? What’s the purpose in life?” This takes the question I’ve just asked her and turns it around, making me contemplate it, which I don’t like doing. 

“Hmmm. What do I think is my purpose in life? Or the purpose in life in general?” 

She lets me answer both, making it a two part question. 

It’s a little sappy, but I’d like to help people. I really think that’s why I’m here. Not that I think I’m above anyone else in any respect and therefore more able to help, but I’d like to put whatever favorable qualities I do have to good use. 

As far as the purpose of life in general, I think it’s to experience everything on the vast spectrum of emotion. If you don’t know the depths of sorrow and loneliness, then it’s hard to recognize great joy, let alone appreciate it. Additionally, it’s important to meet as many people as possible, see as many places as you can. 

The point of life (from different points of view). Of course I’m shortening each person’s view quite a bit, which doesn’t really do it justice, but here we go anyway:

“To smoke weed and procreate.” Self explanatory? I think so.

“To love fully.”  That’s love in any sense. Love for an idea, an occupation, anything. 

“To leave your stain on the world.”  In essence, to do something that will be remembered. 

“To achieve one epiphany after another.”  To keep growing and changing as a person. Some people may never reach these heights of self awareness, while others may at a very young age. 

In other news: I’m seriously reconsidering whether I want to make Journalism my profession of choice, for multiple reasons. To me, writing is a release. It’s taking pent up feelings that I can’t express adequately otherwise, and making them open for consumption. It’s something that’s more for me than anyone else. I’d like to help others in a more direct way. Also, I’m beginning to get the feeling that if I try to make it a living, I’ll get so caught up in the hidden politics of it all (like changing my work to suit a publisher/editor) that I’ll end up hating the one thing I’m really passionate about.

Ideally, I’d like to become a psychotherapist. I’ve always found both abnormal psychology and examining people fascinating. It’s really geeky, but a few years back I compiled my own book together out of little clippings and things that I’d found on different mental illnesses. Actually, it’s a little creepy. Forget I mentioned it.

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In an effort to become an honest reporter, and in the spirit of full disclosure, my mom brought me to “talk” to someone last week. I can ramble on for a whole session, and she writes things down on a notepad, says, uh huh so they really don’t understand you. She asks if there’s any history of mental illness, and I say, probably on my dad’s side, but none of them have ever done anything about it.

I wonder, why their quirks are so apparent to me, why I even notice them. 

Something in me wants to know if everyone believes that life has a surreal quality sometimes.

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i’m sure that life will provide me with everything i want but will good things happen more often if i’m passive if i wait for everything to fall neatly perfectly in line?

or 

maybe it’s the active 

the social predators

those who seize all they can manage

who earn the greatest rewards.

am i going to be the catalyst in my environment

or will i become a product of everything that i allow to happen?

i doubt that there’s even a formula for such things.

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where’s my life headed now?

the options seem endless. i lack the foresight to know what will happen to me as soon as tomorrow and i can’t begin to think about what may happen to me next week over the next few months in two years. it’s all frightening but at the same time liberating. i’m trying to think more than twice about every situation before acting without overanalyzing to the point that life flies right by me. 

friday’s show was great. i realized how much i’ve missed them.

he’s now sympathetic towards almost everyone except for myself. currently we can barely be in the same room at the same time. i want to know what i’ve done that was so god awful that i don’t deserve fair treatment if not more. i’m trying to move forward without taking two steps back but things like this irk me.

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