Sunny, Sunny, Sunny Day (standard:Inspirational stories, 971 words)
Author: MandyPants	Added: Nov 27 2004	Views/Reads: 3612/3	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This entry is a little blurb about our human civilization and of my continuing growth.

So I spent last night at home alone, for the first time in a long time.
I bought a bottle of wine and I read through my old journal. It is 
pleasing to see how much I have grown since those days. Most of the 
entries were from about five years ago, leading up to when I met 
Adrian. My last passage is entered when Adrian and I had been together 
for eight months. My entries take a turn for the better at that time 
and I am shown to be beginning the journey that has brought me to where 
I am now. I am closer to myself as time goes on and I am confident that 
I like my person. What a wonderful way to feel. 

In terms of my career or constant lack thereof, I remain confused and
bored. My job at the furniture store is not challenging to me in any 
way. At first it was exactly what I had wanted. Having been a waitress 
for so long I had lost a part of my individualism and had developed a 
knack for the art of bullshit. This will and has proved a handy thing 
to be at times in life, but nonetheless, a trifle existence on it's 
own. I am now able to form opinions derived from my judgement and whats 
more, is that I can now act accordingly. 

Slowly my need to "educate" people into possible other points of view,
is dissipating. I find what is left to be quite gratifying in itself, a 
state of mind that is based on my not giving a shit about other peoples 
lives. It is not that I don't care about other people but rather that I 
am sure that they have it under control themselves and do not need my 
imput. This is great progress for me, for I was constantly overwhelmed 
with the urge to help people to minimise their grief, that I never 
realised that people actually choose to be upset about certain things 
because it makes them feel better about them. This is foreign to me for 
the most part, but that is a whole other thing. 

I am so set on being happy that it would take something very major to
pull me from my unending desire to have everything dealt with as it 
comes. I won't have a bad day, ever. I may have a part of a day that 
was bad and spiraled into other things but I am not able to maintain a 
state of upset for long. Somehow I have ingrained within myself a gift 
for minimization. It wasn't always this way, I used to wallow with the 
best of them but I just can't seem to anymore. Everything is just what 
it is and it doesn't effect anything else with me. Small things are 
small to me and I can't make them larger, even if I try. I always end 
up laughing at my stupidity and moving on to things that actually 
matter, like having fun. 

It all sounds to good to be true and furthermore, as though as a result
of this mindset I must be tucking these minor things somewhere within 
myself to build from their repression. Guess what I'm not. These things 
are exactly that to me, minor, and that means there is nothing of them 
to put away. When I look around me I see people everywhere that dwell 
on trivial things. Or people that make the larger things even bigger by 
allowing them to change themselves. This need not be the case ever, 
unless you are dealing with a death of any sort, or of a drastic 
change, for these things will change part of who you are, but this need 
not be a bad thing. 

Sometimes when I am with other people I want to say, "Get over it,
baby!" or "Yeah, so?". I can't help but find it difficult sometimes to 
be understanding, when it seems to be a situation that they have made 
bad themselves, not one that really is. Yet, I see it all of the time 
and I don't understand exactly why people do this. Why wouldn't they 
choose to have their drama evolve from happy things? I know as human 
beings we generally just like to complain, but why do we? It's annoying 
and selfish in my opinion and I find it hard to sympathise. It seems to 
me that whats they want, sympathy. 

Honesty is hard to come by in general these days. Whether they are aware
or of it or not, I find that most people try to make up truths in order 
to avoid facing the real ones. I think it is strange that we do this. 
Why can't we accept things as they are? Do people think that they are 
perfect and thus should do only perfect things? Why does it make so 
many people feel good to think poorly of others? I know we all feel 
judged in life, because by many we are. It's sad that we will do it to 
others the same way, even though we know we are wrong to do so. 

Why does the majority of our population lack almost all self confidence?
I didn't have a great upbringing but I found things about it that I 
liked and it enabled me to deal with the rest. I spent a few lost years 
but I forced my self to grow and change. I have been happy ever since. 
My advice, tell yourself to shut up on a daily basis, I do and it 
works. 

Thank you. This is one of my journal entries and I wanted to share it.
Please comment any insight you may have. If I seem pompus in my story, 
I assure you I am not.


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