Though in Part I I covered the main underlying methods of dealing with rejection, I figured I’d write this entry as a sort of supplement, talking about all the other thought and things that happened after the event.
In Part 1 I mostly talked about what NOT to do. Most of that stuff, because I know it to be “bad basis”, didn’t even cross my mind. After I figured out she wasn’t interested, I went for a long walk, and thought about all kinds of things, which though related, were also of a much different nature.
At first, I considered the letter itself that I sent her, through email. I personally like to write things. I write better than I speak. Though I do both just fine, I tend to have a sort of “engineerish” exactitude, and wish to leave nothing out, and writing is more conducive to that. Anyways, I thought for a moment that I put too much detail into it that didn’t need to be there. I also considered that I put too much emotional “flare” into it, when I talked about things. It was all true though. I made a resolution to resolve such errors next time with the next girl, if there ever is one. Other than that, there hasn’t been any thought about it at all over the past few days. That’s kind of how regret goes for me. My philosphical views are very existential. I’m like Jean Paul Sartre. I believe I’m not who I am, but am what I am not. I’m a free-will force which makes decisions. My past is not who I am, so I do not keep it even in mind, unless it influences my present or future. My past actions are not even what I am anymore, even if I made a decision only minutes ago. I doubt I’ll ever reconsider the contents of that letter ever again, unless I try to psychoanalyze myself or something in the future, and find some hidden motive I’m not conscious of at the moment.
It seemed just moments after I had this short dive into re-examining the letter when I saw some children at a bus-stop as I was passing by on the sidewalk. As I walked by, my thought immediately was directed toward them, and to my memories of doing the same thing. In just a flash, I myself was 7 years old, out on that same bus-stop outside near the house, waiting for the bus. It then crossed my mind how long ago that was. 18 years. I almost gasped. How could it have been so long, already? 18 years? I then remembered being in Mrs. Simms 2nd grade class. She spoke of us one day graduating. I remember thinking, “That’s 10 years from now. That’s forever!” Well, I graduated, and that was eight years ago. My 2nd grade convictions certainly were not correct. It sure doesn’t feel like forever right now. I don’t even feel like there’s been much, if any time at all.
It seems to me like I could just turn my head, and I’d be out there on the bus stop. I then started thinking about some of the foolish aspects or romantic love.
Two vapors cling to themselves, and promise to be one another’s until death. When I see 18 years go by that quick, another 60~70 won’t be too long from now. Most couples find romance in, “Till death do us part.” Might as well set the stop-watch, it’s coming up right around the bend. Whatever suffering we live through, no matter how hard or difficult, is very short lived. Very short.
I think time goes by even faster now for me than it did back then. I’ve been reading Richard Feynman’s lectures on Physics here recently. I can read out of that set all day long, and lose complete track of time. Sometimes I’ll read all day long, only to look up and see that I’ve been reading 10 hours. Sometimes I do this for a week straight, reading some history book, or a set on economics, or something, and weeks just fly by. Combine this with business projects I have to work on and all my time is gone.
As I continued walking, passing the children, I came to an area where I used to play as a child, and saw it had been torn down, and low quality apartment buildings thrown up in its place. Then I considered that all things a man builds and stores up here on Earth, will not go with him wherever he may go at death. Life is so short, the last thing I want to spend my life doing is trying to “possess” objects, whatever “possession” may mean.
I can’t understand possession. The “owner” of these apartment buildings. What does that even mean? The owner is never there. Other people are always staying in the places themselves. Whoever spends time with something, and has access to use it, is who “owns” it. It doesn’t matter who has to government papers. That’s just a piece of paper which says the force of the military is there to back up and protect it. That’s really all there is to it.
I began to wonder what it means to “possess” a girl. Even if this girl would not have rejected me, would I ever really “have” her? I don’t really think so. Possession seems like an antiquated concept to me. Especially when applied to another person. I sometimes wonder what life is like in a woman’s body. I hear so much about their emotional cycles, which us men lack. Who knows what’s that’s like. I don’t know if I want to know.
I always wonder about the sceptics position – do we ever really know someone? What does it mean to know? I don’t know, what it even means to know. Even if I’m right next to this girl, does she see what I see? Is blue blue for her? Is green green? No way of knowing.
When two people eat the same food dish, one person loves it, another hates it. If both are experiencing the same flavor, then they would both like it. But obviously they are not experiencing the same thing, because one likes it, the other does not. So even sharing food dishes is impossible. Same applies to paintings, and various things we see. If we both don’t like it, we’re not seeing the same thing, or at least, not experiencing the same thing (if you want to be technical, and include the entire sensory and emotional experience combined).
One person likes this smell, another dislikes it. Same problem.
So who can say if we ever experience the same thing. Maybe when I eat fish, I’m actually tasking what chicken tastes like to her. Who knows. *shrugs*
So we can’t know if she feels the same way, can’t know if she sees the same thing, can’t know if we taste the same thing… She’s her own creature, and I’m me. No way around it. We’re stuck with our own bodies, living our own lives. Hard to say what “sharing life together” even means when you think about it.
Thinking on this topic brings up attraction, which is something I thought of while walking. People oftentimes advocate that we have free will. They say we can eat any food we want to. We can set the thermostat to whatever temperature we want. We can work whatever job we like. Uh huh, unfortunately, we can’t choose what foods we find tasty. We can’t choose which temperatures we find comfortable, and we can’t choose which jobs we find fulfilling. (well maybe – hard to say on that one). And since these things are what REALLY drive us to do what we do, then what are we to say about this evanescent free will they speak of?
Free will is complicated. I have a post on the site if you want to see my views on that. No use covering it again.
It’s easy to get upset and let down when a girl doesn’t like you the way you like her. As for myself, I find it irrational to get angry at her. Can she even choose who she likes and dislikes? Hard to even say. I’m not even sure if she’s much involved that decision. I think such decisions are very limited. Who we find physically attractive certainly isn’t much up for decision. Mental aspects seem more controllable, but it’s hard to disconnect the mind from our passions, because our mind seems to be more of a tool to lead us to happiness, but in itself, it is pure apathy. Some rational computer processer, needing input and some program to run, but in itself nothing if disconnected from its purpose.
I don’t know if men ever see truth as it is. We always tend to humanize it. Some things are interesting to us, and others are not. A lot of that has to do with the form we exist in currently. I doubt aliens (if they exist) think about things we think of. Religious concepts are always anthropomorphized. God is pictured as man (hard to believe that one), and all the things we fear magically find solutions. Hatred is resolved with universal “justice” upon death, and furthermore fully made manifest in hell’s flames. We have such love for each other. Of all the wishes we could have for one another upon death, we invent that one.
I think for love to make sense to the mind, it will have to be a very pure form of love, which would encompass timeless principles applicable to all generations. It wouldn’t die when any particular person dies. Truth never dies. If we want the truth as to what love is, I doubt it can be too tied up in humanity. Newton’s law of universal gravitation still mathematically patterns the planets today, and will continue to a looonggggg way into the future. It’s a near timeless principle. It’s certainly an imperfect approximation, but it’s close to patterning something which exists.
Pure love like that isn’t applicable to any one person. It would extend to everybody. As for romantic love, some sort of chemical cocktail swirling about the body.
Romantic love was difficult for Sartre to consider, and probably is for me too, because I’ve read Being and Nothingness. Learn so much, yet at the same time, it plagues you for life. Sometimes I wonder if I get so twisted up in things I miss out on some simple concept which makes all the technical garboil goop worthless. The thing is though, if you don’t try to figure it out, you never will. I’d still rather be confused, than be a mindless zombie. At least I’m trying.
Look at me, I can’t even think about love for 10 minutes. I’m talking about mindless zombies. This is how my walks go. I’m thinking about zombies, wondering how my body is made of billions of atoms swirling about, connected by strings and membranes, big bangs, wondering what it is that makes a decision happen, and why electro-magnetic waves carry the space-time continuum in the strangest fashion. *shrugs*