2007, welcome

Though classes officially started today, I attended none. Mine was cancelled, so I finished my story instead. I feel like I've uttered those words--"I finished my story"--far too many times today, but such is the way of things. The way that silly projects and ideas dominate our lives. Maybe I shouldn't generalize. My life, I should say, is often dominated by little things--mostly thoughts, ideas, phrases. If only these things were always true things, rather than lies or unfounded assumptions.

During break, I'm afraid I made the mistake of believing too much of my own insecurities. The following syllogisms (am I understanding this term correctly?) were unfounded ones, for example, and I believed them each in some ways:

-if my ideas do not or cannot make sense to one person (or, if one person cannot make sense out of my ideas), then the ideas do not make sense to anyone;

-and if the only smart ideas are those which make sense to people, my ideas--which don't make sense--are not smart ideas;

-and because these (not-smart) ideas come from me, and what I produce is a reflection of who I am, as a person, I cannot be (considered) a smart person.

Hopefully you can see where these syllogisms are majorly flawed... But, it's often not so clear as this; nor is it often easy to just stop believing something when you're in the middle of it--or, say, when you're in the middle of a meal and you start crying for what feels like no reason (because you can't quite trace where your lie-believing/self-degradation started in the first place) and the crying seems to be making it worse for everyone. Anyway. So much analysis may not be productive; I'm not sure...

I'm back at my abandoned apartment now, and maybe I will re-learn the truth about who I am, about where and who I am meant to be, etc. Maybe I will grow this year.

As for the apartment, when I arrived back, the living room-kitchen area had nothing in it but a small table which my Grandpa made (excluding microwave, fridge, etc.). Now, I'm trying to redistribute my belongings about the place, so it looks less like an empty box and more like a home. What is a home, though? I know, I've written about the "home" or the idea of "home" so many times that it seems redundant to ask the question again... but, for some people, the answer may never be a fixed one. If mine needs to be fixed, it would likely be that Jesus is home, that Jesus and the Church together are home... but any other way, I couldn't give you the same answer more than a few times. I don't think it will ever be "this room" or "this bed" or "this country is home," even if I do start to forget where my real home is.

It's the New Year--so, welcome new year!