Identity as a Constant
Blah--going through my past and watching layers of who I WAS unfold into who I AM.

Spoke with hanah today for the first time in a LONG time...too long. Going to vegas over the weekend to see her. I'm quite excited.

Then, while I was at it, I decided to read over my old writings....Found this one:



Confusion seems to be my closest companion right now. And while I have always agreed with Emerson in that “there is no companion so companionable as Solitude,” it is that solitude which has brought me so close to the brink of insanity. I can’t stand it anymore. I am forced to live within myself, and every escape only brings me right back to where I started. Wishing is never futile. Only hoping. Many times the very act of wishing something has caused my wish to come true. Wishing forces me to accept what I want and after that penny sinks to the bottom, after the star falls from the sky, after the minute of wishing is over, there’s no going back. The propelling action of a wish is the only thing we have to wish for. Hoping, on the other hand, is dangerous. To hope is to leave everything to the forces of fate. To hope is become vulnerable. To hope is to risk, and I have learned that risking is too dangerous. . . or perhaps, not dangerous enough. I have hoped before, and I have failed. I shall only host hope in my heart so long as it earns its stay. The moment it proves false I shall leave it subject to the virulent winds of the harsh reality which forced it out. Never Forever, still echoing. . .still chasing itself, each other, myself, throughout the endlessly perpetuated tunnels of hope. . .False Hope. . .

Do people ever change? Can they change? I thought I'd answered this question before. I don't even know if I still feel the same way I did when I wrote this. I sympathize with it....and perhaps I still feel and think this way, too....So much of ME has changed....I change constatly, and I look for ways to change--evolve--anything, so long as I don't remain stagnant.
Yet there's still this...CORE....that stays the same. I'm not saying it's a bad thing...I gues that's what personality it.
But the voice in the fourteen-year-old passage above still rings with some of the same intervals and nuances that I carry with me today....I realize that there are pieces of me that HAVEN'T changed....And that that's ok....that no matter what happens, my identity is the constant.

Like a constant in a mathematical equation--it does not guaruntee the right answer (you have to do the rest of the work right), but without it, the right answer is impossible...