Guns and Lilacs

I thought I would be crossing my fingers while typing my very first blog, in all honesty I haven't read a blog in months and at first I readily tried to recall a blogger's first post- or at the very least if there are any protocols, or customary 'rights' and 'wrongs' to starting off a blog.

Then naturally,my own personal philosophy chimed in;
Hell,if there is no right or wrong way to lead one's life ,then I shouldn't be sweating it over a blog,right?
That made me think ; a blog imitates life, and there goes the clich-ay saying art imitates life.

One's opinion,philosophy or one's blog in this case-is a mere device intended to 'sample' one's state of mind, which one could liken to a Breathalyzer Test. It's function is to sample one's alcohol levels and therefor,one's state of mind, internal functionings and judgment.

I do not have a clear and well-rounded mental picture of what I will write about but the general thesis of my blog may orbit around Pop Psychology and issues of deviance and other dimensions of non conformity (I hope so or else I would be doomed and forced to change my blog title . . .)
In all honesty I am cultured in the mediocre sense,as I am still a budding traveler,academic,adult and member of society,but at least I am not a hipster.
Whether they are complex or elementary I do not pretend to know issues, or plan on giving politically correct or fundamentally computed answers to certain issues.I just discuss snippets of topics,research, and theories are perceived by myself or effect my environment. Hence the term of the blog 'Pop Psych', I do not assume the identity of a schooled psychologist; as I am a passionate whole hearted student of psychology (along with 100,898,000 other girls my age across America) without a valid  PhD,Masters or Bachelors under my belt. As much as I feel I have a  certain poise for writing and studying the complex mechanics of the human psyche my liberal spirit overpowers my ability to shackle my mind,determination and motivations to my books and hence and I have been rejected from a university Psychology program twice. Grades too low,they say. Apply again next semester, they say. That won't keep me from writing,researching,bearing new concepts and thinking critically about topics in psychology,no academic institution can strip me of my constant hunger for the topic of the human psyche!

I would describe myself as driven by the constant and nagging need to seek novelty and new sensatio

ns,I am forever bored, forever seeking greener pastures and forever changing my goals,identity and ways to innovate my lifestyle. Whether a personality trait ,dysfunctional or low level case of ADD, I  would rather avoid the need to label myself, for labeling should be kept for useless items in storage only. Although my parents deem me 'ahem..special', my grandparents deem me 'uneducated and spoiled',my bosses deem me 'unemployable' and my exes deem me 'absolutely nuts',  I consider myself a dishihibited non -conforming flower child with wide eyes reflecting a colorful soul. I see the world as a living fantasy and achieve my dreams because I don't believe in dreams, I only believe in a limitless reality with no boundaries. I decided that since my philosophy dictates that I do not account to 'dreams and hopes' and I must not adhere to fussing for the future but live for today without concrete expectations. I am also met with the feeling that I must up and go - seize the moment! Clinicians call this impulsive living , if I am not mistaken .Or irresponsible living.

But to further illustrate my point with my self as the protagonist I will carry on. I was goggling pictures of the desert last July, 'how romantic is the desert' I thought, with its ruddy and rigid texture, its malevolent heat and glum cacti peppering its surfaces. I wished I was cavorting in cut off shorts among the snakes of the desert. That 's a dream,is it not? And a nagging little motor inside me was fussing, pushing me. What am I doing in this cold climate called home? Punching the clock in my stale and superficial work environment ,trapped in the prison of the four walls! I would qualify for living a meaningless existence if I dare to punch in one more day in this concrete consumerist nightmare, sitting here dreaming of the desert while I smile meekly at customers, meanwhile the digital clock laughs at me overhead . I was like a flower in a concrete prison cell, sitting on the widow ledge looking out at nature's beauty but too immobile and helplessly far to reach it. I detested the greedy and sneaky grin of my master -ie my boss-  as he watered me , only sparingly giving me a glimmer of hope and only enough to survive.
 I booked my ticket to Nevada for the following week, this was one of the beginning phases of my flight from 'prison' and into free thinking and the active personifications of my mental philosophies. Yes- I proved to myself,you can recreate your wildest dreams,philosophies and metal imagery in the boring dullness of the rational realm- otherwise known as reality.  I see myself as not only impulsive,but living spontaneously. I love that I am living closely to my animal whims and  instincts, that the conformist drones who are more 'successful' than I in society's terms are much poorer than I am because all the have are tokens that represent success to OTHERS and to society. The classic trap is money , a bit rougher in texture than Kleenex and a bit more pliable than cardboard but people will spend all their lives comparing themselves to other people's cardboard stashes and never realizing that the real world is ticking away. Imagine if all you had was hours punched into the system, a nice sports car to drive around the block, and a fancy watch that ticks away the real dreams that you never lived? Imagine being that poor?

My biggest wish is to find more free souls like myself ( I say 'free' for lack of better term) to interpersonally collaborate with, people who are so shameless and unembarrassed to be ourselves that we tend to embarrass others around us in the process. Once united I figured we can take over the world. The truth is I am not sure if I am 'hell bent' because I am an artist or if I am missing a few bolts, but people tend to either call me special , in the sense of one having a flare for uniqueness or abnormal in the sense that you better book an appointment with a psychiatrist. But I have noticed that the people most drawn to me are the ones who live in their shells,mediocre and average conforming souls,scared and anxious to be looked upon with disapproval  They see me as a flirty party bag of color and tinsel and they don't understand how I cannot possibly be plagued by the need to beat my drum to the tune of the others' ,and how I glimmer with adrenaline when given the opportunity to 'live on the edge', or forging that opportunity of course because such is not always given . I will stop self analyzing before sounding too self involved as this is an issue for me , but the problem with these types of people is that rather acting as a symbiotic agent of insurgency , they are acting as an audience or rather, admirers. I should have probably stopped typing after the warning that I was inclined to sound grandiose,but carrying on...

I do,once in a dozen blue moons find a soul that is akin to mine. Nothing makes me feel more proud to be myself like finding a fellow member of the Black Sheep club, a brother in soul anarchy, a baby misfit like me! I can smell the fragrance of his eccentricity like a hound sniffing out cocaine from the new Colombian arrivals lineup. We can spot each other across the room and the bond forged is the one that stems from those lovely, 'you had me at hello...' stories. It is more often than not romantic, but friendships born from this cohesion of personalities is something that I have also experienced and never forgotten. The problem with these types of relationships is that as much as I crave them,our labile and extremist natures bring about an intense and unhealthy clashing. The initial infatuation and 'hooneymoon' stage, also pegged as idealization by the psychological community is so magical and out of the ordinary, that the eventual transition into reality and realizations of natural disappointments sometimes severs the relationship. Sometimes the relationship's rollercoaster has too sharp turns,but none the less meeting a soul akin to mine is one that leaves an imprint-or scar and reminds us that as 'unique' as we think we are, we are never really alone.  But interpersonal relationships are a whole other topic and one that I have ruminated over for too long lately so I will put an end to it here.

In short,I managed to depict an otherwise sparkly and colorful image of 'me', through this micro-biography of myself, and I also managed to outline why my blog was titled 'Pop Psych and Baby Deviants', so hopefully I will also have some consistency in delivering other posts and outling other topics which are fermenting and seething in  the deep fibers of my brain . In fact, I quite enjoyed this process! How utterly therapeutic.
 My boss once said , "I will ask you to do something before the hour is up that might be impossible for you to do,"
To which I answered , "Impossible? What do you want me to do?"
" To actually finish a task that I gave you."

Fueled by spite, I proved her wrong that day, and hopefully will prove her wrong again by keeping this blog going and finishing this 'task' that I have given to myself.

Until next time!