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Seriekar
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Birthday: 3/5/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: Jesus, prancing around, running through the meadows like I'm a child again, doing a jumping jack, racing paper airplanes, acting like I'm crazy, ultimate frisbee
Expertise: Making beds, cleaning solutions, ceramics, stickers, metallurgy, procrastination, welding, soldering stuff, using lotsa sunblock
Occupation: Engineering
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/28/2003
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| War. It's been a constant part of history. But I struggle with the idea of war, of killing, of destroying life. I read about people who die martyrs, so passionate about something they believe that they are willing to die for it. I wonder if I would be able to do that. So what about war? Would you be willing to go and die for something you believe? What does it accomplish? And here's my biggest question: Would you be willing to kill others for something you believe? Is that what war is? Is there such a thing as a just war?
An intervention in a war where genocide is occurring: the answer is pretty obvious to me--in order to preserve life and the principles of life, something must be done.
But who decided that you'd win when you killed the other person? I guess they physically cease to exist...
I don't know.
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| I think I'm pretty cordial to people in general. But sometimes being cordial means more awkward circumstances.
I go to the university library a lot. I'll usually exchange hello's and good-bye's with the security guards on duty as I buzz in and out. Well, after one of them found out I wasn't actually a college student but already out of college, he followed me outside the other day and gave me his card so we could "stay in touch." There were people hanging out outside of the library within earshot of this conversation too. Awkward! I should have casually mentioned something like, "Oh, I'm moving to Seattle in May to be with my fiancee," during our various dialogues.
Another similar incidence happened once on the train/subway. This is why I don't talk to people on the train/subways any longer. This man commented on my various pieces of luggage. It's always weird to just completely ignore a person after you respond. So small talk happened. Then he rides the train to my stop and follows me out of the station to try to get my number. He said his name was Paul. Of course I said thanks and made up a name, Jessica, and a boyfriend.
It was St. Patrick's Day and I was waiting for drinks at the bar to take back to our table. A pretty intoxicated lady starts talking to me. I couldn't really ignore her because she was all up in my face. "You have such nice skin!!" Okay, what are you supposed to say to that? Thanks? She keeps talking about the skin and makeup and uses a lot of "whateva's" in her sentences. To be honest, I couldn't really understand what she was saying. Then she gives me her card saying she was a makeup artist, along with two kisses on the cheeks. Maybe she was European? She gives me a squeeze on the arm and says she wanted me to call her so I can show her what was fun in the city. Awkward!
Somehow, if you're nice and polite to someone, they think you are romantically interested. Whatever happened to etiquette where people are just friendly to others? Or maybe, I think they're romantically interested, but they actually just want to be friends...but I doubt this latter scenario.
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| I talk to myself a lot ... out loud. I'm so used to it that sometimes I'll say things that should be said to myself in my mind to someone or some people in my presence. And then, well, I realize that somehow I may have insulted the said present people. Thus, leading to my making awful attempts at adding flowers to what is already a pile of manure. I should just talk in my own head or something.
Examples:
"I just hate it when all these people spend a ton of money to get SLR's and they're not even good at taking photographs. The camera just makes everything look better and it requires no skill."
Some guy present had an SLR, not to mention the other 2 who secretly had them too.
"Oh, they're playing poker. I know how to play poker, but I hate it. It's consuming. I mean it's challenging to the brain sometimes, but how can someone spend their whole night playing poker?"
I found a "Mastering Poker" book at that guy's house later. He was actively reading it.
"I like historical books and nonfiction. But I don't like Mao ZeDong. He hurt millions of people's lives and brainwashed them also."
I found out later that that guy loved Mao and had an intense respect for him.
"Ugh, I can't believe that really old guy is with that girl. He could be her father. That's gross."
Then my friend told me she had dated a 45 year-old guy seriously before. She was 24 then.
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| I remember writing this quiz about myself back in undergrad as kind of a joke. But the last question was "Do I want to run away?" The possible answers ranged from "This is a stupid question" to "Yes" to "No." I forget what the correct answer was.
It feels like whenever I speak my mind about something or try to communicate my feelings, even in a loving way not out of anger, it comes back to bite me. And I can't shake off the feeling that expressing myself is just a bad idea, that it's useless, because I truly believe that communication is the key to peace. But there's not even peace in my microcosm when I'm trying to communicate. How can there ever be peace in this world?
I think running away is the easiest thing to do, but definitely not the correct one. But things like this just push me farther into myself. Why do I always let these types of things bother me so much? I don't feel like talking to anyone or doing anything. I just feel like running away to my own world where no one can hurt me...except
isolation.
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| I just finished reading The Septembers of Shiraz, an historical fiction novel about a well-to-do Jewish family in the years following the Iranian Revolution and the establishment of the Islamic Republic there, people being singled out and imprisoned because of their wealth (and other things). It was a really good book.
I was also listening to a Dust Poets song, the refrain being "Walk Away/Walk Away..." etc.
This, along with lines from the book: "Why is it, he wonders, that wealth must always be accompanied by guilt, if not shame? Had he not worked hard for it, and had it not, in the end, saved his life? ... Why the constant indignation at a man who dares to live well? Does living well imply selfishness? Was he--Isaac Amin--a selfish man?"
Plus: Every day when going to work, walking to and from points A and B, I get accosted by little boys, "Madame, Give me money." Or even sometimes, "Give me my money." I just walk away and barely acknowledge their presence. I've given food, but not money. My colleague tells them, "Go to school," since most of the time the only thing they know in English is that repetitive line I hear every day.
Sigh. I'm staying here in Malawi in a really nice home. They have their MTV Cribs on 24/7, broadband internet, hot water, electricity...I'm enjoying these things myself (minus the TV).
Binnu here is an advocate of socialism.
Where does equality cease to be applicable? How do we define what is rightfully due to each and every human being? I wouldn't say that I am high maintenance, but how do I justify the way I live and the things I buy?
I just walk away, walk away.
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