Mart-deBlog

"Commitment issues", isn't that a stupid phrase? Someone supposedly has them or not. But I think more can be said about it. What kind of people are afraid of committing? Maybe, what is called a fear of committing is simply the result of lacking a romantic ideal to strive for, I mean, those who do not believe in the 'One Ideal Partner' cannot say that the partner is simply not the right persona and thus they have commitment issues instead. In such cases, commitment issues are the same as being critical and dismissing people as being faulty, the sense of having a relationship freaks out because deep-down the idea of spending an eternity with the partner is simply horrible. In the end, one might say that only the two factors "life" and "death" are capable of evoking the freak out. Spending an eternity with some people can feel like being DEATH, and the thoughts subconsciously resembles dying. This is when the other person (however interesting they may be) suck the life out of you for just a short moment. And, what you see so often, that if people have been lifeless for too long (i.e. in a mismatched relation), you don't even care anymore for being a zombie and they turn around their anxiety until leaving becomes the new death, they are like zombies who are afraid of being reborn. These do not dare to split up or divorce. But hopefully, we search for LIFE, for being with someone who vitalizes, activates and inspires. And who would call that an "issue?" Maybe that is why humor is so important in relationships, it is a sign of life. And as such committing to life doesn't even exist, you cannot commit to life, it is impossible to commit to something that moves and changes, since it is not a commitment. And that is why I think "committment issue" is essentially a stupid phrase, a right or wrong relationship is the only issue.

But there is more. There is something tragic about commitment. In a way, you could divide the character of people (simplistically) in two: the taker-side that needs an other, and giver-side that needs to be needed by an other. At face value, these naturally seem to fit together. However, it is this natural fit that causes problems. Especially, it destroys freedom: out of being needed one signs a contract with the needy, and this contract implies obligations. And thus it implies that one part of every person is repressed. Every time one has a need, let's say for comfort, then the other is obliged to provide for the need, and give comfort. It seems that it is in the nature of relationships that people give up the freedom of giving and taking and either the contract says you take or it states that you give, there is often no room to be both after the initial contract is signed. Of course, both partners fight it, the taker tries to give, and vice versa. But it is often useless, they are chained to their role. And then it leads to freaking out, to commitment issues of the giver that is sucked empty and the taker who loses itself in the other. But if there would not be any obligations, what would that mean? Are there intense feelings that go beyond needs, do they exist? I think (but many tell me I am wrong), that the taker-side and giver-side of one person should only go into a relationship amongst themselves, your giver-side providing for your own taker-side. I am completely narcissistic. But in this case you need things only of yourself and only you yourself provides for them; then maybe you can deal with a relationship that is not based on needs. And, from experience, one will happily continue freaking out when a relationship starts to revolve around unchanging needs and pushes you into a one-sided role. But I wonder, without needs, can there be intense feelings for each other or does the needless relationship mean simply indifference? I do not know. I just keep on freaking out...

I was putting my past papers, research and writing portfolio on the internet for back-up (on Google Docs, superhandy). Then I found this publish button, so I made
a couple of things available below, for the interested (and for myself if I want to acces it). If it looks exhibitionistic or arrogant (cause who gives a fuck about my papers), then... well, whatever.

Research Paper:
"Concepts: Genus and Differentia"

Short Story for Creative Writing:
"The Mortifier"

Philosophy Papers:
"The Axiom of Meaning"
"How Philosophizing" about Causality is Mistaken
"Anti-Psychiatry"

Cheers.

1300 this afternoon I gave the final speech of a biotechnology debate, and then I was finished. Finished with my bachelors. Finished with my science education. Finished with Holland. But I try to repeat over and over "finished", "finished." But it just doesn't really get through, I just don't realize it that I finished. I don't even realize with what exactly, I finished. I sort of half remember how I finished it. Last week was a tour de force of masochistic labor. I love it though. To work like a machine, kick people out of room, and continue until the sun starts shining. To work in my tiny messy room, in the darkness, on Aquinas, who worked like a machine hundreds of years ago in his dark monastery. But all that was when I still wasn't finished. That I realize. Being finished I don't. I know that I start realizing the moment I get nostalgic, emotional and introvert. Normally that always happens somewhere on the last night. Right now, I am not feeling anything really. It is 22.40 now, I am a little tipsy, but I know things will get worst. It is the end of the semester party. When everything is supposed to get crazy.

Although... I can already hear some whispers. "that was how fast childhood went by." "from now on life is serious." "you didn't enjoy it enough."

But these voices are simply too soft for the drone of sleep and bewilderment. Thus, probably this post will be a trilogy. When the end sinks in, I write the sequel.

Everytime it happens, a panick attack hits me because of all the work that accumulates in the last two weeks. Last year was a bad one, I did a 300 level math course that I'll never forget. This time I like all my subjects and the stress is different. Still, it remains stress and as such I will commit the sin of sharing the deep pit I am staring in, due friday next week:
1. 4000 word essay psychology
2. 2000 words business plan
3. 4000 word take home exam philosophy
4. speech for opening a biotechnology debate
5. prepared fact sheet for debate
6. Portfolio of creative writing pieces
7. Writers journal I should have written over the semester
8. 2000 Short story about a suicide
9. final exam psychology
10. last but not least, final and bound-in version of my research
If you then make the calculation that I can write max. of 2000 words a day when doped up high on coffees and need for example read 300 pages for the psyc exam or read at least 10 biotech researches and one gets the final result: "IMPOSSIBLE." It is this concept, that occasionally takes over my mind and echoes along, and that is exactly what it means to have a panick attack, a realization of my lack of superpowers. But I know I'll survive, everyone always does. See you all next week!