Shall I Try Again?

Facebook, though certainly a curious and ingenious apparatus, does not provide the correct medium nor environment for me to discuss the things I am interested in. No one really wants to hear about philosophy or linguistics or whatever on such a youthful, social device. Even I have to admit that I dislike it whenever anyone posts those chain statuses that promote awareness for an issue (though part of that negative reaction may be in part caused by their accusatory nature - "if you don't post this, then you're cowardly/mean/apathetic"). Besides, I can hardly hold a proper discourse on such things in a small space. We're a sound byte culture, after all. And the status boxes have a character limit, it turns out.
So, here's the new layout. The picture in the background is Storm, by Edvard Munch, a Norwegian Expressionist whom I mistook for an Impressionist in last year's French class. I changed the name, as well, and the layout. Clearly I'm distancing myself from my ninth and tenth grade self, without going through the hassle of developing a whole new blog. Being terribly introspective and self-analytical, I can't stand my past self. Even if she did get me to where I am today.

So. The real reason I finally got around to dusting off the old blog and giving it a shiny new coat of paint was because of the topic currently on my mind. It's a short thing, because I just realized it's actually late, and I have to get up tomorrow. Alas. But, in brief, here's some of the things I couldn't say on Facebook recently:

I used to understand what the question of the meaning of life meant - or, I thought I did, because it was not something I closely examined. The more I think about it, the more unclear the phrasing seems. Is it asking, "Why are we here, what is the grand purpose of the universe, what divine scheme is there that we fit into?" Or is it asking, "What should we do while we're here?"  I feel like most people think it's the former, which is a shame because the answer is easy. (It's no, in case you were wondering. There is no plan.) It's the second question which actually raises some legitimate questions and answers and controversies.

I need to stop reading the news. Somewhere since I started to try to become less desensitized to horrors and suffering, I became a gigantic pansy who despairs every evening as I read about how horrible, ignorant, and resistant to understanding and goodness some people are. I don't understand how people live with themselves.

I need to go to sleep now, so I can get up in the morning, be miserable for a few hours, and then work on homework incessantly. Lovely, I'm so excited.