I can only reply to a few!

Your metaphor is inadequate here. Rather, a more enlightening scenario is to have never even looked under the hood of a car in your life, but all of a sudden, there is a noise. You have no idea how to fix this noise, but every day, it grows louder, in your commute, when you're with your friends, in your sleep, when you watch television, in your music, and when you're trying to think. There are constant reminders everywhere of how awful this noise in and how frequent it is in your vehicle. Finally, you get fed up and take it to the mechanic; you exclaim that something must be done, that the issue is not with you but it is the car that errs, that tortures you for no other reason than your use of it. You would rather abandon it, drop it off in a lake or in a compactor... Though, that seems a bit extreme, doesn't it? The mechanic looks at you blankly, asks you what kind of noise, tells you to describe the noise, where the noise comes from, what have you, but this only further agitates you. Instead, you decide to walk, but you can't walk everywhere in today's world. You develop blisters and callouses on your feet. You're too worn before work, and finally you're unfit for even your profession. Eventually you'll forget even how to drive before you consider going back to that wretched, over-complicated, wasteful, and absurd deathtrap. Then what? I don't know. Yea, they can be fun, they can be useful, they can bring in money, they can waste your money, they can solve your problems, and they can wreck your life.

To simplify, the car is emotions...

No benefit? How do you mean? Does your computer worry about you when you're gone? Does it panic about your records if the house is on fire? Does it care? I think not. You confuse me in this instance.

1. How can I truly know myself? It is even more difficult to understand myself than to understand others. On a societal level, I would think that the way people perceive me would, in a sense, be the most accurate representation of me. I was told by my therapist that it is literally impossible to survive without other people (I dissented, but I don't believe my opinion swayed him one way or another). Though I try to avoid specious logic as such, I would like to point out that it is "hard to see the forest when you're a tree."

2. How can I allow myself to feel as I feel? Considering my emotions are in constant flux, that would mean at times, I would be enticed to act on my feelings in ways that are not cleaving to the moral or legal boundaries of my clique and country. That is simply unacceptable. Sometimes, I find my anger aggrandized to the point that I want to destroy anything in my path. The only solace is that I recall that time will pass and my anger will subside, which would make any destruction, action or objection seem ridiculous in hindsight. Especially, I should not be generous! What fool gives away any resource without requite? Be it money, love, kindness, what have you... Be serious now. Then, I also refuse to allow myself to fall victim to the standards that force us to toe the line, so to speak..

I take your final statement as meaning that to receive we must reciprocate by giving... I agree! That is a major principle as to how I operate: to change the world, you must start with yourself. In other words, live your own creed.

ziggy1, I would agree with you that my past probably has something to do with my current state... Unfortunately, I would also say that I haven't even gotten out of my childhood yet! I am currently only the age of 17. To start a brief history... My father left before I was born. My mother was studying to be a nurse in my earliest years. My grandmother took care of me. From time to time, my mother would move out, only to fail financially and return home. During these stints, she would typically be dating someone; now, she admits that these men were mistakes. Finally, we returned home one last time. She began to go blind, and she now has an incredible history of various ailments that have only recently begun to afflict her. My grandmother died prior to this. It was crushing (esp. as I considered my grandmother more of my mother than my actual mother! My mother was and is a very mean woman who is manic depressive. Yes, angry and awkward. Demanding and illogical. oh well.), but I was beginning high school. Things always seem to happen like that.

Naturally, there are a million or so pages I could write about each individual event to describe my feelings, my epistemology, and its impact so far, but whatever.

Here I am now. Trying to go to college, is all.