When reviewing the past with my mother today I had to ask myself: have I always been unlucky when picking friends, are people simply not thoughtful anymore, or am I really just exceedingly ungrateful? While she says it's not the last, I wouldn't put it past myself; I'm American, after all. But once again, the answer to my question is most likely a combination of them all.
I'd like to be a selfless person who could just do things for people all the time, but when you aren't getting it back, you'll get tired, because there's no one filling your own burned out tank back up, you know. If I scratch your back and you don't scratch mine, you get relief and I get circling thoughts about how fucking itchy my back is. So I hate that I can't be totally altruistic, I guess it wasn't how I was raised. Sooner or later I recognize any altruistic acts I've completed and start wondering where my Goodwill income tax slip is because it's almost January.
I think I've probably mentioned a time or two my habit of wishing time away, but I'm not so sure if I've ever spent much time here discussing my habit of what most would call daydreaming. I spend so much time thinking up scenarios in my head that will probably never happen (I won't lie, sometimes they do, for sometimes they are quite simple: pie, for instance), and not even just before bed but all day. I spend a grotesque amount of my time in an alternate universe within the realms of what my mind knows. I guess it took the place of reading, becoming much more personal and much less imaginative. I spend more time thinking up everyday occurrences that aren't happening than I spend attempting to make any of them happen. Or on anything else, for that matter. Like homework. I can't focus on anything but that which isn't happening or that I can't have.
That's my stupid curse upon myself, always wishing for things I can't have. The things I ever really want are the things I can't get to work out. I'd say that's maybe why I want them, but it doesn't really happen in that order, and sometimes I really do feel as if someone keeps dangling this little worm of opportunity in front of me, tugging to soon before I've caught on the hook.
Nah. I always want what could have been and I hang onto the past more than I realize and more than is healthy. Even when the hook would've killed me, even when I know it and even when I don't, I still want it because I couldn't have it. What a needy greedy beady-eyed child I am.
Now I want someone who will not only not drain me, but will energize me--through adventure, intelligence, passion, thought--I don't particularly care of the means, but this is so difficult to find these days. They just don't make 'em like they used to.
Now they're so layered--literally, maybe we aren't all as overweight as we seem when you peel off the current fashion--and our words are so layered and we have to distinguish through all the shit, you know? We have to search through all the different meanings. Words are curses because they can be so overly simple or overly detailed and still be wrong. I have to take what I believe you meant when you said what I heard through what you may have thought if you even projected yourself correctly and it's all a big tangled mess. I love knowing people, peeling their layers--to the point where I'm already through and to the core and bored within a matter of minutes or days. I should slow down but I get so eager and then I get so comfortable and instead of leaving I'm sitting there, bored and loyal as always.
I'm bipolar with my interest in people. I can't decide if I'm crazy about them or uninterested by them--of course, it could just be because I've always cared a lot more about them than they about myself and like I was saying, I'm not entirely selfless. I haven't let a guy get close in a while, didn't intend to, avoid it, will avoid it, and I don't know if it's because I'm crazy about them or uninterested by them. Probably just avoiding getting hurt by them, of course, as I'm not entirely selfless.
As usual I don't know where I'm going with this blog or life, and it is indeed a laughing matter. It's as if I've hit this road bump--on my head that is, and fell down into a rather dull rabbit hole than I can't click my heels out of. Just deep enough to get stuck, just deep enough for it to count, don't let him lie to you. Just a little bit lasts for a long while.
Another curse, did you know I'm always torn between two? A life of simplicity in a suitcase or assorted quirky knick-knacks? Oh, the list could go on but I won't bother you for a paragraph.
I need a third party person to tell me what I'm good at, where to go. I have a feeling I'm going to spend another semester stuck in this whole hole, another summer. Perhaps by next fall I'll head somewhere again.
In the meantime I'll just stay lost in thought.
S that won't ever happen.
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