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3.09.2012
Having a fascinating and slightly illuminating conversation with my friend Justin.
Knowing who you are, I assume, is probably very difficult, but helpful. Learning who you are, and becoming that person I am discovering is also very difficult. To grasp and understand and be.
I've also been complaining about my life as of late. My last blog post is a prime example of such complaining. It's not really all that bad. I'm just occasionally unnecessarily dramatic. The dull points in my life certainly outweigh the exciting points, yes, but there's really no need for me to exaggerate that.
Justin commented that he often has a hard time remembering that he has an entire life ahead of him. And I countered that. I think of it every day, all the time, actually, and wonder when it's going to be as magical as I once believe it would turn out to be.
Everything is different, and everything has not been good. There are good times, but those are few. And even though I am open, someone who revels in making mistakes, this life I have now, right now, has not made me interested enough to be able to look forward to making more of those mistakes. I get bored, you see.
I think that I have, over the course of my life, filled my head and heart with such wonderful stories and ideals and fancies of other lives much better than mine own, and now everything that happens, that I do, is compared to those other lives. In which the result is they hardly, rarely, measure up.
Not that I'm depressed. No, it sounds that way, surely. But that is not the case. I am more confused than depressed, and immensely curious.
If I had to title my current life it'd be thus: "The Most Dramatic Boring Non-Fiction Story You Have Ever Almost Finished". That's the title. I'm sure of it.
Justin has this intense passion for life. He wants it to be unexpected and full of aesthetic pleasure and passion and love and hurt. He yearns to share that with others.
I think I'd prefer to live happily, and at peace. Not interfering with others lives, insomuch as I crave the miracle of being able to change them. I enjoy seeing joy in others, but I am selfish, and I'd rather spend time and energy on my own happiness and the joy of others who are close to me, than spend that energy attempting to inspire someone else. Perhaps I'll end up indirectly and unconsciously inspiring somebody, but I assume that would be a rare happenstance.
I am quite a happy person I think, although I can be occasionally rather cynical. More of a 'pessimistic optimist', if you will. "Good times can happen, and will happen. Most likely later, unexpectedly, uncontrollably. Eventually." I should adopt that as my motto.
I believe that honesty is the best policy, unless telling the truth will lead to unbearable scars. I act all fun and energetic and confident, and for the most part it's not difficult. because I (more than less) am. But every so often I fail at producing a realistic image of that person.
I described Justin as a man of passion and action and idea. He added witty and handsome to that mix.
Perhaps I am thus: a lazy, empathetic and observant person. Imaginative. I dream, instead of think. Invent instead of initiate. React without movement, change without upsetting balance. And mostly, I guess I'm okay with that description of me. It sounds a little fancy, and also quite dull. A good composition of both interesting and discouraging attributes.
And though I assumed being enigmatic wasn't really my thing, it appears I may have quite a talent for it.