I don't think that I can think a single thought to myself. I want everyone to know everything that I'm thinking; as if I were to just say everything out loud, everyone would know exactly what I mean and supernaturally connect with me. It would be cool if certain people had radars about where the other was at certain times, and the radar would tell them when that person was feeling sad or happy and they wouldn't even be in the same room. Ever. Like an emotional Siamese twin. As a kid I used to fantasize about one person who knew everything I was thinking at the exact time I was thinking whether or not I was with them or not.
I guess I can't articulate this thing that I call a supernatural connection. I am only talking about this because it's on the forefront of my mind. Today Nadia was telling a story and it involved her saying: "Do you know if they have a blah blah blah around here?" I thought it was hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing. Even as I lied down to take a nap I couldn't stop laughing. Other things on the forefront of my mind: I'm tired and I need sleep. I need more sleep as I get older, and I'm only twenty two.
I like it when people care about something deeply, like the environment or artistic integrity or health care or self actualization or another human being. I hate talking and talking and saying "what do you think?" and the response is: "I don't know. I just like to do my own thing." I also hate it when I find myself thinking this way. I don't do careless or passionless.
I had the strongest urge to say "I love you" to everyone I saw today. I didn't. I'm messy, and spilling everywhere. I don't want to take the time to collect it all, I want to let it scatter all over the floor. I am going to burst . . . waiting and waiting and waiting. . .I will wait.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
I won't get tired of you.
Every once in a while one person in particular will leave an impression on me. I go through my life talking to lots of individuals; and make no mistake, who they are and their thoughts and feelings are important to me; but maybe once every six months to a year I’ll have a conversation or a couple of interactions with someone and find myself thinking about that person later. I find myself wondering about their life and what exactly makes them the way they are. What makes them have the thoughts that they have and what makes them decide which thoughts are okay to say out loud? I wonder if they’re like me. And I wonder if I have ever made such a big impression on someone.
In each one of my friends I can see a part of myself. That means that a part of me will want the company of only certain people at certain times. I have to remind myself to give them parts of myself too. Because it’s all about pouring into one another and without doing that you run out of things to pour . . . but that’s another subject.
Here’s a really short, longer than necessary, mini autobiography.
I’ve spent most of my life being uncomfortable in my surroundings. Whether at home or school, I was uncomfortable. There is a plethora of reasons why: dirty looks, awkwardness (on my part), my upbringing. . . Friends came in my life and left. Family members either dramatically changed or my relationship with them became non-existent. Some bad things happened. I don’t claim that anything about my life was how I wanted it to be. But the point of this mini autobiography is to state that I’ve always wanted to get out of town, change my look, meet cool open minded people, and I didn’t want anyone to get tired of me.
I got out of town. That made me happy.
The decision about whether I go to LA next semester for film studies is pending. I know I should go but I don’t want to. As the date draws near, I break into a sweat and start to panic. Maybe it’s because for the first time in my life, I am somewhere along the lines of contentment. I’ve surrounded myself with people who like to sit around telling long stories that say something about who they are and what they believe. I’ve surrounded myself with people who care about things. I’m going to school and writing scripts and taking long walks and doing all the things I like to do. I like it here. I’m tired of always starting a new life.
Or maybe some little person who is impressed with other little people, like myself, should be excited and hope that all these little mini lives lead to something stable. A place where you can grow old; and eat dinner together every night.
In each one of my friends I can see a part of myself. That means that a part of me will want the company of only certain people at certain times. I have to remind myself to give them parts of myself too. Because it’s all about pouring into one another and without doing that you run out of things to pour . . . but that’s another subject.
Here’s a really short, longer than necessary, mini autobiography.
I’ve spent most of my life being uncomfortable in my surroundings. Whether at home or school, I was uncomfortable. There is a plethora of reasons why: dirty looks, awkwardness (on my part), my upbringing. . . Friends came in my life and left. Family members either dramatically changed or my relationship with them became non-existent. Some bad things happened. I don’t claim that anything about my life was how I wanted it to be. But the point of this mini autobiography is to state that I’ve always wanted to get out of town, change my look, meet cool open minded people, and I didn’t want anyone to get tired of me.
I got out of town. That made me happy.
The decision about whether I go to LA next semester for film studies is pending. I know I should go but I don’t want to. As the date draws near, I break into a sweat and start to panic. Maybe it’s because for the first time in my life, I am somewhere along the lines of contentment. I’ve surrounded myself with people who like to sit around telling long stories that say something about who they are and what they believe. I’ve surrounded myself with people who care about things. I’m going to school and writing scripts and taking long walks and doing all the things I like to do. I like it here. I’m tired of always starting a new life.
Or maybe some little person who is impressed with other little people, like myself, should be excited and hope that all these little mini lives lead to something stable. A place where you can grow old; and eat dinner together every night.
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