my only regret is that just as soon as i reach a conclusion, i immediately reverse it and consider that avenue. sometimes, deep in moody thought while driving, i'm rather surprised i don't randomly run into some stationary object. perhaps subconscious survival instincts are stronger than surmised?
i much prefer the company of a toasted bagel to many people, so when i'm forced (ranging from meeting a friend's friend to related by marriage) to get to know someone 'new' i'm not exactly cranky but i'll strain myself a bit to be distantly polite. my best friend amber once remarked upon my ability to read people, and how i use it purposefully to keep people off-guard. i was quite happy with such a description, seeing how it aligned me well with dr. house, m.d.
but i've never really done much with said ability to develop it. if i have the sort of gift for innate recognition of drives and motives she described, it lives on the same primal level that its observations are processed on. the information and conclusions exist solely as vibes or intuitions: i can't grasp them firmly enough to perform the sort of in-the-moment psychological mayhem house has raised to an artform. don't think i wouldn't play along if i could, though.
so much of my inner life, which dominates my entire life, is about finding meaning and trying to fit in. mostly by not fitting in as best as possible in the important ways, so please don't think me a blatant conformist. i want to blend into a crowd yet retain enough undeniable qualities that i somehow stand out. i want to wear my bleeding, emo heart on my sleeve yet remain mysterious and aloof. i guess i just want to get the joke, and find a way to uniquely communicate the punchline to as wide an audience as possible.
what i don't want is what seems most people do want. either that makes me a true artist or just another square peg in a world of round holes. my hope is that by finding a better metaphor to describe my cosmological positioning to Life, i'll find my calling. i'll let you know how it goes.
