Tuesday, January 30, 2007

I need to study.

I think about other people more than I think about myself. That's hardly out of kindness or compassion. It's just the way I'm wired, and it certainly doesn't mean I'm any less selfish. I imagine things, and I imagine people, and I love understanding.

There are times, though, when I have to step back and realize that I'm only living one life. And at times like that I find that I am always unsatisfied with who I am.

I really don't want to go into a long explanation of why I don't particularly like myself, because you are all my good friends and I know it's unnecessary whining in this context, but it's true that I wouldn't really want to be friends with myself. Because I have this strange ability to step outside of myself and look at me from that perspective, I tend to think of myself as a character in a book. I'm not really a personality worth pursuing: if I was writing myself, I'd probably give up and move on.

That said, this only bothers me from time to time. Often, I am thankful for my cold, distant exterior and unremarkable features, because I can watch people without fear of having to join them. I can be almost as happy watching people than if I were having fun myself.

Alrright, this post is beginning to scare me, poor sentence structure aside. Maybe I'm having a down period, and this is how it translates. Insightful and depressed are often similar, or at least in my case.

And here's how dreaming translates.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hmm. Maybe you are boring for you because you already know yourself..And maybe someone else would like to read more about the character in the book..