Feelings
I’m posting this in English especially because I don’t think I want *every*one to read things on the other blog. Stupid security feelings, I’m online and as exposed as anywhere else. Shush; will write about this exposure later on, now to go back to the topic.
Frankly, I’m a child of the internet. As a little kid I used to spend some time with the neighbors, some time alone, and as I grew older I became more accustomed to books rather than people. And when the books bored me out of my wits, enters Internet. Now I’m bored of this too, somehow, yet I never quit, I stay connected to my rss reader and twitter thingie and everything going on.
I mean, interactions are overrated a little bit. They’re nice and cozy and make you feel good, but it’s more of a comfort thing, it goes in the background, it’s something you run on rather than something flamboyant which gets all the attention, and if you miss the attention of other you’re still going to survive.
I’ve always felt that pervasive and solitary need to know, to find out stuff, to discover; of course, this is counter-balanced with the urge to sit idle and wash away the action, to step away from what seems to be a point of attraction. But there’s a little corner in my world, and from that corner I keep a watching eye over stuff and people. If I was a character in a game, I’d be a cross-breed between a nature mage and a melee tank fighter.
… Today I spoke on messenger with two ghostly people, I think almost 2 months have passed since my last conversation with them. I feel sorta dissapointed that after a 3-month pause, we touch base asking “what happened with you in this time?” – and the answer comes back sheepish, “Nothing much” ..
I mean, it’s as little as 3 years ago that I was in high-school and I would spend endless hours talking with people. I don’t know what we used to talk about, mostly gibberish nonsense of course, but the point is .. being an adult sucks; you lose spontaneity, lose your honest wondering over the world, lose your virginity over important matters, lose your carelessness. You ask yourself and then you shrug it away coldly, you can’t really pinpoint what happened, you feel the grind of daily life but you keep lying to yourself that “you’re a good person” – I know this sounds lame and commonplace, yet it must be said bluntly: adults suck donkey cock.
I feel like there are only two brief options ahead of anyone: either dedicate yourself to the world, study, travel, discover stuff – or dedicate yourself to a family or a community, provide support for them and so on.
My background as a kid is, perhaps, not the happiest possible; yet those problems seem now, by comparison, a little bit easier, a little bit nicer, a little more amendable. And as I grow older, I seem to recall happier times and start placing more weight on relationships and connections that I considered expendable as little as 2 years ago. It seems now, by virtue of time invested, that it’s better to keep a watchful eye over those with whom you’re crossed paths. It feels like the road is getting thicker and rougher, and in troubled times it’s better to hold another hand, even if it’s not a very warm one.
Relations and relationships grow on us, grow like hair almost. Trimming is essential any now and then, cutting the dead ends and the overused portions, and to some extent spending time apart has this effect. Sometimes parasites grow on your relation, other people or other situations that cling to you, and then you need to wash your metaphorical hair, shake things a bit, quarrel and break dishes and then start feeling fresh again.
I’m feeling a little melancholic right now, even though I can hardly say I have material to dream about. I’m a big fan of letting your hair grow naturally, and I apply this to ev’ry aspect of my life. Hence I’m a guy very hard to digest, my internal life pours outside, and I hardly care to polish or enlighten my self image. If you’ve seen the french movie Vagabond, then you know what my feminine couterpart would be. Not that scruffy, though, but as lazy as possible.
I’m not into reflectors, high heels or high life, never was, never could care. I understand how it works, of course, but it seems rather tragic to me and a little bit ironic too – men and women working their asses off, never having a good contact with themselves, nice and working machines, bestowed with money that they are cursed to spend on useless and trivial stuff. Fastidious dinners and luxury boats, $5,000 watches and $200,000 sport cars .. it’s a glittery yet sad world, and I don’t want to get there.
Relationships don’t really grow on me, I spend my time in my cave and I seldom leave. Sometimes people seem to click with me for a couple of years, come by and stand watching with me; then we say goodbye and never look back. It’s a dream of anyone, learning to fly and getting off the moist ground, feeling the cold breeze and touching the sky. I need to let go and I do let them go, it is nice enough that I get some visits every now and then, that I get accounts of the journey; it’s almost tempting.
Actually, all I wanted to say at the beginning of this post was something about feelings. I’m not a really good talker when it comes to it, 8-9 paragraphs of digression stand witness. But then again, I suppose everything I actually wanted to say is plain clear simply from the subtext.
Because I’m in my cave even on the internet, and I don’t feel like going out in sun anytime soon.