“But I don’t want to be!” ~M
I am sitting here on the floor with my Powerbook on my lap in front of my personal heater, looking at the seemingly endless pile of clean clothes I have to hang up. Oh, I have a face mask on too. It’s not the most pleasant sight, I suppose but some of the best ideas develop when most inconvenient or displeasant and you just have to write.
When was it more natural for people not to care? Has apathy become the norm that we are afraid to care? In a world where people are expected to do this and say that, have words become trite? Have people, things, ideas become so exhausted that we really just don’t care anymore?
A bevy of things have dawned on me this past week, too much that I don’t care to squander away any interest by mentioning them. Of course when I say dawn, I mean have happened and left me distressed. That’s besides the point, though. Since when have people just become people, as replaceable as your old pair of jeans? I am not sure if this is just the college and end of high school feeling harrowing in, but this feeling of dispassion is incomprehensible to me. I love a lot of people for themselves, for a number of qualities I don’t think I will find as a whole in other individuals. Sure, they say there are millions of people out there with your same interests, same hobbies, but you can’t replace someone as a whole so easily, can you? Their essence, maybe..
An old friend, a friend whom I admire for her intelligence, wit, sincerity and generosity, wrote me a letter today. Aside from the rushed handwriting that still was perfectly straight, I was taken aback by the content. It was daunting to realize some of the things she said. I don’t mean to make anyone feel small and she realizes this, but then, why, even from an assumed close friend, do these insecurities arise? What happened and why are some of the smartest, funniest and just, most fabulous people I know concerned about me, comparatively? This seems egocentric and as if I am qualifying my self-worth almost, but whatever, you should know better.
This isn’t what I was compiling in my head at the sink. I guess thoughts are lost from the bathroom to the bedroom–Maybe it is a good thing. My face mask is getting hard, to the point where I’m unable to show any emotion.. scary! More later as I eat this cake, given by N.