*Horribly*, *Completely* uninteresting.
I hear Chad say he's going to make more of an effort to post in his journal. But he doesn't. Becuase he has nothing to say.
It's something I understand. Because *I* have nothing to say.
I used to be overflowing with things to say. There was a point in time when I loved talking to people and just talking back and participating in this wonderful floating cross pollination of thought with all those buzzing lil words.
And now I just shrug a lot and more people know me as a quiet person than a talker.
I've always been a watcher. I've always been the one watching EVERY aspect of a situation, floating in the background, checking it all out.. thoroughly enthralled with the playing out going on in front of me.
Over time, I found a voice to go with it. And I started talking about all those things I figured out while I was watching.
Maybe I've gone into another watching phase.
Maybe parts of me are too closed off... is that possible while other parts are to thinly sheathed?
I think maybe it is.
I hope it is.
Otherwise, I've got *no clue* what's up with me.
Another phase... a phase in the larger metamorphosis.
I'm finding myself jerking away when hands come toward me lately. So I'm really hoping this is just another phase.
I talked to chad about this all last night and lost my urge to post about it... but the more I thought about it, I need this reminder for the next time I feel this way.
Sometimes, I think I would like to be the sort of person everyone likes. I would like to be sweet and laid back and mellow and just give as much as I could to everyone all the time. I would like to be that person that you just can't not like.
But I can't be.
Because all that requires a mentality and a peace of mind I just don't have.
Wether it's a pervasive sense of zen, a better than normal existence, or just the true blue ability to see the good in everyone...
I can't do that. That's not me. I talk about the bad I see. All the bad I see. I talk about the good I see, but that being less, the ratio is necessarily skewed.
I can't embrace it when I'm just an out and out bitch. Not like I used to.
But neither can I deny that there is pleasure derived from getting off a really scathing remark.
It's hard to be witty *and* complimentary.
It's POSSIBLE... just difficult to not come off as being sarcastic.
So.. I wish sometimes I could think it was all good.
But it's not. So I can't. I can enjoy the lives and company of those who DO think it's all good... and just hope that my raging doesn't destroy their nice happy glow for them.
I don't mean any harm.
On a different note...apparently something about my personality screams that I never need help.
I don't mind it so much.
I just wonder why.