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Nell Carter died today. That leaves me very sad.

Then I actually watched an entire episode of Good Morning Miami. And that left me pretty horrified.
Everything about love and romance and those deeper levels of actual meaningful interaction boiled down into 20 minutes of bad acting, horrible writing, and piles and piles of the most offensively vile glop.
I am disgustingly jaded when it comes to love.
I've pretty much decided that I'm incapable of it.
Not of giving it, of course. But of entering into that sort of pact with someone.
I love my friends. I love some of my friends more than I thought it was possible to love people at all. Ever.
I love parts of my family in such a familiar way that it doesn't even register as such most of the time.
I can love things and places. I become passionately attached to all manner of things and people.

But when it comes to actual romantic love... I dunno. I used to say that I just wasn't built for it. That's not true. I'm custom fucking made.
The thing is, most people aren't worth it. They aren't worth my time, my effort. They certainly aren't worth my heart on a platter. It's rare enough to find people I enjoy having CONVERSATIONS with, let alone someone with whom I could ever connect with in a way that leaves me without question and without reservation about every inch of who and what they are and I am and we are.
Even thinking about all that sort of makes my shoulders scrunch up.

I've gotten sort of close. Heh. I've fooled myself alot. I've decided to accept less than I need for chunks of time and it's done nothing but leave me worse for the wear.
So I'm bitter, jaded, untrusting, cynical, and either far too quick to judge or absolutely the last to realize that I really should have been judging.
And sometimes I really dislike that about myself. There are times when I get into huge berating modes where all I can think is how fucking horrible I am and can be to people. And I resolve to be better, be nicer, just fucking love more. But there are reasons for every little nick and scratch on my rose colored glasses.
I earned them all.
Which is nothing at all like *deserving* them all.
Sort of like the difference between acknowledging how jaded and bitter and curled in I am and actually enjoying it or trying to further it.

And that's why I should never watch things like Good Morning Miami. Becuase it takes one of those incredibly big things that I know I want, feel I won't ever have, and makes it into a punchline.
a poorly written punchline.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Jan. 23rd, 2003 08:38 pm (UTC)
It's funny how you summed up the feelings of so many people in one page. I'm growing colder and colder as I grow up. I used to be a completely trusting person, who loved everyone. Now after playing a few hands with romance I've just come to the conclusion that I am a loaner. I can't imagine ever meeting anyone and feeling that click again, feeling that I need to be with them. Caring about someone, sharing my little amount of space, allowing someone free range of my thoughts. It just seems like a joke like you said. Like some icon I was raised to worship, that like most idols is just a statue. A dream I wanted so badly to be real, but when I awoke it was just day to day bullshit wrapped in taxes. I feel your pain, but offer no help. Just wanted to say I feel ya.-AgentAbstract-
Jan. 23rd, 2003 09:17 pm (UTC)
..gotta wonder how jaded and yeah yeah all that you'd be if you didn't live in a pit. 'Cos, y'know what? you kind'a do, there. Clone you and raise it in a "nice" gated community somewhere, see how that turns out... okay, if it gets too teen-angsty on us when it goes to college, you can push the Off button. Still.
Jan. 24th, 2003 04:48 pm (UTC)
Well, I dunno.
I like me. If I were to have been raised in a different way, I might be happier, sure. But I probably wouldn't be as intelligent or interesting. I would probably be lacking in the bizarre sort of integrity I cart around all the time. And I like that bizarre integrity.

My life pre-romantic entanglements left me pretty fucked up. And somehow, through all the mistakes and bullshit and self abuse and heartache, I've straighted out an incredible amount of my shit.
So... I dunno if I'd be so quick to trade it all in.

Jan. 24th, 2003 06:56 pm (UTC)
happy you does not necessarily equal cool nifty you, indeed.
Jan. 23rd, 2003 11:39 pm (UTC)
deadly serious here...
I've been seeing the theme song from "Gimme a Break" all week -- I was wondering why... this happens with me a lot -- my psychic power is thinking more about people that are about to die -- never aware of it, really, until after they're dead. When I was little, I hugged 4 people that I can remember within a week of they're dying -- when I was little, I NEVER touched other people unless serious force was involved.

Nell Carter, we barely knew ya...
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )


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