A longtime friend of mine recently came to the conclusion that I've been hacked. She's basically convinced that whoever it is that she's talking to is most definitley not me, and that I should get off the line as soon as possible so D can come back.
On the surface of things, it's easy for me to shake my head and dismiss it as nothing. Moods misread as masks, some sort of simple confusion like assigning the character on the screen to the actor in the supermarket.
I mean, there's no doubt that I am, and will probably always be an intensity junkie. Seeking passion in anything, looking to drain marrow from whatever source I can find. But if that's true then there's really no way I could stand here at all and try to deny the inverses that stare back from the mornings' mirror:
Victim
Put Upon
Drama Queen.
I suppose everyone has a little of all these things both good and bad inside of them, and it's not too hard to consider that we all might lean a little more towards particular sides of the diamond once in a while. But is it possible that the missteps and broken windows that have plagued the past few years of my life are nothing more than the result of my own masking off of the entire picture so that only one reflection could shine through at a time? Choosing to be something I'm not instead of trying to figure out or at least face who I actually am?
There's a phone that shows the name when you call.
Here's a thought
I shouldn't be thinking.
The strange thing is, this isn't the firstRae used to say that there was "Happy Dan" and then there was this other guy that she didn't really like as much, and she never much understood where one went when the other came out.
time the idea has been suggested to me.
On the surface of things, it's easy for me to shake my head and dismiss it as nothing. Moods misread as masks, some sort of simple confusion like assigning the character on the screen to the actor in the supermarket.
Somehow I'm taken back to this celebrity couples interview thing I flipped by on TV a while back where Barbara Walters asked, "So Monica, what do you like to do in your spare time?" -- and David Arquette rolled his eyes and answered,But then as I started to think about it, I kinda got wrapped up in the idea of this duality (plurality?) people claim to see in me. Bouncing around ideas maybe I shouldn't have, examining past actions and mistakes as if they were some Harvey Dent flip of a coin."Her name is Courtney dammit!"
I mean, there's no doubt that I am, and will probably always be an intensity junkie. Seeking passion in anything, looking to drain marrow from whatever source I can find. But if that's true then there's really no way I could stand here at all and try to deny the inverses that stare back from the mornings' mirror:
Put Upon
Drama Queen.
I suppose everyone has a little of all these things both good and bad inside of them, and it's not too hard to consider that we all might lean a little more towards particular sides of the diamond once in a while. But is it possible that the missteps and broken windows that have plagued the past few years of my life are nothing more than the result of my own masking off of the entire picture so that only one reflection could shine through at a time? Choosing to be something I'm not instead of trying to figure out or at least face who I actually am?
Cusack the chauffeurI don't know. Lately so many things seem cloudy. Like I'm flying kites in the rain, trying to keep the strings from getting entangled. The good times and the lonely nights, the excitement of new friends and the holding on to the past. --All these places in my world where the thing I really want to do most of all is sit you down and say "What's going on? Is everything ok? Are we good?" -- yet knowing that simply asking the question is tantamount to turning on the houselights, breaking the glass, and stopping the ride.
or Cusack the killer?
Intensity junkie... yeah right.Here's an idea -- Lets stop every two days so we can examine what's been happening, ESPN replay everything to death and try to figure out what everything's supposed to mean instead of just living out loud and making every moment the very best it can be. Lets smell the flowers once and then stay home forever while we try to find the perfect words to describe how cool it was instead of running out with the next starshine to find more flowers, more aromas, more life to share, more passion, more love for each other and days that no one else but us could ever have...
*sigh*There's a ring on a chain that's hanging on my wall.
There's a phone that shows the name when you call.
Here's a thought
I shouldn't be thinking.
I shouldn't be thinking at all.
[Listening to: Deep Inner Voices, "Duality"]
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