"I'm not a puppy, I'm a girl."
Well, after beating Ultimate Alliance, and now attempting to re-beat it with a little help from my friends (because everything is more fun with friends) I've been reading a ton of comics.
I used to have a huge collection, not so much anymore.
I used to be a huge dork, nothing has changed.
I forgot how intellectually stimulating comics were. The writers go to lengths to make sure they work in some kind of educational content. People who read comics are not just pimply losers lacking social lives. People who read comics are losers who are getting their learn on.
The stories almost always have happy endings. The good guys win. The bad guys get away. We all learn a little about life and a lot about ourselves. Yeah, I *needed* that. 'Cause now I'm getting really uptight. No one ever seems to be enjoying it.
By "it" I mean the living experience, and also everything between here and there. Plans and goals are all well and good, but there's a wealth of living to be done in the interim and everyone seems to be suffering from it, rather than enjoying it. Which kind of bums me out. You see... I have this problem...
I like to save people.
I'm not very good at it, or very experienced. I can't save myself most of the time. I've made enough mistakes to see one coming from a distance, but that's the extent of my ability. I genuinely desire to make everything alright for everyone. Well, everyone who's interested in 'getting better'. I'm not interested in helping people who don't want to be helped.
Tonight, a best-friend of mine is having problems I couldn't solve for less than, say, 10'000 dollars. They aren't impossible problems, but their not easy either. (Come to think of it, I could solve a LOT of my own problems for 10 large.) Anyway, I feel for her. When I said goodnight tonight, it felt like she was mad at me. I know she was probably just afraid to go home. She was probably just afraid of what she might see when she walked in the door. She's not timid or prudish, let's just say there's a lot of no-good nonsense occurring far too frequently at her homestead.
Anyway, she can't ever be happy for too long. I don't think its her chemical imbalance. Maybe an addiction to chaos. Maybe an addiction to unhealthy love.
Why can't we just be happy?
My hippie friends are all happy. They are also in a horrendous degree of denial. Is that our only option? Its hard to have faith and hope in the face of so much evidence to the contrary. I, myself, rely heavily on self-medication.
Sometimes this friend and I have this conversation: "What could possibly be good about this life? Why would anyone be my friend, other than maybe to try and fuck me?" She asks me these questions all the time. I'd say its because she's a young girl, but I have a particular male friend who's a bit older than me. I've been this older guy's friend for about 12 years, and he's *still* saying, "I don't know why you guys like me. Where do I fit in? Why talk to me?".
Anyway, as I turned the conversation around on her, (oh god, I had to know what it was she liked about me. It gets so boring telling someone why you think their worthwhile without any reciprocation) she says... I'm a good conversationalist.
and we click.
and other reasons she'll not say.
Once upon a time, my best qualities were a serious lack of impulse control, spontaneity, and.. well, when I was young I was pretty darn cute. And now that all of that is gone. As I've aged I've gained forethought, and self-control, and lets face it.. I'm not nearly as cute. What have I got anymore to recommend me?
Oop! where did that identity crisis come from? Back to the subject:
CHEER UP YOU LOVELIES!!! Say the serenity prayer or something!
Don't let the man get you down, don't let anyone be reckless with your heart,
don't give up on the 'in-between', learn to embrace the meantime (cause really the meantime is all we ever had anyway).
I used to have a huge collection, not so much anymore.
I used to be a huge dork, nothing has changed.
I forgot how intellectually stimulating comics were. The writers go to lengths to make sure they work in some kind of educational content. People who read comics are not just pimply losers lacking social lives. People who read comics are losers who are getting their learn on.
The stories almost always have happy endings. The good guys win. The bad guys get away. We all learn a little about life and a lot about ourselves. Yeah, I *needed* that. 'Cause now I'm getting really uptight. No one ever seems to be enjoying it.
By "it" I mean the living experience, and also everything between here and there. Plans and goals are all well and good, but there's a wealth of living to be done in the interim and everyone seems to be suffering from it, rather than enjoying it. Which kind of bums me out. You see... I have this problem...
I like to save people.
I'm not very good at it, or very experienced. I can't save myself most of the time. I've made enough mistakes to see one coming from a distance, but that's the extent of my ability. I genuinely desire to make everything alright for everyone. Well, everyone who's interested in 'getting better'. I'm not interested in helping people who don't want to be helped.
Tonight, a best-friend of mine is having problems I couldn't solve for less than, say, 10'000 dollars. They aren't impossible problems, but their not easy either. (Come to think of it, I could solve a LOT of my own problems for 10 large.) Anyway, I feel for her. When I said goodnight tonight, it felt like she was mad at me. I know she was probably just afraid to go home. She was probably just afraid of what she might see when she walked in the door. She's not timid or prudish, let's just say there's a lot of no-good nonsense occurring far too frequently at her homestead.
Anyway, she can't ever be happy for too long. I don't think its her chemical imbalance. Maybe an addiction to chaos. Maybe an addiction to unhealthy love.
Why can't we just be happy?
My hippie friends are all happy. They are also in a horrendous degree of denial. Is that our only option? Its hard to have faith and hope in the face of so much evidence to the contrary. I, myself, rely heavily on self-medication.
Sometimes this friend and I have this conversation: "What could possibly be good about this life? Why would anyone be my friend, other than maybe to try and fuck me?" She asks me these questions all the time. I'd say its because she's a young girl, but I have a particular male friend who's a bit older than me. I've been this older guy's friend for about 12 years, and he's *still* saying, "I don't know why you guys like me. Where do I fit in? Why talk to me?".
Anyway, as I turned the conversation around on her, (oh god, I had to know what it was she liked about me. It gets so boring telling someone why you think their worthwhile without any reciprocation) she says... I'm a good conversationalist.
and we click.
and other reasons she'll not say.
Once upon a time, my best qualities were a serious lack of impulse control, spontaneity, and.. well, when I was young I was pretty darn cute. And now that all of that is gone. As I've aged I've gained forethought, and self-control, and lets face it.. I'm not nearly as cute. What have I got anymore to recommend me?
Oop! where did that identity crisis come from? Back to the subject:
CHEER UP YOU LOVELIES!!! Say the serenity prayer or something!
Don't let the man get you down, don't let anyone be reckless with your heart,
don't give up on the 'in-between', learn to embrace the meantime (cause really the meantime is all we ever had anyway).