It's almost 4 AM.
You know what that means! More musings from the forlorn back corner of my mind. It is normally hidden beneath all the white noise of being alive and aware and surrounded by people... but when I get so tired that the press of every key is an effort, my mind gets a little reflective. Many of the thoughts that surface are old contenders - insecurities, wonderments, crushes, and self-recriminations (in that order). Usually they are as substantial as phantoms, and about as relevant. Yet they usually grasp my feeble attention and refuse to let it go.
How can I make this interesting to you, the reader? Perhaps if I made it interesting to myself - yet when I write of my own rising apathy and emotional frustration, how can I write in a fascinating way?
Yet I yearn to hold your attention. I feel it is worthwhile and it is right to make people stop doing one thing after another and instead focus on a single problem or person. For no matter how inefficient it may be over long periods of time, it is necessary to preserve...something. Something valuable inside of us. I don't know what it is.
I don't even know what I am talking about. Unlike normal circumstances, where I carefully pick each word to produce a specific effect, I am now writing entirely "from the heart". I haven't felt this sincere in some time. I feel an intense longing to experience something out of the ordinary - far beyond the petty dramas and transient joys of my life up to now. I feel, too, an intense need to share these desires with another.
It is so difficult to find another who would be appropriate, though. Normally, I feel a certain heartfelt desire to speak my heart to someone only to find that they are, for the moment, firmly rooted inside their minds. Other times, it is the opposite - a close and treasured friend will approach me to pour out his or her heart, only to find me in a less than fully receptive state of mind.
To grab someone with my heart I must be worthy of attention. I don't know how I can do this, because all my life I have been paid attention to because it is the polite thing to do. It is polite and decent to not neglect one's child. It is polite and decent to respond in a friendly way to someone who is attempting to make friends. Thus, since most people are polite and decent (to varying degrees), I have always found an attentive social hub for myself to nest into.
Have I ever truly merited this attention, however?
Have I ever inspired fascination, such as the emotion that I feel towards so many others?
Has anyone ever truly looked and paid attention to me for their own emotional benefit?
This is my quandary. It is so difficult to know for sure. And it could be that I am not giving those who care for me enough credit. To be sure, I am not always the easiest person to love, and I have always been loved (by a select few family members) regardless.
Yet my heart tells me that I have not. There is something missing, something that is un-inspirational in the human makeup that comprises me. I need to find a way to make my soul shine through this grubby and unimpressive outer layer.
But how?
As always I am left with a question.
How can I make this interesting to you, the reader? Perhaps if I made it interesting to myself - yet when I write of my own rising apathy and emotional frustration, how can I write in a fascinating way?
Yet I yearn to hold your attention. I feel it is worthwhile and it is right to make people stop doing one thing after another and instead focus on a single problem or person. For no matter how inefficient it may be over long periods of time, it is necessary to preserve...something. Something valuable inside of us. I don't know what it is.
I don't even know what I am talking about. Unlike normal circumstances, where I carefully pick each word to produce a specific effect, I am now writing entirely "from the heart". I haven't felt this sincere in some time. I feel an intense longing to experience something out of the ordinary - far beyond the petty dramas and transient joys of my life up to now. I feel, too, an intense need to share these desires with another.
It is so difficult to find another who would be appropriate, though. Normally, I feel a certain heartfelt desire to speak my heart to someone only to find that they are, for the moment, firmly rooted inside their minds. Other times, it is the opposite - a close and treasured friend will approach me to pour out his or her heart, only to find me in a less than fully receptive state of mind.
To grab someone with my heart I must be worthy of attention. I don't know how I can do this, because all my life I have been paid attention to because it is the polite thing to do. It is polite and decent to not neglect one's child. It is polite and decent to respond in a friendly way to someone who is attempting to make friends. Thus, since most people are polite and decent (to varying degrees), I have always found an attentive social hub for myself to nest into.
Have I ever truly merited this attention, however?
Have I ever inspired fascination, such as the emotion that I feel towards so many others?
Has anyone ever truly looked and paid attention to me for their own emotional benefit?
This is my quandary. It is so difficult to know for sure. And it could be that I am not giving those who care for me enough credit. To be sure, I am not always the easiest person to love, and I have always been loved (by a select few family members) regardless.
Yet my heart tells me that I have not. There is something missing, something that is un-inspirational in the human makeup that comprises me. I need to find a way to make my soul shine through this grubby and unimpressive outer layer.
But how?
As always I am left with a question.