Saturday Night

Sometimes it’s strange to look around at the place that you live in, especially when you’ve lived in it for years, and realize this is your life.  Right now my family is in bed and all is quiet, which is why I am still up when I should be in bed too.  But it’s a luxury to be alone, just me.  Even the cats are sleeping.

I stayed up and surfed YouTube.  Why?  For the simple reason that I can.  And I prefer to do it after my husband is in bed, because I feel silly watching music videos and tribute videos to tv shows he would never watch.  And it’s fun, I don’t do it often, so it’s a luxury to waste time like that.  But then I realize I should stop, and that’s when I look around my living room and come back to who I really am.  Sometimes it’s boring to come back to reality.

Most days I like my life, and even find it interesting.  I like making new things, today’s project was cheapskate screenprinting.  Maybe I will post some of the stuff I did later.   But surfing aimlessly also has the side effect of leaving me dissatisfied, a little, with my life.  Ah, how fun it is to watch the beautiful people in the media, then you realize it’s not you, not your life.

I was musing how I’m not really goth anymore.  I don’t wear black everyday, though I still wear my winged eyeliner close to everyday.  When did that happen?  A lot of it is for good reason.  I’m pretty comfortable in my own skin now, I don’t need a lot a fashion rules, and I still seem to have friends.  I’m not generally depressed or lonely, though I still feel a need to make more connections.   I would still love to find a mentor.  Really wish I had one of those.   And a small part of me worries that by relaxing too much, I will fail to be interesting.  I don’t want to be like everyone else.

I had two major goals for this year, one of which I’m on track for (a child) and the other I’m not (because of the child).   Next year, I really want to concentrate of some responsibilities I have been neglecting for, well, years.  I wonder if perhaps that is a side effect of the years of depression.   I certainly didn’t suffer from depression to the extent of other people, but looking back, there are many things that seemed too overwhelming to deal with.  So I didn’t.  I read my fantasy books about people I will never be and watched shows about chicks kicking ass, which I will never do.  And now I’m opening myself to the possibility that my life could be fun and interesting and great, and even better, satisfying.

I’m still trying to find my calling.  I really still don’t know what it is.  So I have been doing some self-reflection on things I feel strongly about.  One thing that comes to mind is that I want to help with the holes people hide inside.   Sometimes I’ll meet a person and find them totally uninteresting, and usually it’s because s/he seems to have no depth.  Then I’ll meet someone else who is just a vortex of pain and it’s way too much.   So where’s the median, where’s the point where you can be compassionate and non-judgmental without getting sucked down?  And how could I help?  Because it seems that a lot of people hide their true selves and then even forget it themselves.

My other thought is that it is all about people.  Everything in this world is about the connections we have.  I often visualize myself as a little red blood cell in the organism of the Earth.  (On my self-confident days, I visualize myself as a white blood cell, I always liked those better.)  We all think we’re so independent, so guiding our own choices, and yet as a mass we are very predictable.   I was listening to Wayne Dyer and he was talking about cancer, how it’s basically a few cells that start thinking they live in a vacuum, so they start growing aggressively, refusing to take into account that they are part of a larger whole.  And then they end up killing the larger whole, including themselves.

None of us are in a vacuum, and it seems like individually we have no influence at all.  Yet I am fascinated by these studies that show we have subtle, yet very real influences on the people we know.  Not only that, it seems to extend not just to our friends, but our friend’s friends.  How crazy is that?  It makes it even more important to be someone you can respect in the morning.

For a long time, I’ve had secret shames and the fear that I’m really an impostor.   And yet I know that I open myself up more and show my weirdness more than some do.   So I’m working on those hidden things I still feel bad about, and I’m working on taking myself to the next level, to the person I can be 100% proud of.   I don’t know if I’ll get it done in this lifetime, but I’m at a point where I believe that that’s about the only thing you can take with you.  Not necessarily your memories, but your growth.

Author: ~R

I write about life, people, and the things that interest in me. Which often includes death, sex, friendship, and the future of humanity. I hope for the best in people and I prepare for the worst. But no matter what happens, change is constant and everything will be ok.

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