Times when my [personal] life is all mucked up seem to appear in one of two ways in blogland: I either blog a great deal, spilling my guts, or I reveal almost nothing and only write the most superficial posts. Since the last couple of months have been filled with memes and photographs, I would imagine that many of you have decided that I either don't give a crap about blogging anymore, or that there's too much going on to take the time to create original content. The latter is much closer to the truth.
I hope that's going to change as of this post. To be honest, my time is not exactly full at the moment. I've spent a lot of it in rather meaningless pursuits. The good news, I suppose, is that I've come to recognize that I need to pull my head out and do something of value. Too much pure introspection can be harmful for the soul.
So. Here I am. What should we talk about?
Well, this isn't a dramatic transformation. I'm still inside of my own head, after all, and not someone else's, so the only thoughts I'm going to have are still my own. What am I likely to want to talk about?
Why is it that when we're low, when something's wrong, human nature pushes us to make matters worse? I [obviously] have a specific example. I'm going through some shit at the moment that was predicted almost two years ago by a very good friend--someone who meant the world to me at the moment, whose opinion I chose to blow off because I didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to believe it would be that way. Well, if I'd believed it then, I would have saved myself a lot of suffering and worse. I certainly would not be in the mess I'm in now. So here I sit, in a mess that is probably 60% of my own making but that was probably 95% anticipated by that other person, wishing in vain that I wasn't here. It hurts like a son of a bitch. And the most frequent recurring thought that I have--beyond "Why?"--is the desire to contact that person who knew this would happen, and say, "You were right. You told me this would happen, and it did. And I'm sorry that I doubted you, I'm sorry that I didn't listen, and I'm sorry that you didn't get the credit at the time for knowing all along."
That's not going to change anything. That's not going to make anything better. I haven't talked with him in more than a year, and I've no reason to think that he desires to change that. What makes me think that he would want to know that he was right all along? Frankly, I imagine that he fully believes that he was right all along, else he would not have told me what he told me. There is nothing to be accomplished by trying to tell him, "You told me so."
Except that I could talk to him again.
Which would stir it all up again.
Which would make my already fucked-up life
even
more
fucked.
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