Mona has served up some self-referential Poetry Friday, and me, I's not sure where to go with it. Damn you, Mona! Just like a woman--half the time it's smooth sailing, and half the time it's a struggle against the very forces of Nature.
Okay, so I've been rolling this around in my head for several hours now, and still haven't come up with anything earth-shattering, anything with a "Wow!" factor, and certainly no Pucker Factor.
Roight. Here we go. Enough fiddling about.
Blogging is, by it's very existence, a shout of self. "I wrote this, pay attention to me!" I blog, therefore I want people to pay attention to me. I am, however, a somewhat introverted person, a quiet person. I tend to strip most of the really personal stuff out of here, or else cover it in such a garish overlay of silliness that you'd have to read pretty hard and with a pretty big grain of salt to find the core of truth in it. So, (some) full disclosure forthcoming, in the form of a whole lotta "I" statements.
I am sensitive. Wildly so. When I was a very small kid the sight of another child crying would make me cry. I'm still this way, tho not quite THAT bad. A very elderly patient called this morning to get some help sorting her meds out. She was distressed because she couldn't find her fifth prescription bottle, and started crying on the phone. It tore my heart out.
I won't, however, ever go back to the "mood stabilizers." I'd rather be near-suicidally depressed and manically high at times than a soft, puddingesque "okay" all the time. That's not living, that's zombiehood.
I publically and proudly profess that I do not believe in any god. This is true. My Catholic upbringing, however, was hammered in so deeply that even in the midst of my most certain moments I still think "Crap, what if I'm wrong?"
I think more than one sexual partner at the same time is highly over-rated and way too hyped by the pr0n industry. In my time I've been treated to several encounters with two partners and once, very briefly, to three partners and honestly all I could think about every time was "How do I make sure everyone gets a fair share?" I'm the sort of person who can only make one person happy at a time, sorry.
I often feel powerless. I don't know if this is a feature of my society as a whole or of my own sense of self, but when I can't fix something that is either within or beyond my control it irks the ever-loving shit out of me. By nature I'm a fixer. An unskilled one at that, but a fixer nonetheless. When I can't fix it I feel like another f word--"failure."
I used to be terrified of the dark. It wasn't until my late 20s that I finally got over that. Mostly. Once in a very great while I let a little of that "there's something following you" fear through, just to see if I've beaten it, and every single time it's just as strong as it ever was, if not stronger for all the time it's been spending locked up in my subconcious mind.
I often worry that my stories and my past events and all the things I've done aren't really that interesting. I fear I'm hopelessly ordinary, and that's a sad thought for someone who likes to think of himself as being the sort of person who, when he's old, people will refer to as "eccentric."
I think I learned how cool a pipe could be was from The Professor, Encyclopedia Brown's parental-type unit. And no, I don't inhale, and yes, I limit myself to no more than one serving of tobacco a day (cigar or pipe) and yes, it's my only vice. Well, that and women, but I don't smoke more than one woman a day either.
I think The Catcher In The Rye is one of the worst books I've ever read. Furthermore, I think the practice of making students disassemble books in English Lit classes is the main reason there are so few people who read for pleasure anymore.
I also find women who read a lot very enticing. Nothing is sexier than brains.
I dream, deeply and vividly. I wish I remembered more of them.
I still self-edit, even when I'm fully disclosing. I, you see, still can't bring myself to offend people. *wry smile* I've written and erased at least three statements from this post. I guess I'm doing good to have gotten this far. Baby steps. Baby steps.