"You know, grow up, meet someone, fall in love, get married, two kids and a white picket fence; I just don't think I'd be happy with that, I couldn't be content with the things that people seem to be content with.  I don't think I'll ever be content, I'll always want something more, something else."  Those weren't the exact words, but they mean what they meant.  Of course, many people feel like they wouldn't want that kind of cliché life, but they end up with it anyways, and they enjoy it.  Or they live in simmering resentment of it; either way, they live it.  Sentiments change; I don't think I feel quite the same as I did at that moment, and I don't think she does either, but that's almost a given; something as far-reaching as that, it changes from moment to moment, mood to mood, at least on a larger timescale.  It's not like opinions and feelings like that just disappear.  They grow.  Where such life plans lie now would be far harder to sum up, it's not a simple revocation of the above, the above is the starting point from which succeeding generations of self-conceptions have travelled.


I met someone once who, like me, didn't wear glasses, even though with our eyesights we should.  I shared the same set of reasons, bordering on the abstract.  Oh, the general discomfort of the non-glasses-wearer, the extra hassle, the fashion complications; those are all perfectly good, practical, semi-truthful reasons, but they aren't the ones that actually matter.  We all live in our own worlds; it's hard to truly connect unless you discover when another person spends time in the same mental places that you do.  Do we really need that kind of connection, though?  Sometimes it's better to just spend time around people who entertain and etc.  Then the moments feel just as moments; otherwise, moments feel either absolutely real or irredeemably fake.  Is it worth the fakeness?



Sometimes I become friends with the unlikliest of people.  One girl I know runs in circles so different from the ones that any of my "close" friends do that I find it somewhat odd to even know her, and every interaction seems slightly tinged by a kind of disconnect as long as I remain tied to others.  It's better sometimes to be just yourself; this is not something that people usually do, they are more than just defined by who they interact with, they are themselves a script whose credits column has listed the people around them.  I skipped EAS class alot, I must admit, running into this person on my way.  In the energy of the mid-morning, after the oblivion of sleep, life seemed more of a blank slate, skipping the class I was eventually to get my best marks of the term in seemed symbolic, and destiny disappeared along with predetermination.  But, it's impossible to know someone without knowing someone else; the semester ended, the mutual skipping no longer fit in the timetable, and I was left with no method of contact.  Fast forward to a chance reunion with a different group of people from vaguely the same origins (as far as my meeting of them is concerned; as groups and people, they were of completely different character).  There she is, just sitting there.  "Hey! What're you doing here!"  Every person is defined by others, because nothing could exist without everything else.