Just another evening...

It's funny to think about what other people want for us, in us and with us. These concepts perpetually confuse me. A tendency to overanalyze , and the skill to debate the things I have done and the decisions I have made...I can keep myself occupied forever. Probably not an overly healthy mindset, but it's mine.

It's hard enough for me to determine what I want for myself. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up....assuming I make that far. Of course, I will. I'm destined for many years ahead of self-analysis. I'm trying to vent, in a capacity that makes me appear - non-crazy (a lil crazy really doesn't bother me), non-contemptuous and most importantly, non-identifiable. That of course means there are many a vague comment ahead.

On the evening, of yet another day, of yet another year, I sit hear typing. It's again the wee hours of the morning and I'm confused. I'm trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle. I'm trying to figure out what someone else is thinking. I'm also trying to figure out what I'm thinking. And, of course whether those two set of thoughts coincide.

When did things become so complicated? Or are they really simpler now? Is simple good? Isn't a little bit of excitement a good thing? Everything in moderation they say. But I guess that's the thing. Moderation is not necessarily a concept that works for everyone. It's difficult for a person like myself, who has a highly addictive personality. It's a great skill, if used for good instead of evil.

I know I really can't know what someone else is thinking. In some instances, I probably don't want to know. Especially considering all the factors involved. I don't want to negatively affect any potentially affected party (and most importantly, I really hope there are no fallout victims here). Christ, I hope. Otherwise the whole thing is a sham. Okay, I've gone all negative.

There are no fallout victims. That's what I was told. I was never told that before. The topic was evaded all together. I suppose that should have been enough to set off the alarms in my head. But, I was....hrmmmm, there are so many words that could be inserted here - niave, stupid, desperate, sad, pathetic and hopelessly in love. Foolish me.

I'm still sort of foolish. I proved that to myself this past weekend. I really did have fun and I'm suprisingly happy that I did. But, I'm very much concerned of being the fallout victim.

So - as opposed to becoming someone new's fallout victim - I find myself experiencing the same things over and over again, each time hoping for a new ending - a happy ending. Fucking fairytales and sitcoms. Nothing gets worked out in a half hour (17-22 mins when we factor in commercials)....except maybe a handjob. How does that help me. I have a vagina.