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Thursday, November 20, 2003

Open the floodgates *just* a crack.

When those around me reflect on their lives or current situations I find myself wanting to give some sort of encouragement. Either that, or I then pin myself down reflecting on my own failings or disappointments. Holidays are the worst. Normally I can ignore my own problems, being a procrastinator and all, but when you're "supposed" to be happy and cheerfull on a holiday it brings up a lot of issues in people. Which brings out a lot of issues in me. I've noticed that birthdays are the worst. My ex's birthday shouldn't be taken as the catalyst for this post, by the way. I've been thinking on it since my friend Jarrod's 30th a couple weeks ago. Which got me thinking about Kristina's 34th. Jarrod and his worrying about the future, and Kristina's worrying about her lost time.

I don't really like to talk about myself. I know, I know... I seem to talk a lot about myself, telling little stories or my opinions. The thing is, I am usually trying to get whomever I'm conversing with to open up and share themselves with me. Lead by example, you know? The thing is, most people don't want to open up unless they have some angst or I pry it out of them. Everybody gets so dismissive when confronted about being in a bad mood, when talking things through has time and again proven itself as a great help instead of bottling things up. Goes with my belief that feeling bad sometimes feels good. Hence, we have goths. Every goth I know has a soft spot for Eeyore. So I like to talk with those I love, instead of letting them get away with "Nothing's wrong" or "It's too hard to explain" when I notice they're feeling down or blue. I try and share my experiences with them to ease their pain. Sometimes I help, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I come SO CLOSE to helping, then when I reach the limits of my articulation or abilty to stay focused, I fumble and unwind the safety net I had just built into so much tangled yarn. THAT's when I start dwelling on myself and withdrawing as well. So yeah, this morning I was a bit down. I'm okay now though, thanks for asking.

Birthday's are the worst I think. It's the whole aging, where have I been, where am I going, who has been\is\will be in my life and why aren't\are they in my life questions conveniently wrapped up and covered in candles. When you hear from old loves and family the ONE DAY this year, it makes you think about how close your ties are. Or, as it has been with me, NOT hearing from someone like a parent somehow puts the blame on yourself. How come I'm not loved as much as I deserve to be? How come I'm not as successfull as I obviously should be? Where's my fucking nice house, fast car, and beautiful wife? Well, since I am a realist I'm pretty content with my modest yet messy house, practical yet quick car, and a very good friend that's very fun to look at. I'm not bitter, or have many regrets if any. Then again, it wasn't MY birthday. I'll probably have some VERY different things to say on January 12th.

So anyway, I just wanted to write that I think people are interesting. And I like to think I am too.