Saturday, February 12, 2011

And that's just that

There is a term for people in my situation.
That is, souls who just can't figure out why they can't figure it out. Thus, to try to eleviate the status quo and find something worth blogging for (or living, I don't know) I'm... here I go... coming out of the closet.. I'm ..."in treatment".

What I'm "in treatment" for hasn't been given a name. Am I depressed? Nuts? Weird? Psychotic? Too thoughtful? Ridiculous? Yes, probably and I don't know. I've got to tell you, 11 year old me (whom I consult with quite a bit) wouldn't have believed you if you told her she'd be in treatment in 2011. Of course, 11 year old me would have thought 32 year old me would be living on the moon (true, I wrote an essay on it) instead of in an inner city suburb in Melbs but anyway.. I digress.

My err... what do we call her: My voice of reason (MVOR)? is a poised, thoughtful, intelligent, kind and insightful person who will interrupt my diatribes with highly reasonable examples of why I shouldn't be so hard on myself. I wish I was more like her, but I'm not. I'm the messy person who comes in with an overcooked imagination and disorganised handbag that spills everywhere, often in a bad mood from work and who sits on the couch and blabs, blabs, blabs in a way that is most unattrative and I'm sure highly yawnful.

I'm the opposite of what I want to be.
And what do I want to be?

...just normal... everyday...
simple really.
Not quite sure how many people actually achieve this so called simple stuff, but I'll give it a go.

Time to give someone else my kite string to anchor me for a while.
I've realised it's rather impossible to be the one holding it and flying at the same time.
You just get lost.

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