Mincing words.

So much within, and so little willingness to let it all out; really, openly, honestly out.

Why? Because I am secretive by nature.

Some people call it depth, some refer to layers, or a chameleon-like ability to change for environment. All I know is that I am different things to different people. I sense this and reside in their vision as they would see me. At times I feel like a mirror, reflecting whatever they project for me. Most people are shallow enough to simply accept this, secure in their ‘knowledge’ of who and what I am. The sheep.

The select few who look deeper earn a measure of respect from me.

But I mince words here. Not just right here in this sentence, this paragraph, this post, but in this blog. Mincing words.

I circle my meanings and subjects, dancing from point to point, barely touching the true heart of the matter. Only the astute, the observant and intuitive, and those who have knowledge of what I speak are able to really decipher my ramblings. For the casual reader, they may seem to be fairly bland, perhaps wordy, observations.

And they are. They are often even balancing on a razor’s edge of nonsense. They dance, dance, dance around what I really mean, or feel.

Why?

Only some are meant to understand. Those who don’t understand, shouldn’t. The wrong people must not read what I say and know what I think or feel.

Many things to many people. Sometimes what I represent to one person does not match what I represent to another. It would not do to destroy perceptions. I do so hate to disappoint. There is either more or less of me than most people see. Why confuse?

And why do I not be simply that which I am for all people? I have been too fractured for too long. Shattered, really. It is a long process through this life to draw the sharp edges back together and fit them in place. The neverending jigsaw puzzle. Will I ever be whole, smooth and seamless?

Probably not. For now, I am what I am. Ask yourself what I am to you, then take a long look in the mirror and ask yourself why I am that to you. Chances are, it’s because of something you want or need.

If you can honestly say you want or need nothing from me, then why are you still around? There can only be one preferred answer to that. If you know you have that answer, I thank you for it.

Sometimes it’s so refreshing to just waste time on trivial enjoyment. Refill the reservoir…

One by one, my freedoms are being bled away from me, and no one seems to care to stop it.

Please, government officials, STOP THE MADNESS!

FBI Wants to Watch You Type

This scares the bejeezus out of me.

And now I’ve added a link to yet another blog. Oh, the lunacy!

More stream of consciousness.

I think too much. Well, other people might say that. I personally feel that I don’t think enough and feel far more than I should.

So today I was thinking, why do I know the people I know, like the people I like. What draws me to some individuals, and why am I completely repelled by others?

I can point to character traits, of course.

Intelligence is intoxicating to me. I gravitate toward genius and orbit around these blazing suns, an insignificant satellite just happy to be in the solar system. Mere retention of information is not intelligence to me. It’s the creative mind, the rational mind, the ability to form original opinions, with solid reasoning behind them. (Even if I don’t agree.)

A sense of humor added atop intelligence is enough to slay me. In a way, it’s a part of the intelligence. The sensible ability to laugh, at anything, including the self is incredibly important. People who take anything too seriously become either obsessed or just downright tedious. Or both. Either way, they are not for me, and I am certainly not for them.

Similarities of taste always help. Something hugely attractive to me is an interest in music, and even better, some ability. Understanding of rhythm, understanding of the way music can tug the soul to another state, the ecstatic bliss of being completely lost, physically affected by the sound…someone who can relate to this is someone I can relate to. Taste in music is rather important as well. Country music is Joyzbane. That’s just the way it is.

All these things are important, a big part of what makes me interested by, and maybe interesting to, others. But it would be an enormous lie to say that was the sum of what pulls me toward a person. There is one thing I have found that is common with every single person with whom I’ve felt a truly profound connection. (And there aren’t many of these. Very few. Tragically few.)

I really dig someone from whom I have something to learn. I adore people who make me want to strive, who unknowingly expose me to new thought, inspire new ideas in me. A little selfish, maybe? Probably. All I know is I swiftly tire of those who are undynamic, who have nothing new to show me. There has to be a little mental tug that keeps me coming back or I grow bored and simply disengage.

So there it is, the thought for today.

Be smart, be fun, keep me on my toes, and I will love you forever. Key to my heart.

Mind you, this isn’t to say I don’t have friends who are just nice friends. I have many, but very few get me to reveal my true self. Even fewer receive my total trust. Some might call these people soul mates…I’m not big on destiny. I just know that there have been times I have made these connections in very unlikely places, with people that, if described to me I’d have likely said “No way…”

Now there’s a lesson I’ve learned…not to judge a book by its cover. I can’t even contemplate the thought that I’d have missed out on one of these extraordinary people because I passed them over for some superficial reason. A meeting of minds is a horrible thing to waste.

Stream

of

Consciousness…

Love. What is it? Does it exist? I’ve often questioned that value of what most people call ‘love’. Romance, that ephemeral sensation; twist in the belly; pleasant frisson of anticipation skittering over the skin; yearning; hoping; smiling; wistful.

And having felt it, repeatedly, I’ve come to a conclusion: It’s crap. Yes, yes, I know, without it no one would ever be attracted to anyone and the perpetuation of the species would cease.

But does it ever last? Ever? I’m talking about the romantic love, here. And the answer is no. That part always dies. IF you are fortunate, or perhaps have chosen well, when the fire has burned out, what rises from the ashes is more solid, stronger, long-lasting than mere attraction.

The truest love is an understanding between individuals. It is unconditional, and underlies even the most trying of circumstances. Love is trust, knowing one can put one’s life in the hands of another without fear. Love is commitment, and adherence to it. Love is the deepest of bonds, the truest of friendships. Love is knowing someone waits with patience. Love is that patience.

Is there no place for romance, for flights of fancy, for the fluttering of tiny wings where normally a heart beats steady? No one would go so far as to say that. After all, romance is some of the most fun to be had out of this human experience.

So what happens when a person has chosen that comfortable love, that true friendship, that dependable commitment, and lives through years of shared experience and children, then gets blind-sided by a new soul-searing connection?

I suppose one looks to one’s personal belief system and ethics to find the answers.

Funny, it seems it happens more often than one might think.

The strange thing is… since when can a person love only one individual in life? That love, described before, can grow from the most unlikely of places. Unconditional and patient, it will exist where it will exist. Why question? It is better simply to cherish. After all, the truest love is still a rare and precious thing, the more rare for those who remain apart from the masses, and give little of themselves.

What is, is. Accept and revel in it. Reap every lesson and sensation from the experience, then suck the marrow from its bones.

And move on when it’s time.

Strange. Does the cutting of one’s hair really make such a great change?

Apparently.

I have bangs for the first time in many years. My hair is still long, but already someone has looked at me and said, “The bangs…they give you more attitude.”

Now what does THAT mean, exactly?

So now will I be perceived differently? It remains to be seen.

Ok, so here’s the thing…

Artsy people are nuts. Does it HAVE to be a prerequisite that artsy people are just downright emotional and hyper-sensitive?

No, I’m not going into it. I’m just too drained. Too many personalities.

I am wilted.

Once more, with feeling…

And yet again…ze fixing of ze settings.