Yesterday on a dirty couch, with comfy sweat pants on I received a unsettling revelation. Two friends had come over in the middle of the pouring rain to come and visit our apartment. Being of the career age, conversation was all ho hum: schools and dating (is there anything else we really care about?). Then the talking took a uncomfortable turn: the topic was me.
I like myself. Or at least i think i like myself. Looking in the mirror is always difficult depending on what the mirror is made off. A glass mirror will portray a asian image; a bent mirror will fold me into fat albert. A friend is also a type of mirror, only the picture is more clouded and distorted. I can never be sure if a companion really is telling the truth. One friend, say stacy, hangs around prison inmates and comments : "you are really nice". Compared to a murderer and a serial thief, my drawing hobbies and faithfulness to homework and sure to shine, but if I am put in a dog and pony show compared to some of my peers, the images sours quickly.
This is all a long way to say I am bothered. My friend called me "Scattered". Two paragraphs of preface mock me on my own blog. Am I really that scattered? And how do scattered people bring it together? Or am I humpty dumpty destined to never be put back together again?
No comments:
Post a Comment