Montecristo Captain Quixote

montecristo

The World Line of the Horizon Star

Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world


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The Hanged Man Captain Caesura
montecristo

Fool man, what in the world is it that you want? Here we go round the prickly pear.

Yesterday, I went to Crystal's housewarming party. For awhile I thought that I didn't want to go. I'm not much of a party person. Fortunately, I didn't listen to that voice and I went. It was fun — an entertaining diversion. She and her other half had some good eats and interesting people there. I'm glad it wasn't a rowdy party, of course that's not really Crystal's style, which is good. Shannon had her friends there and Jackie had her posse as well. Funny, as welcome as I felt, I still felt like something of a fifth wheel.

I'm feeling that pull, again. I feel silly for feeling that pull. It's been windy and very rainy here today. I couldn't do any yard work. I talked to Mom earlier. She seems to be doing well. They're doing physical therapy with her every day at that convalescent center where she is. I've been sitting around surfing the internet, playing WarCrack, doing my laundry, and listening to the weather going on outside. I have things to do. I have all sorts of things to do, both purposeful and entertaining. It's not like I'm bored or in need of something to do. I was at a party yesterday from six thirty in the evening to two in the morning. Surely, I've gotten my quota of socialization in, I would think. Today though, there's that disturbing, silly, pull.

Why does it matter? Why does it not matter, most of the time? Why does it seem that it matters only enough to bother me but not enough to change my life? Why should I find myself wanting, for a couple of days at a time, what I can take or leave any other day? I just want something better, something different, and the desire pulls at me acutely sometimes, and I don't know why. I could be just fine if it never bothered me at all. I would probably be driven to change things and do something different, if it bothered me more often than it does. Why doesn't it bother me every day that there is no one in this house but me, that no one waits for me, "shares the same space for a minute or two," to quote David Byrne? It doesn't. It bothers me often enough to annoy me or trouble me or something...and tomorrow morning it will probably be gone, again, sleeping. Is it all just passing moods? I am reminded of the Bread lyric: "Used to be my life was just emotions, passing by, feeling all the while and never really knowing why." I've chased self-knowledge ever since I was old enough to know that is what I was doing. Sometimes I wonder what any insights I've picked up are really worth.

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Those insights are worth more than you know, and I thank you for posting them. Introspection and self-knowledge are often wonderful things, but sometimes we need a break from all the psychoanalysis. =P

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