You'd think that during a time when Americans can't get enough reality television, you'd see more people visiting my blog. You'd think, but you'd be wrong. I'm lucky if more than 4 different people check up on me a day. Hell, I could've been run over by a car a week ago as far as all my non-visitors know. I guess my life isn't exciting enough. Not prime time MTV reality show exciting anyway. What do I need to do, start sleeping with everyone I live with (just kidding. that's just wrong.)? Would it help if I was schizophrenic and a drug addict, or had multipersonality disorder and beat my girlfriend? Whatever. I just have a hard time accepting other people's inability to accept my narcissistic and exhibitionist tendencies. I'm here for the coddling people. C'mon already, coddle me!
Maybe I'm being a little dramatic for kicks, but I think there's a sober point to be made regarding the lack of familial discussion on my blog. And it follows from the question: Am I the only person in my family who will ever ask sensitive, personal, religious, psychological, or philisophical questions throughout his/her entire life? I'm not saying that anything I've ever said is better than shit on a stick, I'm just saying that life is short, and my family seems to have missed the opportunity to really connect intimately/intellectually to spread a little wisdom and learn from one another. That said, I'm pretty much as bad as everyone else when it comes to communication. I don't keep in touch with family like you'd expect a son or brother would.
What I wan't to draw out is that whereas my family seems-atleast from a distance-content knowing what they know about who they are, why they are who they are, what to do next, how to live their lives, how to relate to others, etc, etc; I readily admit that I don't feel secure in my answers to all of those issue. Also, I often feel enthused about taking those sorts of amateur philosophy questions on. I sometimes feel a mild urgency to cut the the crap, so to speak, and talk honestly. I guess I'm prone to seriousness when it comes to life, and the shortness thereoff. I watched a little Larry King tonight. The topic of discussion was the life of Dayna Reeves (the wife of Christopher Reeves) who died today from lung cancer. They showed a clip of Dayna saying something like, "Look, life isn't fair, and we need to stop expecting that it's going to be". I thought that was great because it was so honest. Life is so unfair (if you choose to think that way), especially when you think of what happens there at the end of it. Its funny, because I believe in a sort of unity of thought and feeling with others in the world, based on the fact that so many of us are born and live under such similar circumstance. For example, if you decide to jump off a bridge, there are going to be many others who decide to do the same based on the exact same feelings and reasons that compelled you to do so. If you don't decide to jump off a bridge, then that same number of people probably won't either. So its no surprise to me that these days I'm hearing sentiments about mortality that sound like echos of my own. For example, the running theme of the latest Death Cab for Cutie album is mortality. There's a song that goes, "Love of mine, someday you will die, but I will be close behind, and follow you into the dark...if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied, and illumintate the 'no's on their vacancy signs, if there's no one beside you when your soul departs, I'll follow you into the dark." The romantic sentiment is stunning, of course, but its the sober acceptance of the unknown-the agnostic sentiment-that I find extraordinarily touching. Anyway, for some strange reason, my sharing of that sentiment is related to my desire to cut the crap and talk about this whole "life" thing a little bit. Is that so wrong?