I'm just so damn tired...

When people form opinions based solely on emotion it's called passion, when people base opinions on irrefutable facts it's called logic, and when people base opinions on their emotional attachment to conveying cohesive facts it's called passionate logic. How is it that someone can justify in their own mind and then aloud their emotional attachment to non-existent facts? Bush caused Katrina, 2Pac is alive, Al Gore invented the internet, lose 20 pounds in a day, Lady Gaga is a hermaphrodite, "I did not have sexual relations with that woman", Miley Cyrus can sing, Sarah Palin would've made a great Vice President, gay marriage is wrong, Obama isn't a socialist, etc.


Listen up people, I know you fulfill a need in American society but I certainly don't need to hear you speak of anything that doesn't directly involve what I want from the Chick-fil-a menu (Gawd, I love Chick-fil-a...). Politics are a sham, America is a disgrace and the citizens are cowards. We don't want to fight for our rights in wars, we don't want to pay for the things we buy, we don't want to earn the money we make and we certainly don't want to play fair. Give us a leg up and we'll forget whose hands our feet stood upon as soon as we reach the top. We're more proud of being Celtics fans than we are of being Americans. Nothing comes from the heart because no one seems to have one. It's constantly about us. People actually pay other people to listen to them talk about themselves. There wasn't any TIME for that a hundred years ago. Most people were too busy wondering if they were going to eat dinner. People earned what they had and they died for their freedom. Feeling convicted? Feeling as if you're part of the problem? Feeling victimized?

Because there's a difference, and you should see it

I watch people, and please don’t confuse “people watching” with what I’ve just confessed. I sit, stand, hover, crouch, lie and watch people. What draws my attention to them is unknown to me. It’s clearly some kind of attraction but the formula that connects me is never the same. The only fact that remains constant, is that I’m addicted to watching. I’m consistently evaluating who will ultimately receive my full attention. And please don’t confuse “full attention” with ignoring the people who are engaging me in conversation. I am completely invested in each and every one of you in a group, but am most definitely watching one of you effortlessly. If you aren’t speaking, I’m analyzing each movement you make because I’m fabricating your story. A story that I begin to weave in my head. I ponder what your mannerisms mean. Why do you have a small scar on your cheek? Do you look more like your mother or father? You bounce your leg incessantly which means you have other nervous behaviors. Cracking your knuckles? Playing with your necklace, earrings or the ring on your finger? Tapping on the table? I’ll keep an eye out. What will your order to drink? Will it contain alcohol? Why or why not, and if it does, what attaches you to that drink? Is this the first time you’ve ordered it, your favorite or just a security blanket drink. Why didn’t you order something alcoholic? Are you straight edge, Mormon, a recovering alcoholic out with your friends for the first time trying to show them your sobering progress? How do you know these people and how well do you know each of them individually? Are you wearing a guise right now, and if you are how ensconced in it are you? What types of music do you listen to? And do you use the poetry of the lyrics and enchantment of melody to immerse yourself into your emotions? Are you happy? Do you love yourself? Do you know how to love? Was your childhood pet a parrot, gerbil, cat, dog, horse? Did parents read you bed-time stories? When you revealed to them that you wanted to be a Ninja Turtle when you grew up did they scoff disdainfully and painfully remind you that was, of course, impossible? Or did they gently take your hand and softly kiss the top of your head while encouraging you to be absolutely anything you wanted. Do you sleep well? Reoccurring nightmares? Are you Christian? Do you even believe in a God? What drove you away and why? Have you ever experienced profound loss? More, more, more I need more. Which is why I’m still watching, placing, remembering. I have to know, I have to see and understand so that I will know. I have to see.

I’m enthralled with your complexity. These things, these details, your pieces are important to me because I need to study them. Turn them over and over in my hand til I’ve memorized their jagged shape and soft edges. All these varying sizes and shapes placed together to form what is. It’s important that I know where to place each detail in the disassembled masterpiece that is you. Getting it right the first time means not having to own up to my wild presumptions. I place some recklessly due to impatience and others carefully with truth. It’s in this way that I’m gently, violently, avidly constructing. Desperate to unravel the intricate design, flip the puzzle and finally reveal the picture, thereby destroying the very conundrum that motivated me to
start this, to continue this until...

Eventually I lose interest. It’s inevitability and it’s one of my truths. It may be 3 minutes, 10, a few hours, days, a late night phone chat I’m anxious to disconnect, weeks, years a lifetime. I move on to the next enigma. There’s an undetermined amount of time that will elapse until my eyes and brain have decided that they know you and you’re no longer a mystery to solve. Your habits and stories, their origin is known and there’s nothing left to learn, because I’ve seen you, ya know? You’re a wreck, just as I am. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing you weren’t. Wishing that you were the one human being on this miserable earth who locks eyes with me and convey that you saw me, even briefly, fleetingly. Because you’ve been watching too and you see me.