I don’t mean to sound sour or anything; they might be right for all I know. I’m planning to post more in the future, but for the time being I have my hands pretty god damn full with other things.
I don’t mean to sound sour or anything; they might be right for all I know. I’m planning to post more in the future, but for the time being I have my hands pretty god damn full with other things.
Relationships. How much should you really invest in them? Are all of them worth it?
No, I’m not getting divorced or anything, but there are some burning bridges behind me. I’ve lived a mostly sheltered life free of conflict, but there’s been a few incidents and confrontations over the years that really, really put me off people and much of their bullshit in general . . . No, I’m not trying to do the cool introvert-y thing where I ‘hate’ people because I’m so much better than them. I just genuinely can’t seem to invest in people I don’t care about. Subsequently, the list of people I care about is short and growing shorter.
To a degree, people! Do a degree!
Everyone has experience in some way, shape or form; it’s what life is comprised of. Mostly, these will not the same experiences as yours – even far from it, sometimes – but that doesn’t negate the whole thing. If people were to only give advice if they’d had a 99% similar experience – not to mention with the same approximate impact – no one would ever give advice.
I’m actually a perpetrator myself this time, so I suppose that for me this sounds a little bit like a perfect world scenario. I often find myself struggling to take advice from others. Not so much because their experiences don’t match mine, but because I’d rather work through shit my own way. I understand that most advice comes from a well-meaning standpoint, but getting advice when you haven’t asked for it?
We all know the old adage, and like many, I’ve grown sick and tired of having conversations where people just talk to hear their own voice. Couldn’t we rather enjoy the silence for once, huh? On certain days, this gets so bad that I just decide to keep my mouth shut. And people don’t really seem to notice it, because they’re all busy talking about their own things. But then suddenly someone sees me, and feel the need to tell me that I’ve been quiet lately. ‘Well, you know what? It sounds like you people pretty much got this covered. I’ll be over here with my thoughts . . . they ones you just interrupted to tell me that I’m being quiet.’ I’ll admit once again that I’m being bit of a negative Nelly here. People talk to one another (or past one another); it’s how we pass the time. If the conversations are boring, I can either try to contribute or I can leave. Sometimes, I kinda feel like the angsty teenager that wants to get invited to the party just so he can decline the invitation. But there is more to this. I can endure boring small-talk as well as the next person, but when people make the conversation about me when I’m not participating, I get pissy! And you wouldn’t find me nearly as complacent and non-threatening when I’m pissy! (Working on a punchline for a superhero . . . how’s that one?) I’ll try to explain:
Growing old is mandatory. (Is there a second part to this?)
Yes and no.