We're All Just Peas In A Pod

It's been a while since I've found some time for myself, after what's been another intriguing ride through active life. Active life. I almost laugh at the idea, not because it isn't active - rather it's the passive that generally means so much more to me. I'm a freak that way, I suppose.

Right now I can't be bothered to consider whether my last statement was a fair one or not.

I turn down the music, dim the lights. The surroundings are so much more comforting now, more in tune with my mood. The mood determines the surroundings...if only that was the case most of the time. We do have control of the environ; but who knows?

The thought takes me back to the scene: it was loud around, it was loud and yet the thoughts and feelings were deathly silent, deathly hidden behind a cloak of laughter, camaraderie and social indulgence. All the while I sit back, my feeling of exclusion from the atmosphere almost palpable. And I observe, yet again. I take my time, moving from face to face, from facade to facade till I look inward. And it strikes me to see how we've all 'progressed'. How the more I know, the more my doubts gain weight. It doesn't make me sick, no, it's nothing as strong as that. Perhaps it's a tad disappointing. But today it doesn't seem to matter so much...how I feel about it.

I see the frowns on the faces, and the facades. And that is what bothers me.

Shockingly, terribly, I choose to separate myself from it all. As if that's the solution to their problems, and mine with theirs. No no, I continue to chide myself through the evening, this isn't the way to go about it. But for once it feels good to sit apart from the mess. It doesn't feel right, but it damn well feels good.

And yet it remains the same. I stare at us ambivalently all the time, for what more can I do? I sift through periods of inclusion, centrality and exclusion, while continuously basking in my torturingly reassuring oddness. Maybe that's how I like it. Maybe.

You'd think I'd know by now. In time.