So how have you been?


This is awkward, I suppose.

It's been a while.

I've been well.

I can't really say much; I haven't been doing anything spectacular recently. I've been spending time with family. Playing Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes. Exercising. Working lots, as usual. I guess you could say I have my shit together, what with my consistent gym routine, steady income, and good relationship with my partner.

I've been spending a lot of time getting re-acquainted with myself. Letting myself draw freely without the influence of styles from artists I admire, and resigning to never really finding a general genre of music I like to listen to but rather just letting myself decide if it speaks to me or not. I'm close to making peace with my looks, and the fact that I am not photogenic, nor will I have perfect skin or suit the boxy, layered, androgynous style of clothing that I envy the Scandinavian fashion blogger for. I am neither tall, nor thin, but hell am I cute.

I think about friendship a lot. About the friends who still come to me when they know my heart is full, because they are the best kind of friends who know they've a place in that fullness. About the friends who still come to me also when they know my heart is empty, because they are the best kind of friends who know they are enough to fill it. I think about distance, and that the fulfillment of that distance is not through oceans, but through messages you and I have yet to reply to, and time stamps, and scrolling past 140 characters (only 20 of them you actually read). I think about loneliness a lot.

I worry about insignificance in the eyes of the greater good, and I worry that I am okay with it. I worry that I am too much a selfish individual concerned only with making myself happy, and yet hypocritically, I worry about the lack of togetherness in human beings. And while I worry about all these things, I especially worry that togetherness, and the greater good do not matter. We are all selfish, and the act of doing good is merely an act of pleasure on our part. We do good because we feel good, and we convince ourselves that we are self-less. To make an appropriate pun on John Stuart Mill here, the greater good is merely a mill of good deeds, where we put in humanity's worst to turn it into humanity's best, for our sake, and our sake alone.

I worry that I get too much enjoyment out of making human beings sound like total assholes. None of us have the right to be self-righteous, including me. My ego is large, and I think I need to tell myself to pull back. I am, after all, human.

I read and write sad stories because I'm afraid of being too positive. It keeps me grounded. I tell myself it's to train my ability to recognize, and avoid cynicism. I do it because sunshine burns if you stay outside for too long.

I think about ambition, or rather, my lack of. I am pressured to yearn for more than what I have currently attained, and that contentment is merely a temporary rung in the ladder of the ever-achieving young person living in the age where we are moving so fast, cultures are defined by trends rather than years of tradition, struggle, and manifestation of a collective people's victories. I am pressured to strive for better things as an individual, and yet the "better things" I should be striving for are a blanket of generalities -more money, more fame, more assets, more, more, more. I am only five feet tall. I am afraid if I had more, I would become less.

But this isn't about me, I think. This is just an offering of myself to pay for entry into your life, a breakdown of my insecurities for your confidence. My vulnerability for your openness. My re-acquaintance with myself, for a re-introduction of you.

So how have you been?


You Might Also Like