“The freedom of solitude without the loneliness.” I’m pretty sure that’s from 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez. Perhaps I’ve been disillusioned into liking this girl because I haven’t thought about what kind of person I want to live the rest of my life with. 8ut her… Is she or is she not someone that I’d mind spending my life with. I really think I’ve gotta put more thought into this.
I actually thought up that quote because my grandparents have been bothering me lately. (And for anyone paying attention: no, my keyboard isn’t fixed. I copy/paste my lowercase b now.) I wondered if I traded my freedom for a little less loneliness, but I don’t think that’s the case with them. I’ve lost both, because they’re always around, and I’m still lonely because it’s not like they’re trying to get to know me. They love me because it’s right and proper, and probably a fun way to waste time. 8ut they don’t really know me, so it’s not like they love me along with my shortcomings as a human being. I hear talk that love is when they love what’s wrong with you as well. I don’t think that’s how they see things though. I think they see things as a push and a pull. My shortcomings push them away while my status as their only grandson pulls them closer. I’m not comfortable with this.
8ut enough of that downer-talk. I’m here to talk about love and romance and all kinds of air-y things. Did y’all know that I was due on Valentine’s Day but I was late a few days instead? Apparently, they were planning to call me Valentino. Probably a joke, ‘cuz they could’ve named me that anyway if they really wanted to. 8ut it has a little credence to it. The name that my parents decided on is incredibly bland, though a little unique. They say they didn’t want me to have a hard time spelling my name as a child. Typical industrialist mentality, to think that I’d be happy as long as my life is easy. Well, at least I’m alive.
I might as well just talk about my kind of girl later. This post has turned into a ramble about things that make me dislike my family, or people in general, actually. And actually, that’s relevant to this specific situation, with this specific love interest. She’s quite the average person, and by average, I mean that she seems to believe that an easy life will be all that she needs to be happy. Of course, I know a lot of people who say this but still reach for things aside from money and material luxuries. 8ut still, no one thinks I’m sane when I say that I’d appreciate being a farmer, living off the land and my own hard work. “8reaking your back everyday isn’t fun,” they say. Well, I don’t think watching bad movies all day is fun. (Thought relaxation ain’t evil. Another thing I don’t like: whenever I paint myself a darker shade of grey than some people, they accuse me of inconsistency. “You must be wrong because you don’t go all the way, either way.” Hesu Cristo. The Red River’s flowing.)
Perhaps she’s tricked me with her youthful spirit but seemingly experienced demeanor. Maybe she doesn’t explain things because she takes her experiences for granted, sees them as unmistakable, and undecipherable by our young minds. And whenever I disagree with her, or she disagrees with me, sometimes, there’s not much conversation to be had. No animosity, (though maybe I’d appreciate some animal-like behavior from her) but still. Such conversations end thusly: “Thou hast not lived as fully as I perceive myself to have lived, therefore you must be wrong. SIlly, foolish child, you have much to learn.” Maybe she’s as wrong as everyone else, except pretty and friendly and not too pushy. At the very least, I can appreciate her for those things.
I walk the path that I do because I believe it’s the way to happiness, or at least a good distraction until I die. So perhaps I wouldn’t appreciate a person exactly like me, who thinks exactly the way I do. I’d have no way to contribute to their life, and therefore, not too much reason to spend time with them.
This brain-dead-ness is getting me nowhere, though. I’m gonna rest up and see if I’ve got anything more intelligent to say once I’ve rested my mind. G’night.