Some days you have to go looking for the weird in life.
Some days, the weird just finds you.
I seem to find lots of weird. Wierd issues that no one knows who owns it at work. Weird problems. Weird people attracted to me to complicate my life.
Not terribly weird. Somehow I walk a sad line between really anything. Balance, moderation, that has been my goal. Never particularly joyful. Although lately, the pain has been terrible. I suppose it isn’t like the pain some people are forced to endure. I realize that. Soooo, not as terrible as it might be, but certainly not good.
What a mediocre word.
It offers so little, and glosses over so much. It is almost as meaningless as ‘nice’, or ‘ok’. In other, more powerful verbage, my life has not been plagued with a never ending series of drastic disappointments nor tragedies, yet neither has it been filled with joys and exhilarating experiences. It has neither the drama of a drug addicted wife beater, for I left that potential behind years ago, yet neither do I find limelight nor truest love.
A mediocre word for a mediocre life.
I was accepting of that mediocre life. I only wanted the best I could make of life without tearing myself up with unfulfilled desires and their subsequent angst, nor expectations far beyond my actual level to achieve. Yet, if this is the greatest level I will achieve it is not nearly good enough.
I will create no patronus charms from this life.
Weird people are generally very damaged people. Yet I do not seek out the truly unusual for I do not know how to treat them as ‘just people’, and I would disappoint myself every time I failed to be open minded. I know that I have limitations in my open hearted acceptance of other people. I avoid them not from fear of them, but from fear that I cannot be kind and authentic around them, and I know it. We are damaged apes, horribly brain twisted as all animal brains become twisted due to stress telling them ‘this is not a life for you, move on, make room for better adapted of your kind,’ but none of us are well adapted to anything but the destruction we bring upon each other and inherit down the lines…….
Men kill their wives every day. Even men who wouldn’t kill their dog will become twisted enough to kill their wives. Or a neighbor’s child. Or a weak and lonely person. Like we might kill an annoying fly. We look at each other and see only threats, or resources, or objects of desire. We, as a general species rule, do not think, nor worry, nor especially care that other beings have feelings, and fears, and loves, and wants, and a life of their own.