Deep Intrigues of the Night

My mind has been feeling very philosophical lately.

Everything has a meaning. Everything has a lesson. Everything is trying to teach me something deeper.

My frustration at my friends has taught me apathy. I mean, I've always excelled at being apathetic, but this has given me a real reason. Why should I allow people who obviously don't care to affect me so much?

I shouldn't.

Those people who do care will talk to me, will hang out with me, will make plans with me and maintain a relationship with me without me having to break my back in the efforts to keep it together.

So I shouldn't give a single shit about the people who don't.

Well, glad that's settled.

Easier said that done, I'm finding, but I feel like the repetition of the same situations is life's way of telling me that with a little practice, I can master the art of selective friendships and no longer let the ones that deserve my apathy instead derive my tears of anguish.

Talking to other people about their problems had made me realize that I'm not very good at consoling people.

I can listen to your problems. I can tell you the reality of the situation, and the reality of the possible outcomes. I'm good at that.

I'm just not very good at 'looking on the bright side' or 'putting an optimistic spin on things'. I know that now.

I suppose in a way, I always knew that. I'm never all that optimistic with myself, because I prefer to think of my situation in the most realistic an air as possible, so that I know the real life consequences of my actions, instead of the 'best possible scenario'. Now I know that applies to other people, too.

But I also know that I like listening. Even if I don't offer much advice, and all I can say is "well dude that sucks, but let me tell you how bad it actually is versus how bad you think it is," I'm still there for people whenever they need me.

I've made pretty damn good progress on the acoustic since I started on Monday.

I always think that there are some people who can achieve great things in short periods of time, but for most people it's impossible.

Even though I haven't had near as much time as I wanted to work on it, I've learned a lot about guitar in the few days and the little amounts of time that I've spent with it. And I feel like all it takes is dedication, and I can do anything.

Which motivates me. If I can do anything, then I should set some damn goals.

Goal #1: Learn Italian by the end of summer. See it on my summer checklist? Wait for August when I can check that puppy off.

Goal #2: Learn acoustic enough to be able to play Paper Aeroplane by KT Tunstall by the end of summer.

Welp, this summer looks like it might be a tad busy.

But I think that I can do it.

I feel like this post got a little ramble-y, and I don't particularly feel like reading over it for continuity like I usually do, so... I'll just say this.

Everything happens for a reason. I don't know that I believe in fate, or pre-planned destinies, or gods. But I do know that every instance in life can teach you something if you just look for it.

And when you look for it, you can learn a damn lot.

Vacation From What, Exactly

I've never been too big of a believer in the golden rule.

I mean, treat others as you want to be treated? But what if the others are big, fat idiots?

Yeah, I'm too brash for that.

But to an extent, I do understand it. On a basic level of respect, I understand it. Not for everybody, mind you, but for some people. If I like somebody, or consider them my friend, then unless they do something to merit disrespect, they deserve golden treatment.

Because to me, respect shows that you care. If you consider somebody your friend, you will respect them enough to tell them the truth, or stick to plans, or not disappoint them.

One would think.

However, that has not been my experience. At all.

I know that I stick to plans more than most people. I know that I don't tell just anybody "sure, let's hang out" like most people do. I only tell the people that I actually care to hang out with. The others get rejected. Tastefully, of course.

What with it being summer, I feel like I should see people more. Do more stuff with them. Talk to them. Whatever.

So instead of my typical "meh" attitude, where my rationale consists of the satisfaction that I see people at school and the lack of necessity to see them elsewhere, I've actually been trying to do things with people.

And getting blown off.

Every time.

Now, it's not exactly a new sensation to me. The people that I befriend apparently don't hold the same moral values of respect that I do, and the past three or so summers I'm pretty sure I've gone the whole time without seeing my school friends once.

So you would think that the fact that it still happens wouldn't daze me at all.

But it does.

I feel like if I plan something with somebody, even if I'm not too invested in it, it's my obligation to go through with it. And I've discovered over and over again that even the things which don't sound fun on paper usually end up being twice as entertaining or fulfilling as originally forecast.

Yet time and time again I see that other people don't feel the same sense of obligation, and time and time again I'm disappointed.

Despite my efforts, I see that this summer will be just like all of the others.

Shattered plans and a proliferation of disappointments.

Never Growing Up

We had an interesting lunch hour today. It seems that word is able to describe most of the lunch hours that involve me and my neighbors.

In short, we spent the whole time laughing at poop jokes and pushing each other into various forms of oncoming traffic. It was good.

And when I think about the lunches we've spent together, two words come to mind. The first word is fun. Rightly so. We do have quite a bit of fun.

The second word is childish.

I know that's what comes to other peoples' minds, surely. Just seeing the looks that we get while walking in from the parking lot, I would say that childish is definitely the word that others might use to describe us.

But isn't immaturity, in a sense, what makes fun? Some people have fun making your mom jokes and turning Disney song lyrics into sexual humor (yes, I am guilty as charged). So for them, immaturity is fun.

Acting childishly is what could be considered immature as well. And I for one can almost never think of a time where I was being immature with my friends and did not get a good, fun memory out of the deal.

So why is it that being immature is so much more fun than just doing normal fun things? There are plenty of games you could play or things you could do, like see a comedy show, that would be fun, but not immature.

Although, now that I've said that, I'm thinking back, and it seems that there was a component of childish behavior laced into all of the fun that I've had.

My thought on that is this: Children are capable of having the most pure, innocent, unbridled fun of any age group.

They have so much fun because they're not worried about what other people might think of them, or the way that it may be considered socially acceptable for them to behave. They just do whatever feels right at the moment and go with it.

The people who can laugh at anything, whether it's appropriate or not, and do the weird little jig that pops into their head during a moment of awkward silence because they just felt that it would be a nice time to do it are truly the most gifted of us all. They're not gifted with brains or skill, necessarily, but they're gifted with silly. Somebody who can laugh anything off and make a joke out of socially crippling situations deserves some applause, in my opinion.

So where other teenagers might want to have more "adult" fun by going out on a Friday night and playing beer pong until they can't see straight, I want to have the most childish fun that I can have until the day I can no longer laugh.

Because that pure joy that comes from the most honest and natural form of humor that is not synthesized by words or controlled by the world that we live in. It comes from the little kid that lives in our hearts, and when we make him happy he skips around and throws confetti into our blood and pumps goofy through our bodies. No matter how old I get, I want that little kid to keep frolicking around.

That being said,

Go poop on cheese and put it on a cracker.