I walk down the street, and play games with myself. I pretend I’m a movie star
, or a librarian
, or anyone else wearing my skin
. Someone who doesn’t have my thoughts
, my fears
, my life
. At those moments, I ask myself, if I had the chance, would give it all up to be someone else if, to be anyone else but me...
I’m growing inward. I’m curling up, and turning my attentions to myself, and find that I have to struggle
with my own emotions to accept the faults of others
. It’s not a feeling of superiority
, or elitism
, I just can’t take it, I can’t take being around people whose shortcomings mirror my own.
It’s like being in a funhouse
where all the mirrors reflect your worst features, bring them out for you to see.
Every coffee shop
, every crowd, every group of friends is a parade of failings
Some people carry a certain magic with them, wherever they go. They’re not necessarily happy, witty, extraordinarily intelligent or passionate people... They’re just people
I don’t know where I was going with this.
It’s not that I want to be one of these people, or even that I’m convinced I’m not... It’s not about me at all, actually. I just wish these people were aware of the impact they have on others, and how valuable
And yes, Geoff
, this does include you. Take a look at yourself
, sometime soon. I get the feeling that you don’t do it often enough.
Sometimes I walk down the street
, and catch a glimpse of myself reflected in a storefront
, and I wonder who that person looking at me is, and if they have any stories to tell