i love my life. really, i do. it needs to be lived, if for nothing more than to be expounded upon here and at parties to provide comic relief to others. sometimes, though, it really sucks being the one who has to live it.

lucy and i were talking tonight. i asked her when i was ever going to start being normal, to which she replied: “as soon as you stop listening to yourself, serena”. priceless, but true. another gem from that conversation ran something along the lines of: “serena, you are the most indecisive decisive person i know”.

sometimes i think that events in my life are more or less part of a lifelong pattern in which thinking and doing either run parallel or perpendicular to one another. i think, i reach a conclusion, i base a decision upon my conclusion and then i realize that acting upon my decision is something else entirely.

often enough in my life i have done things i had decided not to do. some inner unknown force propels me. this force dials the number of the boy who i’ve resolved to forget. it makes the snide comment to my teacher that costs me my grade. it keeps on eating long after i’ve decided that i was full, and then stops just as i’ve determined i’ve room left for dessert.

i don’t mean to say that thinking, coming to conclusions and then making decisions — are all irrelevant in regards to my actions; merely that actions do not simply follow what has already been thought through and decided. actions have their own motivations, and they are my actions, and stand quite independently from my thoughts, which are my thoughts, and my decisions, which are my decisions.

i dislike this fact about myself. it is as if, there is some large irrationality within me that controls my actions, even when my thoughts and conclusions follow a logical path. tonight, for example – i made a comment online to an acquaintance that was designed to mislead them. for some reason, i had an irrational fear that this person thought i was distinctly uncool and as such, missrepresented a scenario in my life so as to make them think i was much more hip and cutting edge than i really am. i had resolved, earlier on, that there was, in fact, no reason for me to be intimidated by this person, for by any measure i was already far less uncouth and inexperienced than they were. yet, even after all my machinations, i somehow found myself experiencing the phenomena known only as word vomit (typing vomit? aim vomit?) — out of my mouth spilled a inappropriate comment. the acquaintance ended up terminating the conversation immediately.

why did i do that? i knew that was the result my comment would produce? the rational half of my brain calmly explained to me that the acquaintance did not think i was uncool, had no justification to think he was cooler than me, and that i had no reason to be defensive of my “life”. yet, in the moment of crisis, my irrational side took over, and disregarded all that my careful theorizing had provided.

why can’t i just listen to myself once in awhile?


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