For example: wanting what you can't have.
It makes me think of what I think is one of the Stones' worst songs: You Can't Always Get What You Want (I prefer Under My Thumb or 2000 Man ... or Wild Horses, especially).
My favorite color is orange, and the reason is completely inane. Does that matter? I guess it probably shouldn't, but it still seems ridiculous.
Tonight, I was talking with two of my fellow classmates and I brought up Jordan (the country) because it's pretty much the only place in the world I've been (besides London and the Frankfurt Airport) and the Bryant Park Bazaar reminded me of a bazaar in Jerash.
But, when one of the guys asked me when I'd last been to Jordan ... I felt a little absurd. It was five years ago this December. Suddenly, I realized the magnitude of how sad it is for me to hold so dear the memory of something that's so far past. It made me wonder if I was standing still, or if at least part of me was.
I'd love to go somewhere else on a trip. When I've got the money, I'm heading to Argentina ... to Buenos Aires. Right now, it's the first place on my list, though I'd like to hit Spain, too. Since I can only speak Spanish, it makes sense to go to a country where it's spoken.
I've learned a bunch of Czech, though. An accomplishment that tastes a little bitter ... Like most things I've learned or accomplished, I've only been driven to do them because of someone else's momentum, or because someone else's interest inspired me. I guess it's better than not being interested at all, but it's a real blow to any concrete sense of identity.
A lot of times, I've said I hate New York, but that's not accurate. I hate that New York doesn't seem like it's the place for me.
In a way, it's like New York is so far beyond me that I can't help but resent it for leaving me in its dust. My mindset is the crux of any problems I have with this place. Well, that and the size of my bank account.
Still, though ... it's been a week of epiphanies. Maybe it's the beard I'm growing. Maybe it's because I cut off all my hair (for the first time in almost 5 years). Maybe it's because I'm trying to not blame everything on somebody else and actually am trying to find real reasons for what goes down. It's been a week of hard truths, but it does me no good to be mired in things that will never benefit me.
I mean, why want what I can't have if what I can't have was never good to me to begin with? I've never done drugs, but I think people are my addiction. I can become addicted to a person in my life and the withdrawal that comes from their absence is crippling. Still, though, nobody forms an addiction to something healthy ... for me to be addicted to someone indicates that person isn't worthwhile. It pains me to admit it, but it's one of those aforesaid hard truths.
How many heroin addicts are being avoided by heroin? I bet it'd be a lot easier to kick it if it stayed away. I guess I should count myself lucky.
It's now December 1st as I conclude this rather heartfelt missive. I hope it proves poignant to somebody.
(As an aside, I was talking on the phone with this girl I knew a long while back ... a fledgling friend; we'd hung out a few times, had some mundane conversations, there really wasn't any spark ... and she was telling me about an epiphany she'd had. Except, she didn't say "ephiphany" she said "I had an epitome." ... I haven't spoken to her since. Not simply because she misused a word, but more because the awkwardness of that exchange proved that talking to each other was more effort that it was worth. She hasn't called me, either.)
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