feeling playful

in the mental sense.

there are times when i forcibly shut out the coaxes of humanity and simply observe everything: the people, the cars, the birds, the sky. and all the motion that envelops them and sends them on their ways. and being silent, intentionally close-mouthed and attentive, purposefully distant: all this makes me smile. it gives me a kind of happiness that faces inward, is crouched and tight, hardly able to contain itself, bubbling and effervescent.

i am happy because, when this particular feeling comes over me, i like to think of myself as separate, as unique. and i do not believe this is solely an effect of my american upbringing. for as american culture is primarily defined by its leaning to reward individuality and self-expression, us humans have not yet evolved out of our propensity towards societal mimicry for the self-defense and safety of our egos. and what is the ego but an advanced extension of survival instinct?

but there are some of us who intentionally distance ourselves, and actually gain pleasure from this remove. those for whom this feeling occupies much of their time will become hermits, outcasts, exiles. i don't believe i have yet reached the point where i will desire to flee to the woods. and the roots of my pleasure are not so simple. i require others to surround me in order to feel its highest order of jubilation. at the risk of sounding like an extraterrestrial, or perhaps simply an anthropologist, i enjoy observing humans just doing what they do, operating in a natural way. i am by no means documenting any of this meticulously; it is a transient pleasure, a fleeting joy that requires no record, to study these behaviors that i may be guilty of performing in a new light, in the light of the observer.

in other news, i currently harbor two distinct and mostly valid worries: one, that i have wasted an entire year, and two, that i may waste still more. but flanking these worries is that force which demands strict definition. what does "waste" mean?

many people i have known have expressed to me their dissatisfaction with their jobs, their relationships, their lives in general. they spend not just one, but often two, three, or more years in regret, in silent suffering, in helplessness. however, they may be making significant career-related progress, or they may buy a house, or they may get married, or they may do any number of things that are on the checklist for "progress in life". i believe that my use of "waste" may well fall under the definition set in this checklist. i suffer because i am careerless. i suffer because i am alone. i suffer because i have no 401k plan. but please. this is not real suffering.

additionally, to lend support to the argument that i am still somehow mentally sound and optimistic despite innumerable odds, i still know how to be happy. some people may never learn this skill, and they will be forever tormented with the question of how to pass the time. i am thankful for this skill, and it shall ultimately lead to my salvation from my present condition. and i may be dramatizing.