There are so many strange things about a person’s mind. Mine for example, works at extreme speeds for clearly the wrong reasons. If I get bored, it depresses me. If I get depressed, I assume that I’m not depressed, but I’m trying to tell myself I’m depressed to make the situation better. Once I’ve thought of this, I realize that I’ve just had an extensive debate over myself on whether or not I’m depressed, and I come to the conclusion that I might be going slightly insane. This, of course, frightens me to no end, because nobody likes to feel like their own mind is telling them that they are in a state of delusion. (At least I’m aware of it?) And then I end up thinking that I’m quite the idiot to think that I deserve to label myself with self-diagnosed mental deficiencies and I end up choosing a movie at random from our cabinet. Today, it was Eddie Murphy’s Daddy Day Care, which, last time I saw it, I was eighth.
Anyway, as I was watching this movie, to try to really get my distracted, I remembered how much I missed the blogging community. I also remembered that it has changed. That things are terribly depressing (or, well, not as much, as we’ve all come to realize I throw this word out a lot. Huh—I should add that to my ‘About Me’). But then, during the scene where Eddie Murphy’s character is reading “Green Eggs & Ham” to the kids, I had an epiphany:
Why is it that I give so much attention and thought to what the outcome of my personal choices will be? I shouldn’t. I won’t.
I don’t know—but hey! Look at all the oranges we bought! I’ve eaten twelve already! And that drawing on my window—that’s from last year, so I could always remember the horrid day I got braces.
Goshdarnit, it’s EXACTLY twelve a.m., and I wanted to post this before 11:59.