My Resignation, The Concept of "Mattering"
by disillusioned
(Deep Thoughts, 1377 views) - 10/21/03
(recorded 10/21/03 @ 12:32:43 AM)
I've been frustrated internally recently, and it's always those cute, little things that bother me to no end and tend to eat their way through my poor consciousness, usually just as I'm about to go to bed... It's hard when you have to lie there and wonder why certain things are so royally screwed up, what's going to come from them, and why it's all happening like it is...
Then it becomes time to listen to Incubus' Just A Phase. Because anything worth mattering- anything worth it- anything that has any true substance, or that truly belongs in your life- those things will work themselves out. Miraculously, it may seem. Sometimes, it's the things you have to work the very hardest for; the ones that almost don't seem as if it makes sense to do anything for... other times, it's the things that just fall into place, so naturally you could swear it was made to be this way. And you know it's right if you have a hard time distinguishing between which is the better experience.
Sometimes, I wish I had just a bit more control over certain elements in my life. The scenery might be different, and the actors, (or actresses) my choosing. Sometimes I can't help but wonder why things aren't the way they were. Where we'd sit together and laugh and talk to each other, and *enjoy* it. Like, really enjoy it.

Think back to those halcyon days of your youth. I played with those wooden trains, in my basement. I played with the cool Ghostbuster capturing thingy- the one you had to stomp on. I used to love four-cheese pizza. I used to smile, and mean it.

Think back to a year ago- or was it three? When the simple act of talking was enough. What is it that changes, that undergoes this bizarre metastasis, that forces those simple pleasures- the ones that have no place abandoning us- out of our lives? Or, at the very least, out of our reach.

What's meant by these changes? Relationships we once thought were pillars of our lives, experiences we once took such joy from, crumble down and become worthless- if not to us, then to the requisite counter-parties (once) involved. Why can't the beauty that we once found in these things show itself as it used to? Has anything *really* changed?

If it matters enough, that should be all that matters, right? I just wrote a journal entry entitled "So much for mattering"... At what point do we resign ourselves to the truth that we don't make the difference we thought we did? Should the answer to that question be "never", an answer I could only hope is true? Or is it the more disparaged truth: "now is that point"?

"Don't know who I'm kidding, imagining you care", right? I wish my imagination, in that respect, was more properly grounded in reality- that there was more evidence to support the alternative. That I didn't have to resign myself. "You don't... you don't... you don't see me, at all..."
Because it hurts to even consider that. And yet, maybe I have to.

You tell me.
Previous musing: "Three Claps"
Back to disillusioned's Notebook :: Back to the Musings
Notes:
wow, not a good thought process my friend, I think we've been delving way [i]too[/i] deep into things and i hope all of these extremely negative outlooks coming out aren't all that's left of our lives. It is just a phase but it's a tricky one to see beyond. The horizon is out there, you can see the point at which it breaks yet it's slightly out of reach, for now. Eventually "this too shall pass". Good luck mi compadre. Vaya con dios.
~Cut and print~

   [noprotein (J :: M) 10/21/03 10:43 AM]



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