i've thought about it (as i am wont to do), and i've come to a partial conclusion.
when you strip life of all its mundanity and tedium, you're left with the rarity. what happens when you absolutely can't stand the mundanity is what's happened to me - you're only satisfied with what rarely comes along. you push things, testing everyone with fire, looking only for the ones who can stand it. you almost wish for crisis because crises form bonds. your eyes are open, but staring at the ground, looking up in hope on occasion, then usually falling again soon thereafter.
life means something different to you - life is one big disappointment because nothing is ever good enough. the good which so seldom comes stays even less often. time spent with others must fit certain parameters, or it wasn't worth it. they weren't worth it. small talk exasperates you, to put it lightly. you expect more. you just know that life isn't what it could or should be because you've seen a time or a place when it was better, or at the very least seemed to be better. what do you have to do to get there?
i guess what i'm trying to say, what i'm trying to tell myself more than anyone, is that life isn't what we want it to be. we can't forge our own destiny, for the next area we try to conquer will always be one completely out of our control. life isn't so much what we make it as what we accept from it. many opportunities are presented us; we have but to choose which ones we will embrace and which ones we're too good for.
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a brief and terribly undescriptive return - 10.28.04
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