Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A Beautiful Mess v2.0

Yeah, I have a previous post with the same title. But my life isn't that big of a mess, at least at the moment. This post is as much about me as it is about everyone else.

Today, I realized--cue drumroll--that we are all messed up. Or maybe I've known it for some time, and it just slipped out of my consciousness. I guess there's nothing like periodic insomnia and unfounded, self-destructive hatred to fuel these kinds of thoughts.

Periodic insomnia is self-explanatory. That's me being unable to sleep until the sun is almost up for a week or two--and after that time frame I go back to falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. For now, I have two more hours before I start yawning. Thank goodness my Spanish class isn't until 11:30.

The self-destructing hatred part is what got me thinking about the messes that we all are. See, I'm mad. At my girlfriend's guy friend. It's not like I'm romantically jealous or what--I can safely say I'm past that part--but I've never hated anyone's guts more than I hate his now. And it makes me look and feel foolish every time I let it get to me. Him being around nags at me like a freaking mosquito in my ear. A freaking mosquito I just can't swat.

The there's another messed-up thing about me, how I care about things I really shouldn't care that much about. I mean, it's not that it harms or affects me, but I just wonder why I follow all these blogs. Maybe I'm nosy. Or maybe I just like to read about what people think. It makes me feel a little more human, I guess. I like to read about different thoughts about life. There is more to this "caring too much" business about certain people, but at least I have concrete reasons for that one.

Then there's the rest of the world. Everybody has a weirdness of his or her own. If I have my vocabulary right, I think that's why they invented the term idiosyncrasies. We react differently, given similar situations. So I don't know. I'm no psychology major, but I guess that's just how it goes.

We're all a mess of some sort. Maybe you're moody, or a control freak. Or depressive, perhaps? Maybe you're a workaholic. Maybe you're lonely because you feel you haven't found love yet. You could be an insomniac. The possibilities of personalities are endless.

But as the title goes, there's a lot of beauty in that for me. I guess I'm basically tolerant of most people--I can live with most of the annoying attitudes of people I like and love, or even people I'm just starting to get to know. I can forgive them their weirdness, maybe because I know how much of a mess I am (and I may just be worse). And besides, variety is good. Different is good, because it's refreshing.

I'd rather have a slightly messed-up world than a predictable, perfect one any day.

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