The Award For The Most Analytical Goes To Me.

Thinking, thinking can’t stop thinking. Have to keep thinking. Thinking thinking thinking.

Have you ever seen Finding Nemo? If you have, then the above sentence goes perfectly with the melody to that “Keep on swimming” ditty that Dori sings. If you haven’t seen it then sing the above sentence to yourself in a short repetitive beat that has no breaks, bridges, and no chorus. If you can do that, you’ll get the idea of what my brain has been up to.

My brain is overloaded with all kinds of neat thoughts. Okay, so I lie when I say neat. Neat would be thinking about the Aurora Borealis or the Oregon Vortex.

No they are by no means neat thoughts at all. The thoughts don’t even ponder one topic. Below is an example. Obviously exaggerated for comical purposes.

Do they like me? Am I likeable?
If I’m likable, why won’t they sit next to me?
Do I smell? Do I smell like a toilet?
If I smell like a toilet, does that mean I have an over active pituitary gland?
What is a pituitary gland? I should find out, where’s my dictionary?
My bookshelf is mess, where am I going to put all my books?
Oh look here’s an old journal. When did I write this?
I should put this away. What was the point of digging through my books?
Ah ha! I remember. I’m looking for my dictionary. What did I need that for?
Here it is. Maybe if I thumb through it I’ll remember. Wait, this isn’t a dictionary.
It’s a desk encyclopedia! Oh no! I opened right to the page that talks about hysteria.
Am I hysterical? Is God trying to tell me something? Is this a sign? Ha! Signs I liked that movie.
Isn’t Joaquin Phoenix in that movie? He’s cute. Wasn’t River Phoenix his brother? Didn’t he die in The Viper Room? Isn’t that Johnny Depp’s club? Oh, Johnny Depp is cute. Would he think I’m cute?
Am I cute?
Do guys think I’m cute? If I’m cute, is that the only reason why they like me?

This goes forever until I find something shiny to distract myself with.

I’m not a head case though. I don’t do anything else that suggests I’m paranoid. I don’t sleep with crosses or weapons. I don’t lock myself in my house and hide underneath a table with a baseball bat. Okay, I did do that once. That’s another story and it was a reasonable thing to do.

Once again, this is something that I do that’s not fair to me or others.

People Are Nothing Like New Shirts

But I wish they were.

Yikes! A new person has forced me out of my safety zone. This sucks, and I hate that I feel like it sucks because I should be enjoying it. After all, friends are supposed to be fun and enjoyable.

Unfortunately, over the last year or so I’ve programmed myself to feel the opposite. I’ve somehow convinced myself that new friends don’t last. New friends are tricky and shouldn’t be trusted.

This is not fair to me or anyone who wants to get close to me.

Besides, new things are great! Everybody likes new things. The other day I bought two new shirts. I love them. But, the newness of a new person is just a little too scary for me. I wish getting to know a new friend were as easy as buying a new shirt. You go to the store, you find something you like, you buy it take it home and it’s yours. Until it breaks, goes out of style or you get fat and can’t wear it anymore. Pretty much free of any sort of complication or fear.

I’m sucking the fun out of getting to know someone because I’m insecure. So today I thought about it this way, I don’t look at those new shirts hanging in my closet and think, “Gee, you look a little shifty, how can I be sure you’re going to keep up you’re end of the bargain as my shirt?” Or, “Are you trying to trick me into thinking that you’re going to be a good shirt to me?” or, “In a couple months am I going to look in my closet and find you gone, leaving me feeling hurt and rejected?” No, I look forward to wearing them. I feel that they add something to me. Those new shirts make me feel new.

I should really try and feel that way about people or I’m going to leave them all out and be lonely.