Suzi (k00kaburra) wrote,

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Friends. Myself. What do I live for? Chocolate

"What do you live for?" my brother asked me this morning.
"Huh?" Philosophical I'm not at seven fifty-three in the morning.
"What do you live for?" he repeated.
"Personal glory. Me and the worship thereof."
"Man, you're going to have a sad life."
"How so? What do you for?"
"My friends."
Then he left and went to meet several of his friends in Drama at a coffee shop, and I went back to sleep.
When I awoke again several hours, though, I had to think about what he said a bit. What's a sad life? One that lacks joy. He derives his joy from other people. To me, that seems weak. People leave you. They'll not be with you forever. You are destined to eventual sorrow because you depend on others to give you happiness. But I don't need other people to be close to me like that. I'm happy with just myself. As long as I can write and draw and spin myself dream world, I wonder if I really need other people to interact with. I mean, I always thought that Aunt Margaret and Aunt Ethel were essential for my bubble. But they both died, almost a year ago now, and without them I'm still happy. Davy was next door and now he's up in the city and I can't see him everyday but I'm still me and I'm still happy. I've lost a friendship with Laura over a misunderstanding that I can't even remember, but I'm still happy. People leave you. But they're not essential for happiness.
If you live for your friends, what do you do when they leave you? I guess you have to make new ones, right?
That's another thing I've been wondering about lately. How do you know when you're friends instead of acquaintances? When does it progress to that next level? Does it have to be on both sides? For example, Cathy is a pretty awesome person. Amongst other things, she's smarter than me. I consider her a friend. But does she consider me a friend? We don't hang out and don't talk much outside of class, really. So am I only an acquaintance? On the flip side, there are people who I know think I'm their friend, but I really only consider them an acquaintance; sometimes they're an acquaintance I don't even care much for. Does it make me a terrible person that I don't want to be their friend? I try to like them, but they're annoying for cryin' out loud. I would not cry if I never saw them again, and here they think we're amigos, man! (For the record, Mia, I'm not talking about you. Regardless of how distant I was last time I saw you.) It bugs me.
I don't have a lot of friends. Does that make me less of a person? But since I'm only caring about myself anyway and living my sad little life, does it matter?
That's the last time I let my brother wake me up early in the morning to ask a question requiring thought. G'night.
Totally unrelated, but do you ever feel tempted to write to an advice columnist with a totally trumped up letter to see if you'll get published. I want to write to Ann Landers and ask her what I should do if my boyfriend's ex-lover, who happens to be male, is now my boss at the local porn shop I work in. Throw in a mother-in-law, and possibly a suicide. I'm going to cook up a really juicy soap-opera story and send it in and see what happens. I'll keep ya posted.

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