Xanga Post Wednesday August 31, 2005

Okay, so, yesterday I made a remark about you not knowing me if you don't know why I was linking to that picture (if you must know, it's because I have a celebrity crush on Diane Lane that goes all the way back to when she played Lori from Lonesome Dove in the miniseires in 1988), and like so often happens with me, a flippant comment has turned into something more.  I finished Folly and Glory at 1:30 this morning (I kinda get into books) and was in a rather melancholy mood, as reading McMurtry is bound to do sometimes.  I had turned off my bed-side lamp but was unable to sleep.  I was lying there in the complete darkness thinking just about things (job, life calling, old loves, if I had time to get coffee on the way to work in the morning, short film ideas, how I wish I could win the Pulitzer) and had the realization that there are all these thoughts I have (that you probably have as well) that no one will ever know about.  Thoughts that somehow speak to the very core of who you are.  Thoughts that mean something.  That you wrestle with.  That can be life altering.  Here I am having some such thoughts lying next to my wife and she might not ever even know about them.  So, this morning as I'm getting ready for work, (she's off again because the Highlands doesn't have power) I mention this to her.  She says that she can't relate because she just tells me whatever she's thinking.  Maybe I should be more like that.  Every year I have a handfull of people that life circumstances I have caused me to be around more than normal.  They always, always inevitably remark about how glad they are that they finally got to know me because, although we've known each other for some time, they don't feel like they ever really knew me.  Perhaps because I am or at least can be quiet, reserved and guarded.  So, to help, I have decided to make random confessions of random thoughts I think about, particularly when I am in a melancholy mood, which is often.

Thought:  Life will go on without me.  Whether at work or in existence in general (contrary to what Liza might feel) I am not essential in any way.  I can be replaced.  But I'm always fighting that, trying to make myself essential while continually realizing how unessential I am (we all are).  What does that do for my self-esteem?

In other news, this book club thing might happen.  Continue to let me know your level of interest and look for further updates.

xangaChris Kinsley