I Guess You Never Know

I’m about to write my very first private entry.

It’s for no one.  Nobody but me.  I hear people do this all the time and I’ve never understood the point.  What’s the point of secrets and what’s the point of keeping things from one another.  But right now, there are about a thousand reasons nobody should read what I’m going to write in that entry.  Maybe it will be something liberating to do, but I doubt it.  I think I’ll find myself sad that it’s private, sad that secrets seem necessary, sad that this is the way it all has to be.  But, such is life and one never knows what’s going to happen.

But, at this moment, I need it.

Here’s something for the public few who read this though. 

I play World of Warcraft.  I play it frequently.  I play it because, for some reason, I’ve generally found the greatest amount of creative stimulus while playing video games.  Even when I was a kid.  My mind has this nature of going off on completely unassociated tangents that for some reason are best inspired while playing video games.  Sometimes they’re associated.  Running through the country of Westfall in World of Warcraft gave me the backdrop for a very good piece of work I’m working on right now.  It has nothing to do with fantasy.  It only has to do with a setting of a remote house a bit outside of a small town.  A rural area.  And two drifters who come in looking for something or someone to con/swindle and ending up with far more than they bargained for. 

I don’t know why this is the correlation, but it is there.  I have recognized it time and again.  And, besides this reasoning, I like playing World of Warcraft.  It entertains me.  I can give you other reasons, but every reason I could give you is BS to someone or another.  In the end, I like it.  I am pretty involved in the game too.  Once you reach level 70 you have a choice of just stopping, starting a new character, or trying to do things which cause gathering a bunch of players together and attempting things that are quite tricky at times.  It can be frustrating.  I let it get the best of me sometimes.  Nobody who doesn’t do it seems to get it, most people who do do it get frustrated too to one degree or another.  It takes me a night of sleeping it off.  Sometimes it takes that and talking to Marie or Monte about it and laughing at the craziness of what happened. 

There are many things I don’t like to do that I do.  I don’t like getting up so early for work, but I do it because it’s a necessary evil to getting home at a good time.  I don’t like running the house, but it’s something I do because it offers other benefits.  I try to satisfy my roommates and their desires, crazy or demanding though they may be at times.  They upset me when they bring loud, drunk friends home at all hours of the night or let a bunch of people crash at the house.  That really bothers me.  They leave the place a mess, too.  But all these things I get over.  All of them are silly little inconveniences that go along with the good that things allow. 

I saw "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" this weekend, and what I liked most is that nobody in that movie is perfect.  Everybody has their good points and their bad and some of them get a rawer deal than they should, but that’s life I suppose.  But the movie made me think a lot about the nature of people and how completely ridiculous they are.  I also found myself being the cynic and scoffing at the way events turned out.  Thinking…nobody does that much for another person…generally.  You see, a lot of movies end with great change occurring in characters.  Sometimes that change is believable.  It is the change of someone who has been thrust into a new world and must change to survive.  And other times it’s a character changing for the sake of someone else.  And i don’t tend to believe the latter truly happens.  Sometimes people say they do, and I bet sometimes people actually do change small things, but I don’t think that most people sacrifice very much for each other. 

I used to think I was capable of doing that.  Of sacrificing a lot.  But I think I was very much wrong in that.  I don’t know if it was beat out of me when I was younger, doing a lot of things for other people that I shouldn’t have….well…I remember being that kid.  Hell, Bekah and Nikki freshmen year of Forensics….two people I don’t even know where they are anymore….they sat me down at dinner and they tried to inform me that living to please others, or trying to please them was a waste of time.  That it just meant the person was not bright enough to know how to please themselves.  I don’t quite believe in the harshness of that statement….but I believe that it’s somewhat true to a lesser extent. 

I read this all over and watch as I dance around one another’s feelings.  Trying to get out some valid points to make myself feel better while keeping everyone else happy, or if not happy, at least not affronted.  The bad side of me just wants to say a lot of nasty things to a myriad of different people, some of them who would never expect it…and no Marie, you’re not one of em, cuz you expect this to happen for some reason…it’s so sweetly, oddly, silly that it makes me smile.  I know that seems a strange reaction, but I look at it this way:

You are so good, and so kind, and try so hard to be good to people, and have so much shit happen to you, and yet you worry and apologize to other people for things you haven’t even done when they have yet to apologize to you for crap they did.  You’re such a good person that it really does make me happy to know you.  I can always take comfort in the fact I know Marie.  Which is silly, too, since it’s no accomplishment of me, just a random act of fate.  You know….I don’t want to write a private entry now.  My dark side can suck it.  I can deal with this.