My Own Life

I haven't been doing a lot lately. Including making money. I called my mom for sympathy and she had none to give. I almost hung up on her. I took a nap today because I was sleepy and had nothing else to do. I kept having a dream about fun Uncle Win and crazy Aunt Jules and histrionic Grandma Lena and a million other relatives I don't actually have. And of course, I wonder how many people I am hurting by my selfish decisions. And I also remember what I want at some point even if I don't want it now.

It's strange to think how normal my family actually is, even though I have nothing in common with any of them. I feel like I'm more fucked up than I was before, but I don't really have an excuse to be. I have everything I need (more or less) and I do things that ensure that I will still have a future tomorrow; the same as I do today. Is that selfish? Some people say no. Others would say yes. I believe what my heart and my true love say. Maybe because that's what I want to believe. Because I don't want to believe that I really am as selfish as I'm afraid I am.

But I keep thinking of these dreams I have and they are so strange and I really like them. I want a goofy family to counterbalance my oh-so-normal but annoyingly disconnected family. At least a goofy family is always on. Always doing stuff. Not disconnected and dead like my family. Is it bad to want to be a part of all the drama? Could I even handle it?

Actually, I'm talking crazy talk. Being alone is my MO. There really is nothing else. It's the way things are and there is nothing that is ever going to change that. My loneliness fosters these crazy dreams of actually belonging in something and being a part of something. I am insane. No one else thinks about these things. Is my life really my own? The more of it I see, the less I think that is the case.