I think I know what my “problem” is.
I love everything, way too much.
I flit back and forth, grasping this, snatching that, inhaling this, devouring that – I want to know how everything feels, tastes, smells, sounds like, looks like. I cannot ignore the bad…but I also see the riot of exquisite delights everywhere.
Sometimes I want to rebel against my own “rules” – really my “rules” are just preferences and specific things I want to accomplish, until the Desire Monster attacks me.
I have never liked rules. What a stereotype, huh? “Girl who hates authority!” – well, I don’t hate authority, I just prefer to rule over myself. I am my own kingdom. I set my own path. I do what I wanna do. And if people don’t like it, or say I can’t – well, I will find a way and prove them wrong.
I do not set out to fight any system – I just behave as if I am entitled to my freedom. This used to lead to me losing jobs, friends, etc – but now because I see it as a positive thing to have freedom, I never fear losing things. And so I never do. I can’t lose anything because I know nothing belongs to me (or I can have everything because everything belongs to me).
The orgy of things I want to do, read, see – the list is endless and glorious. I am obsessed with my teenage years. I want to relive them with the attitude I have now (and this is basically how I conduct myself). Damn what a time it would be. It was still good, despite the heartache and acne. I wrote my way out of the angst. I mostly kept to myself. I drowned myself in music. I yearned for long-haired men (I still do).
Not much has changed, except I feel powerful now instead of weak. My aesthetics and passions have not changed. I still want to be a surf bum. I still want to make music. I still want to write out every detail of my day, every character I concoct, every interesting thing I learn, every turn of phrase that makes me swoon.
The voracious need for constant stimuli has not waned. I have always been interested in every facet of life. How can anyone be bored? Read a book about the universe or something! Bloody hell. I roll my eyes at boredom. Even if you watch TV all day you can be excited by things . I miss the days of late night alternative music shows, which was the only way (other than magazines) at the time I could discover anything special. My Saturday nights were not party nights. I was a lone teen with green-streaked hair, Doc Martens, and purple plaid flannel. I read Poppy Z. Brite and yearned for Trent Reznor in the Closer video, hanging from the ceiling in his black latex gloves (the pinnacle moment where I transformed into a goth).
This show was my weekly blast of splendor – then every week I would trek to the city to sit in my favourite music store, stare at the cute, grungy, blonde employee, yearn for his butt, and listen to CDs of the bands I had discovered.
I do love the internet, but it has replaced true exploration. Last year me and my (long-haired) boyfriend were watching a new music channel on TV – it was a freebie for a month, and yet again, I had the joy of discovery like I used to. Oh how I was sent back to those days! The difference being that I could go home and listen to it right away, for free. Nostalgia prefers the record store.
Discovery is still my favourite of all things. This is why I lament my teen years – it is much harder to have that particular sensation – things now are so overwhelming and so accessible. I still get that ecstatic pulse from music, and especially from literature – I gorge on these things until I explode.
But there are so many things I have not done and want to do – I keep searching for that flutter of delight. I do feel it far more often than most people do.
The youthful minded stay young. It is the best anti-aging potion out there.