We often clash with the people who attract us. Strongly attract us, I should say. Hasn’t that happened to you before? You meet someone and sparks immediately fly because forceful tension erupts at the slightest thing? No? *Shrug* OK maybe not in real life, LOL. Seriously though, experiencing an intense adverse reaction to another person at the first meeting need not be a negative thing. I mean, yes it could be that your personalities just don’t mesh and all that, but it could also be some kind of foreplay. You know, controversy being an aphrodisiac and whatnot. I’m just saying. Maybe I read too much romantic fiction. Anyway.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my life lately. Where I’m going, what I’m doing, who I want to be/become, that kind of thing. I realise I have no clear idea what I want, I only know what I don’t want, which is all well and good but it doesn’t clue me in as to what I need and if perhaps I’m shooting myself in the foot by closing certain doors. I don’t know though, maybe I expect too much. I mean, you have to try stuff out before you can decide it’s not for you, right? I guess. It’s just that if you really know your character, you can sense the things that’d stifle you or drive you insane. I try to tell myself that’s the case but I could just be making excuses. And we all know that deceiving oneself is never a good thing no matter how attractive it might seem. Sigh.

Why is it so hard to get it right? We’re constantly searching for something, anything, to take/get us where we feel we ought to be. How do you know when you find it? How do you know when you are in danger of throwing it away because you’re too inflexible? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I wish I did. I wish I could understand what I think and feel and need as clearly as I understand the natural laws of physics and gravity. You know, hit a baseball with a bat and it moves with speed in the general direction of your hit. Kick a football and it zooms off towards another person. Stuff like that. But our inner workings aren’t as clear-cut, are they? Mine aren’t, anyway. Are yours?