What is a blog without a bit of sombre writing? After reading a blog post from a good friend of mine, I decided to stop drawing fungal parodies of famous figures and start pretending to care about people (That was a direct quote from House M.D - not an honest statement...I think). But, well I've been here for eighteen years. I've been to loads of places, met thousands of people, most of whom I will never ever see again, if I do it'll be only in passing. People bore me, I make no attempt to hide that. But sometimes I find people who interest me, people who are complex workings. I know everyone is unique, and complex - but we've assigned so many disorders, personality traits and functions to ourselves that everyone fits into categories. Some fit into a lot of categories. I've met people who don't fit into anything, they don't make sense at all. I try and figure them out but I can't, no labels for these people.
That's how I make friends. Well - after meeting them. I don't spy on people who interest me, otherwise I'd change my name to Orwell and write books. Of course, this isn't the only way I see people - we aren't objects to be examined in a lab, I'm no scientist.
My best friends don't fit into these categories. I could know all that there is to know about their personal lives and yet they still remain a mystery, there's no personality trait there which can be explained by something obvious. I hasten to add that I'm no sociopath, I make jokes about it but I do associate myself with others quite readily. I just don't like being exposed. I care for my friends but I'd be lying if I said I didn't examine them. I care for them, or try to, if they fall and amuse them when I can. Of course that's dependant on my various mood swings.
Being as - broken - as I feel like sometimes, my life has become dominated by my various illnesses, they dictate what courses I take, where I go and what jobs I do. It's taxing but it defines me. I hate having a defination, I hate being in a category but it's inevitable as I know everything there is to know about myself (except where my bloody pen has got too).
I could go days without speaking to people, I have done before. But in truth, it feels hollow. I couldn't live without my friends and family, and I appreciate them for putting up with me. A lot. All of those who mean something to me, you know who you are - you're the greatest (probably) people in the world. Wellington was cooler, though.
And Grouchy was an idiot.
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