christmas and the life game

Blog is such a strange word. Blog, blog, blog. I think of sludgy water. I think of strange, pink, balloony creatures like jigglypuff, only slightly less round and more deformed. The thought-forms of blogs are bubbly, soft, shapable. Some kind of funky putty.

Anyway. It's Christmas, and for some bizarre reason, I find myself here. Well it's not a bizarre reason. I'm exaggerating. It's just that lots of people are over, people beyond my immediate family, which is fine, but it's way too loud and my head is still ringing. I'm not good with huge family gatherings. Socialization becomes a duty, and it does not flow freely or deeply. For me. Maybe i'm simply removing myself (she says as she sits in a quiet room, away from all the bustle).

Not to say I don't like these people. These people are pretty cool. You know cats, the kind of cat that sits on something high and watches all the action instead of participating in it? That's how I feel. But I also feel it's slightly anti-social to do so. I guess I care about possible, internal thought-judgements from these people. I guess I don't want to seem a big loser. It's not like I am. I'm fairly sure I'm only a little bit of a loser. But I don't want to seem it. So what am I to do? Go out there and impress them all with my outgoing ways, talking about nothing that matters to me, so freely? Like those people. You know the ones. They think they're so cool because they do spontaneous things, like for example, they start randomly dancing. They think they're so hilarious. If I were to be like that, then no one would think badly of me.

Why don't I just be myself? Well, from what I know of myself, I'm the kind of person who observes the scene, then joins the scene, then exits the scene to observe a different one. Learn the rules of a game and then play it. So why don't I do that? Well I guess I don't really want to. It's kind of a boring game. They ask you what you're doing, and you tell them the same shit answer, that I'm working and generally existing but not a whole hell of a lot more. Then I could ask them what they're doing, and their answer will be long but vague, and you smile and say that's awesome. Then, you take an idea from their little talk and you ask about it. Then they expand on it. Then you understand what they're saying better, and you say, oh, okay, I understand, while hinting at the fact that you think it's really fucken incredible, even if they just told you about their life as a plumber. Finally, you look somewhere else for a few seconds, and join in the conversation that the others are having, and pretend like it caught your attention so you have an excuse for exiting the prior conversation.

I make my family sound like a real drag. They're not. They're funny and smart. But as far as contributing goes, well, usually I don't. My thoughts are a little too strayed. I'll say something and everyone will stop talking. I'm a conversation killer.

So I laugh at the jokes and learn about these people, and I drink a fuckload of coffee to keep the headache at bay. Didn't work this time. Don't know why I'm not more tolerant today. It's fucken Christmas and I have nothing to say.

Except, you know, everything I just said.

Also, I'm getting that electric grand from my parents. Suffice to say, when I unrolled the letter and learned of this, I was the first to cry this Christmas. But I didn't beat Granny by much - five minutes later she got her touching gift of the year and put my own display of sentimentality to shame.

Maybe it seems like I'm just pretending. I'm pretending to be interested and full of emotion and all that. I don't see this being true. I have crafted my life into a performance. Every waking hour of my life I am performing. Sometimes I'm off my game. Sometimes I don't do very well, because sometimes what I am feeling and thinking is boring and I can't really embellish it. But it's not like I fake happy when I'm crying inside. It's nothing like that. My character deals. My character doesn't like to bring people down. My character tries to embellish the good.

I'm wondering if anyone thinks this is wrong, that by 'acting' my life I'm being dishonest and false. I wonder if they realize it's more than some sort of play. It's who I am. It's what I do.

Well, I guess this is pretty long and I should go back to the coffee grind. I guess I should play like I always must. I guess I must participate.

My parents got themselves a super fucken grand telescope this year. We're checking it out tonight, can't wait.

Happy Christmas. Have fun. Get drunk. It's warm out tonight.

Allysia