wheels turning and c.h.u.r.n.i.n.g....

I don't know why I don't make more of a big deal about my singledom than I do, and I suppose it's because I feel as if I can fall back on a larger net of beings, or a cloud of some higher forces. (Yes, a level of acceptance has encompassed me. I'm just plain tired of trying to say, no, no, no, but not completely.) I would think that I would sulk even more in my loneliness and lack of someone else to help me with self definition. I always tried to look to someone else to tell me who I am, I think, or at least some sort of activity that told me in black and white, what was good or bad that I was doing at the time. Whether it was a sport, my mother, a boyfriend, or a group of girls, which really took me away like nothing else did before.

But here I am, without anyone, not even a faithful companion. And I don't even miss having a TV or a best friend to talk to everyday. Instead, I'm just glad that I don't have to sort through white lies or deal with arguing with someone about something seemingly trivial, like whether or not the vegetables were cleaned. And so I shut myself in. But I miss the tiny, trivial matters between me and that someone. And those trivialities of life are what I hang onto after all is said and done - the little pockets of life and light in an otherwise lonely state of being.

The huge sweeping thoughts about society are intriguing and very intelligent, and they supposedly join people in thought and pursuit. And it's an inspiring thing to see - others united in some personal quest that extends out into all areas of society, which then ultimately leads them to one. Why don't I passionately go and follow my heart, my dreams, like I said I would? How has it changed or have I changed, and if so, do I even have the strength to understand those changes...

But, for right here and right now, why should I look into something greater that will only tell me that I am smaller and lesser? I'm not saying that I'm entitled to something more, and so I don't want to hear that it doesn't belong to me, especially when it is no concern of necessity and survival. On the contrary, anything that I, solely, haven't worked for with my own bare hands doesn't belong to me at all. But do I want that something for sake of saying that it belongs to me, and me alone? Inevitably, it later belongs to a society, and will later reel out of my own thoughts and into that of a generation. What sense of ownership do I have to clutch onto? If not in the form of another body, then what else is tangible amid the changing faces, changing bodies, changing actions, the constant change...please, stop. I don't know who you are, anymore, or what I am to you. My jigsaw puzzle of a mind is about to implode and twist into itself, into me. Please, stop.

So am I saying that I'm a shut-in? That I'm one of those girls who's destined to be a 20 something cat owner? God, I hope not. If I collect anything, let it be cool...please.

And so I spend my Sundays leisurely perusing through artsy magazines and checking out something on the street that captures my fancy. Let it be something cool, let it be something catchy, let it be...something that moves me. And I walk by another table and another store window and I look in. Is it something that perks my interest or makes me shy away due to my lack of superior bargining skills? But then, I don't have to bargin as much as I did a few years ago. And isn't really a bargining/market style of shopping around Hongdae, anyway.