I was thinking the other day.
Those are the words that will most often get me in trouble. You see, I think too much. I analyze too much. I pay too much attention to what is going on rather than what is being said. Right or wrong, I was thinking.
What if my friends knew the inner me? I don't know if it's because I don't watch as much TV, so it may still be true, but it seemed like for a while there was a great deal of soul bearing. Confessional books, talk shows and radio interviews. I was getting tired of learning everyone else's secrets when I had some secrets of my own.
Secret distastes, annoyances, bothersome thoughts and unrealized dreams. Some of them hidden so deep I forget they are even mine. Things, that if exposed might make me seem a little off, a little strange a little not a part of status quo.
A good-sized portion of my secrets involve relationships. Feelings I can't seem to have for family--no matter how hard I've tried. Friendships I should just end, but don't have the heart to, so they drag on and on, sputtering and flopping around like a stinky dying fish. Times when I should really have a little compassion and I secretly gloat at my own good luck and fortune.
These are not the things that make their way to talk shows and book shelves. This is the truly ugly inner most me and maybe even you. Aah, well, but it's who we are and no amount of sould baring will change that.
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