If I had a "PlayCount" in my mind I'd go completely insane.
If i had to layer on top of thinking about conversations I've had that day,
the number of times I've been through that conversation...
I'd go completely nuts.
Tonight I endlessly rehearse the events of last night.
I go over them and over them and over them
I think about everything I said and how it was received
I remember my intentions with every word and how they were received.
I hear my own words miss the mark and I hear myself coming up with better responses
to engage, excite, involve, and enthrall
the people I'm speaking to.
The most baffling part?
Last night was amazing,
It was overwhelming, wonderful, mesmerizing, breath taking, and everything
But I still think about how I could've have been better.
I go through the mistakes.
The moments when sarcasm was taken literally.
The moments when I gave a wrong answer and
the moments when I led them to wrong answers.
Mistakes.
So many to remember it is hard to write without falling into relaxing contemplation.
Relaxing because I am a sadist not only when it comes to interactions with other people
but also myself.
Going over every moment and thinking about all of my errors is elating.
I have tried to take social interaction and turn it into an art form.
I'm hardly alone on this. After all,
Elevating social interaction to an artform is the legacy of The American Modernist Writers.
It is a part of Americana now.
And since we've broadened the subject matter to far beyond last night,
I obsess over every email exchange I've had with people who I consider to be great artists,
I page over these things in my mind referencing the failures against the successes until they all blend into the realm of
I NOW KNOW HOW TO DO IT BETTER.
I would do it better this time.
Of course I know this is unhealthy,
More than that,
I know I will never get it right.
I have a blog post I've been working on. It talks about how every individuals experience of
depression/discrimination/prejudice/suffering-
/solitude is unique
but we must try to relate them as a feeble but noble attempt at feeling whole.
This sentiment is fleeting in its most concrete
and ephemeral in all things.
I know that later I will be able to do it better. With more rewrites the message will be clearer
but it feels so wonderful every time I put more art into the world
I can't help but throw all these halfcocked and unfinished ideas out there.
Excited to see the flaws of my writing in all the beautiful unintended responses.
