Friends & Hobbies

I think of my friends who are better than me. The ones who write better, the ones who draw better, the ones who have hobbies that are exciting, the ones who have spouses and are content with each other, the ones who fuck with wild abandon, the ones who are quiet and collected, the ones who aren't afraid to let their freak flag fly. I want to be like them all. I decided some years ago that I only want to be surrounded by people who I love, and have goals of making their community a better place. People who inspire me and others around them. Nerds. Goofballs. Rockstars. Poets. Gardeners. Authors. Sluts. Autists. I think about them and I compare myself to them. If I could have an ounce of their glory, maybe, just maybe I'll learn to be like them. I'm a collection of all the people I have met, as you and I know. I'd rather bask in the light of someone else's glow than to nurture my own. But I'm not a reptile, I am warm blooded. I need to take care of myself and leave the basking to Curly. What's that thing about a fig tree and some lady named Sylvia? Maybe I'm too obsessed with what others have that I ignore my own skills and talents just to live vicariously through my friends. But I'm not always like this! I am a selfish and self centered person and think I'm hot shit somedays. Then I come back down where I should be (where I think I should be) and mull about, waiting for inspiration to strike me. I like having my friends near me while I journal, draw, paint, read, write, sew, wire, paper craft, swim, hike, eat, cook, drink, smoke, so on and so forth. Parallel play or body doubling can help, but then I feel this little sense of pride that wants to make the project I'm working on even greater, but perfectionism is a dagger that ain't trying to be a letter opener.