03 June 2008

patina.

I was going to name this post something to do with patterns, or maybe just simply, "patterns," because patterns have been on my mind these past weeks, specifically my own patterns, drawn out and perfected in these 32 years. The idea that no matter where you go, there you are. The word patina came to mind though, and it sounds so much lovelier to my ears, that I decided on it instead, not really even knowing what the definition of patina was. I wasn't too far off:

patina

\pə-ˈtē-nə, ˈpa-tə-nə\
1 a: a usually green film formed naturally on copper and bronze by long exposure or artificially (as by acids) and often valued aesthetically for its color b: a surface appearance of something grown beautiful especially with age or use
2
: an appearance or aura that is derived from association, habit, or established character
3: a superficial covering or exterior

I haven't written in a few weeks, obviously. Not a ton to say. I've arrived at that inevitable point in the journey wherein the newness and novelty I seem endlessly to crave has worn down, and I realize I'm where I've found myself so many times before: far and away, somewhat isolated, starting over, wondering what the hell I'm doing, questioning whether I've made the right decisions. I suppose we all wander into this little corner of hell from time to time, no matter where we are, or what we're doing, regardless of where we are on life's wondrous little path. The circumstances may vary, but we wind up at the same crossroads, over and over. It reminds me of a recurring dream: the theme is always the same, and you feel the same panic when you're in the dream, the same relief and confusion when it's through, and even though there's some little synapse in your brain, or phobia deep within your psyche that keeps bringing that theme to the forefront, it's such an out-of-control feeling, you'd swear that you, yourself, have nothing to do with that dream.

I feel that way now, like I keep finding myself at the same point, the same crossroads, asking myself the same questions, even though the path is always different (and in my case, sometimes whole continents away from the previous path). Don't get me wrong, I'm not in crisis mode or anything. I suppose I'm just finally at a point where I'm so damn tired of myself, and my patterns, and wanting to shirk the responsibility for this spot where I've always landed, that I'm assessing the best way to sidestep this little rabbit hole in the future. Maybe the problem is that, instead of embracing that I keep f*cking up in the same ways, I swear to myself that this is the last time I'll end up here, that next time I'll make better decisions, I'll think things through more thoroughly, and then I push it all out of my mind, never having learned a damn thing from my mistakes. I mean, isn't there a process of learning from one's mistakes? Because I think that's probably the kernel of wisdom here, figuring out how to live with less of the repressing of the badness, and more of the what can be gained from the badness.

Still so much to learn...

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