Let curiosity kill me
2005-05-23 @ 3:17 p.m. I'm always looking. Looking for that kindred soul out there that understands most of the crap I talk here. Often I am surround by several people, but none that I would consider a true friend. If I even know the definition of what a true friend could be.
So many people have come in and out of my life, in reality as well as here; fake reality portrayed by pixels on a screen. I wonder if their words are true, what they are really like when they are home alone, in their safe enviornment. The little things I am curious about..position they sleep in, what they eat, their morning ritual..an endless stream of mundane thoughts. What seems like routine to them is fascinating to me. It's all about learning one more piece to the puzzle that is their existance.
I wonder what people wonder about me? Do they have the same thoughts and questions I often have about them? I wonder what strangers dwell here; reading and watching, in silence or spoken, I contemplate all the little things that make up that persons personality, emotion, heart and soul.
Maybe I do it to find a more balanced sense of self. Or maybe it's just morbid curiousity? Several words displayed over several pages, and yet the basics are never answered. The things we do without thinking. How I sit here with one leg dangling off the chair, as the other is folded beneath me. I bet no one knew that's how I write my entries..and yet I wonder, did anyone even wonder such a thing?
Those are the mindless thoughts I have throughout the day. Would anyone in my life ever notice the little things..and question when they are different? How much does one really get across in this forum? Certainly not the minute details. Perhaps those are my curiousities alone.
My Past with No Future