Remember that time we jumped the fence when the Stones were playing
I haven't blogged in a few days, which is either a reflection of my improving mental state, or a reflection of the hours I've spent watching an entire season of "Veronica Mars" over the last three days. Thanksgiving was fine, I suppose, but I'm not a big holiday person or a big food person so really Thanksgiving is just an excuse for everyone to interrogate me about my college plans and whether or not I have a boyfriend. Yesterday, my mom and Gilly and I went to a musical production of "The Secret Garden", which has always been one of my favorite stories, and then we went to the mall and dinner and to the bookstore, where I bought some books that I'm really excited to read, but I'm also really excited to continue watching "Misfits" and I'm excited for the way I'm going to feel when I (if I ever) finish my college apps, so I have to prioritize all of that.Now I'm sitting here listening to Ke$ha (who I think is a genius and is underrated) and browsing tumblr, like I always am, and I've been thinking a lot about how we perceive other people and whether it's bad to have built someone up in your head to be this amazing person, all the while knowing that you'll never have any kind of relationship with him because you're you and he's him and that's just the way things are. But I guess what I'm wondering is if the way to avoid that, because I think everyone does that, is to avoid people completely, avoid social connections, build walls that no one can break down because it's safer knowing that no one will ever hurt you than to risk that someone will.
And I've been thinking about not knowing someone and never really being able to know someone because a lot of what we make ourselves out to be is just shells of our inner selves or what we want people to see or think they want to see. I'm a pessimist, I suppose, in that sense, which might be why I like television characters, because they're either stereotypes or so complicated and damaged that they don't even understand themselves. But in the end, though, they're not real. They're never real.
