Everyone knows we see ourselves in other people, other lives. We are, all of us, looking to define ourself, products of individual-centred lives. Do you validate me? (Do I validate you?)
It's more noticeable than before now. I'm exploring that place of self-awareness that's on the surface of understanding. Self, I say, here is who you are, but don't ask me why. I'm not sure I'm ready for why. (Mother wouldn't approve.)
El is the most obvious. Some future I aspire to, influence and attraction and oh the intelligence, the desire for expression and understanding. Reciprocal needs; he sees me as the blank canvas of his creation, like enough for identification and yet, I'm more open, more easy then, I'm more connected and perhaps that's something he wants sometimes. Similarity and disparity. Or perhaps, I'm projecting again. Going back to the start, self.
En and Cee, the former social, the later intellectual. But peripherally, half and half (or say, three-fifths and one-fourth). Probably why I speak to them, tell them about me, but I don't connect. I don't say: you'll understand if I tell you. (Does Em?) They're people, they're friends but they're not mirrors, vessels for connection, sharing, interaction but we're all alone in the end.
And in the celebrity du jour, the character of obsession, the environments of fantasy, I say: me me me me me....
Scream it, declare yourself.
We are all, all of us, looking.
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