Lately, I have had a hard time putting into words what I am feeling. It's not a mid-life crisis, but I do often wonder about the direction my life is taking. I think a lot - a lot - about who I am, what I do, where I live, and if I am doing all the right things - the things I am supposed to be doing.
Am I saving enough?
Did I pay off every bill?
Do I need to get "xyz" at the grocery store?
Did I do this? Did I do that?
Did I workout enough this week? Am I being healthy?
Did I.....AHHHHH!!!!!!
Then the bigger questions loom:
Was today a good day?
Am I happy where I live, work, breathe, recreationally play?
Am I happy? Happiness seems to be what is all about.
If only it were as easy to walk around with a big yellow face and two black eyes, like that t-shirt. Instead, I have brown eyes. And a very expressive face. When I am happy: the whole bleepin' world knows it. And when I am less so, the bleepin' bleeped bleep must know that I am not happy.
Growing up, I was often told by my mother that she always knew when I was really sick - because she could see it ... in my eyes. She didn't say it in a creepy, ominous way - although in hindsight - eeks!!!
"I COULD SEE IT IN YOUR EYES," screamed the mad scientist/stalker in a really bad movie.
Seriously, if I wanted to have someone in my life with that kind of power, it certainly wouldn't be my mother. I would much rather my doctor know when I'm sick than good ol' Mom. That is simply a smart thing.
You can't blame Mom. The woman knows me. Probably because I look almost exactly like her. (Except I am better looking! No, I am kidding ... (whispers) Ok, has Mom left yet? So, yeah ... it's true ... I am TOTALLY better looking.)
The funny thing is: I actually never attempted to lie about being sick when I was young. Mom just always knew when I really was sick. This all must make you wonder about the power my eyes must have to convey my feelings. My eyes must be like Lassie, without all the barking. My eyes will tell you everything that is going on.
"They really are the window to your soul," said a philosophical college student trying to impress a girl.
It simply must be that ... I Am So Expressive.
And the fact that lately, particularly the past few weeks, I have been less expressive - at least vocally - has concerned me. Why am I not able to answer questions? Why do I feel a little empty inside?
I mean - the questions we have to ask ourselves on a daily basis (did I take the trash out? did I go to the bank?) - these are exhausting just to write about. And I literally don't even have to do them. Although, I really do have to take out the trash. It's like a crime scene in there. But, we have so much on our plates with our first world problems, I am not surprised that I am a bit speechless when trying to answer them all.
What is there to even say? Am I... fine? Yeah! I am fine. (VERY fine, some may say.) But, I really am ok.
The answer is: I am just figuring out. Every day is a process and every now and again, I re-evaluate my life, which I think is healthy. Am I doing all the things that I want to do? Am I living my life the way I want to live it?
Bold questions for such a bold, gay dude.
Have I mentioned that I own not one, but four different colored pairs of Calvin Klein Suede Oxford shoes? (And because you're dying to know: I own cherry red, kelly green, dark navy, and mustard.) Mustard might be a fun, yet safe choice for you to buy for your straight male partner or house servant. Navy is a color shoe he should always own because he probably only owns black or brown shoes. As for me, I heartily endorse the cherry red. They are just unbelievably awesome.
Yes, I realize shopping makes me happy - and clearly allows me to be expressive! But, there are bigger themes. We all probably (and internally - not on a blog) evaluate our lives from time to time. Some of us probably run out and buy some stupid sports car, or a new haircut, or something for the house. And why do we do it? Because we are putting something external out into the world based on our internal feelings.
I Am So Psychological? Maybe ..... not.
I am just proposing that we all think about this question of - why do I feel "eh?"
I know that we all answer the question, sometimes without realizing it, and we all do things about it in a different way.
For now, I am just sitting back (pear/lychee vodka cocktail in hand) and I am thinking about things.
I like the solace and quiet of analyzing instead of acting. I will act later. It probably won't be a little car. I live in Brooklyn. Who would I be kidding? But, it might be a trip, or a change of direction. For now, I don't have the words for it. For now, it's just me ... figuring it out ... like we all do every day.
Love,
Speechless?
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