Mr. Cobain probably summed up what I'm experiencing in two short lines..
"I think I'm dumb, but maybe I'm just happy."
My homelife is far from perfection, but it's perfect. I'm still in love and it's not boring, but it's hardly newsworthy. I can listen to an REM song such as 'Shiny Happy People' but I have never had the urge to write anything positive. 'You have to suffer to create' is the mantra of the wounded poet and I'm in no hurry to put myself in that position in order to be motivated; at the same time happiness has got to be least entertaining form of entertainment and my attention span for it has never been long.
There are so many issues to sort through these days.. political, religious, and other important subjects and lately I've been noticing some cleverly placed distractions, and falling headfirst into them willingly.
"That sounds a bit devious." -- I'd thought this during an extended round of Candy Crush Saga..
Wait! Put on the brakes!
I've had an overwhelming desire to be underwhelmed lately. It's human nature when you have too many issues to ponder or to sort and sift through of what's important, what's trivial, and how you can just get back to business as usual.. or even less when you're giving your awareness a well deserved break. The most important part of 'telling a story' is to have a complete thought and the passion to express it and for the most part? I have been putting any kind of obstacle in my synapses to avoid having to think too hard in the first place. This is something I chastise people for regularly and passionately and if I heckle others for it then I completely despise myself for the loss I am for words lately, until I put it in perspective.
So what am I if I am worried about a bunch of nouns, but am at a loss for adjectives and can't bring myself to verb about them? Oh boy! I'm a loaf. I seem to have found a niche of complacency these days, I wouldn't necessarily call it boredom and 'peaceful easy feeling' isn't the soundtrack of what's going on upstairs in what seems to be the vacant space where my creative urges used to live. There are political issues I think I can still get blue in the face before I open my mouth to express my disdain but with the exception of a few distracting facebook posts I seem rather absent.. even to me.
Important expressions are for me usually based in torment and rage; I'd rather be hurling paint to the canvas in a whirl of color than precisely drawing a picture with words and the problem with advancing my technique is I become more critical of what I'm thinking before I even begin an attempt to turn it into words worth writing, let alone reading.
I believe I'm in the process of having an important life experience right now rather than feeling obligated to detangle events of my past or sort out my thoughts in a way that are humorous, profound, or even interesting to anyone including myself.
In summary? "I think I'm dumb, but maybe I'm just happy" has never applied so completely.
As every event in life I never expected to experience? I am too caught up in this new endeavor to pick it apart, analyze it, or make sense of it... until I'm not feeling it anymore. That's a destination I'm in no rush to depart for. Ending a sentence with a preposition? That's just something a dumb guy does.