I've never considered myself neurotic. But 25 year old Mohamed Shafeek Jr. has double the amount of baggage as 23 year old Mohamed Shafeek Jr. At this rate... I will be a raging lunatic at 40. I am not insecure, but I am internalized. I have hang ups, and I have trouble letting go. I have become slightly insensitive to other peoples problems, or rationalizations of their morality. I have also become less obsessed with making sure all of my valuable assets (read: friends) are all resting comfortably on their mantle for me to display and any given moment. Don't get me wrong, I love them (you) all, but I've considered myself a bit of a collector my whole life... I mean, you've seen my DVD and CD collection. I think that might extend beyond the plastic disc realm. I have less to prove to most people, but here I am writing a novel trying to prove to myself that I can do it.
What's wrong with me? I'm sorry, I know I just barge in here and start talking about myelf, but I have to talk to someone... I haven't left my apartment to be social in almost three weeks. I am getting pretty sick of talking to myself. I hope you don't mind me unloading all of this on to you. I didn't think you would.
See that's why I like you, The Internet. You are so forgiving. I mean, you see so many things everyday... all of humanities flaws, and miracles. You host videos of 3 year old girls dancing to 'Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)' on youtube, and you don't judge that more people have watched it than videos... of substance! That's subjective, I know... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know i've been going through a pretty rough time these past few months, and I don't really think anyone could benefit from having me in their life right now... I have some real deal shit to sort out... but I think I need to take a lesson from you. I need to just accept the way the world works: not because I'm forced to, but because I am a product of the world. A sum of what people choose to output, not keep in.
You don't seem like you are following. I guess I lost you. It's fine, I think I'm just venting. I think I'm just nervous. You see, I'm writing this book, and it's slightly based on real events. Real tragic events that happened to a dear friend of mine, and I am slightly terrified that when I ask her to read it, that I am going to upset her. I am finding my lack of sensitivity is just a narrowing of my compassion that needs to be directed toward the people who deserve it the most. Death is not a funny subject, but I have learned a lot through out the losses in my life, and I really want this to be perfect. I want to write this novel, be content with my capabilities, all while walking on the eggshells of a stigma I have less compassion towards than most. I am only preaching Acceptance. Acceptance of the things we cannot control in this world. Is that a decent moral? I think it is. I guess we'll see. I'm already half way done, there's no going back.
I think I will be okay when I'm 40... if I am allowed to turn these, and future insecurities into films and cast myself in the films along side beautiful actresses half my age... Man, Woody Allen is a genius.
-Mo
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